Leave Me Out of It

An old friend recently dropped by the new house in Barstow.

“Don’t tell anyone I’ve been here,” she said. “And especially don’t put it in your blog.”

You would be surprised how often I am told “Don’t put it in your blog.” It’s as if the entire world is on the Witness Protection plan and want to avoid Mafia attention.

Which is silly, since only about seven people read this blog, and none of them know any of my friends or relatives.

I have an in-law who gives me good advice from time to time, but who also insists that he should not be named or even referred to in the blog. Too much pressure, he says.

Also, that Witness Protection thing.

This is an impulse I can’t understand. I would love to be mentioned in another writer’s blog. Preferably being referred to as handsome, witty, and full of wise thoughts and bon mots. “The best friend a writer ever had” would be nice, though “a much better writer than me or anyone I know” would be better.

Alas, no one cares enough about me to mention me in their blog. I guess I’m not interesting enough. Or maybe I don’t know anyone who has a blog, as these little letters to the world are becoming obsolete. Is it more than 144 characters? Not interested.

But being obsolete is nothing new to me. After all, I’m a solo lawyer in the age of the big law firms. I write stories by hand when everyone has run to their iPods. (I had an iPod but it ran away from home.) I’m vanilla in an age of Neopolitan.

But I promise you, I will not mention your name in this blog. Unless your name is Minerva. In which case, you knew what you were getting into when you entered my head 4 years ago.