A Day in the Life of Chaos

Incoming Message: August 29, 2010 4:41pm 810-941-XXXX >>Hey boo its desmine (Creepy crawlyy Who was this this desmine in Michigan and why was he sending me a text on my phone?  I scanned my brain, Creepy crawlyy, Creepy crawlyy... With so many messages flying around the world it is only natural some deviate from their intended course.  I guess it is the modern equivalent of a letter miss-sent.  The kind that shows up in your mail box and you are immediately consumed with guilt.  Should you: return to sender, try to find the right person or trash it?  It seems somehow computer communication has intensified the problem.  Now the single miss-key of a digit or a letter can make all the difference. I remember once sitting in the office in a base camp in Trinidad, Bolivia.  I was stationed with an agent and earlier in the day another agent had sent me a highly critical email concerning him.  I can't remember why I copied it but I did and pasted it in another location.  A

Well today we enter the blogging world. No, there are no followers, it is simply an attempt to be. Isn't that what we all want anyway? Just to be. There is something beautiful about the written word that is often lost in the text based communication of this age. We have been on a slippery slope traveling downward at an ever increasing rate. Sometimes from a distance I look at the life of my 93 year old grandmother. I think of the change she has seen in America and the world. The changes seem so dramatic, so historic. She has witnessed world wars and amazing developments in technology. Her living memory touches the memory of those who knew the nation when it was still young. When I compare her life to my own I feel as if I am standing still. While this may be the result of my myopic vision perhaps one of the biggest changes of my life, a little less than half of hers, is the written word itself. When I was young we wrote letters. We waited for a response to come. I re