I've got bloggin' on my noggin'...
My cousin wrote me a note after reading the blog for the first time… He thinks it’s “pretty neat! Like a stream of consciousness idea.” That’s cool. I never knew I was a “stream of consciousness” kind of writer. All these years, Her Sweetness told me I was nuts (in her inimitable way) and she has never even read any of my blog entries. I like stream of consciousness much better. Consciousness is a good thing. Unconsciousness is a bad thing. No bad things here…nosirree.
So, what I’m wondering is, if my writing is stream of consciousness and if I don’t write, does that mean I’m unconscious? Or is this the infamous subconsciousness we keep hearing about? (Shudder)…what about my Id and my ego and my super-ego? Hmmmmmnnnnnnn… I sense a battle going on here somewhere. Oops. Was that paranoia? What do you mean “she’s weird?!” What makes you say that? Say, did you hear something? I think they’re watching me…reading my words even. Geez Cuz, look what you started here. They’re ganging up on me 3 to 1…
Okay. That’s enough of that.
But here I sit, week after week, day after day, grasping for interesting facts and phrases and trying to cobble together a story for a blog entry, when the truth is, everything is a story about something. And it’s so easy to tell a story. It’s all in the telling. Just ask a reporter or a journalist. They all know that there’s a good story in there somewhere (!) and they will bigawd find it too. Like pigs rooting for choice truffles.
When the sonnies were young and asked for a bedtime story, I borrowed a couple of concepts from our personal lives, embroidered a bit for interest and texture…et voila! A story was born and grew as big as the time it took to get the little devils to sleep. Maybe I just have a fecund mind. More likely, I don’t recognize boundaries. Whatever. It’s just so danged easy when you lose yourself and let it happen.
This blog is growing like that. A couple of months ago I didn’t even know what a blog was! You start out telling stories to a sonny and next thing you know, he grows up and he wants you to tell stories to the whole dad-blamed world. If I think about it, I can’t do it, but if I just put the ole fingers on the keys and start talkin’…
Broadcasting can be a lot like that too. If you worry about it, you freeze up and it doesn’t happen. I watched a lot of trainees do that, so I told them “don’t think about the microphone taking your voice out to hundreds or thousands of strangers, think about the mic as a friend you’re chatting with over the back fence with…or a lover (that always got ‘em…what would this ole woman know about that (!) they were thinking…wouldn’t they be surprised, huh?). It works! It really does!
When I had my program called The Front Porch (for nearly 8 years, and before John Walters on NPR started his show by the same name, by the way), I always stated that it was “a friendly and relaxing” place to listen to music and interviews. And I meant it too. I had a tremendous number of in-studio guests, and I liked to get them to chat for a little while before they started playing…kind of a break-in period for them to relax and tell their story.
Relaxed performers are always at their best and since a lot of the performers were touring musicians and not always well known in this area, it was important for them to peak people’s interest in their music, and what better way to get folks to listen, care and come out to support their concerts than to ‘chat’ a little and tell their story?
I’ve always hated all those super polite interviews with the stock questions and same old stilted and predictable answers. I sit there saying to the radio yeah, but...what about(?)...and how(?)...and why did(?)...and so on. All those questions they ask…and yet they never give the person a chance to unload, and I never find out who they really are. I figure I’m fairly representative of plain ole folks and plain ole folks want a glimpse of someone’s story, to see if it matches up somewhat with their own. Facts and statistics you can read on the CD liner notes or the bio on the web, but they don’t give you a glimpse of ‘who’s’ there.
What we all want is to have someone c’mon up on the front porch, sit down with us for a ‘spell’ and have us a nice chat. We tell each other our stories. We commiserate. What a lonely existence this can be if we don’t get to ‘touch’ once in awhile. It’s important to hear that others are worrying about some of the same things we are, facing some of the same obstacles, coming up with solutions for some of the things plaguing us. It helps us to ‘normalize’ ourselves.
So c’mon over to my blog from time to time, why don’t you? Stop by anytime. I’m always home for a friend. Don’t forget to leave a calling card so I can return the visit and toddle on over to your place from time to time and see if you’re home too…
So, what I’m wondering is, if my writing is stream of consciousness and if I don’t write, does that mean I’m unconscious? Or is this the infamous subconsciousness we keep hearing about? (Shudder)…what about my Id and my ego and my super-ego? Hmmmmmnnnnnnn… I sense a battle going on here somewhere. Oops. Was that paranoia? What do you mean “she’s weird?!” What makes you say that? Say, did you hear something? I think they’re watching me…reading my words even. Geez Cuz, look what you started here. They’re ganging up on me 3 to 1…
Okay. That’s enough of that.
But here I sit, week after week, day after day, grasping for interesting facts and phrases and trying to cobble together a story for a blog entry, when the truth is, everything is a story about something. And it’s so easy to tell a story. It’s all in the telling. Just ask a reporter or a journalist. They all know that there’s a good story in there somewhere (!) and they will bigawd find it too. Like pigs rooting for choice truffles.
When the sonnies were young and asked for a bedtime story, I borrowed a couple of concepts from our personal lives, embroidered a bit for interest and texture…et voila! A story was born and grew as big as the time it took to get the little devils to sleep. Maybe I just have a fecund mind. More likely, I don’t recognize boundaries. Whatever. It’s just so danged easy when you lose yourself and let it happen.
This blog is growing like that. A couple of months ago I didn’t even know what a blog was! You start out telling stories to a sonny and next thing you know, he grows up and he wants you to tell stories to the whole dad-blamed world. If I think about it, I can’t do it, but if I just put the ole fingers on the keys and start talkin’…
Broadcasting can be a lot like that too. If you worry about it, you freeze up and it doesn’t happen. I watched a lot of trainees do that, so I told them “don’t think about the microphone taking your voice out to hundreds or thousands of strangers, think about the mic as a friend you’re chatting with over the back fence with…or a lover (that always got ‘em…what would this ole woman know about that (!) they were thinking…wouldn’t they be surprised, huh?). It works! It really does!
When I had my program called The Front Porch (for nearly 8 years, and before John Walters on NPR started his show by the same name, by the way), I always stated that it was “a friendly and relaxing” place to listen to music and interviews. And I meant it too. I had a tremendous number of in-studio guests, and I liked to get them to chat for a little while before they started playing…kind of a break-in period for them to relax and tell their story.
Relaxed performers are always at their best and since a lot of the performers were touring musicians and not always well known in this area, it was important for them to peak people’s interest in their music, and what better way to get folks to listen, care and come out to support their concerts than to ‘chat’ a little and tell their story?
I’ve always hated all those super polite interviews with the stock questions and same old stilted and predictable answers. I sit there saying to the radio yeah, but...what about(?)...and how(?)...and why did(?)...and so on. All those questions they ask…and yet they never give the person a chance to unload, and I never find out who they really are. I figure I’m fairly representative of plain ole folks and plain ole folks want a glimpse of someone’s story, to see if it matches up somewhat with their own. Facts and statistics you can read on the CD liner notes or the bio on the web, but they don’t give you a glimpse of ‘who’s’ there.
What we all want is to have someone c’mon up on the front porch, sit down with us for a ‘spell’ and have us a nice chat. We tell each other our stories. We commiserate. What a lonely existence this can be if we don’t get to ‘touch’ once in awhile. It’s important to hear that others are worrying about some of the same things we are, facing some of the same obstacles, coming up with solutions for some of the things plaguing us. It helps us to ‘normalize’ ourselves.
So c’mon over to my blog from time to time, why don’t you? Stop by anytime. I’m always home for a friend. Don’t forget to leave a calling card so I can return the visit and toddle on over to your place from time to time and see if you’re home too…
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