First posted on Mark Is Cranky:
As I related a couple of years ago, I came upon the music of Tom Waits more or less by accident. I heard “Pasties and a G-String (At The Two O’Clock Club)” on a local college radio station. The song, and the subsequent discovery of the rest of the Waits catalog, really opened up my head for the possibilities of what music had to offer.
Though I didn’t know it at the time, that day’s the little epiphany turned out to be one of the keys to my future writing life. Wow, all from one little song about strippers. Who’d a thunk it?
Well, I discovered Blogcritics in a similar way. I heard a few stories about these things called “blogs” and ventured out there onto the Internet in search of them. One of my favorite blogs was something called “Up Yours And Other Helpful Hints”. It was full of what makes a blog great: high energy bitchin’ about life via some perfect-rendered potty mouth. Well sure, there was a little sex talk too, but that wasn’t the main attraction…at least I don’t think so. OK, you all can wipe off the grin formin’ on your face!
So the author of that blog was none other than Dawn Olsen. Pretty much the holder of the MasterPottyMouth trophy until The Duke. More important, Dawn’s husband, a Mr. Eric Olsen, turned out to be a writer who was starting a new type of group blog thing. Oh yea, sign me up, I think.
And the rest is history. Only a few years of history mind you, but chock full of changes for all manner of folks, myself included.
So the point of this thing, if there is one, is that this Friday Morning Listen happens to be my 500th post to Blogcritics. I tell you, I had absolute no idea how my life would change just from reading that one snarky little blog. Now I’ve got piles of new music laying around, stacks of old first drafts, busted #2 pencils, reviews and such posted on the Internet, collaborative writing pals, proposals in the works and head-scratching writing sessions ’til 2AM.
I’m still a little amazed by it all.
P.S. Tom Waits is a California type but, if he lived in my area, it wouldn’t surprise me if he ran his snowblower decked out in funky outerwear. In that spirit, I present you with a picture of your humble author in his favorite Husqvarna-wrangin’ hat: