The toilet is clogged

I sit here, willing words of wisdom and insight to spew forth from my fingertips through the keyboard to the world wide web in a desperate effort to entertain, educate and amuse you. Do not move to the edge of your seat, it is not going to happen today.

I find myself in a serious funk. I think back at the course of this year, 2006, and realize I have written this post many times. This has been the toughest year of my life. So many bad things have happened ( I have not related the half of it here), and we are but three quarters through the pages of the calendar. Each day I get out of bed, cringing like a beaten cur, dreading the kick I know is coming. I try hard to remind myself that for each bad event, good has followed. Then another calamity strikes. Knock me down and I get back up -- it is just a little slower with each passing day.

I am worried about my oldest boy. He has few friends and the senseless untimely death of one of his few comrades has left him devastated. He has shut out the world, he will not eat, refuses to talk with family or counselors. I recognize the stages of grief in him, anger, denial, etc. Finally last night he talked a little, remembering some good times, but this morning he was again grim. I feel a complete failure as a parent because I do not know how to reach him, to ease his suffering. Part of me is just afraid he will not wait for time to heal his wounds. Even committing such a thought to the Ethernet terrifies me, the very utterance could make it come true. Yesterday he faced the emotional battering ram of the viewing, the visitation. What a horrid tradition. Today he lies the body of his 17 year old buddy to rest. He does not want his mother or I to accompany him to the funeral. I grieve for my son. I pray to God to ease his pain.

Already, he is like me, he is pissed at the phonies who are pouring out their tears for a person they hardly knew. I am still pissed at the phonies who did the same at the funeral of a friend who died in a similar accident when we were both in high school -- more than 25 years ago. I hate that kind of shit. Hypocritical bastards.

My son is like me. We do not discuss feelings, emotion is a weakness, crying a shame. That is the other burden I shoulder, I am scared it is I who taught him to bottle up his emotions, prevented him from a healthy release. "Be tough", always my words when he was hurt. Sometimes you just cannot be tough.

Each of you is a complete stranger, and here I sit pouring out my concerns like the gossip at the beauty shop. You are like my friends. Most days I spend more time with you, my virtual friends, than I do my family. I enjoy reading of your lives, your work, your jokes and opinions. When you do not post I miss you. So I guess the whole point of this post is to thank you for being there, for reading this drivel, for sharing my life and yours.

I am not the first to ponder why we do this strange hobby. 99% of our friends, neighbors and family will get a puzzled look in their eyes when you mention the blog world. Nearly every day I try to pound out something. Some days I think it is good, some days I cannot believe the shit I post. Most days I think the content is in the middle. I know why I do it though. I do it for me. Fat in Indiana keeps the old emotional cork from blowing. I assure you most of you would be disappointed by the real me. I do imagine a bit of my hidden personality reflects from the mythical persona of Hoosierboy. I find much of life amusing. Some of the stuff I post I think is really funny, based on the response, some of your are not quite as amused. Rest assured if I make a joke about you, it is the highest form of compliment. The problem is, I find little in life amusing these days.

Thus ends another session of self catharsis. I should have shuttered this site long ago. It is boring and self-indulgent. For some reason 50-70 of you stop by here daily. I guess you visit for the same reason people slow to see a train wreck or watch skateboard videos of guys getting their balls racked -- you cannot help yourself. I lack the skills to become more popular, the majority of you I think visit from habit. Thanks, whatever your reasons. As long as putting up the old daily post keeps me amused I will continue.

In conclusion, thanks for putting up with the increasing number of these "poor me" posts. I just reread the disjointed ramblings of the preceding paragraphs. I cannot believe you have not quit reading already. Too bad, I am not going to rewrite 20 minutes of pouring out my soul. Link me, give me comments, come back tomorrow. It will all get better. Oh, yeah: don't forget to vote. The thought of Nancy Pelosi in charge would put me over the edge. You do not want that on your head do you?