Blog Jock?

It didn't dawn on me until i was reading David Halberstam's book, "The Fifties", and he began talking about the powerful influence of the disc jockeys of the day, that I began to realize that that sort of persona-seizing self-celebration is a lot like what we do here on the blogs. I had never thought of it before, though I've certainly listened to some highly personable disc jockeys in past years. Some were hip and some were very countrified and some were somewhere in-between. Some, of course, were merely commercial and not worth the oxygen it'd' take to keep a cross-eyed pig alive, but somebody had to be "safe" enough to be the Master of Ceremonies for the men's clubs in town. Very square; those guys could smile like blazes into the face of a fat turd about to hit the blades of the proverbial Fan!

At any rate, that's what this is like, I think. (The cool part, not the turd part!) It's as if I had my own few hours of radio show and I can make sense or not, just as it pleases me. My regulars will be entertained even when I don't make much sense! If I do make sense, that's gravy! And there's no sponsors to give a shit! If I start speaking in a deep voice, you'll know what's happening. Maybe I'll swell up and begin to call myself a Wolfman! Or wolverine? How about a Tasmanian Devil--there's a lot of appeal in that!

Jes' call me Taz!

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