Living High on the Blog

File today's entry under "you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime, you just might find, you get what you need." Okay, that may be a bit long for the tab on the file folder, but I think you will get my point. Kindly read on.

As some of you will recall, my first two posts were shameless attempts to win a bit of approval from my wife, Amy. I mean, sure, it's nice to have this outlet to express my ideas... blah blah blah... but basically I'm just living every day trying to heal the wounds of neglect from childhood and get a bit of acknowledgment to make me feel better about myself. But isn't that all of us? Okay fine, maybe it's just me. But sadly I am 0 for 2 on the old home front with my "Huff Po" pieces.

Now I will freely admit that my first post was little more than a trifle. A systems test. A preamble to a statement of purpose that I never really made. As for my second post... although it was a heartfelt exploration of my experience being at the center of a controversy... it's also a topic that has been well worn around the Pasternack household lately and the essay was received largely with indifference. I don't mean to paint either my wife as a shrew or myself as a desperate needy child, but I was having flashbacks to summers around the pool trying to get my mom to watch me dive.

Once again, Amy tried to impress upon me that the Huffington Post is meant for serious political analysis and discourse. Okay, fine. So I started pitching her ideas. I suggested a post mortem on Colin Powell's tenure as Secretary of State, asserting that any man named after a part of the digestive system was always going to be destined for shit work. Amy replied with a pitying shake of her head. I posited a clever "what if" scenario wherein the woman at the center of the ongoing Rove-Novak scandal could become a political pundit and retaliate under a pseudonym. I called the piece "Nom de Plame." That one merited an eye roll. Finally, I told her that I wanted to write about my subversive plan to undermine the party in power by registering for the next election as a Republican. I theorized that if everyone was registered as a Republican, we could eliminate the extremist Christian right in the primaries from within. A kind of "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em... then beat 'em" philosophy. That one did it. I believe the word "idiot" was muttered and she left the room. Maybe she was right. Maybe the Huffington Post wasn't the place for me.

Dejected, I shuffled into the office in our home and turned on the computer. To my absolute surprise and amazement, I had received numerous emails from old friends, some of whom I hadn't spoken to in ages, offering kind words about having enjoyed my silly little offerings! And that's not to mention all of the thoughtful comments I received from you, the "Huff Po" regulars. The cumulative effect was equivalent to a gallon of water after a long day in the desert. I was creatively re-hydrated. So much so that I felt strong enough to extend a metaphor over several sentences... with ease!

In all seriousness, I want to thank all of you for the gracious welcome and for the encouragement. Maybe after a dozen or so years you will all be sick of me, too. But for the time being, it's nice to be warmly received. And now, for my next dive... cannonball!