why, and why . . . and who, and how often

OK, so here is my first post. I believe that the requisite material for this one is why, and why . . . and who, and how often?

I have often thought of becoming a writer, and am under the impression that that particular avocation requires that I occasionally compose some written words in order to satisfy some sort of existential requirement of the craft. Therefore I have begun this blog with the singular purpose of creating content and honing skills necessary to become the next Henry Richard Dana.

As to the inquiry regarding the tantilizing and somewhat clandestine title, I am sorry to say that my blog will not be filled with the sordid types of drug induced sex-parties which filled the fantasies of my youth, those I would happily discuss with my mother. The things I can't tell my mother are less shocking and more personal. Anectdotes that describe my failures, and regretable accomplishments, things that don't fit in with the glosssy narrative that I feed to my mother whenever I talk to her on the phone.

"That guy" on the front cover is my grandfather in his 1944 Military photo. I have others of him that I will probably exchange out every once in a while. I do this to protect my anonymity (I don't want my mother finding this - she just got a facebook page, so she is now hooked up to the grid) besides he passed away a few years ago, and this picture looks more like me now than it looked like him at any time in the last 30 years, and I like it. So no harm, no foul.

I hope to post on a relatively regular basis. I am currently waiting for a delivery of yarn so I can begin my next knitting project so hopefully the next few days will be sufficiently vacant and desolate to encourage me to become a habitual blogger. Yes, I knit, and why I knit is a great topic for the next blog entry.