Looking for My Real Voice

I started this blog more than a year ago, and it hasn’t really been as much of a blog as a repository for some of my columns. I’m a weekly newspaper editor, for those of you who may not know, churning out thousands of words a week for publication to a readership in rural northeastern Pennsylvania. Unlike many bloggers, I don’t have a hunger to get my views and observations into print. because I’ve been doing that for a living for a long time.Yes, I have been a negligent blogger. I had not published anything on this site for months until I added the post that follows this one, which was my most recent column. I do have a few hundred loyal followers of my commentaries, possibly several thousand if a significant number of our subscribers indulge. I’m pretty sure the readership of this blog is minimal, which makes it pretty silly to use it to republish stuff I have already written. I share them on the chance that new readers might stumble upon them. Since the readers of my columns have no reason to come here, it occurred to me, improvising genius that I am, that I should start writing fresh stuff, possibly a little edgier, on a regular basis with an occasional column here and there.So I’ll be doing that for a while until I find my real voice.Technically, this is my first real blog here at skillunlimited.com. My general theme, as a guy recently sauntering into his sixties, will continue to be as an advocate, a voice, for my generation. That doesn’t mean I represent any of them. We’re still great in numbers, but we are overwhelmed by the digital generations, starting with my children, who are now well into their thirties and closely followed by waves of tech-savvy humanity almost young enough to be their children.I am excruciatingly close to being old enough to having adults as grandchildren. Biologically, that could be easily attained—had I had children in my teens and they, in turn, repeated the feat, As it turns out neither of my kids got married until they were in their thirties. Still no kids for either, which means I’ll have to wait until I’m at least in my eighties before I’ll see a grandchild old enough to vote.Come to think if it, maybe that’s something I don’t want to see.