Thursday, November 01, 2007

Dear Diary,


4:25: Begin entry with something witty.



4:30: Give up. Just begin entry any way.

I’m not much for rehashing news stories, unless they are of obituaries of famous people who somehow managed to worm their way into my own ice cold heart.

But the Rev. Robert Shield’s obit was a little startling. Mostly because it was roughly 3.75 million words long.

4:35: Paused to calculate what 3.75 million words looks like. Gasp in horror.

A typical college paper is about 1,000 words. A singe page of double-spaced copy paper can hole about 500 words. And many of the stories we assemble here at the paragraph factory are roughly 800 words.

So to sit down in a single year and pound out 3.7 million words on an old typrwriter takes al level of old-man insanity not yet seen since Jerry Stockwell of Wisconsin who has saved every AOL CD sent to his home “just in case” he needs a copy of the free internet provider.

4:40: Recognize that crazy people are everywhere and they are collecting my garbage for shits and grins.

No, Shields - up yonder in the great state of Washington - was not really crazy in any conventional sense. Rather, he just wanted to document every loving tidbit and minute detail of his life.

So, that instead of boring the crap out of his brood of grandkids with his life over some Werther’s Originals hard candy, he can tell the general public every time he had a Bowel Movement or decided that his woolen socks were too itchy and made his bunions hurt.

4:45: Gets comfy to hear this one.

He would spend, literally, hours each day at a typewriter – much like I do – documenting what he did, things he ate, mail that arrived, temperature of the room, what he was wearing, how many times he peed, pooed, drank, slept, walked outside for freshair – which apparently was rare – and a whole host of other natural things that needed to be saved for posterity.

Who’s exactly? We may never know.

He would offer minute by minute accounts of his day broken up into five minute sections hat read like stereo instructions for the infirm and the feeble.

But don’t discount this stocky, ruddy faced little man of God. He had a level of dedication that really no one, that I knowingly will admit to knowing, has.
I can’t even consistently post on this foul forum on a regular basis. And that, I know, leaves you my readers listless and wandering the interwebs searching for answers to the ultimate question in life; “I wonder Mike is doing today?”

4:50: Searched for a point.

Ultimately, I need to get back to the daily journaling.

I started it back in the high school days. Old fashion paper and pen – mostly when I traveled but also when there were major life changing events.

First girlfriend, Debate victories, being editor of the paper, Europe, graduation and so on.

But that did not last long and I think the books got lost in the shuffle of moving several times and the usual packing and unpacking that would follow.

In college I tried typing them out, but the short entries where pretty boring and devoid of much flavor sense we were lacking the handwriting and the kind of flair that only a notebook and ink pen can provide.

So, like most thing I lost interest and became distracted with other things – mostly my lust for alcohol.

4:55: Fading fast.

But now, with a few years of blogging under my belt and a credential on my wall calling me a “professional” writer, I think we need to jump back into the scene of journaling not for the sake of freaking out the genral public on a blog.

5:00: A new goal.

Most people I know all did computer-style journaling – Doogie Houser, Md., Dana Scully, FBI and a slew of my own (real) friends.

I think it is time I join the ranks of journal-ers. Then when I die (later more so than sooner) my journal can be made into an amazing book that talks about my struggles against the Nazi oppression.

Maybe we begin tonight.

Maybe tomorrow.

Hell, maybe I will lose interest and just get a drink.

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