Rock Star

I know that I am not “all that and a bag of chips”. Some people take to me right away. For others I am an acquired taste. There are even a handful of folks who will never cotton to me. It took me many years to acknowledge these revelations and, yes, even a few more to accept them.

Since embracing these realizations I am a much happier person. I no longer beat my head against a brick wall in vain attempts to get people to like me. I simply just move along.

I feel the same way about my writing. It’s not for everyone. Frankly, it’s not for anyone. I do it for me. It’s nice when someone connects with something I’ve written and they tell me so. Yeah. That’s a good feeling. I won’t lie about that.

When someone reports that something I wrote made them laugh in the thick of a particularly heinous day, that I “made” their day? Unless it starts raining French vanilla ice cream and snowing Snickers bars, I cannot think of much else that makes me happier than hearing that! Unless you’re a zillionaire giving away money or a stripper giving away something else, how many people get to make someone’s day?

While writing this post I began to think about that last question. My conclusion? Not many. And then I thought how I hadn’t considered Rock Stars. It’s highly likely that Rock Stars (or anyone else who gets to experience “applause” on a regular basis) get to experience this feeling more than even this lowly blogger (or any blogger, for that matter) ever will.

I’ve decided that this is how I’m going to think of myself from now on. As a rock star. Maybe I’ll start wearing a bandana, like Bonjovi, Little Steven, and Axl Rose do when they “work the crowd”. Whaddya think about that? Wanna join me? We could get a band together! (I call the red bandana, though. I think that’s only fair. After all, I founded the band.)