Sixteen Sixteen Sixteen

Sixteen years ago, my buddy Bill explained what Blogger was.  It took a while.  Lots yelling, a bit of crying and nearly an entire tablet of drawing paper, but after a while, I was yelling ones and zeroes across the interweb.

At the old salt mines, I tend to mark new hires by their relationship to major events from my life.  We occasionally hire teens at the salt mines.  To mine salt.  As you do.  And I mark their ages.  By the events of my life.  (There's some of that beautiful prose that just keeps you coming back).

In 2009, I hired the first person born after I was permitted to drive.

In 2011, it was the first person born after I graduated high school.

More recently, it was the first person born after 9/11.

Well, in personal terms, I'm gonna hire somebody at some point soon that was born after the start of my blogamathing.

It's been an interesting run.  It became less a primary hobby in the past few years than in its beginnings.  Still, if I ever need to come rant someplace about Marvel movies, flatulence or what I would do if I had a pet rhinoceros (the world's most dangerous game of ring toss comes to mind), I know that I have someplace to holler into the ether.

Anyway, I just want to say thanks for reading.  Thanks for saying hi.  Thanks for being you.  Unless you're a spy or somehow possessed by the spirit of a dead Mesopotamian Holy Man, then thanks for being somebody else!