I have read your introductory entry. You have addressed the reader – so shall I.
My son has asked me to write with him. With him, to him, at him – something, I’m not quite sure. I read his first post, the introduction to this blog. He said the purpose was not a destination but a journey. That is true, if cliché. We are less like Lewis and Clark, seeking a safe water route with a stated objective – but more like Daniel Boone – hacking through a dense forest, rife with danger, but compelled on for the sake of adventure.
Alice fell into the rabbit hole. She wandered. She ran into the Chesire Cat and professed that she did not know which way to go. He asked where she was trying to get to. She exclaimed that she was not certain. He responded that if one does not know where one is going – then it does not make much difference which way one goes. Thus our journey begins, uncertain but not indifferent.
I am an ode man. (That is how my family of origin might speak. Drop those L’s. Who needs’em? “It’s code outside.” Or “Here, hode this.”) I have learned to laugh at my lack of sophistication in matters of expression or presentation. We are sometimes blunt, even crude. But always sincere and forthright.
By chance, my son and I are both well spoken. He is a great writer. I am a competent writer. He used the word ‘debate.’ I would say ‘meandering conversation.” Sometimes we will probably sound like a debate – when so, we have found a particularly thick patch of briar that requires some effort to traverse.
For sure, this dialogue is not scripted. The reader will find our individual thoughts along with us. The very lack of script, the lack of destination, presents pitfalls and opportunity. I suspect we will respond occasionally to comments posted by others. It one runs into a bear in the woods it is wise to pay attention.
I am carrying a hard maple walking stick, a folding Buck knife, and a small caliber side arm. One must be prepared for a dangerous trek through unknown forests. I will not lead my son today – we walk together.