So there’s this strange dichotomy going on:

On the one hand, I do the whole blog thing because it’s something to get the ’ole muscles exercised in the hopes one day, I‘ll be able to write something a little meatier (the blog being the training - laps if you will - before the marathon - a book if possible).

It’s not something so much produced for an audience, as much as a means to an end.

There’s also the guilty catholic aspect which views any ostentatious or prideful display as vulgar and shameful (man, that whole Catholic thing can take a lot of the fun out of life, I tell you).

Yet, I find myself surprised when I do hear someone actually reads this thing!

Surprised and pleased both for I can’t possibly imagine anything I produce being entertaining or interesting. Too many years of being beaten into the ground growing up I imagine - I know other people have gone through it but it’s one of those learned behaviors it takes years of therapy (and many dollars to break) and I’m a cheapskate so I’ll just have to suffer through it.

Anyway, I think I may have an audience of about a half dozen or so and to the select few I thank you for your kind indulgence. And of course, I do get a charge finding out people do read.