ocean's twelve (months)

Yesterday, Nina celebrated her first anniversary of her blog with a rousing brunch that included her husband,* her two relentlessly smart daughters, Ann, and myself. When you are invited to eat over the Camics, you can count on three things: (1) great food, (2) great conversation, and (3) prior to either of these, something getting torched in the kitchen. This time, the bacon Nina had put in the oven started burning just as Nina began talking smack about something in my blog, providing further evidence that God Loves JFW.

Blogging was indeed the most prominent topic of conversation, and the fuzzy world of blogger ethics were recurrently addressed. I was judged a web-weasel for sometimes changing the times of posts, but, despite the reproach, I will persist in the practice as I see fit. I was surprised later, however, when Ann, Nina, and All The Other Camics readily agreed that if you send an e-mail to a blogger, that e-mail is fair game to be posted to the blog without further consent. In a spirit of nostalgia, then, I thought that--even though I haven't explicitly gotten Nina's okay to do this--I would go back and look up the very first e-mail that ever I received from Nina. Sent 1/14/04, here it is:

Ever since my daughters have pointed me to your blog, I've been periodically amused by it. I keep a blog, but mine really is quite primitive -- intended for friends rather than for the general public**.... I steered a colleague of mine at the law school to your blog just today because she was interested in starting one, and I thought yours was a better illustration of a really nice style than mine was. She was equally impressed and launched one just today.*** So, you've been an inspiration !!

[a couple general questions about blogs]

Just to buy answers to my questions, I'll include a REALLY DUMB JOKE that I learnt back in the 60s when I was in school:

So on a chilly December day, in the city of Leningrad (we are in the 1960s), a rich American couple is touring the city in a limo, chauferred by one of those dour looking Soviet drivers by the name of Rudolf. The husband looks out the window of the limo and says in delight "look, dear, it is snowing in Leningrad!" The wife, feeling at odds with her husband, looks out and sees only the wet drops hitting the windshield. The husband is adamant: "It's snowing!" He exclaims. "Raining!" She counters. "Snowing!" He insists. She turns to the driver for verification-- "Is it raining or snowing?" she asks coyly. "Da, raining" he answers gruffly. She turns to her husband with a smug smile: "Aha! You see! Rudolf the Red knows rain, dear."

Anyway, it's late and I'm tired, so I don't have the energy to type something appropriately gushy and mushy about Nina's blog, even though gushiness and mushiness are deeply deserved. Although, let me tell you, if you only know Nina through her blog, you are really missing out.

In addition to being arguably the single most irrepressible spirit to walk the earth, Nina is also one of the most generous people I know. As a small example, she goes all the way to Poland and New York City, and she took the time out to get me some magnets. Including three in her campaign to get me back to blogging:



You're the best, Nina! Happy anniversary! I raise a steaming mug of vegetable broth to my screen in your honor!

* Who, incidentally, said he would rather be forced to spend a year blogging--even blogging exclusively about either (a) obituaries that he read in the newspaper that morning or (b) irregularities in the UW library fine system--than to spend a moment inside a karaoke bar.

** Of course, she did not stay huddled beneath this cloak of secrecy for very long.

*** Yes, she was talking about Ann's blog.