At my wife’s dance recital this past weekend, a dancing mom came up to me and said something along the lines of, “You were a topic of conversation at a soccer party the other day. Were your ears burning?” They were not. What guy wouldn’t love to be the topic of conversation among soccer moms at a soccer team party? That’s the stuff of which dreams are made. However, given my lack of charm, looks, or any other appreciable physical asset or character trait, I immediately began wondering what horrific negative things these people were talking about. Much to my delight, that wasn’t the case either.
What this mom said to me was, and I am paraphrasing here, “Someone asked if anyone read Thad Hankins’ blog. It got really quiet and then one by one people sheepishly started raising their hands.”
Let me say this, I think that is great! The fact that anyone at all would take a few minutes and read something that I wrote is a miracle. But as I got to thinking about the whole sheepish hand raising part, I began to wonder what was so wrong with reading my blog? It may not be funny or interesting or thought-provoking but is it really something one should be sheepish about? I mean, at least these moms didn’t date me at some point in their lives. That would be something for them to be embarrassed about. Just ask Gigi.
My question is this: Have I now been relegated to the “guilty pleasure” category with the likes of watching Saved by the Bell, listening to Wham, and drinking Strawberry Creme Frappucinos with whipped cream on top from Starbucks when you’re a dude(I don’t do that, it’s a friend of mine)? If someone who reads my blog had to go on Maury, would they insist their voice be distorted to sound like Barry White with a frog in his throat and their face turned into a mass of pixelated squares? Gosh.
Whatever the reason for the sheepish hand-raising, I’m taking the fact that someone reads this as a compliment. Even if this one in particular came sliding in sideways like Compliments are hard to come by when you are me. Plus, there are a million other important things someone could be doing besides reading my blog. Cutting their toenails and cleaning out the freezer spring immediately to mind. I suppose it’s better to be a guilty pleasure than an innocent pain in the rear, though. Be sheepish if you must. Heck, be ashamed even. Just keep reading! And remember…Time can never mend the careless whispers…of…a…good…friend.