Facebook: You Can Run, But You Can't Hide - 5/28/2011

Last week, through the miracle of Facebook, I was contacted by a woman that I once dated, but hadn’t spoken to in 17 years. I know what you are thinking: one of my sperm had matured and now needed a kidney and/or a college education. No, she contacted me because I had been on her mind for nearly two decades. Well, she hadn’t pined away too much; as she has been married for the last 10 years to the same guy she was dating when I met her. He must be a real catch if someone like me can hold her interest. I am not the kind of man who holds a woman’s attention through the checkout line at Costco.

When I was assured that she was not tracking me down to kill me, I relaxed and enjoyed the contact. It was not nearly as awkward as one would expect.

Lucky for her that there are only three people named Rick Wainright on Facebook, and one of them is my son. I did not have the same good fortune while searching for my old Air Force friend, John Smith. There are nearly 80,000 of them, but I remain optimistic.

I remembered this woman fondly, but she has detailed memories of our short time together that I had long forgotten. And it seems that she was somewhat distraught when I packed up and moved without telling her or even saying goodbye. I honestly had no idea that I meant more to her than a port in the storm. Though it gives me a warm feeling to have someone nearly 2,000 miles and a lifetime away remembering me, I am also very sorry that I ended up hurting her by my absence and thoughtlessness. I have chosen to live a solitary life, but occasionally take comfort in the company of others. I guess I never considered the possibility that others have also taken solace in my companionship.

I want to take this time to somewhat publicly apologize to any woman who found herself in the path of my willy-nilly journey to the abyss. And a word of advice to women: if you like a guy, you might mention it to him before he moves on to the next thing. We don’t tend to be too perceptive and our attention span is very short.

But I take a little satisfaction in thinking of her thinking of me as her husband is trying to give her a good rogering. I never liked the little shit anyway.

My History of Blogging - 9/6/09

When I first started blogging I depended on various websites to provide prompts, deadlines, and to introduce me to other writers through links on those sites.
I participated in several such websites.
I believed that without those links no one would ever find their way to my blog.
Through those websites I received many comments on my writing, stroking my ego and inciting me to write frequently.
I had not written in a long time and I was so insecure about the worth of my writing that I became a praise whore. Even when the praise was not justified or came as merely chum to reel me to their blog.
After some time I came to realize that most of those comments were made just to lure me to their blog, in hopes that I would leave comments on their writings.
Often, it was evident from those comments that the person had not actually read my blog at all or if they did they did not understand it.
Sometimes the comment was only a link to their blog.
What a turnoff for me.
If I did not visit their blog and make a comment I would often never hear from them again.
It was strictly quid pro quo.
I used to visit a lot of bloggers but found too much pretense. People in love with their thesaurus, writing nonsensical drivel. And I think a lot of people are of the opinion “if I don’t understand it, it must be really good.” And they write flowery comments so no one will think their intellect is lacking. As for me, I have a pretty good vocabulary and if I don’t understand it, it is probably shit.
There are groups of people that follow each other’s blogs, telling each other how wonderful they are. Kind of a mutual admiration society. A person could write a recipe for stir fry and receive hoards of comments proclaiming them as channeling Shakespeare.
I think some people need that sense of community and the positive strokes, even if they honestly know there is no relationship between the comments and the quality of their writing. Or maybe they don’t realize it, like the really bad singer that goes on American Idol and cannot believe they do not get a golden ticket.

Don’t get me wrong, I have come across some fine writers that I read regularly and a handful of my original readers still stop by.
And I am thankful to the people who maintain these sites as they have provided inspiration and motivation that I would not have acquired on my own.
But I became disillusioned and my submissions to those types of sites became less and less frequent.
As a result, the number of comments I received on my own writings diminished exponentially.
I became less motivated to write and I went weeks at a time with no postings.
But a funny thing happened: I began receiving emails of concern from people who I had no idea had been reading my blog.
I have received Facebook friend requests from regular readers of my “Ramblings”.
I came to realize that just because they do not leave a comment does not mean they are not reading.
This realization has inspired me to continue to write, which I enjoy.
I have decided that If one other person gets pleasure from my words, it is definitely worth the effort.
I thank any of you who anonymously follow me.
There is one weekly prompt that I will continue to submit to because it is original and challenging.
That is the 55 Flash Fiction Friday that the G-Man moderates. You tell a story using only 55 words. I highly recommend it.