Why

Blame Lee Strong.

We've known each other for years. We've shared long conversations about life, art, religion, sex, humor, politics, and which was the best Beatle. (John)

We both enjoy beer.

We've argued a few times. We've even not spoken for months at a time.

I've had violent thoughts about him.

But we have remained friends.

When my wife died, he sat with me. He didn't say much. He just sat there.

I didn't think of suicide.

But I might have if he hadn't been there.

So anyway, he started this blog a year ago. From the back pew. (http://backpew.blogspot.com/)

It's okay. He's had some good pieces in it. Check it out.

He said I should start one.

Actually, what he said was that I was so full of it that I needed either a blog or a toilet to relieve myself.

Nice.

You won't see him write stuff like that in his blog. He's got to keep up this image of the deacon-wanna-be.

(By the way, I don't think he would be a good deacon. He's basically a good guy, really religious actually, but he's not a people person and he has too many questions about the Catholic Church. And I know the way his mind works. As he sits in the choir looking at people's faces, he's also checking out the women.

He loves his wife, but he likes breasts.)

(How's that for relieving myself?)

I avoided starting one for a long time. It's too trendy. Like all the cowboy chic after Brokeback Mountain.

But the other day at work I found myself thinking of something that, if I said it, would have upset some peopel there.

I bit my tongue. 20 years ago I wouldn't have. I would have just said what I wanted to say, then stepped back and watched.

If it got too bad I'd just say, "I was just kidding."

After all, my last name can be translated as "the joke."

Ha. Ha.

But I'm getting older.

So I chomped down.

It hurt.

And sometimes I do feel kind of backed up.

So it occured to me that maybe Lee is right.

Don't tell him I said that.