For a long time and sometimes even now, I am cautioned to be cautious about what I reveal and share on my blog. Do you hear cautionary advice too? To be careful because you don't really know a person if you haven't actually met her or him? Or that there are lurkers out there ready to steal your identity or worse?
Yesterday I spent a wonderful afternoon with three women I met from blogging who are now real friends in the real world. I don't think about who I can trust and who I can't anymore and I'll bet you don't either. We know who is the real deal and who isn't. Plus, I don't mind taking my time before I privately or publicly acknowledge familiarity has become true blue affection.
Anyway, in my earlier days of blogging, when I couldn't for the life of me convince the non-bloggers in my life of the fantastic people/visitors/friends I had met, I wrote this silly little Twilight Zone pilot about blogging. tada:
They'll track you down in your own backyard--pirates who have stalked you from another continent,following your weekend restaurants and family reunions.
They'll break in through the basement on Sunday night and tie you to the bedpost while they open drawers and carry your television into the rented van.
They'll use your credit cards, cash your bank accounts, and make a few smooth moves so your hairstyle is theirs.
All because you have posted your entire life on the internet.
Because your e-mails and blogs have found their way to Mad Max in Memphis and a 68 year old trucker in Kalamazoo.
They'll open your refrigerator and pull out the special mozzarella from the second shelf rear
And marvel at the Indian place mats with the Mexican colors.
Then pull the red rickety chair up to the little round table, commenting, by the way, that your dining room looks exactly like you described it.
That will be bad enough.
But when they ask you to sit down and break bread--one friend to another--or carry the suitcase to the familiar guestroom, when that happens, I will say the same words with great syllabic pronunciation and emphasis.
I will lecture and cajole and implore and direct while your furniture is carried out the back door.
And you--you will politely and impatiently wait until the commotion dies down so you can get on-line and share this fascinating adrenalin-shaking event.
"Dear friends," you will say to your pals online, "You won't believe who I met today!"