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February 13, 2008
Goin' Fishing
(Caution: The following registered a 95.9 on the Rambling Self-Indulgence Scale (c)2002, University of Wyoming, beating the previous high of 93.1 set on my 30th birthday)
You may or may not know this, but in August, BunkoSquad will have been around for ten years. That's longer than Presidential administrations, longer than most marriages, longer even than the Yankees' World Series drought. That's a long freaking time. To put it in perspective, when BunkoSquad first started, it was just an infrequently-updated hodgepodge of movie quotes, sports observations and bitching about the weather. And since then, it's grown into...well. Um.
I've joked more than once that in just ten years, this site's readership has literally tripled. Yeah. That's one of those black-humor situations. I think in ten years, I've had about four posts percolate into something that gets noticed beyond my cadre of loyal stalwarts. Which isn't to say that I don't appreciate and love said cadre, it's just that if you keep fishing in the same lake for your whole life, you've got to sit down and think over whether it's because you really really like the taste of those fish, or because you don't know where else to try.
Also, the shop where I used to buy my sensical metaphors went out of business.
Anyway, the point(?!) is that I really don't know anymore what I want this site to be. Politics - there's a million people doing it better, putting sweat and work into it that I know I can't or won't. Sports - I have an outlet for that now (you are reading Bostonist regularly, right?) and don't have a lot of leftovers for here. I suppose it could turn into one of those navel-gazing reflective blogs, but frankly my day-to-day life bores the holy hell out of me, and I can't even imagine plucking out anecdotes and life lessons and arranging them into something that won't cause a stampede to the exits.
"But wait...", I hear from out there somewhere. "What about your movie countdown?" I've had one person, who doesn't even use the Internet, complain to me about how long it's taking. (True.) I've had one person wistfully say that they used to wait and wait for the next review with their grandparents, and now their grandchildren are learning to read, and waiting and waiting for the next review makes it feel like five generations are linked. (Not true, but just you wait.) I don't have a good answer for this.
But I do have a bad one. See, I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable living in a world where "me finishing something I started" is possible. One of the great leitmotifs in my life is the Brilliant Idea Not Carried Out. True story: in high school, I was an APBA junkie - the stats-based baseball card game that can probably be all done by computers now. I took the 1990 cards, made a schedule where each team would play each other team twice, and played out an entire season. Made trades and everything. No, I never did go on a date in high school, thanks for asking. Then the regular season ended, I drew up my playoff brackets, and - that was it. Just stopped. I never played it through, never crowned a champion (though I'd have bet on the Astros - they seemed to be peaking at the right time), and have nothing to show for it except a trail of bemused Staples employees wondering about the dweeb who used to come in weekly and order 100 copies of a blank box score.
So maybe you can see why the idea of me finishing something as monumental as [I've let] this project [become] freaks me out. If I accomplish something this [didn't have to be so] difficult, what then? What am I, if not a one-man cavalcade of fuzzy unrealized ambition? (Here's where I realize I should have password-protected this entry, and would have if I thought anyone would still be reading.)
But if anyone asks, I'll say it's because they still haven't released The African Queen on Region 1 DVD yet.
I guess what I'm trying to say, after a fashion, and after that cringeworthy trip down Memory Lane, is that if I go days and days and days between entries, it's not out of mere laziness or procrastination (really!) but because I want it to mean something, to be part of a cohesive body of blathering that will make future scholars go, "OK, I guess maybe he did know what he was doing." Or else it's because things disappear off the front page after 30 days and an empty blog with a long sidebar is a depressing sight indeed.
I know the theory that when you write, you're supposed to write for yourself. And I am truly grateful (and a bit stunned) that occasionally, what I write means something to someone else. But, I'll be honest here, I've recently entertained thoughts of pulling the plug on the site. I mean, really, having a personal website that lasts 9.8 years seriously appeals to whichever part of me loves unfinished business.
But I'm going to stick it out. Maybe some puddings don't need a theme. My brain is all over the place, and retreads the same ground, and vapor-locks on occasion - why shouldn't my website? I'll never write anything as good as Proust; I doubt I'll ever even read anything as good as Proust. Hell, I know the difference between "lose" and "loose", which right there puts me in the 92nd percentile of the Internet. I want this site to be something that's never finished, not because I gave up, but because I don't want it to end. (The movie countdown's another story, and all I can offer you there is another sheepish shrug and a promise).
And I want you all to come to my 10th Anniversary Party this summer. Even if not another soul finds this site between now and then.
Kthxbye.
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