ErickVeil.com

Here we are at the end of July, and my first “Blog” entry. I used to write up junk like this when I first came to the internet, except I used HTML and updated a webpage. When I was a kid I always wanted my own “zine,” a very cheap, very local news magazine that revolved around the news of my teenage life. Zines were published on Xerox copy machines back then. It was a cost I could not justify, as I had doubts anyone was willing to pay for a self-published paper. I was always worried about recouping overhead costs for things like that. Besides, I always had great ideas for presentation and layout of the zine’s style, but never any actual content to put in there.

Then came my computer, I learned HTML in seconds. I actually made a webpage and updated it with HTML news and the like. Laid the whole thing out in my idea of a good webpage. There was a gallery of my art, a page of links, and a section of HTML ratings of whatever was on my mind. After a while I wondered, “What’s the point?” I mean, who cares about my point of view? Are you really that bored that you read about what I think about random trash? So the primitive form of blogging I did was ended, as long as a few years back.

Little did I know that I had left an audience hanging. I did have a small number of people who read my crap, a small but important audience seemed to be very interested in what I had to say about anything: my parents. They live on the other side of the country from me, and, well, I’m a hermit by nature; too reclusive to call my mom or even my closest friends on a frequent basis. Those people who stay involved in my life are those who tolerate my long periods of simply not being there—something many find too bothersome to stick around for. But my parents are stuck with me, the original prototype of their genetic experiments. On the rare moments we speak on the phone they STILL ask about this webpage I abandoned years ago. My mom has every page, every word printed on paper. I was struck with the notion that these two wanted to hear more from the mind of their son who sucks at frequent communication.

So, mom and dad, this blog’s for you. You’ll find that even now my brain works much like it did back when it wore a big old mohawk and disrespected much everything set before it. I know you get a kick out of it, so enjoy.