Duck, duck, sandpiper

It’d be nice to write lengthy missives on important stuff. Political satire, ground breaking poetry, incredibly insightful economic analysis, something. But, I’m not a linguist, I’m not archiving the internet, I’m not even..uhm, I honestly don’t know. I’m really just a kind of lazy, scatterbrained, prone to depression, family man/computer nerd. Sometimes that can be a little disappointing. My wife’s reading a book about Kafka, and I stole it to read on the porch during smoke breaks. In it, the author writes about the young Kafka being haunted not by fear of stylistic mediocrity, but rather a fear of living up to the potential greatness of his style. Seems he had the utmost confidence in his talent, but not in his ability to harness it. Very self-assured, borderline arrogant. Very German. Very VW Passat. I feel like that a lot, as I’m sure a lot of people who aren’t exactly achieving “Great Things (c)” occasional do.

But then, I was reading one of the few hip-hop blogs I read, wondering how it must feel to have this guy’s readership. All his cool exclusives and rare old school jams. His thriving comments section. Mostly just his generally perfect fit into his niche. Despite all of the fun I was having reading his pieces and comments, soaking it all in, I was feeling kind of shitty about myself. Sitting here on the overnight shift at an IT company. Doing.. well. Not much. Then I read the following comment:

“‘son, you got the best blog out. music out the ass. and you rep DC!? good grieeef.

i like getting put on to the new jams. things that most blogs overlook. you treat the blog like your room. put shit up that you care about, not just for hits. that’s crucial in my opinion. you just gained a loyal reader.’

posted by modi — May 7, 2008 @ 7:02 am”

I felt kind of ok after that. Because in this (relative) swarm of activity in his comments section, someone had taken the time out to just give the man props for welcoming us into his room. And that’s a cool thing — for both the commenter and the blogger. So, for this entry at least, I feel ok just writing about what’s going on with me. Even if it’s not grand, and its not fantastic, it’s still my voyage.

You know what? I feel like absolute ass right now. I’m dead tired and the cleaning guy/my buddy will be here any minute to break up the monotony. I was going to write more, but it’s unnecessary. Long story short, I had a great evening with my wife. We watched a group of adult sandpipers at the lake out back attempt to both teach their babies to fly, and protect them from us as we watched. It was fascinating, adorable, and a testament to spring. Or something poetic. We also went out to dinner, and the library. I picked up 10 Criterion movies I’d ordered for one of my little projects. It’s about 2 hours from my “Friday Night”.

That’s about as proper as a roflcopter son.


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