I don’t share very much in this weblog. Partially, this is because of time constraints — I don’t often have time to work on the computer at home, and I’m usually too busy at work to post more than very shallow links to other sites, often as a sort of centralized bookmark for my own future reference. Another reason is privacy — not for myself, but for the other members of my family. I have no real qualms about sharing things that happen in my personal life. There are many events, both funny and sad, that happen with my family that I’d enjoy sharing. But my wife is more reserved about that sort of thing, and she has good reasons for that, and I respect that.
Perhaps this is why I enjoy reading many of the other weblogs that I come across and read on a regular basis. It gives me a taste of something that I’d like to do myself, but can’t. Every time that Zeldman writes another installment of My Glamorous Life, I laugh, or cry, or get angry at all the appropriate places. I like it when Scott talks about what he saw during his vacation, or his ongoing battle with the yellowjackets in his yard. And I’ve gotten to “know” Mark Pilgrim through the various writings on his site. While I never went as far down the road as he did, I did travel on it for a short while, so I can understand some of what drives him.
“What road?” you may ask? Read on, dear visitor. Read on.
