Before getting too deep into the customary claptrap to be discovered on this awesome page of electronic webness, I briefly offer another helping of introductory poppycock, mainly to give a sense of what is to come and because I giggle to myself every time I say ‘poppycock.’ To those 12 of you who read my first entry, don’t have any idea who I am, and have yet returned (you know who you are), I seek to avoid Stranger Danger by offering a little about me personally…
My name is Tim. I am unusual in that I am alarmingly typical except that I got moves like Jagger. I currently reside in the Kinkadey-Rockwellish suburban enclave of White Bear Lake, Minnesota (a Scandinavian word meaning “very tiny sota.”). I grew up in west Michigan, where unconfirmed rumors circulate of certain individuals there rooting for Spartans over Wolverines, a notion so ridiculous it just might be true. I lived in the same house my entire life until I went to college, at which time I rendered the previous part of this sentence untrue. Having graduated from a good school and yet finding my degree useless for the workplace, I went back and obtained a second one that was even more so.
According to the Disney Channel I am a clumsy ignorant buffoon, commonly referred to as a “dad.” I reside firmly in the shifting middle class with my wife, two teenage daughters, and an Australian shepherd, which, incidentally, is a great idea for a TIM Allen sitcom. To avoid current and future embarrassment to said family members I will henceforth refer to them on this site as The Queen Mother, Thing 1 and Thing 2, and Paul Hogan, respectively–as approved by The Queen Mother.
My current tagline states I am middle-aged, which is a euphemism for “old guy who uses euphemisms.” I am a milquetoast in that I am a TIMid soul who does not care for violence because as the youngest of four boys I could never win. I would have made a great university faculty member in the sixties as I tend to acquiesce at the suggestion of conflict.
Professionally I am a professional who dislikes work and yet works at being professional but has enough free time for people to ask if I am working professionally. My work and lack thereof affords me copious travel opportunities, so be sure to look for that to appear on your right as a future category you can choose to ignore.
People say my pen is special (thanks mom) and I have been prodded for some time now to blog, even though I’m still not exactly sure what that means beyond it being named for a disgraced Illinois governor. Suffice it to say that this is just the latest of my only adventure. Where this journey will take me and how long it will last is to be determined, though if it lasts longer than four hours I suppose I will consult my physician.
Neither do I know what direction the writings will take, as my struggle with what to name my site will attest. Brainstormed options included Tim Lord, Some Who Call Me Tim, TIMMYlectric, Tim Traveler, Manstrating, sTimple pleasures, The Land Before Tim, Pioneer Woman, The Mitch Albom Show, and Cooking with Jane. All the best ones had already been taken.
The goal is to post some sort of blathering every Tuesday–more or less as demand or incentive or the lack of either require. I chose Tuesday because much like myself, it is often overlooked when it comes to nicknames. (I once started a movement to call Tuesday TIMsday, but I blame its failure on the policies of George W. Bush.) And, unlike the weekends, Tuesday affords a higher potential for readership as people are generally at work where they have more time and inclination to surf the net.
Topics you will find here will be largely potpourrhetorical (I just made that word up–a practice I like to call TIMMYbonics) in that like postmodern skepticism, there is no theme other than a lack of theme. The point of the whole mess is simply humor; sometimes light-hearted, sometimes stinging, mosttimes lame. Which brings me to this closing
WARNING (ATENCIÓN) :
I am not dead.
Because I am not dead, over time my philosophical, political, and religious stances are bound to emerge. I am sorry (see previous post). When I am dead my posts will be much more generic and pleasing. In the mean-time I will no doubt be found occasionally offensive through the antiquated practices of honesty and common sense. If I am to be sporadically shunned I am okay with that, as my readership is apt to rise anyway due to increased monitoring by the good folks at Homeland Security.
Thanks for being regular.