My life changed quite a bit in 2012.
I remember standing on the deck of my parents’ beach house where I was living at the time, staring off into the distance. The only thing I wanted was to get a better job. One where I earned decent money. One where I could move closer to home, closer to my nephew and niece who were still growing inside each of my sisters’ bellies. One where I could legitimately start my life as a working man, back on the grid.
I got everything I wished for. And more.
A new nephew, a new niece, godfather to both. A new job, a new location. New furniture, some new friends.
When chatting, texting, e-mailing, I have noticed that I say “LOL” quite often.
Of course, I am not actually laughing out loud. If I laughed out loud to my friend typing the words, “I burnt my meatloaf today,” you would think that there is something wrong with me. That I have no life, perhaps. And that simply thinking about my friend burning his dinner packs enough comedic punch for rhythmic, vocalized, expiratory and involuntary actions to escape my throat in laughter.
In reality, we have bastardized this acronym, using it as more of a conversation extender, a cheating response to something that was most likely not that funny. Or possibly awkward.
For example, let’s pretend Mark just texted Tim, saying “i love rachel and everything, but if I ever cheated on her it would be with that new secretary. damn shes hawt!”
In response, Tim says, “lol.”
The “lol” is inserted as a placeholder before Tim can say “Did you see that pathetic Eagles game today?”
Did you know that you make me vibrate?
You see, anytime someone comments on my blog, I get an e-mail notification. And my phone is synced up with my e-mail account.
So through the magic of technology, every time you post a comment on any of my posts, you make me vibrate.
The cool and really special part about this is that most of the time when I am at work, dealing hand after hand of poker and wishing I was doing something else, I will feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. And it snaps me out of my daydreaming and short-term misery and puts a smile on my face.
So think about that when you are commenting. Not only are you making Youngman Brown happy, but you are making the real me happy.
Imagine me at work with a giant frown on my face. As you click “Publish Comment,” just imagine that you are poking the real-life-me, letting me know that I have something to look forward to reading.
And my frown, as they say, turns upside down.
|Is that a vibrating phone (informing you that your blog followers
are engaged in your content) in your pocket, or are you just
happy to see me?