Does the world need another blog? (1)

Does the world need another blog? Of course not. I've been up since 3:00 AM (Central Daylight Time except there was no daylight). I often get in trouble while surfing; I always find it hard to sign up for anything. Every user name is apparently already in use. I've now forgotten what one I came up with.

The question is specifically: Do I need a blog? I'm a member of Yahoo's Writing with Humor Group--I've already committed a fair amount of embarrassing e-mail on that site which is open to the public. And just this morning (around 4:30) I signed up with another Yahoo group which is Andy Borowitz's fan club. I am a fan, but I had an ulterior motive I realize now. I just wanted to post a piece I had written about Borowitz and Harold Bloom.

I was surprised to see--shortly after 7:00--my 481 word essay had appeared at the site. The instructions said all posts had to be approved by the moderator which in this case is Borowitz himself. Didn't hear anything from him directly, but it was nice of him to allow the thing to be posted.

So now I am bracing myself to make an another entrance on The World Wide Web. This is the height of foolishness as I can't write enough to cover a postcard without an aggravated sinus/allergy headache. I've practically stopped posting to my Yahoo Humor Writers group as I laid a very large egg at that site on the twentieth of June. I've had a mild case of writer's block since--I say mild as I hardly qualify as a writer. (I joined the group 1-15-05; practically the only other writing I've done was for Chandra Clarke's online humor writing class I took last year.)

So I am a new writer, a beginner if you will. What's wrong with that you say? Nothing except the word "new" doesn't seem to fit someone who was born in the middle of the last century. I was born in 1945, the last year of World War II. I turned sixty on March 25. I am still up and working full time--not a drag on society just yet. What's shocking about being sixty is as I don't feel wise and mature as I always assumed I would. As a youngster, I was very immature for my age. Now that I am in my middle years--no doubt I'll live to be 120--I am still immature for my age. This is a disconcerting discovery. This can only mean that I will NEVER grow up. And on that happy note I must take a break. My sinus/allergy headache is calling for over the counter meds. And another cup of coffee, if you don't mind.