It took awhile, but I caught the blogging bug. I now greatly anticipate the postings of certain bloggers. I look forward to hearing what they are up to, how they are doing. They become friends of sorts as I hoot and holler in support along the margins of their blog life.
And every now and again, one strikes some gold and writes something just beautiful. So is the case with my Canadian agent Guy Wonders who blogs neighborhood life in Cul de Sac Blues. Now, I've been a fan of "the Sack" for over a year. Mr. Wonders makes me laugh myself silly with his aptitude for capturing conversational nuances. I know that this kind of blog isn't for everyone, but he struck gold this week so I have to share.
Head on up to the Sack. I know all the characters, but you don't have to for this entry. A jogger has begun running through their cul de sac and everyone notices. Guy Wonders could be a woman named Sherri who lives in a high rise in Nairobi, but this posting is so true, so sublime, and, as is the Wonders way, so damn funny, it transcends space, gender and time.
Thank you, Guy Wonders, for this wonderful window into your life. Print this one out. Put a copy with your will. Have it read at your funeral services. And for the rest of you, if the Sack reminds you of any other blogs, send me a link please.
3 comments:
You remind me of my running. When I was working, I ran in a nearby park at lunchtime. Since I retired, I no longer have easy access to that park. So I have to run on my development's streets. Recently I visited a neighbor to sign a petition against some nuisance motorcyclists on an adjacent property, and the neighbor says she has seen me running several times. Like the "handsome man", I run with shorts and a light T-shirt, or sometimes no shirt.
But do you remember to wave to everyone?
Aw, shucks. I'm not even sure what "shucks" means, but I'm saying it anyway.
Handsome Man seems to be popping up even more lately. I saw him three days in a row before I left on vacation. Perhaps he knows he was the source of much inspiration and perspiration. . . .
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