Western New York-Masked Mom

Western New York
Masked Mom

One thing I like about blogging, is the ability to make new friends, in any geographical niche on earth.  If I waltz around in “Next Blog” land, I find myself encountering the most unexpected sites imaginable.  If I am uncomfortable, or uninterested, I am a click away from my next location; however, if I like what I see, then the sky is the limit.

JT and I have been exchanging comments since I started to blog in July, and one of the most enjoyable experiences for me, is communicating with people I have never met, as though we were over-the-fence neighbors.  I guess we are Net-neighbors.

The other day a new “follower” appeared on JT’s blog, a gal named Masked Mom.  I was intrigued that a person in Western New York State could appear one day, and just like that, by definition, JT would know that this person was present, simply because she was interested.  It could have been the art that was being presented, resonating with vibrancy and color, or it could have been the accompanying words.  It could also have been a desire to communicate with someone who appears to have the same purpose in blogging that she does.  

Heck, I didn’t even know there was a Western New York.  Everyone has heard of Up-State New York, and New York City, but Western New York?  See what I learn by blogging?  The closest I ever got to New York itself, was to be in a fishing vessel, which approached the coast in the vicinity of THE Statue, so that we could clearly see the sky-scraping silhouette of the city itself.  I was stationed at Fort Dix, and I was desperate to see a Mets/Dodgers game, in the days when I was still bleeding Dodger Blue.  The problem was that I was unwilling to take the necessary step of leaving post without permission, the only visit that the Dodgers made to Shea Stadium, while I was in New Jersey. 

So Masked Mom appears on JT’s site, and suddenly, with a click, I am looking at an array of available options, to learn what someone has to say from the opposite side of the country, from the coastal mountains of Northern California.  I can check out her blog in the wee hours of the morning, and it’s all good.

The process is so simple.  When I think that thirty-seven years went by, between the time I left the military and the time I reconnected to my friends, Mahlon from North Carolina, and Tim from SoCal, earlier this year, I am flummoxed.  These two guys were my brothers-in-office, as opposed to brothers-in-arms.  We clerked together in a personnel service company, and more importantly we survived together.  If the Net had existed in 1973, I would never have lost touch.  

I am not one for looking backward with regret (see Sebtown294’s blog piece, Years to Float On.)  I can’t change the past; I can only alter what occurs from this point onward.  Blogging allows me to communicate with anyone who chooses to take the time to click.  Now my friends and I communicate on more than one level, and it helps make up for lost time.

Lost time.  What a concept.  I always think of the inexorable march of time, but I never think of “lost time.”  Damn, where did I put that two hour block of time that I set aside to blog?  

“I think I saw it in the laundry room, next to that block of time you set aside to clean out the workshop.”  Thanks.  Sarcasm will get you everywhere.

So I welcome the opportunity to continue growing and expanding my circle of acquaintances.  I find it a most comfortable and satisfying experience.  There is none of the usual period of adjustment, while a determination is made whether or not I can be trusted.  I pose no threat, except that of boredom.  Back in 1974, indubitably a knee-jerk reaction from military service, I allowed my hair and my flaming red beard to relocate on the exterior of my skin, thereby alarming a good percentage of the students at San Jose State.

However, as Kat once observed, “It was like saying that Pooh Bear had been drafted and spent 21 months in the army,” probably the sweetest compliment I ever got.  I’ll take being compared to Pooh Bear any day of the week and twice on Sundays.

Welcome Masked Mom-hang around and share with me and JT what it’s like in Western New York, and we’ll share a little of NorCal with you.  I think it could work out to be a mutually beneficial arrangement.