Well, here we are at day 2 of my blog. So far, all is well. I haven't told anyone about this yet. I don't know if its because of cowardness or shame. Perhaps a combination of them both. I have always hated to be part of the pack. Blogging is everywhere now-a-days and I do not appreciate being grouped into the majority. Then again, maybe it is only my perception of blogs that has me believing it is part of mainstream society. You see, although I have over half a century of life under my belt, I am currently a college student. I attend classes with people who think of the attacks on 911 as ancient history. They could call me grampa, I am in that age bracket, hopefully in good humor and not rightfully so. They all have laptops and are constantly blogging. Blogging and tweeting. I hope I never sink so low as to tweet. It is bad enough that I am now blogging.
In a way I appreciate schooling more today than when I was a youth. I actually enjoy learning. It is no longer a dreaded chore to endure until I can party with my friends. Most of my friends these days are taking that long underground sleep. In my younger years, when a friend passed it was because of a car accident, an overdose, or a suicide. Today when a friend dies it is because of heart attacks or fatal diseases such as cancer or brain tumors. Statistically, every 7.5 years 10% of the people you know will leave this life. By the time you reach 40 over half the people you have ever met will be dead. Filled with fun facts, aint I?
I wonder what the life span of ostriches are. I could google it but then I wouldn't have anything to wonder about. I think it would great to have a pet ostrich. I could ride it up to the store and back. I've seen videos of people riding ostriches. It looks like something I would enjoy. They appear hard to steer. That would add a bit of suspense to the ride. Will I end up at the liquor store, or will this bird take me to a gas station instead? Which way will the bird turn?
I once told a friend's children that I had a pet kangeroo in the basement. They wanted to see it. I told them I couldn't chance it. If the kangeroo kicked them then their father would sue me for everything I owned. When they weren't looking at me, I would pound the floor and yell towards the basement, "Be quiet down there!" They believed in my kangeroo as dilligently as they believed in Santa Claus. It is so much fun to trick kids.