OPINION PAGE? NOT HERE, KEEP SCROLLING

An opinion page has one thing in common with others: A point of view.

Unfortunately, places like that usually have a point view skewered by need.

From a need for likes, for clicks, for comments, which all lead to search engine ranking.

The other need if for information, useful or not; direction, wrong way or not, and more.

This is where the savvy reader clicks “Read More.”

Too often Read More includes too much to filter through.

Read a thousand words on a blog post? Who has that kind of time?

It’s a challenge to read anything, no less to encourage reading.

“But Big D, are you a reader?”

Not only am I a reader, I’m an Evelyn Wood reader.

I peaked at four thousand words a minute with a forty percent comprehension rate.

Which means if I re-read what I’d read in one minute I’d have an eighty percent comprehension?

And if I read the same thing over for three times I’d have a 120% comprehension rate?

Either that, or I’d short circuit my brain, and no one signs up for that.

So I stepped away, backed off, and took my finger-sweep off the page.

Now I’m a slow reader who digests ideas instead of binge and purge reading.

 

Google Ranking For Portland Baby Boomer Blogger

DAVID G – Portland rolls in at #1?

I don’t often check where things rank, but when I do it feels like an reward for the work.

But it’s not the ultimate reward; it’s not money. Isn’t that the ultimate?

If this were more than a hobby blog there might be more monetization.

But if you look closely, there is no blog monetization happening. Why?

It’s not because I’m so naive as to think money doesn’t matter because ‘I’m an artist.’

Not because I don’t believe money makes the world go round.

I write this blog so I can say, “I’m a writer who loves writing,” which is almost correct.

The sort of writing that spins my wheels comes from out of the blue, which is where I come from.

When is the last time you stopped breathing after reading a passage?

That’s the sort of ‘write stuff’ I’m working toward.

So I embrace the grind. That’s what grinders do.

And I follow a schedule, a grinding schedule.

 

The Grinding Schedule

It starts like this:

Get up at 5 am and wash dishes from the night before.

Wife and I like to cook, which means using everything in the kitchen that pertains to food.

It’s a pile.

Why not do it the night before?

First, because it cuts into snuggle-time.

Second, because after laying asleep for the night I don’t want to get up and drop into another sedentary position.

So it’s make coffee, do dishes, stretch out, get the blood circulating, then sit down and scroll social media, which includes twitter, Facebook, and Yahoo News.

I start connecting the dots for the day’s topic. After enough of that, I compose a blog post one sentence at a time.

Why twitter, if I find it exploitive, negative, and trashy?

Because more than once during the morning scroll I read a post that takes my breath, makes me lol, or cringe.

Those are the dots I look for but don’t include here.

Instead, I adapt, adjust, and overcome the urge to cut and paste and call it good.

With that said, I take aim at a word count between 750 and 1000.

(It’s 574 right here.)

From title, to opening, to the middle, then the end, I write in a three part structure, you know, beginning, middle, and end.

Often I encourage non-writers to write, encourage writers to write more, and scholars to publish. (Hey Barry)

Does anyone listen? Why would they.

It takes fame and celebrity to move the mountain, not some hobby guy heaving up post after post on a daily basis.

 

Joining, Belonging, Membership

I’m not a joiner, a good friend or follower, but I like people . . . as long as I don’t have to prove it.

My wife thinks I’m squirrelly, kids think I can’t tell time, but the grandkids love me to pieces from birth to about two years old when I start ‘teaching’ and get boring.

I like boredom; so does Neil Gaiman:

 

How does he (Neil Gaiman) commit to non-stop focus, even on days he doesn’t feel like writing?

Boredom.

There isn’t much inside Gaiman’s shed:

No phone signal. No tech.

A few books and a desk.

And of course, an open notebook and his favourite fountain pens.

This is the place where he sits down and gives himself permission:

“You don’t have to write. You have permission to not write, but you don’t have permission to do anything else.”

He then writes (or doesn’t write) for hours.

 

Permission not to write sounds inviting?

We all have permission not to write, but some take it too far and never write a thing.

It starts with a shed?

Not a shed like J.D. Salinger.

If BoomerPdx was an opinion page instead of bloggy diary of Dave and More Dave, because the more Daves the better, a shed wouldn’t work. Why?

An opinion page requires a relationship with the world of current events, not some hermitic enclosure sealed off on a remote property.

However, my opinion of Salinger is similar to my opinion of F. Scott Fitzgerald, two guys who got scorched in two World Wars.

Fitzgerald came back from the shit to write about Gatsby who longed for the love he could never have; Salinger came back twenty years later to write about a lost youth.

 

Opinion Page With One Opinion

Too many older Americans say they’ve seen better days.

Why do they say that?

Because they’re lazy.

Better days is nostalgic, and if that’s what you need to make it through, watch old movies.

Not the 80’s, 90’s, 00’s, and teens old, but the 70’s and before. REALLY old movies.

After that try and make difference from one day to the next.

“How are you doing,” you’re asked?

“Oh, same old same old same thing different day.”

Pardon my French, or German, or whatever, but fuck that.

If that’s your answer, keep it to yourself.

And try and stop humping the leg of a scam-man making promises he made before.

He didn’t keep them then and won’t keep them now.

Wise up to feral men taking advantage of you and acting like you can’t tell the difference.

Why not pretend your education is more than an empty school in Alabama pushing students along with a social pass.

Instead of, “It was good enough for my old man, it’s good enough for me.”

As an old man, let me tell you, it wasn’t good enough then and it’s not good enough now.

Stop pretending you’re getting marching orders from some punk who has no clue about how to march, where to march, and get on the right track.

Start with a refresher course on common decency and go from there.

If you are a baby boomer promoting the good old days?

Snap out of it and make today something your kids and grandkids will remember the way you remember your carefree youth.

Besides, it wasn’t carefree back then for the adults, you just didn’t know it.

Now you know. 

Now go and wash this opinion page off of your hands .

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