On Being 100

Welcome to my 100th blog post! There are no celebrity guests to talk to, or streamers or anything like that. There are people out there who probably make 1oo posts a month - it has taken me 7 months, but I rather like to believe that my blentries tend toward quality rather than quantity. But then I have a high opinion of myself.

I have written since I was a kid, but in the last several years gave it up completely. I never shared anything because I was certain it was terrible, or worthless or people couldn't identify with it. Let's face it, I am a bit odd, my humor is skewed a bit toward the insane and when I rant, I do it pretty effectively so how would I know if you (all) would see any value in a blog?

I can't believe I have as many readers as I do. I don't know how many for sure, but I am surprised when people say, "I read your blog." My mother is a regular as is my wife. They have both been very encouraging because they know it is my favorite part of the day. And while it has gotten harder to come up with things to say, it has gotten easier for me to hit the publish button without feeling like a giant waste of time. Well, I can handle the giant waste of time part, but I'd like to think I am at least an entertaining and insightful waste of time.

I have a few youth group kids who read regularly. I encourage them to see and say 'rainbow' in the places where the language gets a little rough. Self-censoring was never a strong suit of mine, even when social convention would dictate that anything other than sitting quietly would be inappropriate.

I had a class in college- Introduction to Anthropology, or something like that. It could have been such a good class, but the professor, who clearly taught only to bide time between research grants and field work was terrible.

I didn't make it easy on him. I sat in the back of the large lecture and read the newspaper. Loudly. I did the crossword and would ask the people around me if they knew the answers. Loudly. If I recall, a few cohorts from high school were in there with me and did little to nothing to discourage this behavior. Finally, it came to a head. He called me out in class and asked why I was being so disruptive. I won't repeat what I shouted at him, but it came down to him performing certain acts on a male donkey.

I got applauded by many of the other students and we walked out - many of us. Later I felt badly, (I can't imagine why, must be that good old Catholic guilt that I haven't been able to shake), and I apologized. We talked in his office for a long time and he was funny and engaging and interesting. Why couldn't he be that way in class? I don't know, but I never told him my name, and I got an A in spite of leading an insurrection.

I already told the story of a young me slapping an adult neighbor lady. I am sure there are countless other examples that people who know me could come up with. I find my boldness charming and largely lacking in a world where people aren't very straightforward. Like a strong breath mint. I admit, it is hard to hear when people are straightforward with you, but in the end I would always rather the band-aid be ripped off at once than peeled off slowly.

I stopped to see a friend at her office the other day. She was a mom from the neighborhood. She was always funny and let me get away with basically murder because she thought I was funny. And cute. Well, half-right ain't bad. Anyhow, we talked for awhile and those crazy whacked out things are what she remembers. My legacy is being a goof! I liked her because she treated my like an adult and was playful in a way that my friends my age couldn't be because they were stupid kids.

And with all this boldness and brashness, I still couldn't historically put my writing out for anyone to see. So, this blog has been therapy and fun. Now I say to myself, "I am gonna blog the rainbow out of this rainbow when I get home. Then we'll see who is so high and rainbow mighty." Knowing my release will be forthcoming, I am able to more appropriately control my tongue in the moment.

I have a few buds from high school who read. That's always nice, because while I have changed a lot, I haven't changed at all. I think I am a bit more sophisticated in my childish humor. But even though I don't remember being a cut-up in high school, people tell me I was. I guess it runs deep. One friend who reads, Don, was probably my first 'writing partner'. We spent a lot of time coming up with silly things. Parodies and things like that. I still remember a lot of things we wrote. We did a parody of Livin' on a Prayer called Livin' on Welfare. I remember the entire first verse and chorus of that. We both worked at Burger King and did a Tears in Heaven parody, "Would you know my name, if I saw you at BeeKay..." and a delicious "Mammas don't let your babies grow up to flip burgers." Ok, so nothing really ground breaking, but it was a start.

One cold Sunday it was dreadfully snowing and very slow. There was not much to do, so we made a song and a rap for the people who came through the drive thru.[sic]

"Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the food is so delightful, and since you've come here to eat, whatcha need? Whatcha need? Whatcha need?

After they placed the order came the rap.

"We've got your order crystal clear. You know you're smart, for stopping in here and as the snow may fall and wind may blow, please pull ahead to the second window."

It was here I first realized not everyone in the world sees or appreciates humor out of context. Some people loved it, some people complained to management.

My friend Heather reads the blog. She is a new edition since she up until recently lived like the Unibomber. She is the only person in the world who had a wireless dial-up network to the internets. She and I did time in Mt. Pleasant together. She is funny. She is very funny. And she has gigantic copper clangers because she actually got up and did stand-up as an Emcee at one of the local clubs. We did some writing together. I can't tell you the jokes because I don't remember, but I do remember the table all us buds were sitting was laughing like we were on nitrous and the rest of the place was almost utterly silent. But Heather kept working them and eventually got some laughs. At that moment, I was sure I would never do that. I need validation, not stony silence. This is, after all, attention and acceptance seeking behavior. Why else do it?

Some of the people I work with read the blog, which scares the rainbow out of my mother because I do so much complaining about work. John Tesh tells me that if I were being intelligent in my life, I wouldn't talk about work so other people could read it. Prospective employers may read my blog and current employers may, too.

It is my attempt to find something funny about work when work, no matter where you do it, can be downright awful. It is like my version of Dilbert, only not so innocent. Again, I seek redemption in what I must do but hate to do. I don't mean harm. Some stories contain hyperbole, others I assure you, do not. I make no intention of indicating which is which. I am trying to create a compelling or humorous story, or both, based on my very pedestrian existence.

To you, prospective employer, if you don't want someone who will give you the truth as he sees it without varnish or trying to save his or your rainbow, then keep moving on. I am done being someone other than myself for the benefit of you. There is a place for everyone and I hope you find the right person for your place. I hope I find the right place for me.

As for toning down the rhetoric of my blog, it is already pretty toned down by the time it gets to you. I actually run it through the mom filter before I send it out to the world. It's just that the mom filter isn't super stringent. You should see some of the stuff I write that never makes it.

Replete with typos, grammatical and punctuation errors, lack of continuity, changes in voice and changes is tense with no warning or reason (literary Crazy Ivans) and other egregious errors, this is my blog. It and I are imperfect, but hopefully in an entertaining and worthwhile way. Thank you to each and every one of you who has made a comment, or who has said in person that you really liked something I wrote. It makes me feel very good and fills me with positive energy that gets me through my sometimes negative days.

On the occasion I frighten, repel or upset you, remember that I seek humor and irony in all things, up to and including death, religious fanaticism, social distortion, mental illness and all other manner of touchy-feely subjects. It's how I deal with the darkness in the world. You may not be ready to joke about it, but I am trying to heal. This is how I do it.

So, onward to the next milestone! With tongue in cheek and flying fingers of fury, I will hunt and peck my way through the funny, the sad, the difficult and the rainbow-est rainbows of this thing called life. Won't you please join me? I love the company!