I don’t know what this blog will be. As such I will let it define itself, for the most part. Thus, a preamble becomes wholly unnecessary, yet, here one is. I suppose it’s a declaration, a warning to the reader, a self-aware degradation of bloggers that allows me, prideful as I am, to actually become one. People always ask me…are you still writing? And I answer some version of “a little.” Which is a lie in which I count the fine art of writing electronic mails with phrases like “circle back”, “touch base”, “friendly reminder”, “bandwidth”, “stakeholder” and other wasted key strokes. I say this because saying—”nah, I quit on all of my creative dreams”, just sounds so…I dunno… defeatist?. My album never took off, my short film never made any festivals, my book proposal was turned down 12 times in a row by major publishers, my screenplay never got optioned, and the countless other projects never got off the ground. I take pride in failing because I tried—hard— to chase my passions. No, not the hardest in history, and I wasn’t willing to sacrifice love, happiness, food and housing security, or my dignity…well maybe a little dignity. But I tried very hard and very young to be creatively significant, when most people don’t seem to try ever. I tried hard enough that now with 2 kids at 30 years old, it feels like the most noble thing is to adjust. I will not be a billionaire or win the Pulitzer prize.
And that’s OK, right? I’m happy, I’m pretty sure…I mean, I think. Yeah…yeah—I’m f***ing happy—most of the time at least. I have two awesome kids, a smart and attractive wife and I love them all immensely. I have a moderately above-average income in an America where the middle class is dwindling (or at least being redefined). Some would even call my daily obligations a career, in a dynamic and fun field. I legitimately enjoy Talent Acquisition (the aforementioned career), despite its headaches. Long story short, people around the world and throughout history have sacrificed and even died for their children to have the CHANCE at the opulence I enjoy with this “inside-the-beltway” American existence my wife and I have created for ourselves. But millions in America (and tens of thousands of people in the DC metro region) have equal-to-or-better stats than myself. They don’t have my family, or my career, so the uniqueness of my life makes it special, says Elmo. Meanwhile, Voltaire says “We must cultivate our own garden” and I say that bullshit to myself when I ruminate on my own insignificance.
I will never be famous, and for some time now I have legitimately stopped wanting to be. I’m old enough and self-affirmed enough to realize what an ass-ache that would be. Adulation and Wealth are nice and all but not worth the cost…at least not worth the cost to pursue any more. My family relies on my steady income, so I can’t take 6 months to write the great American novel, or two years trying to get a screenplay green-lit. Who knows if I ever had the chance to be good enough anyway.
But a nagging ache persists. And it’s that truly being creative (at least what I call creative) in corporate America is career retarding, and often a “fireable offense”. I need a creative outlet—so a blog–that’s what people do, right? That makes sense . It’s a thought I had a decade ago, re-suggested countless times by family, friends, shrinks, and the culture as a whole.
A thought that always prohibited me from action was “what’s the point?” A diary can help you understand your thoughts and feelings, an e-mail conveys messages to a friend or colleague, freelance writing makes you money, and you need an audience in order to entertain for entertainment sake. My blog likely accomplishes none of these, and it’s not as though the world is aching for more bloggers. But alas, among the self-involved, the experts, the neurotics, the clever, and the nerdy, there’s surely room for one more. And so it begins…
I have no idea what I’m going to write about, as I’m not traveling, a notable cook, or about to have a baby (I already have 2), and I have no capacity stay on topic. I thought about focusing to a theme: some arenas where I have some perspective as an enthusiast, such as Rap, Comedy, Pop Culture, or Philosophy. I thought about some topics where I’m a subject matter expert like Recruiting, DC Companies, or Movies. Or some topics where I’m the worlds’ pinnacle authority like Scrabble, Fantasy Football, or even “Straight Baller Sh*t” as a concept. On the other hand, the easiest way to be unique is by writing about my own existence and experiences—that self-indulgent drivel I lather on here, but others have little need or patience for. Or I could link news articles and opinion pieces, write inflammatory commentary as a hail-mary pass to achieve an audience. Or I could put up pictures of my kids—because they are cute as hell. My wife does a pretty good job of that here.
I suppose I will do a little bit of all of these and we’ll see if a theme emerges. We will see if anyone reads or enjoys such musings. At the very least it will keep me busy for a stretch as my life churns through the space time continuum toward my inevitable expiration date. Racist rants and dumbass opinions are welcome in the comments section. And if you must…put some positive feedback and suggestions in there too.