On the Road Again

It had been a number of years since I started the blog and then one day got the bright idea that it would be very cool if I could write some of my posts untethered.  At that time the best I could do was to get my hands on an old IBM Thinkpad which was rather clumsy and which didn't have USB ports by which to transfer a written file from it to the PC for publishing.  

 Through the years I got a netbook and while it does a good job of things it takes forever for it to boot up and to launch programs.  With my extremely low patience threshold I knew after an attempt or two that it just wasn't going to work for on the road writing.  When I got a full sized laptop, it was a bit cumbersome to take out on the scooter, and far too good a piece of tech to risk anything happening to it out in the elements. And later even when I got a tablet it didn't take long to realize that I wasn't going to be typing anything serious on it longer than about a sentence.  It's like texting on the phone, which I despise on those touch screen keyboards; good for about a sentence or two, tops.

There I was at Best Buy a few days ago just window shopping when I came upon the cutest little Bluetooth keyboard that would connect nicely to my tablet.  Actually, there were two different kinds - one with a built in tablet easel and one that was just a keyboard.  After playing with both and then leaving the store to take my walk and to mull over which keyboard I thought would better suit my needs, I returned about an hour later and chose the one without the easel.  I already have a tablet cover that becomes a quick, easy easel, and using it would allow me to buy the much more compact keyboard which had a definite better feel to it.

So here I am at the county park that I often haunt, composing my first blog post using the tablet and keyboard.  I'm liking it very much, and foresee a lot more "on the road" posts coming your way, albeit mostly from the other side of winter.  Okay, admittedly it took me way too many tries with various pieces of communications technology, but I do believe that this time I have it right.

And, chicken that I am, when the wind started blowing up at the park and the sky got ominously grey awfully fast, I hightailed it out on the scooter.  I'm continuing this piece from the comfort of my deck, and with a warm cup of coffee to boot!

While I was still on the way to the park I rode for a time behind a dumpster truck that had "DOG DAZE" printed behind the cab.  Apparently that's the "name" of the truck.  I laugh frequently when I'm in a gated community at times (which I think of and refer to as the "Communist compound because of the elitist ways of its inhabitants) and ride around seeing all the little signs to indicate what the homeowners have named their properties and homes.  Does a house really need a dorkish sounding name like "Sparrow Villa" or "Windy Willows?"   I think not, unless you're the sort who likes to have little dinner parties for your elitist friends and such.  But, then again, why would some burly driver of a dumpster truck need to name his rig "Dog Daze?"

I should shut up now because I know some of my friends have named their scooters with cutesy sounding monikers, although I don't think any of them stop by here to read my scooter ramblings.  When I started the blog I never revealed its URL to my family and friends.  Many years ago, before the open internet as we know it was up and running,  I  belonged to a local BBS named "The Den" by its sysop, Bear.  It might sound silly, but when I logged into The Den, it felt like I was in a warm cozy different place rather than just at my own home in my computer chair.  It was like a hide-away place where I could "go" and express myself without worrying about what my family and friends might think about my writings.  Scootin' Da Valley is sort of like that to me now.  While it's not a "place" in my head like The Den was, I can still write from that part of myself that wishes to stay somewhat private.  On Facebook, they can all see what I think, but what I choose to share here is somehow different to me in a way that I can't explain.

Sometimes I write myself in to a corner in a way in which there's no way to end a piece that tidies up the random thoughts that come out of my fingertips as I'm writing.  This is one of those times, so I will bid you "Until next time!" dear reader without the kind of ending that leaves one feeling, "Ahhhh!" as one might at the bottom of a cup of hot chocolate that hit the spot in just the right way.