The "blogfather" revisited

It always, always strikes me as equal parts sad and hilarious that people are so reluctant to do some necessary research before forming their opinions, or, in this case, before lashing out.

From the email inbox:

uve got some nerve calling yourself the blogfather. there are lots of good bloggers on the net in this area and nobody other than you decided to call you the king. wise up and try blogging something worth reading. f**king jerk

Obviously, the "eff" part was edited by me.

First of all, that "blogfather" moniker was not self-affixed. In all honesty, the first time I read that in electronic print, I cracked up big time. Thanks for that. You know who you are. That seldom-used title was attached to me by one of those "good bloggers" you so fervently referred to.

I am not infatuated with myself in the least, nor do I have some uber inflated sense of where my many scribblings would land on some literary pecking order, real or imagined. I have been told on many occasions that I have a way with words, but I have always chalked that up to heredity, despite the fact that I'm an blithering idiot.

And, truth be told, I'm not upset by your email, or by your demonstrated lack of attention to local, recent history.

The thing is, somebody had to come first. Somebody had to do it first, localized poliblogging, that is. Somebody had to blaze a trail for others to follow. And as upsetting to you as it may be, that somebody was me.

These days, with poliblogging becoming almost mainstream to some degree, candidates for political office seek out the love and affection of local political bloggers. So do the elected, but to a much lesser and much more closely guarded and controlled degree. It's free publicity, provided that the recipient--the blogger--doesn't go all negative on them.

But in my day, all that I received from the aforementioned scoundrels-in-the-making was grief, implied threats, not-so-veiled intimidation, promised retribution and middle fingers, as well as a few chest bumps while the vulgarities flowed forth. I was the first. Big whoop! Somebody had to do it. With the advent of the internet, it was inevitable that somebody would get to questioning public policy on a very localized scale.

But I will say this for myself. What I brought to the then-nascent blogging movement in NEPA was testicular fortitude. The more blowback I received, the more I remained defiantly in-the-face of those who would make sophistry of my city, and my county as well. If I had backed down in those heady days, they would have sought to back down the next fool who dared to poliblog.

I offer no apologies for anything I may have done, nor for anything I may have typed. I sought out no celebrity, rather, what I sought was a much-improved city in which to live. And whether anyone likes it, or whether anyone likes me matters not to me. In the end, I got exactly what I wanted, I got exactly what I blogged for: a much-improved city in which to live. Back then, in my swirling mind, somebody had to do it. And I did it. And then some.

These days, I think of myself more as a writer of ersatz musings than a man on any particular political crusade. But be forewarned, you just never know when one of these do-nothing, know-nothing types might set me off all over again.

The "blogfather?"

Um, yeah. For what it's worth, that would be me. And all that I got for all of that tireless effort was this moth-eaten campaign T-shirt.

Now move on.

Buh-bye



P.S.-- I just asked my 2-year-old grandson, Avery, what his name is.

He said, "Me."