You Are The Most Dishonest Blogger Ever
Sunday morning is here and in the back of my mind I am still thinking about Superman Sam and his family. The shrinks might have a word, expression or description about it.
Maybe it is because that August day has been burned into my mind and Sam’s story reminds me of it.Â Made me think about Mookie again and then again maybe it is because right now life feels a bit like I am living inside a cereal box that has been turned upside down and is being shaken by someone who is determined to get that last piece of cereal.
Not sure about any of it and I am more ok with that than you might realize because a big chunk of life is about being able to just roll with what comes and not to make sense of it.
iTunes is rolling out the songs and I am just floating alongside them. Imagine Dragons just played Demons and now Van Halen is singing Hot For Teacher.
A few moments later The Beatles will sing about Golden Slumbers and Carrying That Weight.
I am sifting through more posts because it feels like I need to find one, but I am not sure which one it is. Maybe I am supposed to share Endless Blue Skies with you or maybe it is Preserve Your Memories.
Maybe I am suppose to listen to Bookends with you and hope that it helps you see what I see.
Somewhere in this wild and woolly blogosphere is a post where someone has written about anonymous bloggers as being the most dishonest bloggers ever and I am laughing.
Laughing because Jack Steiner isn’t my real name but even if it was that wouldn’t mean that everything you read here is real or the truth.
I have my reasons for my pseudo anonymity and I have no regrets about it.Â I haven’t hidden the fact that my driver’s license has a different name on it nor have I shouted that out.
Why should I.
You Can’t Handle The Truth
That doesn’t roll off of my tongue the way it does when Jack Nicholson says it but that is ok. Sometimes I think we forget the importance of vetting whatever we read.
A “real” name doesn’t mean that a post is “real” or “truthful.” Sometimes we intentionally take artistic license to make the posts about ourselves and our families look better.
We self censor what we share and what we write. That is not a bad thing. There are boundaries in blogging and not everyone needs to know every detail about you.
I try to make a point not to write about anything I don’t want others to know about because if it is online it is discoverable. That is life. It happens.
Lack of a “real name” isn’t indicative that someone is really hiding things either. If I told you that I wrote a post about having a hard time crying you probably wouldn’t think it is anything special.
Well when I wrote it almost a decade ago I wasn’t comfortable having that discussion with people so writing under an alias allowed me to put it out there in a way that felt comfortable.
Ask me about it today and I’ll tell you it is not something that happens easily and I’ll say I don’t care who knows. Can’t tell you exactly why it bothered me then, but it did.
More Music Plays
Fleetwood Mac just played Monday Morning and Never Going Back Again and I am getting ready to shift gears. The personal blogging time for the moment is almost over.
Won’t be long before my son gets home and I’ll be dad. Won’t be long before I have to help him with some writing assignments and I’ll remember how much I dislike homework.
Won’t be long before I feel like writing teachers to complain about busy work and to ask for an explanation about how 4 hours of homework helps with education.
Laughing because I just stumbled onto Wipeout by The Fat Boys with a special appearance by The Beach Boys. Kind of goofy but it makes me smile, good memories associated with it.
Can’t hear it without thinking about Walk this Way with RunDMC and Aerosmith, more good memories.
Memories and The Present
Superman Sam has left the present and is nothing but memories now. My heart aches to type it but I need to remember the importance of being present now.
Homework sucks, but it is one more thing my son and I will share and life is more than just memories of magic and mystical moments.
Mundane moments make up big pieces too and that is ok.
Baruch Dayan Emet to Sam’s family again, so very sorry.