Is there any chance that Bubba could become a bloghead?

B y luck, I arrived at the Crawl On Inn just in time to catch the end of a long Bubba Gravelhauler tirade about high gasoline prices. It was perfect timing because I missed most of his blustering, and because I had the chance to remind him that high-priced oil generally guarantees someone who works in the oil patch a comfortable living.

He quickly changed the subject by saying, "Hey, somebody said you was doin' some bloggin' these days. How's that goin'?"
"Oh, we're just getting the deal off the ground. We're hoping it will catch on."

Bubba nodded. "Yep, I hear that's real popular these days. Seen some of it on television."

I frowned and asked,

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, all them celebrities goin' on that show and makin' fools of themselves."

Then it hit me. "You don't even know what blogging is, do you?"

He looked a bit sheepish. "Well, I think I know what it is. It's some kind of dancin', ain't it?"

When I got finished laughing, I replied, "Actually, you're pretty far off base. But you might call it dancing with words. Blogging is just putting your thoughts on the Internet. It's sort of like writing a column, except it's in cyberspace rather than on paper. And, yes, I do have a blog and, yes, I'm posting my columns on my blog, as well as some other random thoughts when they pop into my head. Actually, several of us at the newspaper are doing that on our website. Heck, you could even do your own blog. It wouldn't be much different than the time we let you write columns about politics. You got lots of opinions. It's a chance to share them. You'd have a bigger audience for your complaints about high gasoline prices, for instance."

Bubba was already shaking his head. "I don't reckon I could do that."

"Why not? You're always giving somebody a piece of your mind. This would be a chance to give a bunch of somebodies a piece of your mind, such as it is."

"Nope, can't do it," he shot back.

"Give me one good reason."

"How about two?" he replied. "One, I don't have a computer. And two, I can't type worth a damn. Used to take me forever to write one of them columns."

"But there's no time limit on posting a blog. You could work on it for hours if you wanted. And I bet you could learn to use a computer without too much trouble. Besides, it might keep you out of the bars, which would save money to pay for the higher gasoline costs."

My pal looked annoyed. "I don't want to do anythin' to get me out of the bars. That's one of my few pleasures in life. But I guess if I could find me a bar with a computer, I might give it a shot. You be willin' to help me get started?"

Against my better judgment, I said, "Sure. But first we need to get you a laptop and find a Wi-Fi bar."

Bubba scowled, "Why do I have to go to a gay bar to blog?"

"No, Wi-Fi means a place that offers wireless Internet access. Maybe your first blog could be about all the stuff you don't know about the electronic age."

Bubba's eyes were glazing over. "Maybe I'll just order another longneck and forget about the whole thing. If you want me bloggin', you do it for me. You been puttin' words in my mouth for years."

That's when I decided to just dance around the whole subject of blogging when it comes up again.