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Wednesday, July 8, 2015

500 Blogs (Sweet Jesus)

This is my 500th blog.

As you well know by now, I suffer from Transverse Myelitis, a neurological disease that can affect any age or gender. The body's own immune system attacks the spinal nerve coating, creates a lesion, and basically shorts it out. A person is affected from the lesion down. Extreme pain, paralysis, numbness, bowel and bladder problems, sexual dysfunction, muscle spasms, weakness in the limbs, and odd sensory feelings in the affected area are some of the typical symptoms. Approximately 2 to 5 people per million develop TM. As of this time, there is no cure and no effective course of treatment. I became a paraplegic in 2009, and I am confined to a wheelchair.

As you can imagine, in addition to the pain, discomfort, and inconvenience, I was profoundly depressed. I felt like I had no purpose in life, that I was a “useless eater.” It was my son who rescued me. He said I was not useless, I did have a role to play. It fell to me to record the pivotal times in which we live. This I have endeavored to do.

I started my blog on Tuesday, June 11th, 2013. I had been posting on Facebook, but was receiving blowback on my more controversial posts. I was getting frustrated, and needed a place where I could be as damn controversial as I wanted. The blogosphere was the answer.

That first day I published 56 blogs: a sundry selection of short stories, poems, jokes, observations, quotes, and holiday essays. I got some sleep and published 35 more blogs over the next three days. During the period of June 11th, 2013 to December 31st, 2013, I published an astonishing 287 blogs. Of course, the sheer number of blogs decreased over time as the writing grew in length, scope, power, and originality.

Within these digital pages, I have taken on the militarization of domestic policing; civil asset forfeiture; J. Edgar Hoover;  the seven deadly sins (which, in general, I am all guilty of); alcoholism; bisexuality; creativity; the NSA; all the major - and most of the minor - holidays; sex, drugs, rock and roll; religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin.

And lots and lots of recipes.

My blog is called Going on Record because that is what I felt I must do. No beating around the bush, no man behind the curtain, no ifs, ands, or butts (pun intended).

I was reading a writing manual called Shut Up & Write by Judy Bridges, and I found out I'm part of the "New Journalism." Who knew?

New Journalism stands at the crossroads of fiction and nonfiction.

It has been asserted that online bloggers, reporters, and writers are part of the New Journalism, a blending of fact with the techniques of fiction to form a subjective interpretation of thoughts and events. New Journalism is characterized by emphasizing "truth" over "facts." As a literary genre, New Journalism is an artistic, creative, form of reporting where the writer is as much a part of his story as is the subject. This so-called “Creative Nonfiction” is front and center in the writing of memoirs. A memoir is simply a fictional autobiography.

My wife calls me the most published unpublished writer in the world.

My first published piece was a poem I wrote while traveling by train to California. My parents suggested I submit the poem to Santa Fe, which had a full-color employee company magazine. A short while later I received a letter on corporate stationery to congratulate me and inform me they were publishing the poem. I received a complimentary copy of the magazine, that alas I no longer have. I do remember the poem started, "Trains are better the boats I think / because a train is hard to sink...." Although I received no compensation, I was thrilled. I was thirteen years old.

Several of my short stories were published in my college literary magazine, and when I submitted a manuscript to my American Literature professor, he said it was not suitable for publication, “Not because it's not good enough, because it's too experimental.”

In the mid 1980s, as the Operations Manager of a local newspaper, my writing and design layouts were seen and read by thousands of people on a weekly basis. One of my duties was to work with a popular wedding consultant on her weekly column. As our relationship quickly developed, I soon went from editing her column, to rewriting her column, to writing her column. One afternoon, I was home with a couple of friends over. We were getting high, and I was talking about work. I mentioned that I wrote the wedding column, and one of my friends choked out his hit and said, "My mom cuts that out of the paper every week, and puts it on the refrigerator for my sister!"

Submitted pieces were featured in Mike Royko's column in the Chicago Tribune, and in TV Guide. Essays, op-eds, and humor pieces appeared regularly in various community publications. I actually had a good-natured contest with the mayor of my village, whom I knew professionally, to see who could get his name in the paper most often. It was a draw.

My wife and I attended a bluegrass music festival, and we stayed at the local Hampton Inn. Hampton Inn published a nationwide hotel magazine that was placed in every room in the chain. In the back of the magazine was a feature article called the “First Person Essay Contest,” about a guests' experiences while staying at the hotels. I wrote up a story about our trip and submitted it.

A few months later I got a call saying that my piece was selected for inclusion and that we had won a free weekend package. At that time, my folks went with us to some of the shows, and we again stayed at a Hampton Inn for the outdoor festival being held at Rockome Gardens, the Amish theme park, in central Illinois Amish country.

We hadn't said anything to my parents about my article appearing in the magazine, but as soon as we checked in, I opened our copy and there it was, my article and a very nice color picture of me and the Mrs.

A few minutes later, my mom called to say that my dad was in the hotel bathroom yelling about some kind of picture in a magazine. We had a hard time making him understand that the feature was in every Hampton Inn room in the country, and not just that specific location.

Most recently, I edited a first draft for a member of my local library's writers group, and helped her bring it through the process of self-publication. I am tremendously proud of the finished product. But again, it's not my name on the cover.

It's often said, “write what you know.” It turns out I don't know much about anything. But the one thing I know about more than anyone else is myself. And like any good Monday morning quarterback, I can analyze the events from the comfort of my armchair, and the safety of hindsight.

I am extremely proud of my blog. It is informative, entertaining, and funny as all get out. There's nothing else out there like it, and I do A LOT of reading and researching. The wisdom, humor, heart, pathos, and humanity shine through. The blog is easy to read and navigate, the attention to detail enhances the layout, and the vibrant and evocative artwork supports the brilliant text. If I do say so myself. And I do.

Plus, there are no annoying ads, distracting pop-ups, redirected pages, or busy clutter.

I can take a step back and look at it objectively, and if I saw another blog like it, I'd take my hat off to the blogger. And write a blog about it. Also, the blog provides the ability to leave comments, and I welcome any rebuttal to my claims (providing that I have the right to delete "troll" posts).

When my family and I first started talking about setting up a blog, the only trolls I knew about were in The Hobbit. My Gen-X son, a PC gamer, who hosts his own server (whatever the hell that means) said I had to watch out for "trolls." He explained that I would be opening myself up to people who liked to cause trouble on the Internet simply because they can. I said I was pretty thick skinned and had the option of answering, ignoring or deleting negative comments.

A little later in the day I was perusing my Facebook News Feed and I saw an article that showed a frail, bald child in a hospital gown with a determined smile on her face. She was holding a poster on which was written in purple marker:

Can I get 1 million Likes? I BEAT CANCER'S BUTT July 26, 2013

I clicked on Like. The comment bar rolled down and I could not believe when I read this comment.

To those of you who have left vulgar, hateful, vile remarks. I feel the shame your mother and family must feel towards you. I can only hope that life treats you with more kindness and understanding than you have shown this most amazing child, soon. I can't imagine how awful it must feel to be you.

I thought, how can people leave vulgar, hateful messages in response to a small child with cancer?

I decided that if this brave kid could take it, I sure could.

It is also appropriate that my 499th blog, posted yesterday, was about ignorance, because my entire life has been a battle against ignorance as I attempt to inform and entertain. In the face of deliberate and willful ignorance, as Dickens said, the word Doom is writ large.

Nothing has afforded me more creative freedom than has my blog. I cordially invite you to read my blog to discover for yourself the colorful, easy to read layout, and provocative writing, which has garnered over 13,000 page views.

See ya in another 500.

SJD
Somonauk, Illinois
July 8, 2015

2 comments:

  1. I have never regretted marrying you. After all, it's not every woman who can say she is married to a man who is always first in line to be hanged!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I don't think I can fit 500 candles on the cake.

    ReplyDelete