I’m not adept at saying goodbye. If I can get away with it, I just throw a quick wave and a “see you later,” to anyone who happens to be looking in my direction. Outward emotions are not my strong suit.
But goodbyes are inevitable, aren’t they?
I’ve had a ton of fun blogging here at InkSpot during the past three years. During that time, there have been two things that have kept me blogging: my terrific blogmates and our fantastic blog readers. So thanks everyone! See you here, there, and everywhere!
For grins, here’s a rerun of my very first InkSpot blog, from April 1, 2009:
Hi. My name is Alan Orloff. I'm the new kid on the blog.
Throughout my life, I've written all types of things, including newsletter articles, technical reports, business plans, press releases, users manuals, Website content, direct mail packages, performance reviews, PowerPoint presentations, advocacy articles, editorial pieces, business correspondence, reference letters, grocery lists, technology abstracts--even Twitter tweets. But never a single blog post.
Not ever. Until now. This is my first, so please, be gentle.
Today's topic: How the post-WWII suburbanization of the country changed the way southern literature was viewed by the northeastern cognoscenti.
But first, I need to vent a little.
When I joined this group, I was thrilled to be associated with such a great bunch of writers. They seemed nice (in the blogosphere, at least) and they welcomed me with a host of friendly greetings. Everything was peachy. But…
I guess I'm just a little surprised at all the stuff a new blogger has to do. I mean, I understand I'll be toting around everyone's laptops and book bags at conferences. And I get that I'll be buying drinks for a while, at least until my new guy smell wears off. I'm cool with all that. Because it means I'm part of the gang, for better or worse.
It's just that some of the stuff I'm supposed to do seems a bit…extreme. (GM, I might be a little late coming over tomorrow to wash your windows. It all depends on how long it takes me to reseal JB's driveway. She says she wants it done right this time. And Tom, I've never been a sparring partner before. It won't hurt, will it? I'm allergic to pain.)
Don't get me wrong, it's nice to have so many people pay attention to you. But I'm getting some weird vibes that maybe things aren't what they seem on the outside. For instance, one of my new blogging buddies compared me to a guy named Marx (and not in a good way, I don't think. Of course, I couldn't really tell what he was talking about--he used a lot of big words). Another wanted to flat out get rid of me--before I'd even written a single post! And I'm not sure what to make of the fact that the email messages welcoming me to the group all had the words "FRESH BLOOD" in the subject line.
Here's the last straw. Keith wants me to come over and cut his grass. But how high could it be? It's only APRIL FIRST. What kind of FOOL do they think I am?
I need your help, InkSpot readers. What advice do you have for me, the new guy, about how I can fit in with an established bunch of bloggers? (Please, in addition to your comments, let me know when I can come by to powerwash your deck. I do good work, just ask the gang.)