I Gotta Be Me!

Okay. I read back over these things...and I don't hear me at all. I'm writing like a tenth grade English student. Or a celeb "novelist". I can't stand it. I'm holding back so as not to offend anyone. I've got too many things to get to...and I can't write like this anymore.

The ride to West Point, Mississippi for a Howlin' Wolf Museum benefit concert shouldn't be told in such polite terms. Hell, I met Harry Shearer there! Yeah, that Harry Shearer.

If I write honestly about softball daze (sic), I'll offend everyone. So be it. Sorry. I may lose friends, have relatives cuss me out, my wife may bail, but it has to be done right.

The trip to Wyoming with my childhood buddy can be done for a family audience. We were good boys. Dammit.

Fred's Feed & Seed - no problem there. Tampa trips...probably okay for the kiddies to see that stuff. Most of it.

I just gotta write it like I think it. No more , "Ooh...I left a preposition outta place." Not sure what to do about one thing that was mentioned to me. I use asterisks rather than spell out the worst of the cuss words. I had a complaint, and I think it's a valid one: Either spell it out or don't use it. I see the point...yet I still like the effect of implying , yet not offending. So I'm a wuss. We shall see how that goes henceforth.

The sensitive may have to exit at some point. I don't think I cuss a lot. My wife says I do. Of course, she doesn't cuss at all, so that skews the numbers in that argument.

I gotta write about music, baseball, and college football. If I can't cuss in those posts, I may as well delete the blog.