My WireClub "Reputation" Status

Wow! Suddenly, I've acquired a WireClub "reputation" as a "VIP Member Lvl. 5". I wonder what that is...!? Does it entitle me to anything? Free parking? Admittance into the Level 5 Lounge? Discounts on purchases made over a certain amount? A t-shirt? Gosh, I feel so special! (My slight sarcasm is probably going to get me demoted. LOL!)

On Being Called A "Pedophile"

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April 15, 2009.

This blog was written back in November. It had been put away and forgotten about for months until Belle happened to read it and comment. Her comment led to another comment, and another, and another. Suddenly, this thing has come to life.

Actually, I suppose it's good to have it aired out again, but I want to emphasize that this is ANCIENT HISTORY, by WireClub standards, anyway. Since that time, I've made many good friends, and my entire approach to using WireClub has changed. As a result, I encounter far fewer problems with idiots like those described in this blog. It's a rather rare occurance now.

Hahaha! Look at the comments. They are all from November ... until just less than a day ago, when suddenly they started again. That's because everytime someone comments, it gets plastered on everyone of my friends' "Home" pages. It's come back from the dead, like a zombie!

So just realize that what is described here is essentially not happening anymore. So please, do me a favor, if you want to comment about it, send your comment to me as a WireClub message, so that it won't show up on our "Home" pages, and perpetuate.






Last night I was in WireClub, just pokin' around looking for a reasonably decent room and conversation to join. I came upon a room with about a half dozen other people in it. I enjoined with my typical opening: Helloooooooooooooooooooo roooooooooooooooom!

For a moment there was no response. We've all seen this before. A populated room, but seemingly silent. Then there was one single word texted. It was from the sole other male occupant:

"pedo"

Me, being naive, perhaps, or just daft, didn't get the meaning. I texted my reply:

"pedo?"

After a wait, one of the young girls in the room texted:

"lol pedophile"

I asked why he would say that, especially when I had done nothing other than to arrive and say hello. It was explained that my alleged pedophilia was based upon the fact that all of the other room occupants were aged 23 and below, and of course, I'm in my fifties. So I suppose, according to these cretins, when one is my age, simply existing in the same room is tantamount to leeringly offering candy to little girls in the park. And it didn't matter that it's impossible to know who/what is in any room until after one enters it and looks. The jokes and biting comments then continued, with each of the room occupants taking turns, chipping in and joining the fun. I felt like the guest of honor at a public stoning.

Look, I comprehend that these jerks were just being mean, having a little sadistic fun at the expense of the old hippie. And my skin is fairly thick. I've gotten used to various scurrilous comments thrown my way. It happens to everyone. But for some reason, this REALLY stung! On one hand, being my age in a sea of youngsters can be gratifying. While for the most part, I get simply ignored, many of these folks treat me really well, with respect and friendliness, something that I appreciate to a degree that's simply impossible to express in words. They have a sense of history, and probe me with questions about yesteryear. This, as I say, can be very gratifying, and nice for one's ego. But it also really chafes when you're automatically ... AUTOMATICALLY ... given second-class status just because of a number.

Perhaps I should have stayed and fought, but I simply fled. I fled to another room where my good friend A. was hanging out. As she does often, she greeted me as "gramps". I snapped at her, "anything but gramps". She, and a couple of others, pried out of me what had happened. (laughs) They wanted to form a war party and go confront the bastards, but I told them "no". Eventually, I managed to come out of my petulant little funk, and for the rest of the evening, had a very nice time.

Ahh, well, I'll survive. Another little layer of scar tissue. As setbacks go, this was NOTHING. I've conquered mountains compared to this little molehill. And so, I will simply push ahead. I like to try to make lemonade when presented with lemons, thus if nothing else, the experience has given me a nice little blog item. Thanks for reading!

On Being "Stuck"

Isn't it ironic that I'm usually referred to as "Stuck"?