BLOGGING: Too much Maury Povich?

Others, all of us, except a few who maybe knew enough to stick to rules and regulations, have wondered if we’ve revealed too much of personal lives and personalities within our words, because our blogs are open journals of our lives. Our lips are sealed, and yet our fingers fly on keyboards, sticking letters in a string that maybe makes some sense, or maybe not. We see ourselves, we’ve met some awesome people, we’ve grasped at hands that wrote the words we often need to hear. There are things I’ve told you here that I wouldn’t tell my next door neighbor.

I flicked to catch the weather on TV the other day, and landed on a talk show where a mother of three children was back again to check a fourth man’s DNA in hopes that maybe he had fathered at least one of them. There were other couples there as well. They yelled, they cried, they called each other names, they let it all hang out. Maury stood sympathetically at center stage, confident his musclemen could keep him safe from flying fists. They must be paid, I thought, they MUST do this for some money, and it isn’t real.

And if it is, I couldn’t do that with the seamy hungry side of America eagerly watching. But it has made me think, and maybe I should be a bit more professional and protective. Maybe there are things just better kept to myself.

There are friends out here, but many more are simply bored googling gawkers. I’m careful in the world of flesh and blood. Too many are mere manipulators, but they’re easier to see because it’s body language, eyes, and often never words at all that tell the truth.

But then, I write. I am more honest or revealing here than in the vocal conversation.

Forget it, I’m just being weird today I guess.