Electronic communication, and these things called “blogs,” represent a medium I am singularly unready for. My amanuensis has suggested that I use it to place various of my essays and monographs for public use, and I do find this appeals to me, and invite you to make what use of them you may.
Among these, I shall offer presentation of a book of memoirs that I have long intended to write but am only now getting around to. It is, through the force of lifelong habit, being written for a medium that is more familiar to you as a reader than to me as a writer and you must therefore excuse its excesses of antiquated nomenclature. I am not replacing the “introduction” that was written in preparation for this as a printed book in mid-course, but I am adding to it a few words exemplifying the altered environment of these remarks.
I want to say to you younger readers (for I am rapidly approaching my hundredth birthday and can readily assume that you are that) that this is a work that reveals a degree of self-confidence that I am loath to have revealed. On the other hand, just the writing of a “memoirs” necessitates an assumption of some grandiose design in the preparation of such a work. This apologia is as close as I will arrive at an adequate excuse and can be taken as such.
That being said, let me merely add that you’ll have the opportunity to examine these words in the light of the results that may follow. From here on out, you’re on your own.