The moderator has been running these weekly meetings for long enough to know when it’s time to move forward to the next member of the half-dozen group.
Samus could’ve talked more. She is a natural speaker. But for the moderator to let Samus talk more would have meant a reversal of roles.
With the snap of a whip, Samus could’ve talked herself into the role of moderator, and the half-dozen group would’ve transferred their attention from the moderator to the 42-year-old Samus.
The moderator avails herself of a short pause to mediate. To preserve her station.
Thank you for sharing, Samus. I am sure you won’t regret coming forward to your readers. It will add another dimension to your posts.
The moderator wants to mention another possibility. That Samus’s revelation may also limit the dimensions of her posts.
When she was known only as LonelyGirl, USA, her readers created their own image of who she may be.
But now LonelyGirl, USA adopted a definite name and location, to say nothing of the recent photo.
There will be no more speculation. LonelyGirl, USA has been mapped.
The moderator fails to mention this contingency. Instead she commends Samus for finding the courage and logic to tell her readers who exactly she is, what exactly she looks like, and where exactly she’s located, Zebes.
The planet Zebes, a large, open-ended world with areas connected by doors and elevators.
Is this what happens when you love yourself fully, thinks the moderator, a merger of the Private and Public realms. Eliminating the Private by making everything Public.
I’m not so sure about that, thinks the moderator, instinct tells me that it’s important to keep these two realms separate. There is the Private on one hand, and Public on the other.
But the moderator can’t dawdle anymore. She must move forward.
Tease words from the fourth member of the half-dozen group.
She shifts her eyes to the next seat over.
How have you been since our last meeting, Mach.
No one is expecting the moderator’s abrupt switch from Samus to Mach.
He is enthralled with Samus’s confession even though he has yet to read LonelyGirl’s blog, already on its 225th post.
He blinks his eyes quickly for a couple seconds. Straightens his collar.
I’ve been pretty decent. Can’t complain. I did cut out on a job last week though. I’ve never cut out before.
Now I know I’m not invincible. I know I can fall and hurt myself, or get a splinter in my face.
And I’m not talking about one of those wussy splinters.
Mach uses forefinger and thumb to illustrate the insignificance of a wussy splinter.
I’m talking about a real splinter. One that cuts into your cheek. Cuts into your forehead. Cutting out isn’t fun. It gets inside your head.
It makes you second guess everything.
The last time I cut out was when I was in training. Except then I was attached to a rig, so I just fell away from the pole I was climbing. When it happens in real life, there’s no rig.
You have to lean back into your safety belt and use your gaffs to spike the pole until something catches. At least that’s what they teach you. But when it happened to me, my first reaction was to hold onto the pole, hold onto my dear life.
I wrapped my hands around it, pulled myself in, and my face just slid down the wood. Got a splinter in my cheek.
The moderator hears nothing yet from Mach to encourage interaction with.
Cutting out the other day really brings home the hard reality in my line of work. A lineman’s pencil doesn’t have an eraser.
I’m out there climbing poles and cutting out. But the real killer is electricity! I have to respect electricity. It’s there even though I can’t see it. I can’t smell it. But it’s there, just waiting to find ground. That’s all electricity wants. To find ground. And it’ll burn you from the inside out if you give it a way to find ground.
A lineman’s pencil has no eraser. You make one mistake, and it’s either your life, or something close to it, like losing both your arms.
I have to respect what I work with. Everything else is hogwash. If I want to be optimistic, happy, I have to respect what I work with. That’s it.
The moderator nods. She encourages his non-interaction with electricity.