Who’d A Thunk It?
When I launched my blog, I didn’t expect much. My son told me I’m long-winded and scrolling is too much work. I got the impression I had to have color pictures, video clips, and 3-D animations to make my blog interesting. “It has to be visually interesting,” he said. Spoken like a young man raised in the Internet generation, I thought as a woman from the borrow-a-book-from-the-library/black-and-white-television generation. I took his advice and moderated it just a bit, hence the mostly black and white photos and commitment to keep my posts to approximately 500 words (a hard thing for me to do). Life is full of compromise–at least mine is.
Imagine my surprise when I saw all the activity on my little blog! The one post that got the most attention was the one I had the most fun thinking about and writing. I guess I hit a collective nerve with my “To be honest with you…” post. I got so many great comments affirming my three pet linguistic peeves and offering up “gazillions” more. Between responding to the surprising number of comments and trying to get some sleep, I started thinking about what it was about this particular post that attracted so much attention.
The picture of Darkwing Duck was real draw for some people. Who knew? I wrote it tongue-in-cheek, so that may have attracted people who like a little light sarcasm. But I think there’s more to it than a sinister duck and a witty way with words. Much to my amazement, there are lots of people like me who notice the way we talk and who care about it. Who’d a thunk it? Not me! I thought I was a lone lexicon wolf.
I’m going to spend the next few days compiling the contributions all of you made in your comments–all of the gaffs, annoyances and oddities that bug you or you fall prey to–and list them in a subsequent post. Think of it as an exercise in purging ourselves of our linguistic angst. I may not have been the first to open this can of proverbial worms, but let’s see where they crawl, shall we?
I see now that my plan to dip my toes into the pool of blogging was misguided. I’m diving in head first, even though my son gave me the impression to be prepared for a belly flop. I suppose anything is possible…