The start of the breakdown

An apologia.

Sincere regrets, dear non-reader. For the year sabbatical (though again, if a tree falls in the blogosphere...). There was a purpose and a plan after the string of short, snarky and/or cute posts of spring '07. Stop. Pause. Revamp.

And I have. There is a plan: five (make that six) things we'll finish in this little plot of ether we plowed years ago ("Hi, Welcome to this week's installment of Mix Your Metaphors! As always, I'm your host, Mike), and then we're done. I'll be done with the blog just as it is done with me.
Don't read this as some sort of discouraged, cynical condemnation of whatever it is this new medium has become. It's nothing of the sort. No really. As I told Jefe during SXSWi, I have nothing negative to say about my friends and acquaintances in bloggyland. My regard for you has not waned, I would never insult you, your hard work, diligence or wit. This spot here was perfect for me four years ago, a creative backscratcher for a place I couldn't reach. An opportunity to foray into travelogue, essays, procrastination, whatever.
But I'm done. Or very nearly. To paraphrase the 38th President
I haven't left blogging, but I'm pretty sure it left me. To paraphrase Heather Blakeman at San Antonito Elementary, "It's not you, it's me." If new media is the great equalizer maybe I'm a little tired of feeling so equal.

If you found yourself greeting that statement with a "maybe you should just dance off the floor then, Mr Doesn't-Get-It."

Maybe you're right.

* * *

But there is still some business to attend to yet. My original intent was to first reprint the essay I read on the radio the morning of 18 September, 2001 (my first hour on in a week). I thought it would be interesting to see what I said about the people of our country and in our government and that attacked the east coast. To see it in hindsight. It seemed prescient.

Then I read this. (I really hate this guy, he's good at everything). He says it more succinctly and well, better than I would have. Please read it.

postscript: Having already angered some over my reasons for departing this little diner of ideas, indulge a gamely insight on why some people want a seat at the counter--here.