Wednesday, August 5, 2009

A Brutally Honest Post

I'm declaring August 5th "Brutal Honesty Day." And if I can somehow think of it next year on August 5th, I'll plan on observing BHD then as well. There's no particular reason for August 5th, except it happens to be that today and I feel I need to be brutally honest.

Friends, my readership numbers are way down. I used to get traffic through here like you wouldn't believe. Back when the words Information Super Highway meant something. But now nothing. On any given day -- in fact on every given day -- I'm here very much by my lonesome. And I know, I know, I did it to myself! 40 lashes with a wet noodle! There! Are you happy now?

When I was on my hiatus -- if you were here you could back me up on this -- I kept toying with the idea of going on permanent retirement. Remember that? I bet I said it a dozen times. Maybe I should have. I'd be in about the same boat. But I remembered the glory days and decided to make a fresh start of it, knowing there would be some painful rebuilding.

Now, I could do what everyone always does when the old ways are being neglected, like when modern things take over and kick the old ways to the curb. I could blame my predicament on other things that people are doing. Like Blu-Ray discs. Everyone's traffic is down, I hear, thanks to people suddenly hooked on watching Blu-Ray discs. But they're just the same as regular TV, only bigger, clearer, and more expensive. C'mon folks!

What's another modern convenience? The iPod. iPod-this, iPod-that. Podcasts. Pod people. Crazy people. I saw a kid with one of those iPods that has games on it, a driving game. He was running down the street and steering the iPod like a car. It looked weird because none of his turns coincided with turns in the actual road. Multiply him times the possible millions who could be doing this. Or playing an iPod airplane game and jumping off buildings. It's going to be tragic!

Yes, there's a lot that demands people's time. No one's disputing that. And look, it's August, the normal month for family vacations. Everyone packs up their station wagon and their 2½ kids and heads West or East or South. Then they get to the motel, let's say, 9:00 at night. And even though the motel has high speed internet, they're too tired from driving to type in the address to my blog and read it. Frankly, they're not even my target audience but when you're down to the bare scrapings and glad for those, beggars can't be choosers. I'll take anyone, kindergarten classes learning how to go online. With their parental web safety software blocking dangerous sites. (Teachers, I don't allow any blue material on this blog.)

All right, I've wasted enough time talking about possible excuses for the drop off. But we all know -- me and the obviously brain-fried halfwits who stuck around to watch me thrash about on a daily basis -- what the real reason is: The big stink I made during the hiatus. My proclamations that I didn't care what anyone thought, that I was going on hiatus. Yes, yes, I'm guilty as charged. Throw the switch. I'm safely strapped in the electric chair. I've got the metal bands over my wrists. My feet are tied down. I've got the thinking cap on with the little coiled wires. They gave me an enema back in my cell so I wouldn't gross out the press witnesses. I'm ready to die. Pull the switch!

OK, maybe I'm ruing my fate a little too much. After all, what really should I care if there are people here to read my posts? Good question. Why should I care? Is each one going to send me a nickel or a dime or a dollar? No. Will the local newspaper show up and do a feature story about my rise and fall and rise again? No. Even though they did a story about a dog that supposedly writes his own blog! Like a ventriloquist. They had a picture of the dog sitting next to his grinning master, who of course is the true author of the blog. I'm guessing. "The dog is blogging to raise money for cancer research." Give me a break.

I could go on and on. But because I am being brutally honest, I'm sure to lose whatever stragglers are out there. There's the door. Use it. I'll be OK. Like the old Patience & Prudence record, "Gonna Get Along Without Ya Now."

Got along without you before I met you
Gonna get along without you now
Gonna find somebody who's twice as cute
'Cause I didn't like you anyhow
You told everybody that we were friends
But this is where our friendship ends
All of a sudden you changed your tune
You haven't been around since way last June
Mn-hum, mm-hum, gonna get along without you now

Can I be brutally honest? I mean ... brutally honest. I don't want you to leave.

You know how I'm a big fat expert on group dynamics and all that. There's no dynamics without a group. Just solo dynamics. Everything needs a witness. Even a tree has a dog to pee against it. That's what makes a tree happy. Everything needs that. Including me.

We're really going to get into some hair-raising stuff with the Grange Brotherhood thread. You don't want to miss it. Really, it's going to be like a Gene Autry adventure, the way I envision me. A secret society, a cave, a couple of kids who help me out, our own radio show, both good and evil horses. As the horse said who spat it out, "The whole bit."

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