And at the checkered flag it’s Jeffery Todd. And the crowd goes wild. Ok, I didn’t win and there’s no crowd. But this is my 500th Blog and I’d like to celebrate.
I don’t drink and sparkling cider just seems lame to me. So I guess I’ll have to settle for plain ole reflection. Hmm, let’s see.
The truth is I’m really grateful. When I started this blog it was purely because every thing I read about getting an agent said to get involved with social media so that you build an audience—so thank you all that have joined me. At first, I was just going to write once a week. But the number of days grew fast and I’ve gotten pretty consistent at six days a week considering it’s just about a year and a half and I’m at 500. All of them haven’t been brilliant but there’s been something nearly every day.
And that’s what I’m grateful for. I have discovered that I had more talent than I thought I had. And I don’t mean that egotistically because if I thought that way I would have also figured out how to get ads on here where I make money and not WordPress. No, I mean for many years I pretty much just had my magic/comedy act and thought I needed the magic in order to be funny. Turns out I never really needed those doves or rabbits and I could have saved myself years of cleaning up poop.
But I don’t regret any of that as if it stood in my way and I could have been a writer while I still had hair. No I’m happy with right where I’m at, and having to work hard at web design and not getting to work on my novel as quickly as I’d like is ok too. Because I have this every day. I get to think of something funny and write it down, WordPress let’s me put it out there and there’s been people that like it. That’s cool. That’s really cool.
I’ve had friends who’ve known me for a long time ask how I come up with something new every day. And I don’t know. But that’s the part that I am most grateful for, that it keeps coming. I’m going to stay open to the belief this race will never end and not question it. Just think of the next one.
Weekly random thoughts. Since I’m self-employed it’s my version of water cooler talk: no one to talk to so it goes out to cyberspace.
Does it make me racist that the commercials for Jif brand hazelnut spread freak me out cause I’m seeing peanut butter “dark?”
I wonder if stool pigeons resent their name because they actually never get to sit down?
Do marshmallows ever want to go on strike because of the way they are mis-treated compared to other food items that face the camp fire, all that melting and squishing?
I think that the makers of Gallo wine originally wanted to call it Galileo, but they were too drunk to spell it.
In an effort to live a quieter life, my burp is worse than my bite.
I wonder if the creators of tacos were just too lazy to eat their salads with forks?
I didn’t watch the State of the Union—did we beat the Confederacy?
The difference between a vegetarian and a vegan is not about the dairy but really about the willingness to never celebrate Halloween the same again.
Imagine how our cities would look if Picasso had chosen architecture.
I don’t have a television, so my Super Bowl is a l-o-o-o-o-t of chicken noodle.
This is it man, this is the goal. 🙂
It must really be tough to be a kid today, especially one that lives in the Midwest. I thought understanding the three branches of government was difficult, but imagine being taught about the dangers of global warming when it was 17 degrees below zero when you woke up?
How a young mind must be confused being told that the polar ice caps are melting when your boogers are frozen. How you hear that the sea levels are rising and you won’t be in a swimming pool for a long time. How hard it must be to fathom that the oxygen level is depleting when you can see your breath for a mile and a half!
I picture my grandmother if I was a teenager now. And I mean the kind of a teenager who learns just enough to be very passionate, mostly obnoxious, about a subject like global warming, and how she’d have a field day when it was so cold like it is right now. “HA!” she’d say about how I told her that her hair spray that kept that beehive Bride of Frankenstein-shaped hairdo nested on top of her head was the culprit of global warming. “HA!” she would say that I accused her of contributing to the damaging gases floating into our ozone because her Galaxie 500 car muffler was held together by duct tape. “HA!” she would say even though I hadn’t said anything more but she was always drinking Dewar’s and drunks aren’t really paying attention to the conversation as much as needing to make a point.
No the older generation would have had a field day with this kind of day mumbling Al Gore should have never won an Oscar, science is stupid and how they walked ten miles in the snow to school. And the poor, confused kid would just say “I want to walk to school Grandpa but the schools are closed.”
“But it’s been a long time.”
“I am sorry Adolph, but you are staying in time out.”
“Today is the day that is filled with surprises, nobody knows what’s gonna happen,” sang the Mickey Mouse Club of the 50s, the ones that didn’t grow up and show their private parts. I think. The song unexpectedly popped up in my inner jukebox yesterday and I started to think, “do days still hold surprises?”
Is it just the cranky inner me, that I’ve gotten older, or can my inner child regress back to the crib when you woke up with excitement and anticipation? Or is it just that expression came from a time that everything was in black and white, not just the TV, so anything would have been exciting? Because I pretty much know how every day is going to go.
- Some young actor or actress will expose themselves, post an inappropriate comment on Twitter, or go into rehab.
- Some politician will say something without thinking it through, post something inappropriate on Twitter, or expose themselves.
- Some one will do something absolutely unthinkable in the name of religion, human rights, or social beliefs. Probably while exposing themselves.
So maybe it’s not that there can’t be any surprises, there just aren’t any? Over the last couple of decades, everything once considered unacceptable, unallowable or unbelievable is now the norm. And I’m not a prude. It’s just become that the shocking doesn’t exist, not a whole lot more we can do that pushes the envelope. And that just seems sad.
I’ve said something similar before in this blog. I think it’s because I want things to change so bad. Whenever I see something amazing someone does, a really beautiful unselfish moment I get so hopeful we’re turning a corner. But around that corner someone’s exposing themselves.
But I won’t stop believing. Have a good weekend!