The Honduran Post Paradox

I call this current lack of blogging the Honduran Post Paradox.

Shortly after college, when my classmates and I were scattered by the winds of future employment (if CareerBuilder.com wants to trademark that, I demand a cut), we entered into it confidently that we’d all keep in touch. After all, thanks to the Internets, we had it EASY. There wouldn’t be letter writing, there wouldn’t be outrageous long distance phone charges, and for the love of all things postal, there wouldn’t be hand cramps from the writing of lengthy tomes. Our parents may have had to struggle with such hardships, but not us. No, sir. We are living in the age of the Computer, and the Computer remembers where everyone is FOR you. Good computer.

Everyone went their own directions and acquired new e-mail addresses. Some included domain names for impressive-sounding companies. Others had migrated to a new .edu address. And yes, some chose to rock this fledgling new startup called “gmail.” Regardless, if you got two people stuck in front of a computer during the day, with not a whole lot to do, you could exchanged upwards of 30 “letters.” Postage-free.

And then Jasen moves to Honduras.

As you may recall, one Jasen Andersen decided to spend his first two years of post-graduate life helping the people of Honduras via the Peace Corps. He probably spent 24 long months making Survivor references that nobody would get. The people of Honduras were eternally grateful for Yaz’s contributions, considering he had to leave all his family and friends back in the States.

As friends of Jasen, all we could do to support his cause was the keep him abreast of the goings-on in our lives as well as the news here in the States. Many of our friends rose to the challenge, including some who even went and visited him in his tiny jungle hamlet. I’d like to say that I was one of these friends – a trip where Grimm and I were to invade the ‘duras in the summer of ’03 nearly happened, if it weren’t for some last minute work obligations. (Or Grimm had to drop a couple grand on the Grimm Prix – can’t remember.) Alas, it did not happen.

Of course, I could always write the lad. After all, I had free time on my hands looking for a job and making sure the walls of my apartment didn’t fall down. But here’s where the rub lies. The longer I took to write him, the more monumental (in my head) the correspondence had to be. What started as a simple note to say hey steamrolled into a full letter, and then a chapter, and then a book, and then a parody, and then a play, and then a full journal. That’s the Honduran Post Paradox. The more you want to write, the more you get crushed by heightened inner expectations. Ultimately, I never wrote him, and as they say in Slapshot –

“You go to the box, and you feel shame.”

Some would say that we’ve gotten to the point on YAB with the backdating that it’s time to write a full journal in order to get back on track. It’s not that nothing has happened in the last couple of months. It’s just that energy to kick things off once again that has prevented me from writing. Yeah, I’ve been busy, but no busier than July 04-now, during which the blog has flourished. Well, instead of trying to write something epic to get back on track, let’s just start with a post. A simple post, like this one. ell, consider this a return.

It’s not grand yet, but it will be.

Welcome back, YAB. Welcome back.