Thursday, September 07, 2006


I saw that Eric had 11K roll over for his commentorcounter and he posted something about it. Althouse the law school babette had something like that that she commented on the first of the week... and it got me thinking about my own bloggery. I suppose that if Blogspot would count for me I'd like to know, but it doesn't, or at least I'm too stupid to figure out how to do it. I've got the same problem with editing comments. I know that it can be done, but I'm too stupid to do it. So when some guy says something that probably shouldn't be broadcast to the world (a friend from Polk County recently asked for the loan of my pickup so that he could move from over there to the campus of UCF and couldn't put his hands on me so he put his address and phone number on the blog... probably a mistake... Dana told me to drop it off and I failed but tried... she's been too nice to point out that I'm a moron.).

Anyhow, I have no idea how many guys have used the blog. If they come thru the company website then I can figure out the numbers. There's a mechanism for tracking routing on the pages called on the website server on the stuff from the hosting company, but they caused some grief last year when they changed something that wiped out the old number on their counter so I just started over. But that's mostly for my own ego, I think. Everybody wants to become a famous writer I suppose. I have a friend who is a successful writer and he only gets mail thru his publisher... doesn't want to hear a whisper otherwise. I suppose I could piss him off by putting his email address up here, but I can understand why he doesn't want me to do anything stupid. But it is tempting. Whatcha think Pete? No? OK.

But.... but.... I really don't care. I think that mostly I use this thing as a sort of computerized diary and I write stuff because I don't have anyone to talk to. That's not exactly true because there's people around me... my daughter and the Redhead, Tom, business guys, a seemingly endless supply of ex-students. But I've always kept a diary. I have kept the old handwritten ones since I was a snot nosed kid sitting in the snow up at Phillips Exeter in frozen New Hampshire. Occasionally I'll drag out the old diaries and revisit what I was thinking about years ago. Mostly that's a reminder of how dumb I was back then, or at least how mindless and naive I was back then. Same thing these days, just quicker.

I think that maybe I just want to carry on a conversation with myself. Someone to talk to who will always agree with me and not point out all the mistakes I make (like Elaine (the redhead) or Tom (my oldest friend) or Katherine (my kid, who is still raising daddy). Those things don't need counters.... they're infinite.