On this day, eleven years ago, I began clicking and clacking on the keyboard, not for pay, not at the behest of corporate conglomerates selling sugary brown fizzy water, and not with any stated goal in mind (this still remains the case).
On this day, eleven years ago, I entered the blogosphere and gave birth to RoundSeventeen, a blog that captured no one's attention, sparked no viral media and launched no one's career as a social media influencer thus spawning a sea of banal videos and questionably branded sneakers, knit hats or mayonnaise.
And we can all be thankful for that.
Actually, for the purposes of journalistic accuracy, I'm a day early with this entry.
Because as I write this, it is February 29th. A weird day that falls, rarely, a day after my birthday and a day before the R17 anniversary of March 1, 2009.
Not that it matters, but yesterday was one of my best birthday celebrations, as my daughter Abby flew in from Denver to surprise me.
I probably don't say it enough, but in addition to the melodrama, the tzuris, the never ending financial strife, the phone upgrades, the dirty dishes and the eye rolls, my daughters bring me the greatest joy in life.
And you guys, the 8 regular readers of RoundSeveneteen, come in as a close second.
Yesterday's digital birthday greetings came with a slew of thanks for the daily "chuckles and wisdom."
To be honest, it's been my pleasure.
And to be even more honest -- and anyone who blogs, or just writes, will tell you the same --it's also been my therapy.
Once that spigot had been opened, as it was 11 years ago, there was and is no way to turn it off.
Well, Coronavirus could put an end to all this.
But April is just around the corner and it's my understanding once the weather warms up, that shit will all but disappear.
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