Drenched to the bone.

And accept it that soon

You'll be drenched to the bone.

 - Bob Dylan, from "The Times They Are A-Changin' "

Nan and I talked about change yesterday. She’s pretty adaptable to it—at least when compared to her husband Jim, who hates all change. And compared to me—I only hate most of it.

I did, after all, learn to type with only one space after a period after having used two spaces for 40-some years. I do, after all, change my hair color at least once a year, sometimes twice. I’ve learned not to flinch every time someone drops the f-bomb, calls me a snowflake, or indicates something I’m determined to blame someone else for might actually be my fault.

But there are things. Some of them are the hard, hurtful ones. My brother died recently and I’m still learning to live in a world without him. I understand the workings of grief and where I’m at in the stages. I also understand that at the age I am, loss will become more frequent as I go along. While my own mortality doesn’t scare me much, everyone else’s does.

Many of the changes in publishing are bewildering, to say the least, and often appalling. Cockygate, anyone? I remember in the workplace, seeing employees who stayed longer than management wanted them to, and wonder how long it will be before someone tells me and others like me that our voices are just too old to be attractive to the demographics publishers want to attract. For that matter, how long will the traditional publishers of romance even be around? It is a scary time to be traditionally published. I'm starting to feel a lot like a VHS tape.

But, surprise, surprise, this wasn’t exactly the direction I intended to go today. The changes I was thinking about were like these.

• All right or alright. I always thought alright wasn’t even a real word—Nan the Editor shrugged (no, I couldn’t see her, but I’m sure she did) and said they both mean the same thing. Hmmm… But I think alright looks stupid, I whined.
• Lay and lie. I’m not a grammarian, but I know you lie down, not lay down. I know in the past you lay down, not laid down. I've grown accustomed to the f-bomb, for heaven's sake--must I learn to like improper usage of lay and lie as well?
• I understand that "politically correct" has become a terrible, awful, no-good thing, to use some of Judith Viorst's words, but is being nice really so bad? Please, thank you, not calling names.
• Lying. Or as Nan says below, dispensing with the truth. It's become acceptable. Expected. Okay. I call BS, and that's all I'm going to say about that.

It appears to me that this post has been one long complaint, and I apologize for that, but thank you for listening anyway. Even the changes here in the round corral have been hard for me to get used to. I missed my last post, am late in getting this one up. Although blogs, one of my favorite methods of communication, are still popular, commenting is not. No one has time or maybe inclination, and I miss that. I do.

But I think it's okay sometimes in this time of everything changing, to feel as if we are "drenched to the bone." 

We’re still glad you’re here. Have a good week.