I've gotten a real outpouring of support from you concerning my decision to take a hiatus from this blog, as well as the newsletter and any possible real life meetings. I've frankly been very jittery over it, wrung out, running myself ragged -- all the rest -- and you know some of the reasons why. I set my mind to do this, I took charge, I put myself out front, and now it seems like I've been failing you.
Let me just put a little confession here out front. I've never told anyone this, but here I am spilling my guts this bright morning. Oh, man, I can't believe I'm about to say this. OK, here goes. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for the drum majorette at football games. They usually find the tallest girl they can, a giantess, then put a hat on her four foot tall, and give her one of those big sticks to thrust in the air. She's as tall as the flagpole and kicks with the authority of a Thirty Ought Six, and it's something to behold. That's what I've been doing. I'm here with you, essentially the star of the show, the one indispensable element in the whole arrangement, standing tall, kicking with power, and now I've pulled back.
Of course there's some sadness in that. Can the show go on? It looks like maybe the show can go on, even though we're in a hiatus phase at this particular time.
For some of you -- only a small minority -- my hiatus is a problem. "Why don't you just get it together?" one discouraging note read. I believe he went on to call me "a drama queen," and threatened to take his patronage elsewhere, adding that there are a million or more blogs seeking followers, and new ones popping up everyday, and an estimated 99% of them were better than this one. And they don't spend their every waking moment complaining about their workload and the high personal cost that their labors exact on their sanity, equilibrium, and physical safety. To which I reply, "Well, la-dee-da for them!"
OK, sap! Go to one of those other blogs! See what I care! It's not for you, you scumbag, that I'm sitting here, even now with tears in my eyes, putting forth this effort! As stupid as you are -- ha! -- you probably can't read anyway, and no doubt needed your Mommy to write your scurrilous note! Didja?? And as for the statistical approach, yes there may be a million or more blogs and new ones everyday. There's also a million stars in the sky, each one a sun in its own right, but there's only one Sun close enough to do us any good. And as far as the blogging world goes, you'll never know which one of the million is putting forth the radiant beams. It's right here, nitwit! What a dim bulb. What a dweeb. Absolutely moronic. The kind of stupidity you can't make up. Sheesh!
Why don't you just get it together? That galls me. I also could ask him a few questions. Such as wondering why he doesn't just take a walk on a pier, if you've ever heard that one. It's an excellent question, designed to twist his little pea brain into enough knots that were they ever to untangle it they'd be left with not enough pea powder to make soup for a family of three ants for each to have a full bowl. I don't know. Drop it. Let the loser have his fun. Move on. I'll be the bigger man.
Most of the other notes I got I appreciated. You let me know you're hanging in there! And that's definitely something that cheers me. But one of the notes was especially sweet and is worthy of my fullest attention. It was a woman's handwriting, signed only "Love, J.B.," and, even though it was short, it was very encouraging. It came in the mail, I think, or maybe it somehow manifested itself out of the mist of the morning. It could have arisen from Mother Earth or it could have descended from the dew drenched hills. That's how good it was. In it, "J.B." was very sweet, telling me that she senses that my hiatus "is part of the master plan." As I think on that phrase I think of the ebb and flow of the tides. Or the way the Sun -- lord of the day -- sleeps at night. Nature itself speaks of a hiatus! "J.B.," you're in my thoughts. That's beautiful.
"Part of the master plan." So nice. Maybe she meant "part of the Master's plan." Either way.