30 Ways in 30 Days

Well here it is Friday!  Not only that it’s the last day of the month and this is my final post that completes my self-imposed 30-Day Challenge or my Month of Blogging Dangerously.  My task was to post something every day during the month of September.  So, time for some review, a reality check of sorts.

I’ve tried to post on a variety of subjects (30 Ways) running the course from updating my man card to stinkin’ thinkin’, capital punishment and true confessions, all no doubt Evidences of a Troubled Past.  I made it through!  It’s been a challenging but interesting thirty days and has certainly given me an appreciation for those who post every day.

So, how’d you do?  If you managed to follow along through most of these posts during the month congratulate yourself, give yourself a pat on the back.  You deserve it.  Thank you!

Posting daily does have it’s advantages.  My average daily readers for the month more than doubled to 75 and pushed my total visitors from more than 1600 for both July and August to more than 2200 in September alone.*  Readers from 43 states and 38 countries have stopped in since this blog began on June 29th.

The one post that got the most attention this month was Confessions.  I guess people love reading about the bad and the ugly.  Someone once said taking a risk is the only way to write deadly honest prose.  Well I certainly took a risk and it was “deadly honest.” 

Lists – Evidence of a Troubled Past?

I’ve been a list-maker since I was a boy.  My first memory of list-making goes back to when I was probably seven or eight years old who knows exactly?  It was a list of daily chores I would do around the house on pages for each day of the week and attached to a small clipboard:  Monday: Take the garbage out. Tuesday: Dust. Wednesday: Clean the bathroom… those kinds of things.  Simple in their purpose but deep in meaning as to the reasons why.

Those lists of things to do were probably the first sign of my compulsion to write things down.  But why would one so young be so inclined?  It certainly wasn’t something “normal” for a boy to do, but I did it nevertheless.  And what of my propensity to be organized?  Did it all have something to do with a need to bring structure, some kind of order to an otherwise unstructured, disorderly life?  Was this my way to gain some control?

Warm Subjects – Filling the Chairs

I just started this 30 posts in 30 days self-imposed challenge yesterday and I’m already having second thoughts.  Certainly my life, which is to say the least, a bit unstable these days is not the best situation in which one should add additional pressure, but I remain up to the task.  Your 30-day challenge — should you accept of course— is, can you read ’em all?

I’m reminded of my favorite late-night talk show host Johnny Carson who once made a statement to a guest, in a semi-condescending way.  Carson said he didn’t care that much who he had on stage with him every night, he just needed “warm bodies” to fill the guest chair.  In the same way I just need warm subjects to fill my daily posts.  But more than that I need to write something interesting and compelling enough that will bring my readers back for more.  That’s the rub!

It’s been said writing is 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration.  This is true. Writing these blogs never come easy for me.  Each one of them takes a lot of time, blood, sweat and yes often even a few tears.

Ode to Smith Corona

The Smith Corona - Just Like my Mom's

I’ve been wondering lately, “What happened to my mother’s old typewriter?” Darn I wish I knew! No doubt she gave it to a friend or a family member. I sure would love to have it now! To put it in the corner of my den (if i had one) in homage to an era long-gone and to the instrument where-all-this-began.

By ‘all this,’ I mean my inclination to want to write. Back then it was “typing”. Whether it be a letter, a list, school work or banging out useless nonsense I was a typin’ fool! How many times I must have typed The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog. From the time I was a young boy, eleven or twelve years old — maybe earlier, I would spend hours in front of that Smith Corona Super-Silent. Looking at the photo above floods my mind with memories.

Non Omnis Moriar

Quintus Horatius Flaccus was born some sixty-five years before Christ and died eight years before the Savior’s birth. Known in the English-speaking world as Horace, he was the leading Roman lyric poet during the reign of Augustus the first Emperor of the Roman Empire. “Carpe diem” or seize the day and “non omnis moriar” are all Horace originals from a long time ago. In Horace’s poetic style he expressed his personal and emotional feelings. In his world lyric poems did not have to rhyme, and even today do not need to be set to music or to a beat. “Perfect” I thought! I’ll be a poet in the style of the great Horace! No music and no rhyme, I got the time, let the writing begin!