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Twitter.

I have a fairly old Twitter account. I was tweeting before the days of smartphones, when you would send a text message to a number and your tweet would appear. I’ve always enjoyed the concept of Twitter, a chronological, live feed of whoever had the same interests as you. It was a great way to hear what was happening in other parts of the world. Early on I realized it was excellent for finding out about news instantaneously.

Then something changed. Twitter became political. Twitter became about branding. Twitter ramped up the self promotion. Everyone was jumping on Twitter to add their voice to the chorus, to the screaming. Ever since the run up to and especially since the 2016 U.S. Elections, Twitter has become a swamp. A moat of a swamp around the dumpster fire that has overtaken Washington, D.C. The President of the United States, bless his heart, belches out tweets with regular irregularity, trying to distract the populace from the real travesty (his administration). Folks attack one another. People call each other names.

But the better thing about Twitter is that people also unite. Protests get organized. Voices are heard. Electronic chants are shared. And despite all the screaming and the name calling and the raging dumpster fire, Twitter gives people a voice. 

And voices deserve to be heard.

I keep thinking I’m going to work in negating my social media presence but those thoughts are folly. I have a voice. I want to tweet. I want my voice to be heard.

Even if it’s on the edge of a raging dumpster fire.

31 Days.

I am making a commitment to write at least one blog entry every day during the month of March. This little challenge is to write a blog entry with a bit of substance. I need to say something instead of just posting a photo or a music video or something. I feel like I need to continue to contribute to the ever shrinking blogosphere. Perhaps this challenge will spark a return of the blog as a form of electronic expression. Written prose fueled by thought is better than burping out 140 characters on Twitter or dropping an intentional short-fused bomb on Facebook.

The key to maintaining this blogging habit is to remain committed to the task. With my final surgery scheduled for Friday and spring just around the corner, I’m feeling like I’m in a “reboot” mood. It’s time to grab a hold of what’s left of 2017, take it by storm and mold it to what I wish it to be. 

I suppose there’s been a lot of people feeling political depression since the latter half of January when our new president (and I use that term loosely) took office and started treating the White House like a second rate Walmart. If you take a step back and assess the entire picture, you can totally see the ilk of Kellyanne Conway in sweat pants and smeared mascara making her way through the “family planning” aisle after midnight at your local Walmart. Just close your eyes and imagine it. It’s really not that hard?

I’m sorry for that picture.

Earl and I are currently sitting in our local Panera, our iPads with keyboards back to back. I have my back to the wall, something I always tend to do in public, which gives me a birds eye view of what’s happening in this little chestnut of a pastry shop with casual service and casual food. A worker just used a stepladder to climb up on the counter where food is served. She walked across the counter swiping at something near the ceiling before stepping back down in a bit of a ruckus. The food on the counter was unfazed. No worries.

This is substance? 

The Fighter.

I have loved this song since first seeing it performed live on the Grammys a couple of weeks ago.   I’ve been cranking it up in the Jeep. It’s putting me in a springtime mood.

Enjoy Keith Urban with Carrie Underwood and “The Fighter”.