Roger.
I write a blog - well sometimes.
I wanna be a writer when I grow up - no really, I do.
I just don't believe that I have grown up yet. Sure I'm nearing my mid-forties, have been married for more than nineteen years and have seven children, but I'm not really sure that means I have grown up.
So I guess that is my excuse.
Pretty lame excuse if you ask me, or my wife, or my children for that matter.
They think I have grown up.
So here I am, away from my family doing work for "the man" that doesn't appreciate all that I bring to the table - well maybe they do, but they sure have a funny way to show it.
This isn't about them though.
It's about me.
My blog, my rules.
Anyway, I thought that I would start up the old blog again and start to produce some product here to improve this craft that I say I love. I mean if I've got to work for "the man" my whole life, why not try to improve my skills so that I can work for "the man" that counts.
Me.
Bet you saw that coming didn't you? I can guarantee you that there will be things here that you will not have seen coming, but you will have to stick around to find out now, won't you?
So here I am thirteen months, plus a few days, before my forty-fifth birthday, thinking about putting a lot of pressure on myself. Should I do it? Maybe I should have a poll?
Maybe I should have a coherent thought?
This is what you get when I am away from home, in a hotel, trying to find a way to get some sleep. Well, and the fact that I promised my lovely bride that I would have some proof of writing for tonight.
A story will be here tomorrow, at some point.
Promise.
