I love to write. I often dream of creating the Next Great American Novel. But let’s be honest, that takes waaaay too much work. So I’m often asked (ok, let’s not lie… I’ve been asked like 5 times… which is to say… not that often), “Hey, why don’t you start a blog?”

Seriously? You think people will want to read what I have to say? (Excuse me… writing ego slipping out here… yes… yes… everyone will want to read what you have to say.)

Regardless, (because let’s face it… like 5 people will want to read what I have to say) it’s cathartic. It’s better than spending too much time on Facebook (ridiculous), harrassing the Alderman’s again (all the time), eating chocolate (gah! I can’t help myself!) or watching Law & Order reruns (give me a break… I don’t own a Tivo). Thus… I’m going to jump in and just do the dang thing.

I’ll start with a few warnings for my readers:

• The Dave Matthews Band is in my top five list of all-time loves. So expect a lot of references to them in the design and the content. If you hate them, too bad. Deal with it or don’t read… my stuff. But please read in general, lest you become stupid like 60% of our nation.
• I am the epitome of a Greek Tragedy. Not in so much that I fight unicorns or wear togas or believe in worshipping multiple gods. But in that I have an achilles heal… a tragic flaw. My tragic flaw is wearing my heart on my sleeve and being a little too honest in action and speech.** Yikes. I’ll do my best to keep this PG rated and not too… ickily and emotionally personal. But if I go there… don’t say I didn’t warn you.**For all of you that thought I was going to say my tragic flaw is being late, well that’s just not nice. Insert my frown + my curse word at you here. In the words of the great Abraham Lincoln, “Eff you.” No, I don’t know if he actually said that, but it sure would tickle my funny bone if he had.
  
• I enjoy the finer, and sometimes not so fine, points of pop culture. But check it… I am not on the cutting edge. Of anything. Except for my 10-yr old swiss army knife. So when I get excited about a “new” song or “brand new” beer or “pilot” TV show… that you have not only heard about, but are already bored with, just give me a break.
• I love sports. Unfortunately I have the death star of genetics when it comes to being a sports fan – an XX chromosome. If you’re a guy, and you think you know more than me, and that something I write about sports is wrong… well you’re probably right. And as I raise my craft-brewed pint to you during Monday Night Football, let me be the first to say, frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.

So to make Yoda proud… I’ll begin to wax poetic. Or wane pathetic. Depending on the day, or your point of view. Thanks for joining me.