It’s 9:20pm. My kids are asleep, and I’m sipping a Coors. And this idea of doing this thing here has the OK of the Blessed Virgin Mary… at least as far as I can tell.
That’s a big deal. I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but it is. I’ve started a number of blogs and then shut them down again for various reasons. Why, you ask?
- Writing gives me headaches.
- I’m afraid of what people will think of me.
- I’m uncomfortable writing about people I know, even though that’s my source material.
- I go a little crazy when I write.
But I go a little crazy when I don’t write, too. Anyone else who blogs probably knows the feeling. Words, thoughts, ideas start piling up in your head until you either have a two-hour conversation with someone, or you write. I’m a pretty resolute introvert, and my wife, God bless her, is not much for long talks about theology, philosophy, and whatever other random flit of imagination has crystalized in my mind. God bless her for the times she’s willing to listen, the long-suffering thing. But such torture, no woman should have to endure. Hence, this.
For some reason journaling doesn’t quite do it either. I’ve thought of that. With blogging, there’s this idea that I’m actually forcing myself to say what I’m saying to someone, even if no one reads this. Maybe even if you don’t even know who I am.
And yes, you can call me gutless for making it anonymous. It’s not just for me that I keep it so, though. To be absolute truthful means hurting people you love. It means saying what isn’t pretty in polite conversation. I have a lot of ugly things to say, though not only ugly. Still, enough that I don’t think it’s worth making my friends and family feel uncomfortable, bitter, or needlessly offended.
There you have it. That’s as fine an introduction as you’ll get at 9:30pm, after my kids have gone to sleep and I’ve gone nearly through this can.