Dead Birds. Big Deal.

I've been getting into all things social media for a while now.  

I guess it started with AOL.  Remember AOL?  It was stupid popular back in the day.  And you paid for it.  Or it would screw up and you'd call AOL customer service and they'd give you like a free month or two.

And before she crossed over to the sad side and bought literal body parts, (lips!), Meg Ryan did the cutest little love story with Tom Hanks, "You Got Mail!".  And you'd meet like the hottest guys on AOL online chat rooms for offline blind dates and pray they matched their pictures and weren't hideous or serial killers.  

I mean . . .  your really good friend had those blind dates.  

Myspace, Friendster, Twitter, Facebook, Foursquare . . .  did, done, doing them all! 

Any ole hoo . . . I've always been aware of this whole blogging thing.  I love to write but blogging sounded very commitment oriented and therefore, a turn-off, and therefore,  not for me.

But then something super weird happened.  Thousand of  dead birds fell from the sky in Arkansas. . . then Louisiana . . .  then Kentucky . . . then Maryland . . . then Sweden . . . without opening credits or an ominous musical score.

It wasn't a movie.   It was on the news.  It was real. There was no explanation.  Scientists were baffled.   And then a couple days later, a logical explanation was presented.  Everybody breathed a sigh of relief.  And the world was right again.

Well . . . minus the use of past tense and logical explanation.  It is real.  There is no explanation.  

Big deal.

That's the weird part.   It doesn't seem that big a deal to folks.  And just like news of Lindsay Lohan yet again butting heads with law enforcement, (perhaps literally I might add), the country ingested it a quick second, widened its eyes in bewilderment a quick few seconds, scratched its head a quick several seconds, and then  . . . shrugged and moved on.

I guess I was expecting never-ending protests and picket signs, docu-dramas and pray-ins, Oprah and Stedman and Gail . . . you know the stuff that makes it clear something scary and serious is afoot and we need to hop to it and get it fixed.  And don't rest until we are all satisfied and reassured that all is truly well.  

So I guess I'll acknowledge the pink elephant in the room and say that I, for one, am decidedly concerned, largely alarmed, mildly annoyed, and . . . completely powerless to do anything about it.  

I think that's what's going on.  

Everybody realizes that though thousands of dead birds falling from the sky is absolutely bizarre and ominous, barring having a heavy duty umbrella on hand to shield oneself  from the plummeting bodies of deal foul . . . the reality is . . .  there's really not much anyone can do.  

That brings me back to this blogging thing. It has always been just in the sight of my mind's peripheral vision for a few years now.  I may not be able to confirm what caused or is causing dead birds to fall from the sky,  but I can most certainly attempt to 'journal' some thoughts, observations, peeves, projects, etc.  

You know, for science - in case the birds are an omen of a Martian invasion that will wipe out the planet.  If this and other blogs survive, the Martians can gain some insight about how Earthlings operated.  

Well, at least how this Earthling operated.