I confess that as my network of acquaintances in Blogaria expanded, and as the frequency with which Mike Golby blogged declined, I lost track of him — dropping by only on those rare occasions when I worked systematically through my bookmarks or blogroll. You young’uns won’t remember some of the long, dark nights of the soul through which Mike narrated us, but take my word that Mike has been there and back, more than once, and he brought us along with him (and with him we survived South Africa’s deadly traffic out there on Highway 61).

So when I saw that Jeneane was pointing again to Mike, with great good news of his family, I took a deep breath and revisited the halcyon days of Pagecount. It brought back a lot — the whirlwind of those early Blogarian communiques, with darts of imagination and wit flashing around the world at the speed of hyperlinks, seasoned with the strange exhilaration of discovery, of finding wild souls whose associations redefined “free.”

Congratulations, Mike — not just on the occasion of the wedding, but on all that went before it, all that it’s cost you, and all that overrides the costs and bursts forth in joy and grief and love and death and truth, oh truth, and glory. Congratulations, and thank you, and bless you, Mike. Missed you, man.

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