In which I admire another blogger

This post references the MetaCamPage, which was a running featurette of this website for several years. It's been offline for decades now, but originally it displayed a single snapshot taken at regular intervals from a webcam mounted to my computer's monitor. Although it sounds inconceivable, this was a very common practice around the turn of the century. (The MetaCamPage would also sometimes show webcam images from other bloggers' webcams and/or a grid of photos from other bloggers.)

I can’t believe I read the whole thing. Well… the whole first page at least. So I’m sitting here at 3 am (and for some reason I don’t even acknowledge anymore that this is not normal) and I get an eMail from someone that wants to be added to the MetaCamPage. Of course this always amazes me because Dan‘s blogView is so much better that I can’t even imagine why anyone would want to be on my campage (it’s like, so April). I’m doing all kinds of funky shtuff with my CD-R and I’m kinda nervous about doing anything else while trying to record in the background, but I figure, what the hell? It’s already 3 am so if the CD-R crashes (it already has like 6 times) I’ll just start over. And I go to read 2210 greenwood road / welcome home and it strikes me that this page is wonderful. She is writing, blogging, whatever — straight from the heart. I read everything that was on her main page and I was enthralled. Call me voyeur. The site has no graphics, nothing fancy at all. It’s just her and her life. Very nice. It reminded me of why I started blogging in the first place. Nyah. I just wanted to give her a plug. I hope that things go well with Jeff. <grin>

And on a side note: I was an English major. Hard to imagine, I know. I guess I still am an English major. (Does one eventually stop being their major?) During the 6,000-some-odd English courses I took at the University of Florida I must have heard the phrase, “I was struck by,” at least, oh, 38 ka-billion times. I had one professor — can’t remember his name but he was a card — who instinctively would recoil when a student said he was struck by something because he (the teacher) knew I would make a rude, loud, aggravating comment about “striking”. Sometimes I miss college. When I’m at work now people get all huffy when I say things like, “What the hell are you talking about?!” or “Well that just doesn’t make any sense at all.” Oh well. Maybe someday I’ll just shut up and get off my high horse (yes, I have a stoned Clydesdale — shut up) and leave everyone alone. Not today though. And not tomorrow. Actually it doesn’t look likely at any point in the near future. They don’t even care at all…

2024-01-30: Broken links in this post have been removed and/or updated.

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What Is This? is the personal weblog of me, David Vincent Gagne. I've been publishing here since 1999, which makes this one of the oldest continuously-updated websites on the Internet.

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You can read dozens of essays and articles and find hundreds of links to other sites with stories and information about Ernest Hemingway in The Hemingway Collection.