Whose Blog Is It Anyway?

Whose Blog Is It Anyway?

Lately I’ve been participating in this blog contest, Blogger Idol.

In order to enter the contest we needed to submit an audition, explaining our blogs and inviting the judges to take a look at them. Somehow I managed to make the finals, over the course of which I am tasked with a new assignment every week that is meant to stretch my writing abilities. Our assignments are rated by a selection of judges, whose scores are then combined with at-large votes from the online community.

I am still alive, but none of the assignments so far has exactly been in my wheelhouse, and several of the judges have professed reservations about some of my drinking-related and/or fatherhood-griping-related content. Which has confused me a little, since I auditioned and all. But it’s not their fault if they don’t like my blog or my sense of humor. It’s the luck of the draw.

But now I am faced with a bit of a dilemma. Because I want to win the contest. But not by changing my style.

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Going Soft

Going Soft

Despite my best efforts, I think I’m going soft. My son is turning me into a wuss.

My wife likes to “joke” that I am a robot (I use quotes because she’s never laughing when she says it and I’m pretty sure it tears her up inside), or that I have no heart, because I never cry at commercials or movies or TV shows.

I like to think it’s because I’m not shallow and/or because my father raised me to believe that showing emotion was a sign of weakness (my father is John Wayne).

But having a child seems to be reducing my stoicism in uncomfortable ways. I’m beginning to care about people.

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