One Year Of Prattling: Who Would Have Thought?

Today marks the one year anniversary of this blog. To celebrate, I poured a cup of coffee, then scrolled back and reread my first ever post, the one that offered a thumbnail sketch of who I was the day it all began.

When I got to the end, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Thankfully, I still recognized the rather quirky old guy that was described in that initial post. A year later he’s pretty much that same predictable, recalcitrant codger. He still doesn’t answer his phone if he’s not in the mood, or twitter or socially network with others in an attempt to feel relevant. He continues to live life below the radar, and is still comfortable assuming the persona of a retired and reclusive, Invisible Man. He continues to loathe the selective hypocrisy of political correctness, and values the work ethic of prostitutes over that of politicians, in as much as they both provide the same public service. And to date, not here or anywhere, has he said anything so profound that it’s either changed the personal lives of others, or altered the suicidal trajectory of the society in which we live.

So what, if anything, has blogging accomplished in this writer‘s life during the past year? From the previous description, it sounds like absolutely nothing. But… perhaps that’s not quite accurate. For one thing, by lasting 365 days this blog is at least a moral victory for a person who routinely flits from one creative challenge to another, guiltlessly moving on to something new whenever the intellectual “shininess” of the latter begins to fade.

For someone who dislikes writing as much as he, it also shows a measure of resolve to have sat down thirty-five times and tried to put into words what was bouncing around in his tangential thoughts. Not only that, considering the fact he only has about five regular readers, he’s been surprisingly able to overcome the daily urge to stop blogging, and simply begin sharing his nonsense with them via conference call.

And even when one of that “band of five” innocently inquired whether he ever wrote anything “shorter,” he silently pulled the poisoned dagger from his creative heart, and smiled as he explained he was just a “long-winded” kind of guy.

Finally, while he understands the cliché, “If you don’t use it, you lose it” as it refers to things that either work (or don’t) as a gentleman gets older, he’s shown dedication to forestalling such a fate when it comes to the skills necessary to think clearly, and write creatively. After all, from way back in his teaching days, he’s believed that the phrase, “A mind is a terrible thing to waste,” was more a personal daily reminder, than merely a T.V. fundraising hook for some Black University.

So, everything considered, “Happy Birthday” to the Prattling Paisano. At least you made it one year… or at least a full three hundred-sixty days longer than some of your previous creative impulses. Who knows, maybe you’re finally maturing in your old age? Or, maybe it was just a lucky fluke.