Lancaster Comes alive!

A few months ago my sister started a Facebook account.  Her Husband a few weeks before that, and our mother a few weeks before that.  My first thought was "welcome to 2004." I couldn't imagine that my sister - who, though only a mere 5 years older than me, has always seemed to be far advanced over me in certain cultural areas - was a solid 5 years late to the party.  To have her coming down to my social circle was possibly more jarring than having my mother do it.  It's like some depressingly sad sign of the times.  "Everyone remembers where they were when Kennedy was shot, their first kiss, and the day their whole family joined Twitter." I felt oddly depressed and superior at the same time.

But then I started applying for writing jobs.  I'm a touch rusty, but Im a verbose fella - I'm not too far off from my intellectual peak, so I figure that all I need to do is whip up a writing sample or two and I'm golden, right? Yeah, not so much.  It turns out you have to be a netizen to the Nth degree in the modern world of professional writing.  Look it up, almost every listing will require you to have a blog, Twitter, Facebook, Myspace, 4chan, Corneliuswhite, and  Pets.com login.  Suddenly I don't feel so current.  I've become that guy who still talks about how awesome Pearl Jam is, or who references jokes from the Simpsons past season 12.

So now, faced with the prospect of working at another bank, substituting some high school English classes, or getting off my lazy ass and writing something online about any old topic that interests me - I guess I'll Say welcome to the Unshipped male blog.