As a quick look at the header shows, my Mission Statement has increased by two items. Consequently, there will be further delay in my explaining Part 2. Parts 2 and 3 will present me with a considerable challenge, while Part 4 will likely never have an adequate explanation. In the meantime, let me say something I've recently learned about the reasons for "enhancing" this blog experience. Since I was 20 I have maintained a very detailed personal record of my life's events. I envisioned something like a "Captain's Log," and it pretty much started out that way; though with pen and paper, rather than audio recording. Still, I kept it faithfully for years. I always referred to those often worthlesself self indulgent writings as "Letters to my Future Self." In retrospect that has pretty much turned out to be the case. With the advent of word processing my journal grew exponentially, and reading those old missives seemed to take on a therapeutic property, sometimes giving an anchor to my "self psychoanalysis." It is amazing to go back a year or few to the exact dates one is passing through again and see how memory shuffles the deck regarding the order of events. The perspective can be often enlightening, and sometimes disturbing. It's funny how we tend to remember things in the light that most favors our preferred recollection. When I discovered and dove in to the Blogosphere, back in 2002, I wanted to separate the exercise in to more than just an online journal. I wanted to do commentary, but soon learned I had nothing to say. I have found it interesting to see how others use this medium very successfully to maintain networks of friends and to share experiences, photos, videos, music and personal trials and growth. As I learn more, perhaps I can fit in better. I'm still learning. For example, just the other day, I found out I can post my old science fiction story, and perhaps other writings as well. But I as much as I would like to keep my private life from interfering with this project, that is clearly impossible. I mentioned before that I missed most of last year due to a disability. I broke my hip, and there were complications that still have me bed bound. My very day to day existence has been made possible by my soul mate, my lovely wife, Cheryl. Alas, she will enter the hospital tomorrow for removal of a tumor from her spine. She is understandably a nervous wreck, as am I. I have no insurance and depend on her for everything. The suddenness of this news and its impact have us both scared. I had planned to wait for Part 3 to get into the discussion of faith, but fate forces my hand. I must ask, if you believe in prayer, please pray for her. This will be a trying week. Her son will check on me daily for food and water, but I haven't a clue how I'm going to change my wound dressing. I guess I'll try it myself. So there, I've taken the first step in opening myself up. I intend to continue filling this expanding space with interesting links, and articles of note. But before I leave this session I'd like to comment on how this whole journal thing began. Back in the summer of 1971, I was going through a tough breakup with a long time girlfriend. We still saw each other frequently, and she was much more level-headed about the facts of life than I. One day I was talking to the Youth Minister at my church and told him of my dilemma. I said that after she and I talked I would go home like a wounded puppy and feel sorry for myself. He suggested I try a technique he'd learned in college psychology. He said it was called a "verbatim." He said that after each disturbing conversation, I should go home and immediately write down, as best I could remember, every line of our talk." The goal was to be objective. It seemed to me that my hero at the time, Mr. Spock, would have thought such an approach, "logical." It didn't take me long at all to notice that in my transcription small subjective comments began finding their way into my "analysis." I became more discerning, and I soon found myself on the road to recovery. Seeing the bias that I was automatically adding to what was to have been "objective" writing changed forever the way I viewed events, particularly in retrospect. I think the change was for the better. The journal I started that day, June 12, 1971, continues to evolve, and I still am amazed to look back a year, or five, or twenty and see that same guy writing to me. I enjoy reading the letters I wrote to myself then. Sometimes I feel sorry for the pain he expressed in his heartbreak and foolishness. Sometimes I find myself saying, "Way to go, kid, you got that right!" Finally, I'm just glad he's still around.