I’m still here. I Think.

On the plus side, it’s been only three months, not six, or twelve, or seventy-three.

I’d like to say I have a valid excuse for not entertaining my vast, innumerable readership with more regular musings on nothing at all. My pseudo-valid excuse is being busy, which is probably everyone’s excuse for ever not doing anything. After all, you’re not going to say “How dare you not do that because you’ve been busy!” but you might say “How dare you not do that because you’re lazy!” Either way, what I’ve been NOT doing has been writing. Here’s what I have been doing: watching Bones. I’ve learned a lot about human anatomy and crime-solving, so at least its been productive.

What I realized today, though, was the actual reason for my post-radio-age radio silence. It’s not that I don’t want to write things, or that I can’t think of moderately entertaining things to write about, but that I think they are so inane, uninspired, or repetitive that no one will want to read them or I will bore myself into oblivion simply by putting them on paper (or internet). I mean really, who wants to read about skiing AGAIN? Do you really REALLY want to hear about the absurdity of the people? The idiocy of the customer? How many pictures of stunning mountainscapes can a person POSSIBLY look at? You HATE amusing anecdotes and funny observations, don’t you? I thought so.

Oh, you do want to read those things? Well, I’ll get right on that. After I watch three more season of Bones. Oh, and The Americans. I started that last night. Spies! Russians! Reagan! Galore!

A quick one before I go? Statement of fact: there are two kegs sitting on the deck. I have no idea if they are empty or full or somewhere in between, nor do I know (sad truth) how to tap a keg and find out. Even sadder truth: it’s Passover so I can’t be drinking the beer, anyway. Now, if only they were kegs of rum…

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