milestone

Every once and a while we have to scratch our own backs.

Today's entry is blog post number 50. For those of you that know me you know this is a mind-boggling feat on my part. To accomplish 50 of any one thing... it's just not me. But against all odds and everyone's (including my own) misconception of Joseph P. Harter, I did it. I didn't realize I was about to embark on number 50 until I looked down the sidebar two weeks ago and saw the number 49. I wasn't shooting for this number. I'm not being paid to write. I have no ads on this page. Some posts took me hours and some took minutes. However long each post took it's been fun. To be honest, the first set of comments from my initial post was all I needed. Comments signify that I'm being read and I love them. I'm hooked.

Authoring a blog was an experiment of sorts to wake my brain. I'm glad I tried it out. I type better and faster now. My reporting skills are much better. I enjoy writing about my kids. All in all, I've tapped into a portion of my mind that I never knew existed. I have never written while intoxicated but I often wonder what I'd produce while on a few higher consciousness drugs. Probably a lot of shit about health care, politicians, TV evangelists and oil company executives. I'll stay away.

If I was to leave this earth tomorrow I hope someone will pass this web address on to my kids when they're of age. Maybe they'll be proud of who their dad was and what he accomplished. Yes, I'm blowing this 50 thing way out of proportion but it's a learned skill (from my bro Mark) to always take anything one says to the next level of absurdity and then take it further. There's always another level. Unclear? Here's an example using a conversation with my brother:

Mark: I had to discipline Jayman today. He was being a bear.
Me: Oh man, what did you do?
Mark: I had to put him in a timeout.
Me: No way.
Mark: (3 second pause) There was fire involved also.
Me: Cool.
Mark: (3 second pause) And a staple gun.
Mark: (3 second pause) Then I punched my neighbor in the face and shit in his pool.

I swear it's all an act. Mark is a great dad. It's just an exercise we like to do whenever we're together. If we ever timed it, my sister-in-law would get the world record for eye rolling.

I have learned that the title of my blog, Bare Witness, is also the title of a movie. This is depressing because I thought I was being creative with that title. So, I'm thinking about changing it. I also would not like to be sued even though I'd defend myself and win and be the subject of many law school textbooks. Oops, there I go again. The next logical choice for a name (in my mind) would be Beer Witness but I don't know. Any ideas? There may be a monetary prize for something that catches my eye.

Side note for historical reasons:

Sue ran out of gas on Route 663 today. She didn't run out of the kind of gas that makes the sheets move in the morning. She has plenty of that. I'm talking about the van. The freaking Odyssey's fuel door is on the driver side of the vehicle. This location is fine if you live in Great Britain and drive on the left side of the road but because we don't I had to put some gas in the van with my ass basically in front of traffic. When I say traffic, I mean 18 wheelers traveling at mach 7. Quite the adventure it was. Hopefully Sue learned that driving the van around town for three days with the fuel light on means she should probably stop and get gas starting out the fourth day. I have coached Eric nonetheless to ask mommy if there's enough gas every time they get in the car.

This is getting long winded and I apologize. My whole point at the beginning of this great, Pultitzer deserving milestone post was to thank all my readers for their time and taking an interest towards what I have to say even if it's mindless nonsense. Sincerely. Thank you!

Number 50 in the books. Now if you'll excuse me there's a parade in my honor.