I woke up this morning, stumbled downstairs and flipped open my laptop. Who was there to greet me but an old—and estranged—friend. As often happens in these scenarios, the conversation quickly took an awkward turn.
Me: "Oh my God! It's blog! Hey there ... it's been, like, soooo long."
Blog: "Yes. Yes it has. I hear you're well. I believe you're at Harvard now?"
Me: "I am, yes ... Look, I've totally been meaning to write. In fact, you probably noticed those posts in the drafts folder? I think I could still turn a few of those ... well, one is especially ... uh"
Blog: Meaningful silence. Blog glares in reply.
Me: Awkward laughter. "Okay, look, I'm sorry. I know that doesn't count. But you don't know what it's been like! The courses here are insanely demanding. I mean, Harvard professors expect you to read, like, a book a day. Every day! Who does that? And then there've been the kids. We had to get them into new schools, and Finn's daycare is in the opposite direction as Annabel's, andnd then there's all these parties—"
Blog: Still glaring. "Parties? You couldn't post to me because of parties!?"
Me: "Well, um. Parties isn't the right word, maybe. I mean, they're at night. And there's alcohol. And food. And, well, we dance sometimes. But mainly we're discussing important things. You know, the future of journalism and whether the New York Times will start charging for content."
Blog: "You had to assemble the finest minds in journalism and ply them with cheap Prosecco to figure out whether or not the Times would do what every J-School freshman already knew they were going to do?"
Me: "Look. You're angry. I'd be pissed too. And I need to be honest with you. I just needed a break, okay? We spent a lot of time together over the last several years, and we always wrote about the same stuff. I've been ... well, I've been studying intellectual history. William James. John Dewey. Charles Pierce. Pragmatism. And I've also been working on ... short stories."
Blog: Looking baffled. "Oh. Short stories. About crowdsourcing?"
Me: Sighing with exasperation. "No, blog. Not about crowdsourcing. Actually, they're just about people. People, not crowds."
Blog: "I see. You know. You could post them here. I wouldn't mind. And the only people who come by anymore are marketing dorks who punched "crowdsourcing" into Google and wind up here by mistake.
Me: "I guess that's an idea. I could just blog about what I'm doing while I'm on my Nieman? About my classes, and the smart, funny stuff people say? You wouldn't mind?"
Blog: "Mind?! I'd love it. I just, you know, don't like feeling abandoned."
Me: "Ah, Blog, I missed you too. And maybe from time to time we can post about crowdsourcing still."
Blog: Excitedly: "Short stories about crowdsourcing?"
Me: "We'll see, Blog, we'll see."