Uncle Roger's Notebooks of Daily Life


Monday, January 04, 2010

The Babbling Has Begun

Remember how I used to write for ParentDish and then I didn't and so I was going to be writing here a lot more because of all the free time? Notice how that lasted for a couple of months and then I disappeared again, more or less? There's a reason for that, and it's not just that I'm too old and tired to be doing this sort of thing anymore. (Get off my lawn, you whippersnappers!) Since October, I've been writing elsewhere.

I've joined the cast of characters at Babble Media's Strollerderby. It's cool, but I must admit it feels strange not being considered strange. Other writers for the site include or have included a lesbian mom, a woman whose family shares a communal household with her sister's family, and a mom who is part of a triad. As a straight, married man, I feel downright boring.

In fact, I cringe every time I open an e-mailed comment on one of my posts, expecting to be blasted for supporting gay rights or suggesting that the boy scouts' discrimination is not a good thing. Instead, I've been reminded that some atheists actually enjoy the trappings of Christmas. Even the most critical commenter that I've encountered thus far is but a mere shadow of SKL, my frequent nemesis at ParentDish.

So, yeah, it seems to be more liberal and less mainstream than ParentDish was; it's actually a lot like BloggingBaby -- the precursor to ParentDish -- was. I'm enjoying it and the few coppers it puts in my pocket certainly doesn't hurt either.



Journal Description

My life is, to me, ripe with frequent challenges, occasional successes, spontaneous laughter, adequate tears, and enough *life* to last me a lifetime. To you, however, it surely seems most pedestrian. And therefore, I recycle the name I used previously and call this my Notebooks of Daily Life. Daily, because it's everyday in nature, ordinary. These conglomeration of events that are my life are of interest to me because I live it, perhaps mildly so to those who are touched by it, and could only be of perverse, morbid curiosity to anyone else. Yet, I offer them here nonetheless. Make of them what you will, and perhaps you can learn from my mistakes.

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