The ramblings, meanderings and stream of consciousness of a middleaged, short guy.

Friday, June 13, 2003

I know that I am a rookie at this, but everytime I start to type I think about who might read this. Will they think I'm smart, witty, well-read, deep? It's strange. I don't know why I care so much about what people think. I don't know why having others think well of me is so important. You would think, or maybe not you, but at least I would think that at my age that sort of thing would have fallen by the wayside by now. I'd love to get to the place in my life where I play to an audience of One. I'd love to be free to really live, to care about people, to seek to help them, to make a contribution, to demonstrate love and generosity without giving a rip about who sees or doesn't see, what they think or don't think. I guess that's my definition of freedom: Nothing to Lose and Nothing to Prove.

Monday, June 09, 2003

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times . . . Four score and seven years ago . . . I wish I were an Oscar Meyer . . . Got it! How about this? Hi. I'm Ron. This is my blog. Is blogging like splunking? Welcome to the somewhat strange world of my mind.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?