I decided to start writing a blog. One of the ways that I know I am slowly losing the race on technology starts with the word “blog”. For a long time, as I heard the word “blog” I would think the following lame joke: “Well, if ‘smog’ is ‘smoke+fog’, is ‘blog’ a combination of ‘blood+fog'”. I never say that joke out loud because even my warped mind is aware of an unfunny joke, occasionally.
This is not my first blog. My first one was on Myspace and was read by a number of people. Technically, one is a number. The problem with my previous blog was that I focused on only my opinions and it really wasn’t very funny or informative. It also got very dark as I struggled with some things. As a benefit from the universe, I lost my password for my account and then Myspace became something for bands.
So why start another blog? Well, there are a few reasons. I recently joined a public speaking club and I am hoping to hone my speech writing and improvisation skills by using the creative part of my brain more frequently. I use the technical part of my brain most of every day and that can make creativity and innovation difficult for me.
Another reason came from reading a brilliant and hilarious woman’s blog about her struggles with depression. I will not include her blog name in this because I don’t want to show up in a search for her blog and I am unfamiliar with how this site works. She has hundreds of thousands of fans (possibly millions), has written books, made t-shirts based on her blog, and fell into a deep depression. I struggle with depression (if by “struggle” I mean “continually awkward hug like hugging your cousin too long”). I may touch on that in a later post. Reading about her struggle and that writing helped her deal with life problems has given me the idea to also try my hand at writing.
One other reason that I wanted to start writing a blog is that people say that I am funny. I frequently hear things like “Oh you should be a comedian” (which I always interpret as “so you can tell jokes at comedy shows, preferably far away from here). I also hear, “You should write a humor column like Dave Barry”. Granted, the last statement is usually spoken by people who don’t understand that newspaper columns are dying out. (Kids, a newspaper is a … nevermind, just Google it). I do like to be funny and make people laugh. I would even love to have the courage to be a stand-up comedian. I don’t just mean the telling jokes in front of people, but the courage to completely bomb on stage in front of people. I don’t think I could take that awkward moment where my joke completely bombs and all I can hear is crickets and the clinking of drinks. I went to a comedy show and the opening act was terrible. He got zero laughs. He even said the most horrible thing he could say, “Don’t you know this is supposed to be a comedy show?”. That made the whole audience think a version of “Yes, we know. Were you told that you were supposed to be funny?” I was amazed that he continued his routine.
I am often introduced as a “funny” guy. This immediately makes for an awkward introduction. The most common phrase I hear after being introduced that way is “Oh, do you know any good jokes?”. I don’t know what it is about that question that completely blanks my mind of all things funny. I really wish I was making this next part up. Every single time, two thoughts enter into my head. Every. Time. Thought #1 “If I mooned this person right now at this party, would that be funny or just sad?” (For the record, sad has always won. If funny ever wins the mental debate, I am sure I will lose some friends). Thought #2 “So a dog walked into a bar” that’s it. I don’t know any joke that starts with a dog walking into a bar. I have tried to make a “go to” joke in my head. It evaporates into “a dog walks into a bar” every time. I have even looked up “dog walking into a bar” jokes. They are all terrible. I don’t know why I even try to make jokes. I can be funny, but I am not really “joke telling” funny. I am more of the snarky, smart-alecky funny. I know I can be funny. I have made cancer patients and people at a funeral laugh. By the way, those crowds are tough, but not as tough as you would think. The hardest laugh I have ever worked for was at a wedding. That is correct. I have made more cancer patients and funeral patrons laugh than I ever have at a wedding.
This brings me back to my beginning. I hope this endeavor will be sometimes informative, sometimes thought provoking (at least for me, if not my audience), and usually entertaining to read. Really, I just hope I will continue it and do it at least once a week. Hopefully it won’t be like other things I have picked up for a couple weeks and then gave up (looking at you “easy juggling” kit).