You know me, I strive to, when there is nothing to be said, not to say it.
Now there were times, last year, when I was trying to post something every day, Monday-Friday, that I violated this central tenet. Violated it hard. I didn’t like the results. And since there’s no money to be had in this, I stopped doing it. Felt if there was nothing of interest, it served no one to blather on about it. There are plenty of blogs like that.
So I find it a little amusing when I find an e-mail from WordPress in my inbox, informing me that my blog is “on fire”, at least according to the Blog Health-O-Meter, which is trademarked: 2010 in Review.
Thereafter follows some numbers to prove this claim, including the fact that I had enough readers last year to fill eight Boeing 747s. All this is a bit bewildering to me, as I realize this blog amounts to a road hump on the info superhighway.
I derive some mordant amusement from the fact that my most-read post was 7 Bizarre Ways Google Chrome Can Kill You Instantly, which is a post I deliberately titled with a newfound toy called the Linkbait Generator. I have to admit that it worked, so LOL, as the kids say. I used it again today! Can you tell?
Of course, the blow-by-blow on crapfests and other film festivals ranked well. I should hope so, as they’re most time-consuming to put together, not to mention the time spent in Fleshspace actually experiencing the events. There will be more crapfests, and there will be more writings about them.
I could have complained how busy I was during December, but you know what? I was too busy to do that. Trying to get everything squared away at the station before I was booted out for a two-week unpaid vacation, multiple shows per week at Mystery Cafe (which helped with the unpaid vacation problem) and a long-stalled writing project got the go-ahead (which is helping the aftermath of the unpaid vacation).
I got everything I asked for Christmas. I got my wife everything she asked for. The Boy did not get everything he asked for (sorry, Alienware computers and fully-functioning lifesize Mazinger Zs are bit outside our operating budget at present), but was happy with what he got. Then he dropped my old laptop which I had refurbished for him, destroying it, and rendering half my presents to him useless. There is a heartwarming Christmas lesson in there somewhere, but I have not been able to find it yet. All I know is I have schedule time on my own damned computer again.
The writing project continues, despite losing a writer over the holidays. I had forgotten how wearying this sort of writing-by-committee can get however, and it is rather rubbing my nose in the fact that I should be writing for myself, not others. Although the writing for others brings in a paycheck. And paychecks are good.
"But Dad, I'm about to wi - OH CRAP!"
It also means I have primary ownership over my computer by fiat. “I am working to buy you Pop-Tarts and orange juice by the gallon,” I tell the all-consuming moose in my office chair “You can blow the heads off perfect strangers at 3 in the morning, just I had to when I was your age.”
That is a lie, of course.
His mother buys the Pop-Tarts.
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