I got this idea in my head a little while back. I want to put together a blog. I guess I’ve already done that to some degree. I’d post little diatribes, rants and stories about stuff I think about. And on occasion a friend would tell me that they enjoy reading what I write and I should do it more often. 

So, I thought I would entertain that notion. Michael Anthony Smith, writer of blog words. I type ‘em, you read ‘em.. A perfect symmetrical relationship. This is gonna be great. So, I use the page that the radio station gives me to do basically anything that I want. As long as I don’t engage in any saucy talk, or show pictures of acts of sauciness. Safe in the knowledge that the only sauciness guys like me are exposed to is poured over pasta, I set out in hopes of blogging myself into a frenzy. 

So, I find myself at a crossroads. What do I write that will draw somebody in? Something that’ll rivet them, and make them anxiously await the next torrent of magical sentences. A trip through my Facebook and Twitter feed shows me no shortage of people who have this down to a science. They find that niche, and damn it all to Hell, they rock it like there’s no tomorrow. Theirs looks great. Am I really I really a victim of blog envy? I picture these pages getting all kinds of attention, talking about the way the city is run, social media, music, and I’m over here like “I really like burritos”. 

So.. What does a guy like me do? I’ve made the promise to myself to be totally honest to myself in my words, deeds and art. But I don’t want to be the blog version of that guy on the bus that mumbles to himself all day. I do mumble a lot, and God knows I’ve ridden my share of buses. Dear Lord, I *am* that guy..  

I throw myself at the tender mercies of the bloggeratti. Show me your ways. Take me to your Yoda. I want people to read my words, and get some entertainment from them.