Table Head.
DK
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The idea of a blog is much easier to digest than actually writing one. I can actually hear Nike-esque Chariots of Fire music, just for this first post. The crowd is chanting Just. Do. It. Which, by the way, is not an easy flowing chant. I always imagined the different sides of the stadium, one side chanting D -- the other side chanting K.
None the less, its all about the writing. With millions of other blogs out there in the blogosphere, I can do it. And maybe I have silently always wanted to have a digital journal a-la Doogie Howser.
Why Table Seven? I flew solo to a rehersal dinner of an old, dear friend. Being a Lone Ranger, I was poorly seated at a table of marrieds and mateds. I had a a running email surrounding the train wreck reality show, The Bachelor, and many of the twosies were regular receivers of the recaps. Sitting there with an essential bunch of strangers, but who knew my voice, they blew more than necessary amounts of sunshine up my arse. Table Seven. Whenever I think back to when I first was under the mis/impression that maybe I could actually write and entertain. Maybe my random anecdotes were worth a chuckle. Maybe I owe these people something. Maybe just a pat on the back. Granted, the almost-married couple, table seven and I were celebrating, now have a child. So, I am a little slow to the uptake... Better late then never?
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