One Of The Grumpy Old Men Of The Blogosphere

Turkmenistan - Camel Family

I am one of the grumpy old men of the blogosphere. I walk around smacking the young folks with my cane and tell them that when I started blogging seven years ago it was a different blogosphere than it is now.

Mean old man that I am I bark about how pathetic things have become and mock those who cry about not being loved, liked or followed. Because in the good old days we didn’t worry about such things.

No sir, we were too busy recording our thoughts on floppy disks and bitching about hard drives that could only hold 20 megabytes of information. You young people have no appreciation for how hard things it used to be, not to mention your education is weak.

Hell, this joint is filled with quotes from the likes of Mark Twain, John Donne, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Thomas Edison and Slappy the Talking Monkey from Cleveland.

Back during the Golden Age of Blogging we didn’t talk about how to do a proper Vlog or any such thing. Fact is that I was one of the early adopters of the audio blog and people used to get pretty damn excited to hear my voice.

If you mentioned a social network we thought that you were trying to use some sort of quaint term for a party or that you had a really sad way of coming up with euphemisms for swingers.

Back in the day we enjoyed listening to nimrods and numb nuts ridicule us bloggers. It was fun to listen to them accuse us of being nerds who lived in the basements of our parent’s homes.

Confession: While you were busy laughing at us we hacked into your computers and wiped out your bank accounts. Sadly we discovered that you were a bunch of over leveraged, financial misfits who could barely pay for your own stuff, let alone keep us supplied in Corn Nuts, Crackerjacks and soda.

Damn you Yuppies for making me pay for my own Jolt cola, No Doz and Ding Dongs.

Way back in the day I could tell the tales of my youth and the youths that call me pa and be certain to receive 129 comments, good ones too. They weren’t peppered with spam or self promoting yobs who run around the blogosphere.

Speaking of that it reminds me of the 1,983,093 posts that tell you how to become a better blogger. Well your grumpy old man is going to finish this post with a tale that sums up his feelings on much of the blogging advice that is given out:

Mr Shapiro, sixty-five and a widower, was having a lonely time in Miami Beach. He observed a man of his own age who was never without female companionship, forever surrounding him, extending invitations and regaling him with amorous advances.

One day he worked up the courage to ask this paragon: “Mister, excuse me, what should I do to make friends like yours?”. The man sneered and said: “Get a camel. Then ride up an down Collins Avenue every day. Before you know it, everyone in Miami will be asking who that man is, and you will have to hire a social secretary to handle all of the invitations.

So Mr Shapiro purchased a newspaper and looked through the ads. By good fortune he read of a circus, stranded in Miami, in need of capital. Mr S. phoned the circus owner and within the hour he had rented a camel.

The next morning, Mr S. wearing khaki shorts and a pith helmet, set forth on his camel and on to Collins Avenue. Everywhere people stopped, buzzed, gawked and pointed. Every day for a week he rode his trusty steed.

One morning, as he was about to get dressed, the telephone rang. It was the parking lot attendant to tell him that his camel had been stolen. Mr S. called the police. Sergeant O’Riley answered.

“What…you say someone stole your camel?”

“That’s right”, said Mr S.

“I have to fill out a form”, said the sergeant, “How tall is the animal?”

“From the sidewalk to his back, where I sit, a good six feet.”

“What color is it?”

“Camel color, a regular camel-colored camel.”

“Was it male or female?”

“What?”

“Was the animal male or female?”

“How am I supposed to know that?

Wait a minute. Yes, it was a male.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“But a minute ago you said you weren’t sure.”

“I’m positive, officer, because I just remembered…

Every time and every place I was riding on that camel, I heard people yelling:

“Hey, look at the shmuck on that camel!!”

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Comments

  1. @Mitchell Brown That would be wise sonny boy. Would hate to turn the hose on you.

  2. Mitchell Brown says:

    I’ll try to stay off of your lawn in the future, sir.

  3. @NewYorkDad Yeah and I did it having to carry a desktop computer because laptops hadn’t been invented.

  4. NewYorkDad says:

    You forgot to mention walking uphill both ways to get to the Internet Cafe to post 😉

  5. @michaelwsuddard That is interesting. I wonder if that is the case.

  6. @TheJackB @michaelwsuddard

    Hi Jack….

    As an added note, this site looks fine (comment section is right underneath the post) and the comments as typed look right as well when typed.

    Perhaps the Vista also was the culprit as well.

    Thanks

    Michael

  7. tom.the.girl says:

    lol love this!

  8. @Billy_Delaney Hi Billy. I am glad that you enjoyed that. It is an old joke and one of my favorites.

  9. @StartYourNovel Sometimes getting noticed is half the battle so there are some benefits to being the schmuck, I suppose.

  10. @Leon I like being grumpy. It suits me quite fine and like you said, hanging out with you makes me young and handsome. 😉 Always good to see you here Leon.

  11. @michaelwsuddard Vista was awful and gave me lots of problems so you very well could be onto something.

  12. @johnfalchetto John, that reminds me of a story. I am 16 years-old. A friend and I walk through Jaffa Gate and head toward the shuk. We wander through and look at the various items that the vendors are selling but don’t pay much attention.

    Eventually we hit a spot that isn’t quite the shuk anymore, and see a guy holding onto a donkey. He is trying to convince tourists to take pictures with the donkey for somewhere around $65,000 shekalim. As a point of reference, at that time the exchange rate was 1500 shekels to the dollar.

    I watched him try to “sweet talk” one couple. He kept telling the man in heavily accented English that his wife was a beautiful Sharmuta and remember thinking that only a ignorant schmuck would fall for that.

  13. You never age online Jack. Having lived around camels for years in the desert I can saw many smucks riding them 🙂

  14. Query: For bloggers, when does one become old?

    Seperate Thought: Remember my issue with the commenting system and the typing not showing up until 10 seconds later? It seems to be resolved! Here’s how I did it:

    1. Computer last week gave up for the dead.

    2. Purchased a new one at Staples.

    3. New computer has Internet Explorer 9 with Windows 7.

    Perhaps the issue was not Internet Explorear at all. I had Windows Vista on my old Computer? Everyone hated Vista, so perhaps we can blame this on Vista too.

  15. G’Day Jack,

    Loved the story.But youngsters like you claiming to be Old…..Really! What’s that make me? My eldest is older than you. But I’ve learnt the wisdom of that old saw; “If you want to look young, hang out with older people.”

    Something for both of us mate.

    Stay grumpy

    Leon

  16. StartYourNovel says:

    It’s better to be a schmuck with a camel than without one. Some will love you, others will hate you, but you will not go unnoticed.

  17. Billy_Delaney says:

    I am loving this and laughing out loud too.

    wonder who ended up as the next camel rider on that beast?

    Oh that there was a whole lot more of this to read.

    Thanks sir!

    Billy

  18. @columbiarose I disagree with Sammy Clemens on this one. It is not any harder for us than for the broads, dames and skirts he mentions. 😉

  19. @SeattleDad I think that you are right. I feel badly for them. I think that I should help rectify that lack of commenting by painting a comment. Does it have to be an animal or can I make up signs.

  20. SeattleDad says:

    I bet the cave painters were just the bloggers of thier time. I bet they rarely got a comment on thier wall.

  21. columbiarose says:

    Did you miss your nap again?

    Getting old is hard on men, I know. “From the time a woman is seven years old till she dies of old age, she is ready for action, and competent. As competent as the candlestick to receive the candle. But man is only briefly competent:…After fifty his performance is of poor quality; the intervals between are wide, and its satisfactions of no great quality to either party; whereas his great-grandmother is as good as new.” – Mark Twain. Letters from the Earth.

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