I was reluctant to participate in a blog because of all the hot mess blogs I have read. I could not grasp why someone would want to write mean gossipy things and publish them on the World Wide Web, when an explosion of the seventh grade variety was sure to follow.
But now I understand.
Not long ago, I laid witness to something that I really, really want to blog about but I cannot. Why? Because I've got some sense and my blog sisters would kill me and feed me to the pigs. The place I live is called a city, but it just barely makes the cut. The circles I move in and out of are tiny. I've never really counted but I'd say about a dozen people comment on this blog, some regularly, some off and on. Lots more read it. I know this on account of "Stat Counter" but what I don't know is who they are. What's more, I don't care. After all, it's on the World Wide Web for, well, the world to see. But people stop me in the grocery store and tell me they read it. Sometimes I quiz them to make sure they aren't lying. They're not.
So I can't blog about every spectacle I run across—and believe me there are plenty. If the people providing the spectacle did not read it, someone they know would and then the phone calls would start. Before you could say, "Was that me she was talking about?", I'd have me a big old mess, junior high style.
Yet, I can taste that blog. The phrases run through my head like rain in a rusty downspout. My brain feels like razor blades and my metaphorical tongue is bloody from the biting. Even now, my fingers are twitching. But aside from not wanting any personal High Drama, I really don't want to make fun of people in a public forum and hurt their feelings. I learned a while back that pointing out the shortcomings of others is not so much a public service as it is just mean, not to mention that it leaves the door open for people to sling criticism my way that I may or may not be emotionally equipped to handle, depending on the day.
And as a writer, there's another reason to refrain from blogging about everything. Book fodder. If I give away all of my best ideas for free, what will I have to sell?
So I think I'll go write that blog and put in the "ideas" file.
I am supposed to end with a question, to encourage you to chime in. I can't think of one. That's okay. It's taken all of my energy to control myself and not to scream to the top of my lungs (virtually, of course) about the stupidity of mankind. So, if you have anything to say on this matter, please do. If not, tell me your favorite cookie. I might bake them for you.