Hams aren’t cheap these days.
That’s why, I’m sure, the overwhelming reaction to yesterday’s Version 2.0 of “Words For Your Enjoyment” went over like a crazed-crowd of Beatles fans. Either way, good friend Will‘s suggestion, about “Doogie Howser potentially being the first blogger ever” was picked for this week’s column.
Will…as soon as you forward your address to us here at WFME, your ham will be on its way to you. Please denote if you want honey-glazed or normal plain-ol’ ham.
As for Doogie Howser, the title-character of the early 90’s television show Doogie Howser, M.D. — the story goes like this:
1. Parents have kid. 2. Kid is smart. 3. Kid goes to college. 4. Kid goes to medical school. 5. Kid is still, like 15. 6. Kid becomes a doctor. 7. Show is made about kid doctor. 8. Kid, still a kid, has a computer. 9. Kid uses computer to write weekly journal entries. 10. Kid’s can’t really type so fast, so his weekly journal entries are like, oh I don’t know, three sentences long. 11. Kid’s readership, if it was decent at any time, spikes very low. 12. Kid’s journal isn’t read by anyone. 13. Kid’s show is cancelled. 14. Kid shows up in movies like Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle in an attempt to revive his career. 15. Kid should have never gone to medical school.
But I digress.
There was always one part of that damn Doogie Howser, M.D. show that drove me crazy and Will has singled it out. The journaling portion at the end of each show. It’s was always like waiting for paint to dry because Doogie Howser could not type. It would take him a year to type three sentences and, honestly, if he was the “first blogger ever” (which he really wasn’t because there was no web site or Internet access connected to his computer journals) — he wouldn’t be a blogger I’d read.
This topic has half convinced me to start a secret blog where every week (once a week), I would quickly shoot off a three sentence post. Something like this (in the vein of Doogie Howser’s type of posts):
Sometimes life throws you curve balls. The ones you hit can ruin friendships. Which makes me think that maybe, just maybe, missing the ball is the way to go.
That’s it. Or-
My dad and mom’s relationship seems wonderful. For me and Wanda, well, I’m not so sure. Maybe I’ll have a sandwich.
Or-
I have a stomach ache today. It hurts like a thousand fires in my belly. Get outta my belly! Get outta my belly!
And that would be it. And I sorta wonder if people would come to read my simpleton, short, three sentence weekly blog posts. Would it be like watching paint dry, like the show Doogie Howser, M.D.?
Perhaps it would. Perhaps it would.
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In other news, there’s much to tell. It looks as if I may be winging my way to San Francisco tomorrow for WonderCon for a piece I’m writing for Wired Magazine. You going? Let me know.
In additionally-other news, Words For My Enjoyment has been nominated for a Diarist Award. Nope, no need for you to vote for me or sit by your computer every 24 hours clicking on a button or anything. Just think good thoughts.
In secondly-additionallike other news, this next week has a lot packed into it. From a bunch of potential media related opportunities (keep fingers crossed, please), the beginning of the shoot for my house’s appearance on HGTV’s Design on a Dime, and I think I may buy some string cheese.
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