Dragged Into The 21st Century Kicking and Screaming (OK, maybe just wimpering and whining)

The moment I click "publish post" is the moment I lose my virginity. I'd been branded a Luddite by those in my circle and I took it as a compliment. I was all pens and paper, Webster's Dictionary on the floor, book of maps at the ready. Internet? Whatever. Who needs it. We've made it this far without it and I'm doing just fine.
"Really?"
Seems Lara, my wife, had been reading my thoughts . . . again. And the tone of the sarcastic response made me out to be a liar. Dang that woman.
No, I haven't been published. I'm not even a writer. Yet. But I'd like to be when I grow up.
"You said that at your 40th birthday party."
Don't you have yard work or something?
"Well, yeah, since you don't do a damn thing outside."
Ouch.
Speaking of growing up, it seems I better start soon. That 40th birthday is a couple of years in the rear view mirror and retirement from the mortgage paying job is smelling like a reality.
"You don't have a portfolio."
I have a cache of workable short stories. I'll revisit them and send them off to a couple of literary magazines.
"Try blogging."
I'm married.
"Ha ha."
I have to admit she's had some good ideas. This one included.
So, welcome all visitors to my blog spot. My plan is to slowly introduce my family, friends, life experiences, and interests. Then watch me tangent away from all of those topics as I continue to type.
I hope you enjoy as much as I . . . (and that blogging morphs into a legitimate excuse for getting out of yard work).