An Experiment

Blogging has become the new "in" thing to do. I mean, who doesn't know at least five people who claim to blog regularly? Sometimes, I think we'll look back on blogging like we do pet rocks, Rubik's cubes and the Macarena.

However, unlike the above-mentioned fads, blogging has a chance for more of a lasting appeal. There will always be people looking to jot down their thoughts for others to see; that has been going on for longer than anyone can remember. The difference is, with the Internet, your thoughts have a chance to reach a greater audience than ever before. But, people have always looked for an outlet to express themselves on paper (even if it's virtual paper). That's why pen pals, diaries and newspaper columnists exist. So, while blogging may not have the popularity it does now, people will always be blogging in some shape or form.

Those who know me know how picky I can be when it comes to taking part in the trends du jour. I hate wearing clothing with designer labels. I did not become one of the millions who sported an American flag pin after 9/11. I've never consumed the Harry Potter or Lord Of The Rings fare.

How do I choose which trends in which to take part? I guess that has something to do with which trends I feel will always have some sort of permanance or relevance to me and to society as a whole. I never want to be one of those people who cringes when he thinks of the stupid trends I followed once upon a time (although I am sporting a flattop in my high school yearbook picture). For example, I have pages on Myspace and Facebook (when will social networking and keeping up with friends ever get old?), I'm the biggest Seinfeld fan around (a show that has been off the air for nearly 10 years, but still impacts our culture) and, now, I blog. Or, more accurately, I will try to blog.

So, why am I here? For one, I'm a good writer. This isn't opinion, but fact. I was the kid who hated telling my mother, a schoolteacher, I had an essay or paper due, because that would inevitably lead to all-night editing sessions. Child writes. Mother proofreads child's writing and hands it back to child with myriad corrections. Child re-writes by hand. Mother proofreads again and comes up with an ALL NEW set of corrections (where were these criticisms before, child wonders). Child re-writes by hand again. Repeat for several hours until child is ready to jump naked through a plate-glass window. As much as I hated that process, it made me an excellent writer. It gave me an eye for grammar, spelling and punctuation. It also gave me a sense of what "sounds right" and what doesn't since, after all, writing, at its core, is about feel. I also read a lot growing up, further aiding my feel for writing.

Writing isn't just about knowing how to write. It's also about having something to write about. The latter has always been my biggest problem. Oh, I have plenty of ideas and thoughts over the course of the day, but I have never been good at committing them to paper. I'm much more of a verbal person (hey, that's why I make a living as a broadcaster). Growing up, my mom also tried to get me to keep a diary, but that never took. The concept of writing everyday just didn't appeal to me. What was I supposed to say? How is this supposed to help me? I had a problem with capturing my inner thoughts and transfering them to the page. So, my diary entries would often be something like "Today, I woke up and went to the park. I played baseball for a few hours. When I came home, I watched the Mets lose to the Phillies on Channel 9. My mother made spaghetti for dinner." I got bored just typing that.

I think there is an art to being able to express yourself on paper. And it's an art I want to try to better at. Like any art, you only get better with practice. You may never be Picasso or Monet, but you can at least be better than the three-year-old who just throws his or her paintbrush at the canvas (although some would call that abstract art and pay thousands of dollars for it).

What will this blog be about? Simply put, it will be about me. My thoughts. My ideas. My sarcasm. After all, I think I'd suck trying to write about someone else with any regularity. Blogging at its best is a selfish endeavor. What's the point of trying to write something just becasue you think it's what others want to read?

Who do I want to read my blog? Everyone. After all, why post something on the Internet if you don't want or don't expect everyone to read it? If I didn't want anyone to read what I wrote, I'd have one of those little journals with a lock that I stick under my mattress. My mattress is already uncomfortable enough as it is.

Of course, I know not everyone will read my blog. Nevertheless, it would be nice to have a following. Not a cult following (I would make a bad cult leader anyway. I don't need people following me to remote ends of the earth just so they could be poisoned by Flavor Aid. Yes, it was tainted Flavor Aid, not Kool Aid that Jim Jones gave his followers), but a following. I know there are a few people out there who already find, or will find, what I have to say remotely interesting. And I think that would be cool.

So, we'll see how it goes. Check this page at least once a week. Hopefully, this will work out better than that last Hindenberg trip across the Atlantic.