601
I didn’t notice at the time, but that last post was my 600th entry on this so-called “web site.” I’m not sure what to make of this information, really; this has never been a “blog” in the purest sense, since any decent blog puts up multiple posts a day, or at least a week. Aside from the occasional period when I get ambitious and start throwing up a post a day (I mean that literally), I’ve averaged probably one post a week. So me getting to 600 posts is like Pete Rose getting to 160 home runs. Sure, he got there, but it took him over 4000 games. I’ve been doing this for like seven years.
Oh, don’t worry, this isn’t a “wow, I’ve been doing this a long time, maybe it’s time to call it quits” post. Eff that noise. I have no intention of quitting. In fact, I intend to try and ramp up my output.
I finally realized that if I want to become a writer (one of my many dreams) I need to actually write. And the surest place for me to do that is on my website, where I have 2 readers who won’t hesitate to email me if I say something douchey. It’s completely stupid to think “Wow, I wish I could make my living writing” when I have a captive of audience (of two people) checking my website for updates only to find, to their heart’s dismay, nothing has been posted. If I want to write, I need to, you know, write.
So I’m writing. How do you like it so far?
I’m not making any promises about daily output. My job doesn’t really permit me to do anything like that during the day, and my evenings are occupied with either a paying gig/rehearsal or chasing my tow-headed offspring around. But here is my promise to you: you will see more frequent stuff posted here. It might be a lengthy diatribe, it might be pictures of Sarah Palin making sweet love to an antelope, it might be a musical effort on my part. We will just have to see!
It might even just be a diary-type entry where I talk about stupid crap that happened to me during the day. So you can look forward to all sorts of useful information, on the offchance I become famous and you get on Jeopardy and one of the questions is “On this date, Matt Hearn stepped in poo, wiped it off on a park bench, and watched in horror as, before he could be stopped, his son sat in it.” (This hasn’t happened, but given Charles’s propensity for getting profoundly stained while in my care, it’s only a matter of time. And when it does, you’ll be the first to know. (‘Cause I certainly wouldn’t be telling my wife.))
That’s what I offer you. Poop stains and lies. Enjoy!
