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I Don’t Really Want to Blog…




I hate blogging. And I don’t want to blog.

No… I want to blog and blogs are really hip and cool and so I want to be a hip and cool blogger.

No… I hate blogs and I hate bloggers even more.

Wait… I don’t hate them. I just hate it when people blog about what they had for lunch and all the other inane crap that they go through each day. Seriously? The internet for what you had for lunch or who you met at the dog park? I don’t think so. An entire culture of SAR (self-adsorbed-rubbish).

So when the Amazing Maestro McCormick asked me about blogging for TurfNet, I wanted to write an email that looked something like this:

Dear Peter,

I love you. I do. But please take the concept of me blogging and feed it to your Maine Coon Cat and see if it will come out as some kind of fancy Vermont Cat Crap Coffee.


But like a lot of you, I had more than one Guinness at the 2010 Beer and Pretzels Gala and Turfhead Windshirt Ball and well, the idea seemed to get into my nostrils and then Peter had his wife be really nice to me and then Bastis and Bower hugged me in their non-gay way and Kosak told me he sent me an email I never got about how I should write more and Husting gave me another non-gay hug and Ross flipped me off from across the room and then non-gay way hugged me and told me that I need to write more and well… it went on and on. I am sure it was all a cooked up conspiracy to stroke my giant ego and get me to become what I hate. A blogger. A dirty stinking lunch describing taking up room at my Starbucks blogger.

The nightmare becomes reality. Now I have to think of something to write. Easy. Just like the Julie/Julia chick, I’ll get a famous turfgrass textbook and cook my way through it. If Dr. X says Fescue, I’ll plant some in the neighbor’s yard and blog about how he called Lawn Doctor to fix his weeds. If Dr. Y says Soil Textural Triangle, I’ll blog about how I went to the local Starbucks and entertained the regulars by chalk drawing sandy clay loam on the sidewalk as they enjoy their delicious coffee. And the perfect moment will come… the movie deal already in the works, when I get to the back of the book and build a USGA Green at Home Depot entirely out of lightbulbs and other indoor building materials. Please. Shoot. Me. Now.

Peter McCormick is one of those people. You have to love him. Just like I love Springsteen and the Cake Boss and Joel Simmons and John Chassard and all the other famous Jersey folks, Peter (although no longer a Jersey Boy) is to be loved and the way he looked at me (in a non-gay way) and expressed excitement about my returning to TurfNet as a blogger… well it was better than Clint Eastwood singing in “Paint Your Wagon”

Clint Eastwood Sings

I can just hear Clint (Peter) now…”I was booooorrrn under a wandering star. I was boooooorrrn under a wandering star.” Like oil for water, Peter was crooning to me and well….I just had to say,  “Yes”. I guess I just asked myself…”Do I Feel Lucky?…well Do I, Boy?”

Listen… seriously. I’m honored. I’m sure that blogging for TurfNet will be a glorious thing for me and since it should be all about me, the glory is all mine. Not really. Anyone who has ever written an opinion column knows that you make yourself a bit of a target by being brave enough to write what your beliefs support. But more than that, I’d like to think that maybe, just maybe my love for Words and my love for Turf  and my love for All of You (even you, Coldiron), will push me into taking this seriously while still having a heck of a lot of fun. There’s no question that I’m my own worst critic, so if you say mean things… it won’t matter… I’m sure I’ll have already said it. And if you say nice things, well, then I’ll contribute to the beautification of the world at Starbucks with my smile.

For this to be good, I might cut a little deep, strike a little close to home or maybe just be the guy who convinces Chiefs-Sink-199x300.jpgChief to pick up that water control thing in the shower and throw it out the window.

I don’t think I can do this without having some passion. I don’t think I’m funny enough to be Randy Wilson. But I know I’m not starched stiff in my AOG Blazer. Our time, right now, is a bit of a crisis. It’s a time when our crazy business is threatened in ways we never thought of. And our individual lives are also in various stages of flying over the Cuckoo’s Nest. I might open some eyes by the things that open mine. And we might all have to dig in to the trenches and duck…together. I think that’s why Peter started Turfnet…so we Turfheads could do stuff…together.

Zeal. It’s the first part of being a Zealot. I don’t know much about blogging and I don’t want to be caught dead using words like “Blogsphere” or referring to you all as “My Readers” . I can’t contain my Zeal and I can’t think of a better place to uncork my insanity than TurfNet.

Thanks for reading. Hold on tight.

~ Informal conversation is probably the oldest mechanism by which opinions on products and brands are developed, expressed, and spread. ~    -Johan Arndt


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