Don’t mind the clinking and clanking or the dust because it is just a sign of men working.
The 17 of us who occupy this one body are trying to figure out what plugin has decided to stop working because the blog mutiny hasn’t been put down yet.
It is disappointing to find out that our authority is being disrespected and that some of the finest posts located anywhere in the blogosphere aren’t displayed as we wish them to be.
That because posts like Love Between The Lines have pictures or quotes that add depth to the story but the images aren’t showing.
It is a disruption in the force that I cannot ignore.
These words and the posts they live on and in mean something to me.
Some more than others, enough that I can’t rest.
Yet I have other things I must attend to.
What The Cynic Says
The cynic that lives inside my head says it doesn’t matter because so many people skim through posts or use a reader that doesn’t allow the page to render as I wish.
He says it wouldn’t matter if people could hear the clang clang clang of the trolley or the siren song because they would be distracted by the chaos and clutter that surrounds us.
That dude says you wouldn’t notice if a gorilla danced through the room because you’d be too busy updating Facebook, pinning and tweeting so it doesn’t matter.
But there is another part of me that says it is time to ice the bad attitude and ask what happens if a couple of people read the posts on the blog.
Don’t they deserve the best experience I can provide?
And what about the new readers that stumble into this joint for the first time?
Those guys don’t know a thing about me and if they come here during the plugin mutiny what they’ll find are some giant spaces in between paragraphs.
Without pictures it will be vast white spots like they stumbled onto some arctic wasteland.
I took one giant step today towards the future I have been dreaming of.
Did my best to walk with authority and to look like I had been there before and if I am not mistaken my efforts will be rewarded.
It is too soon to say for certain and given a certain amount of paranoia I am not willing to say much more about it for fear of jinxing things.
What I will share is I was more than disappointed with the reception I received at home.
I shared what happened and there was no excitement from any quarter, no well wishes or “thank you for working your ass off to make life better for us.”
Just sullen attitudes and questions about whether I had thought about what I am doing.
I didn’t tear doors off of the hinges or blow the roof off of the joint but I wanted to. I wanted to unload a roar the would make a lion cringe and scream with frustration.
But I thought about the Game Called Fear and asked myself if this was where some of the pushback was coming from.
And so I decided it might be best to keep my thoughts to myself and give the fine folks around me some time to think about the things I had shared.
Won’t lie and say I wasn’t disappointed but it took some of the edge off of things.
How To Do The Right Thing
Sometimes the answer to the question about how to do the right thing isn’t based upon black and white choices of wrong and right.
Sometimes it is a cloudy pool and the only thing you can do is stare into the murky depths and decide to take a chance.
The blog is slightly broken and the mutiny continues.
I have a couple of ideas for how to fix it but none are particularly satisfying.
Can’t say if it is because during an age of instant gratification I am frustrated at having to work or I am exhausted by other things.
I just know that I’ll keep picking and poking and hoping that the combination in conjunction with my natural tenacity is enough to see me through to the other side.