YES, I’M BEHIND ON EMAIL — and as this weekend’s light blogging illustrates, I’m not at the computer that much. My computer-savaged spine, shoulders, elbows, etc. have all recovered miraculously (as they always do) with a week’s vacation, and I’m not quite ready to start savaging them again. Meanwhile, Bigwig notes the nature of the problem:

I don’t get Lileks or Reynolds levels of mail. I don’t get anywhere near that much mail, it’s just that what I do get is already more than I can respond to, and if the email looks like my address was just one of many in a BCC line, then I’m almost certainly going to ignore it.

Half the mail that is addressed to me personally doesn’t get anything more than a once over. I just don’t have the time to write both emails and posts. Heck, the only way I can even write this one is to put Scotty M. on top of a pillow in my lap and type over him. He’s talking to my elbow at the moment, something about where his damn pacifier is. I’ve done this often enough that Ngnat has a term for it. She calls it the “Daddy Bed.”

So, my apologies for everything I’ve missed, and will miss. If you absolutely must make sure that I read and respond to your email, there is one way to guarantee that I will do so.

He’s right with his solution to the problem. . . . I just note this because occasionally people are personally affronted if I don’t make a timely response to their email. I do my best, but I get hundreds a day, and this is a hobby, not my job. Most people understand this, and have good manners. For the rest, well — there’s always Bigwig’s solution. Or another, less printable, one.