Name That Blog

   The past eight months have been nothing less than a blunt object applied repeatedly and skillfully to my psyche. I lost my job in October (just shy of 13 years with the company), the Internal Revenue Service suggests that they require more money from me (an unfortunate misunderstanding), my wife routinely beats me at Scrabble (who knew that ‘xu’ is a Vietnamese coin?), and – most disheartening of all – I am not so clever as I had imagined.

I have not entered the blogosphere lightly, weighing narcissism against self-expression. Narcissism has won. If self-expression was my goal, then I would write these words, stash them in a file on drive c:/, and never see them again.

Narcissism views self-expression in its reflection from a still pond, and believes that the rest of the world can only benefit from viewing the same image.
Horse puckey.

   Still, narcissism pushes me onward.

   A demanding mistress - or gigolo in the interest of equanimity – narcissism demands a price for its companionship. ‘Name the Blog’ is the first bauble extracted as fee for service. It is in this, the very first phase of courtship, that I learn that I am not so clever as I thought. Or at least no more clever than those who have blogged before.

With whimsy as my guide and the ‘bon mot’ as my destination, I choose the phrase to become the banner of my blog and the url address to attract thousands of clicks per post. I chuckle as the first phrase leaves my fingertips and enters the blogosphere: ‘Passing Gas.’ The chuckle is short lived. Some blogging wag has secured the phrase.

It is the work of a moment to find a suitable synonym, which evokes both frivolity and an underlying seriousness. I choose ‘Breaking Wind,’ release it to the blogosphere and in less than the work of a moment it is thrown back in my face. Too clever too late.

My brain churns as I attempt to stay loyal to the theme, and I recall a fellow counselor from scout camp. A notorious moaner and sleep-talker, he returned to camp one summer with a couple of years of college under his belt. His nickname, handsomely sewn on the back of his fraternity jersey, identified him as ‘Crack.’ Why, we asked, ‘Crack?’ They called him ‘Crack,’ he said, because he was always cracking wind. Aha!

Rather than ‘Cracking Wind,’ I decide to sidestep the obvious and name the blog ‘Cracking Wise,’ which carries only a hint of gastric discharge and suggests a bit more gravitas in a blog worth reading. Again, I am late to the party. My title was roundly dismissed. Hmmmmm.

Nothing more concisely describes the last eight months than the words ‘Roundly Dismissed,’ which is the fate I hope for this blog. And nothing would be please me more than to have you read these posts, enjoy them or not, then roundly dismiss them from your minds.

Return if you will, for narcissism has been window shopping, and has informed me that the next trinket required to assure its consort is something called ‘Followers.’