No. I'm not Julia Sugarbaker. And I'm not sarcastically thanking Ray Don Simpson for being that guy who is always where women gather, or try to be alone, asking if the book they're reading is any good, or if he can keep them company on the plane. Nope. But I love that speech, and especially the way Dixie Carter said, "Ray Dooonnnn."
I do, however, want to thank my commenters. Not simply for the act of commenting, but for serving up some nice, juicy fastballs for me to launch over the center field fence in batting practice. I LOOOVE responding to comments. It gives me practice for responding to students' off-the-wall observations. Like the lad who asked me yesterday if I had any education whatsoever. Well. That's not really a fair example. It was more of an Emily Litella moment, because he was actually asking if the citizens of a certain county had any education whatsoever, because their annual consumption of BTUs compared to that of the U.S. made them look like the Flintstones compared to the Jetsons. My mistake. I have trouble imagining a world where everything is not about ME.
Genius says he does not even bother to read my blog. He goes straight to the comments, because they're the best part. Oh, but if a post is about HIM, he will go back and read it. Just because. One single seventeen-year-old can't be wrong. The comments are where it's at.
They are also good practice for when I pack up my old kit bag and hit the road to seek my fortune on the stand-up comedy circuit. Practice for responses to hecklers.
Hey! Here's a Top Ten List of WHY COMMENTS ROCK:
10. They prove I have real, live readers, not just Google searchers looking for "wiener nose monkey"
9. Every day is a surprise, finding what comment format Blogger has laid out for me
8. The number of responses informs me of the suckitude level of individual posts
7. Free, unsolicited advice!
6. People reveal their dark secrets
5. I can be snotty AND sweet, kind of like a Sour Patch Kid with the sniffles
4. More chances to talk about ME
3. I can harvest scathingly brilliant ideas for future posts
2. Less filling than a regular post
1. Limitless possibilities for Seinfeld references!
Thank you. I'll be here all year.
7 comments:
And when you hit the comedy club circuit, I will give you a gift: a box that, when opened, will shower you with recorded laughter.
(See? I loved Seinfeld AND Designing Women.)
And I thought it was all about ME! I remember the first time someone commented on my blog, I called the daughter who forced me to blog and I was so amazed that anyone would want to read what I wrote. I tried to answer all of them for awhile, then the season started and he who thought my time should be spent actually working ..........
I start Jones-ing if I don't get comments, I live for them. And it can't possibly be about you.....because its about me!!!!!
All SO TRUE--especially number 9 (what-the-what?) You have great commenters, good beat, fun to dance to, right foot in right foot out--do the hokey pokey...
THAT'S what it's all about.
Sioux,
As long as you're not re-gifting, I accept. Though I was kind of hoping for a statue of ME made out of fusilli pasta, because I'm so silly. Or maybe a Label Baby Jr.
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Kathy,
The first time someone commented on one of my early blogs, she automatically put me in a contest called Big Blogger, wherein she assigned the participants different blog tasks each week, with the weakest entry being eliminated. It was hilarious. I even won it the second year.
I tried to call shenanigans the time I was defeated in a popular vote contest by a cheese sandwich and a sheep on a bicycle. All is fair in Big Blogger.
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Mrs.,
Well, Kathy begs to differ. Don't make me host a virtual cage match for the two of you to determine who it is really all about!
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Leenie,
This comment format has been a-changin' with no manipulation from my corner. I sense a new conspiracy in the making.
Hey, when you go on the comedy tour...I'll come along as the designated "laugher" in the front row! I have a loud and distinctive laugh!
Becky,
As long as nobody asks me to hold a drink, and I set it down, and you drink the wrong one and fall off the wagon. And then show up and heckle me from the front row. Because that's what happened to Jerry, and Elaine's alcoholic boyfriend ruined his act.
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