The 100th Post

When – if – a sitcom reaches its 100th episode, it is a cause for great celebration, not just for the fans of a beloved TV show, but for the producers and actors and anyone else who stands to profit from syndication. The 100th episode is where the money tree really begins to bear fruit – and a celebratory episode is often prepared, full of knowing inside references for long-time fans.

In studied contrast, this is the 100th posting in Second Effort. Since blogs are self-published endeavors, all 100 posts mean for certain is that the blogger is sufficiently stubborn, delusional, or at least sufficiently self-absorbed to keep plugging away. The Curmudgeon is certainly stubborn and self-absorbed, but even he recognizes that excessive celebration is not at all called for at this point in the development of Second Effort. Still, some acknowledgment seems in order. Thus, the task of the 100th posting has been delegated to yours truly. This may seem something of a cop-out to you, too. Nevertheless, we soldier on.

A recent entry on a BBC news page suggests that there are now 52 million bloggers. If this is an accurate count, then it is probably also true that 50 million of the 52 million are devoted to family foibles and occasional introspection. Some of these bloggers are content to write just for friends and family – a Christmas letter that updates all year long. But many of these bloggers crave readers and ads and book contracts and the opportunity to jump sit on Oprah’s couch. Just like The Curmudgeon.

How does Second Effort differ from the rest of these?

First, The Curmudgeon is male. Most of the ‘family life’ blogs are written by women. By moms. The Curmudgeon’s Long Suffering Spouse could probably write a very funny blog – and that would be more typical of the genre – and The Curmudgeon cringes at the thought of how he might be depicted in same.

Second, The Curmudgeon is old. Not Guinness Book of World Records old; not even Medicare and Social Security old. But old enough that two The Curmudgeon’s five children can be legally served in any gin mill in the United States. By comparison with the typical denizen of the Blogosphere, The Curmudgeon is positively ancient.

The Curmudgeon refers to himself as a “dinosaur” – not that he’s extinct, but that he lives a cheerfully old-fashioned life: titular head of an intact nuclear family; a churchgoing resident of the bungalow belt. Still, he must not be a complete Luddite, else he would not have plunged into this medium.

So, stay with us, won’t you, as The Curmudgeon starts his second hundred posts in Second Effort?