Introduction

I have my own blog. I’m anti-technology and anti-internet so those of you who know me may find this to be a bit of a surprise, perhaps a shock even. If you’ve seen “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape”, you might remember the Johnny Depp character who very loyally works in a small family run grocery that’s struggling because a large chain “Foodland” has just opened up a short distance away. The owner, his friend is afraid the superstore will be the end of his livelihood but Johnny, the optimistic foil to the oppressive details of ordinary existence, encourages and instills the belief that people will come back to their store. There’s a sad moment later in the movie when his crestfallen employer catches Johnny in the parking lot shopping at the Foodland.

I used to keep a journal but stopped. I thought I never would again.
But here I am.
They call them blogs now? What’s that – who created that word?

I made my debut on Princess Buttercup’s blog. I’d like to believe I was such a hit that all the fans wrote in demanding I get my own blog. Regardless of what may be, here I am perhaps doomed because history has shown spin-offs to be not as successful, nor loved as dearly as the originals. Think of Happy Days/Laverne and Shirley, Buffy/Angel, more recently Friends/Joey, and Spider-man/Punisher comics. The only exception to this rule I can think of is Cheers/Frasier. – I can only hope.

Speaking of spin-offs, the Elektra movie opens this weekend. For a couple of reasons, I’m optimistic this will also be an exception to the rule; Daredevil wasn’t that great anyway, but mostly because more screen time for Jennifer Garner.

Last night we played ball hockey. I almost didn’t make it out because I was fumbling away fruitlessly with my VCR so I could record two episodes of 24. There I was in a real pickle because one of my brothers already told me he can’t record, and my other brother wasn’t home (yes, I called.) What to do? For a very brief moment I thought about asking Princess Buttercup if she could help me, but changed my mind because:

1. Despite what she says, I suspect she doesn’t know how to record either.
2. I was afraid she would laugh at me. My fears were confirmed later after I told her and she did laugh at me.

In hindsight I see that I made the mistake of trying to provide an excuse for missing hockey.

Ball hockey is fun, but not a substitute for the real thing. It’s all aggression – lacking the grace, poetry and imagination you find on ice. It’s haphazard, lots of people just whacking away with sticks. When it’s this way, sometimes you can get unlucky like I did. Getting hit by an orange ball from a slapshot by Frank can be quite unkind, especially if it gets you in the ole sweet spot between the legs. Ouch! (understatement!) In ice hockey everyone wears a jock. Playing ball hockey I never do, and of course this is when it “happens.” Figures. Must be some sort of natural law at play here. I’ll know better from now on (or at least until next Monday) never to tempt fate again.

Frank was very remorseful. I think he knew what happened, but asked again and again if my “upper thigh” was alright? I think he needs to believe this is what happened. Perhaps it will too difficult for him otherwise.

So, I let him.

If you remember me from Princess Buttercup’s blog, it should not surprise you that my blogs will only take place during the day. This means sometimes (like now) I will have to cut out early. Expect unresolved cliffhanger endings in the future. . . well, think of it that way at least.

If you think based on the above that I am a TV or pop culture junkie, believe me, I am not. Congee will attest to the fact that I know nothing and am totally uncool.