Matters Of Little Consequence

‘There is no one way to blog, there is simply a way to blog. Choose that which speaks to you, and if it doesn’t suit someone else? Fuck ’em’

My rebel yell style of play was going strong by June of 2007. The above thought came from a blog post which drew some acclaim for calling out the “Sam Houston Bloggers among us” who lorded over the blogosphere as if they owned the fucking place. It was a stinging response to a blogger who had called me out for not being down with blogging etiquette. The dude also happened to be one of Dan’s networking pals, and they had something in common; they were better at making connections than at actually writing.

Dan had been away from the blog for over a month when a case of viral meningitis landed him in the hospital. He was still keeping tabs from the sidelines though, and he had a few somethings to say about my bridge burning episode with one of his compadres. But I possessed hand, in the form of stats. And they were booming. My feud with Sam Houston had trickled from his comment thread to my own, with followers and daily notifications of crazy. We made it onto the featured blogs of the WordPress front page, after which I wrote a “Thanks But Who Cares” post in response which was quickly- and rightly- taken down by Dan. Admittedly, I needed a muzzle sometimes.

But I didn’t wish to be a part of a fraternal order. I simply wanted to spill my thoughts onto the page, with no preconceived notions or obligations to anyone or anything but the thoughts in my head. Because to pattern my writing after what I perceived to be the popular branding method would have been to cheat myself, and everyone else. It stole away improvisation and replaced it with a homogenized rendition.

I had effectively exorcised the Britney sugar walls episode with a post titled How To Prevent A Shark Attack, which sandblasted any residual effects of my spiritual nadir. Granted, it wasn’t great literature by any stretch. But at least it was writing and not a porn centerfold. The comment thread churned on for weeks, with a couple notable favorites; Like Patti. She introduced herself as a marine biologist and then began to critique my shark attack strategies, point by point. Then she let me know some of the best moments of her life were spent around sharks. So of course . . I had to respond in (not so) kind, and I finished my thoughts with this.

One last thing. If some of the best moments of your life were spent around sharks, it means you’ve never been laid. Good luck with that. And keep reading!

And then there was Marek- a German filmmaker who was interested in using the image in my post for one of his film covers. I told him ten grand would do the job. He took it seriously and we actually went back and forth in emails for a while before I had to break it to him that I was joking.

That was how the blog went. People either got the joke, or they didn’t. But regardless, they were reading us up. Because when we were good, we were very good. But when we were bad, we were buttah. The blog was a marriage of ugly and pretty words, and they were making babies. Furiously so.

It was to wit, the pretty words that won over The Dame. A Mother’s Day post titled My First Girl had her gushing like a school girl. Of course, outside of the Manson family, the overwhelming majority of dudes have pretty words at the ready for their mothers. I was gladly accepting of her glowing comments and our ever more involved emails to each other. But still, I was miffed at how a virtual stranger could fall for simple words. I read my Shakespeare, and I know that it works. But the logistics of it never did make much sense to me.

“You ask too many questions,” Dan said in response to my questioning her love and affection for my modern day romantic side.

“Yeah, because I realize that writing something beautiful and heartfelt is not the same as being something beautiful and heartfelt,”

“Whatever works, Marco”.

To my way of thinking, it was much too easy to make someone believe in something that wasn’t real. And with some background to go off of, I knew that she was clinging to the version of me that suited her struggling spirit. But hell if I wasn’t doing the same thing. And it didn’t matter any longer because we were a snowball, running away from the peak and straight into a catastrophe.

The morning of June 7th produced one of my least inspired efforts in months. I had too much on my mind and so I took the easy way out. I bashed the Washington Nationals new ballpark, which I equated to a money pit mausoleum for a minor league product.

The Nationals move falls in line with ‘elite’ franchise ticket prices, such as the New York Yankees, who are charging up to $400 for top seats this season, exempting natural blonde strippers. The Boston Red Sox charge $312 for an infield dugout box and $500 for a ten minute conversation with Curt Schilling. The Los Angeles Dodgers charge $450 for some premium, game-day seats close to the field and $300 for a picture with Tommy Lasorda’s penis pump.

When I got home from work that night, I checked the blog and then my emails. And there it was, the prayer to all my answers. The Dame. Her email was short and sweet and it included her phone number and an invitation. She was blaming her impetuousness on the Pinot.

I had no such alibi.

67 thoughts on “Matters Of Little Consequence

  1. B,


    That said, the common thread in this series – and it is but this simple girl’s opinion – is your brutal honesty. About yourself. About what you believe, or don’t believe, in and what makes you tick.

    You are not an easy man. You don’t follow the rules and that is what is most appealing about you. Even if you keep us all at arm’s length while bringing us right into your core.

    And I don’t blame The Dame for being won over by those pretty words (I know I was) – regardless of all the questioning it caused you. Almost everything we do ~ I do ~ causes me to question if it is all an act. seeing who/what we want/need to see. Plus, I’ve come to realise that, not always with catastrophic results, those virtual strangers can bring a lot.

    Again, a fabulously written memoir…


    Liked by 1 person

    • Q,

      The honest truths were hard to come by back then, because I was trying to see something that wasn’t there. This isn’t to say it was a horrible descent or that she was a horrible person or that it was all a horrible mistake. Because as we move forward, it should become clear that it takes two to tango. We tried. We failed. Hopefully there was some learning.

      There is an arm’s length relationship I have with sanity, as cliched as that sounds. It leads to not so good places, and that’s being nice. Writing a horror-scope in lieu of meds? Imma take that deal every day of the week. While I can.

      The questioning was a for real aspect of this initial experience. You know we all do it. The million and one questions to wit, with nothing coming back in any kind of definable expression. It’s interesting to think on this NOW, and to see what all those questions meant. Because . . and here is the irony. I don’t think she was wrong to believe in those words. I don’t think anybody is wrong to believe in something “fool” (as a songwriter would call it). It’s just that, I find it interesting how those questions worked themselves out to such an explosive degree, like wow! That shit was crazy!

      I’ll try not to be so morbid. But there is going to be a couple dips in this pool yet to come that I would like to think will be cathartic. You gotta expel, yanno?

      You’re so lovely and true to me. And I am thankful and blessed.



      • Honestly, B… who can ever really see the honest truths while deep in the deed? You might get an inkling but you dismiss it on account of you are still in the throes of discovery and surely, you can’t really judge yet, right? (So you tell yourself.) And yes. Every single thing we live through, good and bad, are learning experiences. Sometimes we need more than once to get it.

        Kudos to you for choosing to write over meds. No matter what it is you are writing. (Besides, it’s great for your readers 😉 )

        I don’t think she was wrong either. And who knows what words will trigger whatever that comes after? She saw something in that post that spoke to her and little voices or not, we must (well, we don’t really HAVE to but…) dig further if compelled to.

        I think this whole series is very cathartic to you. And I think you will come out on the other side lighter and freer.

        I feel thankful that you feel I am true to you. I am.

        Liked by 1 person

        • This was tale of two city-ish in that the heights were insane (dead giveaway) and the depths were painfully ugly. And you’re right, we don’t see it for what it is while it’s happening to us. All those questions and doubts get numbed by the exhilaration of it all.

          Meds suck. I do not believe in them, for me. I do believe they have value for some, but for me, I always KNEW I was on them. All it did was dull my senses. I was more depressed as a result. No thanks. Hence, running and writing.

          This series is quite fascinating to me, because it trashes the idea that she was some kind of crazy chick. She was many things, and while things she did were indeed crazy, there was a genesis for it all. The better way of describing her was damaged. And I knew this going in. In retrospect, she was damaged from what happened to her before we met. This isn’t meant as a justification or to patronize her, not at all. But when looked at objectively- and it took me years to do so- it is the truth.

          It’s been slightly maddening, but yes it is cathartic. My dreams have been interesting, to say the least.

          Oh I do. Never a doubt. I’m so fucking miserly when it comes to people I share with, I really am. You just had a no BS quality that put me at ease.

          Liked by 1 person

          • I think that numbness is what permits us to completely lose ourselves to those highs and lows (painful as they may be).

            I cannot say a thing about meds, being on none, myself. I will say, however, if there is an alternative and it works, then, do it. Better than being buzzed all the time. And I’ve heard they are often more harmful then helpful.

            Isn’t that what facing the truth is all about? Of course the gut reaction at the time is self-preservation, thereby SHE is crazy. And damaged seems to find damaged…

            I can only imagine! Your dreams going haywire with all that you are bringing up!

            Then I feel even more blessed. No BS is my mantra. Especially as I’ve grown older and uhh. kinda wiser.

            Liked by 1 person

          • You’re right. Ugh! But so, so true.

            I utilize different strategies depending on my sea level. Certain foods like cashews help. Meditation, which I am so lapse about, is a wonderful one. Running is great. Writing anything is also great.

            Yes, we were two damaged souls looking for a life preserver. Yikes. One of my recurring arguments with Dan was about the whole “crazy” thing. He thought her to be so from the get. But he was meat and potatoes whereas I was more passionate. We really never meshed outside of the blog.

            Last night’s dream was that I took Mr Speaker to a casino and had him wait outside while I jumped on a trampoline and drank adult slushies. When I walked out, he was gone and I had to tell Ari I had lost him. IF there is a meaning to that dream? I probably don’t want to know what it is . . .

            Thatta girl!

            Liked by 1 person

          • Occasionally, I am 😉

            I’m truly happy you have found ways to keep a handle on it. I was walking Zeke earlier and promising him and myself that I wanted to get a little better with that myself. Meditate, walk, stretch. My body is screaming at me from all angles inside and out. I really need to listen.

            Meat and potatoes cannot understand passion.

            Oh man! Where’s a dream interpreter when you need one?

            It works. And doesn’t. But I figure the ones it doesn’t work with, aren’t worth it.

            Liked by 1 person

          • Umm, more than occasionally.

            Meditation and stretching really would be the way to wean myself off running, eventually.

            That dude was straight up NRA Republican with a fascination for guns. My first impression of him was he was an asshole. As was my second impression. Then Emie fell for him and I was okay with the fact he was an asshole, LOL.

            Shhhhh! I really don’t want to know.

            Truth, that is.

            Liked by 1 person

          • K… I’ll take it.

            Why would you wean yourself off running? Unless it is causing you pain, don’t, just reduce….

            I dunno that I could even work with a straight-up NRA Republican. Then again… I shouldn’t judge. I don’t know the guy.

            Yeah. Best let sleeping dogs lie…

            Waste a helluva lot less time that way.

            Liked by 1 person

          • You bettah! 😉

            I mean eventually. If like say, I get into cycling to reduce the impact.

            The combination worked. Although for the first time in my life, I felt like a “liberal”, LOL. and it was hilarious how people perceived certain things that I wrote as leaning one way or the other. That’s what I get for being middle of the road I guess.

            Dan, for all his asshole-ishness, had another side to him that would show itself at times. I think my writings grew on him. For a time anyways.

            Else you get dem fleas.

            You do.

            Liked by 1 person

          • Then I do!

            Ah, of course. Like I said, if it doesn’t pain you, then… but cycling is not a bad way to get the heart a-pumping.

            That’s the important thing. It worked while it did. Liberal… hahaha… compared to him, that is.

            Most assholes have some redeeming qualities, occasionally.

            Don’t want those.

            Yep. Time to pursue that which pleases me.

            Liked by 1 person

          • Coo.

            Cycling is harder, I think. With running I have a defined and much shorter distance to cover. With cycling I would have much more to take into account, not the least of which would be safety as per cycling with the crazy drivers.

            I was. But it worked quite well, we balanced each other for the most part.

            Sometimes. Looking back? Naaaahhhh!

            Ever as in Ezrah nevah.

            Find the wheelhouse. Become the wheelhouse. That’s all the Yogi I know.

            Liked by 1 person

          • Nah… not physically harder! But yeah, finding safe roads is a must.

            Good for you on doing so for the time you did.


            More than I…


  2. I haven’t cycled enough to really know. But the whole cycling thing scares me from the safety standpoint after reading some of Dude’s near misses.

    It was good for me, while it lasted. Which wasn’t all that long when I look back.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. First of all, the opening quote is perfect! I enjoy your look back at your early days of blogging – when blogging was a digital wild west. Cheers to you for marching to your own drummer – and the $10K price had my laughing!

    Liked by 1 person

    • It was an interesting time. By and large I enjoyed most bloggers, but there were a few who really annoyed me. The fellow I mention was just rude in his assessment of our blog, and so it was perfect fodder for me to write on. It’s not like I didn’t connect with other bloggers at all, because I most certainly did.

      Marek was hilarious. He would send me these emails, very buttoned down stuff. And I would reply in kind.


  4. I don’t remember this Sam Houston Bloggers so I probably came late to the party and met you way after that? But you TOTALLY hit it when you said some bloggers are better at networking than writing. There are so many of those! You definitely tell it the way it is with grit and style, so your truth attracts those who appreciate substance over fluff. Good writing. And that 10 thousand bucks? Ha! That was funny. Have a great weekend buddy. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • That was a blog before Drinks Well. Yep, we probably became blog chums in . . I wanna say 2013? Or thereabouts? Wow . . . it’s been a while huh? That’s cool though.

      Mind you, I was way more into my writing something for the blog I was writing on back then. As time went on, I became friends with bloggers on Drinks. Cayman and that blog, well, it was just different. I think I resented the idea of networking when I wrote on the 800lb gorilla. But by the time I got to Drinks, I had mellowed quite a lot.

      I like the me I became more than the me I was. So I guess that’s a good thing, right? 🙂

      Marek was on the line for a while! Poor bastid. I couldn’t leave him hanging like that anymore. When I told him it was all a joke, he never replied.

      Have a great weekend as well Cali. Hope the ground stays quiet! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      • Oh yeah I think it was ‘13 or ‘12. You’re an awesome person on Drinks or Sorryless 🙂 Evolving is always a good thing … ground has stopped rumbling a bit over here (I was on a hike on the first one) but you never know … surprises be waking you up at all hours. But everyone was safe, which is always a good one 🙂 have a great weekend bud!

        Liked by 1 person

        • Cayman! LOL. He was a necessary bridge to here, tell you what. I didn’t think I’d keep him around as long as I did!

          I can’t imagine! I was freaked over the baby quake we had here several years ago, LOL.

          Good to know Cali. Here’s to plenty of cool waves and sunshine.


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