Wishing I'd traveled the hippie trail

There are a couple of topics that, if you write about them consistently on your blog, I'm liable to be sucked in. These are: James Bond, sex, being young and horny during the years 1991-1998, the beach, unicorns, pop culture, grammar and usage, ABBA, historical fiction, porn, and traveling.

And of these, traveling might hold a dearer spot in my heart than some the others. At heart I'm a frustrated vagabond. I know that a lot of people get bored looking at other people's vacation slides. Not me. I want to see, and while you're at it give me a running commentary. And if your travels consist of roughing it, or going the long way around, or going somewhere tourists don't tend to go, or going by yourself? So much the better. I'm an escapist, I guess: I want to go with you, even if it's only through reading your stories. Hell, one of my favorite people is Rick Steves.

I wasn't sure about Toukakoukan: In at the Deep End when I first clicked on the site. I thought, "Oh, another Long Way Round." The design is kind of clunky and a bit basic. But it gets the job done, with the intro right there on the front page telling you where to start. The About page is informative, but nowhere does it explain Toukakoukan. Also, Sam, add a map -- it's a good way for us to tag along. A search option wouldn't go amiss, either.

You read it chronologically: The trek starts in May 2008, but there's buildup to the trip beginning in August 2007. You can skip the buildup, though, because it's mostly bike repairs and girlfriend drama and, well, buildup.

Initially Sam takes on a motivational-speakerish tone, but this quickly disappears (for the better). At first he seemed a go-getter, which can come across a little frenetic and disingenuous to me, but I'm more cynical than I realize sometimes. But quite soon it became obvious that this is a smart kid. Really smart. And more independent and inquisitive and, frankly, mature than most I've come across, including myself.

It is, ultimately, a diary. The posts, although smart and interesting, are a bit unpolished. This is both understandable and forgivable: he's writing this from the road, stopping in Internet cafes when he can, recalling tales and experiences and people. And though a little slipshod, his writing holds these great little kernels of character and wry observances and keen insights.

I'll admit the discussions about bikes and gear bored me to tears, but I'm a girl. And Sam is so cheerfully game, irreverent, and strangely wise for one so young. I don't normally excerpt in my reviews, but I really liked these:

"...only yesterday I spent the night in a ditch, which is not as bad as it sounds surprisingly."

"I hastily put down my, by now, sodden map of Corsica to wave at a group of eight German overlanders who were passing by just as I realised I’d spent the last 6 hours going in a circle trying to get to where I already was."

"I arrived in Chur, bent down to take off my motorcross boots as they’re as about as suitable for walking in as a chastity belt is for the reverse cowgirl."

"Bumper cars sit gently rusting, never having heard the playful whoops of children in their midst."

So, it's a little scattershot, the paragraph spacing is nonexistent, he goes a long time between posting (hell, he's living on a bike, I'll give him a break for that), and maybe there's a little rambling philosophizing going on, but do I care? No. Not at all. Because this guy's traveling around on his motorcycle, seeing the world and meeting people and having spills and letting us tag along for the ride. I'm a sucker for stories, and this guy's got one. Not to mention the truly great photos.

Yes, it's been done before and documented. But every journey is different, as is ever traveler. And Sam is a talented storyteller with an engaging perspective and a unique voice. Once he took to the road, I couldn't stop reading. And I'm not done yet.

Sam, good job keeping track of this once(or twice?)-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Don't let the experience slip away -- document everything with intention. And when you get settled and are off the road, come back to the blog and spruce things up. I hope you're keeping a written journal, too. Take the stuff you've written there, add it to the great things you've got going here, pile in the photos, and really make this a cohesive and detailed documentation of your journey. It's fascinating, you're a great guide, and I can't wait to read more.







*The Hippie Trail

Girl, you'll be a woman soon

I like to think of myself as positive, cheerful, optimistic, even idealistic. The glass is half full, people are generally good, unicorns exist.

I realize now, after reading today's reviewee, that I may be these things, but for a 34-year-old. There's only so much innocence and idealism and cheerfulness allowed at a certain age, you know? Life doesn't let you hang on to that forever. Not entirely. Not without a healthy (or unhealthy) portion of cynicism and doubt and experiential reservation. These days I sometimes roll my eyes at the blind hopefulness of youth, the unswerving romanticism, the unfounded and likely-to-be-toppled idealism. But only sometimes.

Tabitha at Headed in the Right Direction reminds me that having hope, believing in something, and enjoying simple, innocent pleasures is worthwhile. They aren't my hopes, my beliefs, or my pleasures, but I can still appreciate the sentiment.

Her design is standard but with good tabs and organization. The About page gives us an idea of who she is and why she's doing this blogging thing, but Tabitha, you may want to include something about who Joe is here. Also, figure out how to import your old Blogger posts into your new Wordpress site, unless the focus of this blog is entirely different. I'm sure there's a way.

Now. I just want to warn my fellow cynical Askites: there's Bible study and devotional time and worship. Yeah. I know. But go with me on this.

She's young (that would be To Have and Have Not, not Honey I Shrunk the Kids) and in love (8 months? Get back to me after 12 years) and mostly cheerful and a bit naive and innocent in a charming way.

She's funny and honest and she tells a good story. Tabitha's a comfortable writer who knows her voice. And at 24, that's really very impressive. She rambles, but it's a cohesive, entertaining ramble, for the most part. She's long-winded and wordy, but it kind of works for her. Tabitha, you could stand to trim some of the fat from your posts -- go through and edit. But for the most part, I like your style, I like your rambling stream of consciousness because you do it well. A less skilled or personable writer would lose us in the words, would annoy the crap out of us by leading us hither and yon. But you do a pretty good job of drawing us in and keeping us there.

Tabitha gets it. She knows she's writing for an audience, even if she writes for herself first. "Cuz let’s face it, if I didn’t want input, responses, reactions, etc., I would make it all private, or just put it in a physical, paper journal, ya know?" -- Exaaaactly.

I liked this blog, in spite of myself. In spite of my wished-for cheerful optimism, I'm often a sneering cynic, especially now with bills mounting and love getting away from me and age settling in around my eyes. Reading Tabitha's blog was kind of refreshing, really. I don't share her values or religion or frame of reference, but she's kind and silly and thankful and so very eager but also, honestly, a talented writer. I can't help but wish her the best.

Tabitha, some further words of encouragement: you've got the conversation down. Branch out a little now. Get more creative, push your boundaries. Live in the words rather than just saying them. You tell us your stories with lighthearted optimism. Delve a little deeper, not for darkness but for truth, for maturity, for something at once raw and polished.

The folks you meet

The other day on my personal blog I wrote about my people. About the folks you meet who are instant connections, who fit, who just get it, get you. I was talking about face-to-face people, but I've found in my three years or so of blogging that my people are out there in the ether, too, churning out words I can relate to, being hilarious and insightful and smart and dirty and just my people.

A couple of months ago I found another one. They crop up like that, out of the blue, in unexpected ways, from a link or a post or a tweet. And there you are, connecting with someone you'd have never met otherwise, whose words resonate and whose personality shines through the screen.

Coincidentally, I pulled Here in Franklin out of the virtual hat to review today. I'd already been getting to know her, but today gave me a welcome opportunity to go back over the months of her blog and read it all.

She uses one of my favorite standard Wordpress themes. It's clean, uncluttered, and easy on the eyes. But I really hate the click to see more option in the archives. It's just so much work. I'm exhausted now. And if you can figure out how, Franklin, I'd add a search feature. That aside, she's got the About page nailed, the archives dropped, and her sidebars neat and tidy. Well done.

As LB illustrated in yesterday's review, boring blogs abound. But here's a writer who can make the most mundane, everyday thing (how much more everyday can you get than McDonald's?) interesting. She's southern, which wins her points from me, since I'm all southern fried. And Franklin is funny, y'all. She even has a sense of humor about cancer. She writes beautifully and confidently about silly, flippant things. No, really. Look at that grammar (which is fine, even though she rails against it -- and semi-colons are your friends). Admire the spelling. Revel in the gorgeous, well-constrained paragraphs.

She smart (she auditioned for Jeopardy, which just makes her my favorite person ever). She's not a natural housekeeper (me, neither). She's well-traveled. And I just pretty much agree with her (I can even forgive her the dog thing).

The only complaint I have -- which isn't a complaint, not really -- is that we don't get a lot of guts here. Oh, Franklin's entertaining and a stand-out writer and funny as hell, but she doesn't give us the inside scoop. Maybe it's because she's not anonymous. Understandable. But I am left wanting just a smidge more. A little more heart and soul.

Still, even without it, I fucking love you.

Make 'em laugh

Dizzblnd, my reviewee of the day, tells us in her profile: "I like having fun. Laughing makes me happy, making other people laugh makes me happy." This is true for, like, 98.9% of the population that isn't misanthropic. I'm not a misanthrope (usually -- Ghost and Thanatos and Love Bites are bad influences), so I might be rounding that number up. Making others laugh is a good portion of why I blog, too, followed shortly thereafter by exorcising my demons (there are only three or four) and talking about sex.

So, however inelegantly she states it, I get why Dizzblnd blogs. Laughter = good.

Her blog design, though, = bad. It's an unnecessary three columns with lots of whozits in the sidebars. And it's bright freaking yellow. The header is ok, if a bit overcheerful. And I like cheerful. There are links to her other blogs in the tabs, along with a shout-out to her blog designer and a link to Humorbloggers (our favorite). Dzz, consolidate into one sidebar and move your archives up toward the top.

I haven't a clue why this blog is called Soggy Doggy Bloggy. Aside from her extraordinarily generic profile page with blogger, there's no "About," so I'm left to just figure this person out on my own. Here's where I go on and on about an about page again. Seriously, folks, I just need one. Please. They help your reader get to know you without having to dive in blind, searching for glimmers of who you are. Just give us a little to go on. It doesn't have to be extensive, just the vitals. I wanna know who you think you are.

Dizz told us when she submitted for review: "I blog to hopefully give my stalkers a laugh or a chuckle every time they come. I am NOT a mommy blogger, although I WILL bitch about my teenagers occasionally." And you know what? She's right. This is exactly what she does. Dzzblnd seems like a fun, playful person who doesn't take herself seriously. She enjoys life, is silly and irreverent, and doesn't cater to her kids. She hates to clean, and she lives in Florida. I like her. I think she'd be good company.

But she frequently posts email forwards and other people's stuff and games and memes and tags and "Mad Lib Monday" and she even reposts her own stuff. Sigh. I scrolled over all these things. They added nothing real or personal or new or fresh. They're just rehashed bits of internet effluvia or exercises in patting herself and other bloggers on the back.

Dzz's writing is rambling, stream of consciousness stuff with no polish. She never claimed to be a writer, after all, but I still want more effort/concentration/finesse in her posts. However charming I might find her as a person, her writing is mediocre. As a "humor blogger" (setting aside for a moment our general contempt for those who label themselves that way), we don't get any meat or depth from Dzz, which is ok for her purposes. But it leaves me a bit unsatisfied. One cannot live on a diet of cotton candy alone. Alas.

Today you get a meh. But make it worth my while -- clean up the design, make it more organized, and tighten up your writing -- and I'd easily give you a star. You really are kinda funny, when you're not going on and on forever and using other people's crap as a crutch. Lay off the reposts and emails. Post when you have something to say, and edit before you do.