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Charlie Hatton
Watertown, MA
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I have way, way too many posts here.
Not that I'm complaining, mind you. There's somewhere north of 1400 entries in the archives, if you include all the standup show descriptions and the 100 Things Posts About Me. All those words, horked out over the span of five and a half years, are quite an accomplishment. Of sorts.
Or they'll be an insurmountable mound of evidence against me in a trial some day. You say po-TAY-to, I say po-TAH-to.
"I get derailed reading cooking instructions for Pop-Tarts. So this kind of mixup is really no shocker."
All I know is that the mound is growing near-daily, and these posts are getting awfully hard to keep track of. Case in point: I keep a tiny little list of posts I like -- only twenty -- over on the sidebar. And I realized just today that one of the links there was pointing to the wrong place. Had been for months, possibly years.
(That's just the sort of quality assurance you can expect around here. At this point, I'm lucky to keep fresh bubble gum and duct tape in place to hold the server together.
Don't even get me started on the team of hamsters running the thing. They've talking about forming their own union. Rodents Local 101. Their first demand is gold-plated exercise wheels. It's a nightmare.)
At any rate, it turns out that my sidebar shortcut title 'A Shitbox Showdown' pointed for ages to the post A Shitbox Showdown, from a couple years back. This seems reasonable enough.
Except that's not really what I had in mind. Oh, that's a nice enough post. And when that trial comes around, the post will prove that, at least once, I didn't lose myself in a marauding mist of manly maneuvering and succumb to road rage when the opportunity arose. So that's nice.
But all the while, what I meant to link to was a different source of shitbox shenanigans, Once Upon a Commute Dreary. Which I helpfully subtitled 'Grandma in a Shitbox Ford'. And which, sadly, shows a time when I did pray at the altar of the road rage demon. Just a little.
Somehow the similar subjects completely confuddled me when it came to making the link. It's not difficult to do. I get derailed reading cooking instructions for Pop-Tarts. So this kind of mixup is really no shocker. And it's fixed now, with 'A Commute Dreary' taking its place in the Hall of Special Shames atop the right sidebar.
Anyway, I'm happy to have all of these posts here, favorite, misremembered or otherwise. They all squeezed out of me -- some more slowly and painfully than others -- so in some sense, they're like children. Little snotfaced wordy children. And like many children, they just sit there all day, doing nothing.
Well, no more.
Starting today, I'll be devoting a weekend entry to highlighting (or lowlighting) one of those previously-penned posts, or some idea that runs through one or more. Like the shitbox car.
(See? It's started already.)
Why dig through the archives this way? Because these posts deserve to see the light of day again. And because maybe I can add details or context or a brief backstory to the original idea.
But mostly because I'm lazy. I'll write new crap on the weekdays. The weekends, I'm taking off. Mostly.
So welcome to the inaugural Weekend Werind. (Alliteration, it's a disease. Fear it!)
These posts won't ever be just a link to an old piece -- that's a little too 'meta' for my tastes. And they probably won't be quite so long, now that I've explained the notion. But they will give me most of the weekends off, and that's just more time for me to get into ridiculous trouble. Which I'll write about during the week.
And the circle of drivel rolls on. Happy Saturday, kids.
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