On The Wagon?

It’s strange to think that my brother’s blog about my rejection from a stay-at-home mom’s group would be the very thing that would kick start me back in to blogging, but it has, in a way. I say that, even though I don’t really intend to write about that particularly weird chain of events. But it did get me thinking about why I haven’t written, and then, of course, why I should.

If you’re reading this, and you haven’t read the other, then go here and you can read my friend Deb’s essay on why she got mad, and a bunch of commenters who are variously sane and insane.

And I guess that’s what drove me away from posting. I myself wasn’t getting a whole lot of comments, and I wasn’t really asking for them. I had a lot of people telling me how much they liked my writing, and they also, for the most part, thought they saw a tiny shred of average sanity in my bloviating, and that was kinda fun for me. But the thing is, on so many other blogs, there was this thing…

Okay, y’know how you’re sitting by yourself, maybe just drinking a soda or taking a crap or… or doing both, I guess… and you just start thinking stuff. You’ll think “Plastic. Hm. Plastic… I wonder how much stuff is plastic” and it’s just a dumb thought. Or you’ll think, “Bugs. Imagine. Just being a bug and looking up at the world and only getting, like, two days to live your whole life…”

And that leads to something, where, for about a whole minute, you’ll be completely consumed with the idea that bugs have rights, that you should honor bugs. And then you stand up, flush, wash your hands… and by the end of it the idea is completely gone. You don’t really care about bugs any more.

The problem is, the world is full of curmudgeon buttholes who do these retarded mind-games while sitting at their computer. They read other people’s blogs, and before they can stand up and flush, they’ve posted these wildly stupid ideas in their comments section. And when they are called out for being stupid, they’ve already invested their time and their name (or dumb ass nickname) to this dumb-ass idea, so they start the torturous task of digging themselves in deeper.

It’s turned me off to blogs entirely. I quit reading my brother’s blog for sometimes weeks at a stretch, even though I know he tries to post every day, even though I know the thing is like an albatross to him. I quit reading it because people have written phenomenally stupid things in the comments section, and then when I meet them, I realized that the internet is the problem.

These aren’t stupid people. At all. And even what they are saying isn’t stupid, unless you believe that the written word stands as an end-point for a view, instead of the beginning of a fluid conversation, which is what it actually IS when you meet people in person.

So, I quit posting. I didn’t *decide* to quit posting, I just realized that I was humping a whore that didn’t love me and charged too much. Every time I had time to write, which was almost never, there was always something far better to do. Like… anything. Anything was better than adding to the noise.

But the thing is, I don’t really have any other way of keeping track of my life. And… do you know what’s happened since I stopped writing? Barnaby is basically a kid now. He’s walking and talking and has opinions and has struggles… We produced a show, a show I really, really liked, and I didn’t write anything about it.

My wife has a new job! She’s starting at the end of the month! I bought a bike! I’ve recorded a bunch of new music! I actually wrote most of a score for a show that, at the last minute, I pulled the plug on because I just couldn’t do it as well as I wanted to!

I mean, I’ve had a lot of blogs up in this shaky noodle of a brain I’ve got. Not to mention, every sixth blog that I read really should have my blog explaining why I think they’re wrong. On top of that, I’ve seen some theater, and I think I could add something to the discussion…

I’ve got this huge hole in my blog, from Christmas until now, from before Barnaby could even walk to now, when he’s a toddler stealing shit from other kids.

So, I’ve decided to keep humping this whore because she’s the only ride in town, and maybe the cost isn’t *too* high. I’m gonna shoot for writing during Barno’s nap, if I can make it happen. I’m leaving comments open for the time being, and I believe I’ve learned to take what everyone says with a grain of salt, so feel free to fire away. Tomorrow, I’m hoping to talk a little more about this Stay At Home Dad thing.