Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: blogging (Page 5 of 11)

Run! He’s Writing a Poem

August 20, 2008 / / 89 Comments

Two bloggers friends have been screwing around with my head lately — Jane Devin and Dana Guthrie Martin.  Both of them are what they used to call “writers.”  They do not write screenplays where some guy’s penis gets caught in the trunk of a Toyota Prius.  They write pieces they truly care about.  They love language and ideas and that type of shit.  They are passionate and honest in what they say. 

I hate everything they stand for. 

From now on, whenever I write an “emotional” post which bores you to death, I want you to blame these two bloggers for their negative influences.  Remember when I used to be funny.  How many of you are excited to see Woody Allen’s latest unfunny movie? 

At one time, I wanted to be the next Dooce.  Now, I’m deleting half of my followers from Twitter and Flickr.  It’s not you.  It’s me.  I’m a Pisces.  Astrology books say that I am a sensitive soul who can only deal with two or three close friends.  It’s not that I don’t care.  I actually DO care what type of sandwich you had for lunch.

How do you people read so many blog posts in one day?  I read some tech blogger bragging about being able to read 100 posts daily in his Google Reader.   Is he a robot?  I read two or three decent posts, and I’m drained.

I understand that there is a social dynamic to blogging.  Everyone wants to be loved and admired, but let’s be honest — most of us would be plain miserable being an A-list blogger.  Yes, I think for the first time in my blogging career, I actually feel sympathy for Dooce.  It must be hard to deal with 1000 commenters, and strangers thinking they “love” you.   I never want to hear any ONE of you ever saying that you “love” me, unless, of course, we first have sex, then it is a given.  You might like me.  You might find my jokes mildly amusing.  But EVEN I’m not sure I love myself!  Love Dooce instead.

I sometimes find it difficult to deal with getting thirty comments a day.  I mean I like the comments, but I also know that YOU are writers, too, and you deserve love and attention, so I feel like a jerk if I don’t immediately go to your blog and write a comment back.   I know I sound like an asshole complaining when you’re a blogger who only getting two comments, but who’s to say that it is better to have thirty comments than two comments?  Is it better to sleep around with strangers in bars every night or have one loving wife at home waiting for you?   If I ran the blogosphere, I would limit comments to thirty maximum per post. That is enough to stroke any ego.  OK, I’m going to be RADICAL here.  If you see that I already have thirty comments, do everyone a favor and go put a comment on a blog with less comments.  You can always send me an email or a message on Twitter later telling me that you liked the post.  Or just send me a photo of your bra.

Do any really BIG bloggers read Citizen of the Month?  I mean YOU Dooce, Pioneer Woman, Stephanie Klein, etc. (no, not you Bloggess… not yet)?  Does anyone know them personally?  I would love to talk to you — even interview you for this blog.  I wouldn’t ask you about writing or your blog.  I would be curious on how you deal emotionally with other bloggers?  How difficult is it?  Does it drain your energy?  Why do you even continue when you could be writing in other venues?  And most importantly… do any of us really want to follow in your footsteps?  Or is that what success is all about — having to deal with a lot of strangers?

These are all selfish questions.  Maybe I’m not emotionally fit to be an A-lister, even if my writing got to that level.  I sort of like being the bohemian, spouting socialist slogans like “everyone is interesting” and not caring about anyone’s reaction when I inappropriately flirt with some hot mommyblogger.

“Oh, that’s just Neilochka!  He’s harmless.  He’s not an A-lister or anything like that.”

Of course, I would be bullshitting you if I said I didn’t care about success.   It would be cool to make a great living through wriitng.  It would be fun to give a keynote address at some blogging conference, the audience oohing and aahing to my every word.  Of course, I would quickly run out afterwards so I wouldn’t have to talk to any of you. 

And talk about opportunities for getting laid!

But then, sometimes, I think about going small with this blog… or starting all over again, like the first “real writer” I got to know online.   I could then focus more on my writing than worrying about all this nonsense.  But why in the world would I do that?   If I wanted fewer readers, I could just do it the old-fashioned way — by publishing poetry!

Ha Ha.  I can just see the faces of some of you.  Oh no!  He’s going to publish some poetry!

Luckily, I didn’t write it myself.  Dana started something called the Poetry Collaborative.  Under this system, two people write a poem together via email or IM.  It’s more of an experiment than anything else, because we took turns writing lines.  My victim/collaborator was the talented Christine Swint of Maria Cristina Poesia.

Here is our poem… wait, let me give some of you the chance to click over to a better blog… OK, for those left behind —

when clouds cover the moon

by Neil and Christine

My hands are orchids,
but in anger they provoke

violet bruises. Livid
birds screech in a dovecote,

wings beating against bamboo.
Their black judgment must abide,

suspended in time, like an ant in amber
or Papa when he’s high–

his gnarled hands turn a crank
that voice! that voice! it’s mine–

not a magpie’s, nor a mountebank’s,
piercing the nighttime.

I wish for whispers, willows,
a sunrise tomorrow.

Neilochka’s Return: I Am a Blogging Rockstar

August 10, 2008 / / 52 Comments

Today was the Jewish holiday of Tisha B’Av.  It isn’t a holiday that most American Jews celebrate, probably because it is the saddest holiday of the Jewish calendar, and it occurs in the middle of the summer when the sun is shining and the beaches are open.   Jews have never been good at scheduling.

It is a day of fasting, one of mourning for the destruction of the first and second temples in Jerusalem, as well as all the awful things that have befallen the Jewish people.  And there are a lot of them.  The Book of Lamentations is read in temple.   In Sephardic communities, it is customary to read the Book of Job.

At first, I forgot it was Tisha B’Av.  That is, until I took a walk to Main Street to get a bagel, and discovered that the kosher bagel store closed.  This section of Main Street has a sizeable Orthodox population.  I immediately noticed a group of Orthodox men, looking somber in their black coats, walking to temple.  They passed the public library.  In front of the library were laughing kids playing “tag.”  They were shouting and chasing after each other, the energy of childhood in the air.

“You’re it!  You’re it.” one kid screamed and laughed.

It was quite a contrast — the somber men in black hats on the saddest day of the Jewish calendar and the joyous, wild children playing their game.

Online, my virtual life occurs at breakneck speeds, much faster than the ones I notice on Main Street.  It is impossible for me to see contrasts that rush by on my monitor.  My brain cannot work that fast.  On Twitter, I follow “friends,” each reporting on their fast-paced lives in a chaotic mess of the sublime and the repetitive. 

Last week, a blogger “twittered” that his sister had just died.  A few responded with condolences, but within seconds, a new thread was growing on the subject of “Do You Think You Can Dance?”  In a nanosecond, we all switched gears, onto the new topic, and the death of this woman was knocked off the page, into the unseen digital archives.

Unlike the visual contrast of the mourning Orthodox Jews and the playing kids, both human beings expressing the flip sides of  daily life — sad and happy — there is little to grab onto in a virtual world.  There are just bits of information, equally important and equally irrelevant.

When I see the rate of data flow online, it occurs to me that one day, my final moments will be announced on Twitter, and it will last about ten seconds before the subject matter is changed.  That’s a depressing thought.  Am I so inconsequential, another minor subject equal in value to someone’s lunch or the latest category on Alltop?

Megan of the Velveteen Mind wrote an interesting post last week about “blogging rockstars.”  She suggests that this is a silly concept — we are all regular folk, writing in our underwear, from Dooce to the newbie.  I’d like to approach this subject in another way.  Rather than dragging the Dooces of the world to the level of the guy in his underwear eating Cheerios from the box, why not say everyone has potential rockstar talent just like Dooce?   I know, it sounds like bullshit, but isn’t that the point of the whole bloggers’ interview experiment?   If you end up being a blip on Twitter as your final moments scroll off the page — and it will happen that way — why not make believe that you are a rockstar while you are here? 

I am a rockstar.  I don’t need anyone to tell me that I am.  I write.  Perfect.  I wouldn’t be able to write a word if I didn’t think — deep in my heart — that I had something special to say.  Why bother writing then?  I could be jumping rope or watching porn!  So, instead, I write this blog, making believe that I am a blogging rockstar.   And if you tell me that you’re a rockstar, I will think of you as one, too.

Friday

June 5, 2008 / / 37 Comments

I apologize about the last two self-indulgent posts.  But I like them.  You have to remember, before I met Sophia, I was just some dorky guy who collected international postage stamps.  Sophia taught me not to wear white socks with shoes.  I taught her important TV trivia, such as how Vivian Vance and William Frawley didn’t get along very well during the taping of “I Love Lucy.”  

Most importantly, women were demystified.  I saw one buying a bra, having a period, kvetching over the wrong brand of Rocky Road ice cream.  “Dreyers, not Breyers!”  And I finally learned where my hands were supposed to go. 

Then I started blogging and interacting with hot women from around the world.  Is it really a surprise that every other post is about sex?   I’m sorry.  What can I do?   If I just write stories, my blog is well-written, but superficial.  But if I really dig down deep and write about what is weighing on my mind — oral sex — then, where is this post going…?

I think I’m ready to be re-introduced to the world.

Remember, this blog is about my mind.  It is akin to therapy.  I like Neilochka.   I want to integrate this more interesting version of myself into reality.   This Neilochka takes off his shirt on blog posts and makes women scream with pleasure.   This is NOT the Neil who is afraid of putting advertising on his blog because then “people won’t like him.” 

This Neilochka has confidence.  He says what he thinks.   So, if I haven’t been commenting on your blog lately, I’m not going to lie anymore and say I’ve been busy… boo hoo.  It’s because your blog is BORING AS HELL and I get more bang for my buck by commenting on some big-name blogger or some chick who might give me some! 

(You know that I’m only joking, right?  I love you.  Especially my male readers.  You know where I’m coming from, right?  I’m going to comment right now.  Twice.   Don’t hate me.  Ever.  I was just trying to be funny) 

Damn.  I’m never going to change.  Luckily, my therapist, Brenda, gave me her phone number so I can call her from New York.

We Built This City, Part 3

May 20, 2008 / / 52 Comments

And the winner for the best description of the meaning behind Starship’s “We Built This City” is — the beautiful Memarie Lane — with this gem:

I think I’ve got it. They’re alluding to the founding of our country, the philosophies of which (freedom of religion and speech and all that)were considered very radical (i.e. rock and roll) at the time. But since then we keep rolling farther and farther back,through soft rock and disco and Motown and so on until “we just lost the beat.”  So basically they’re saying we need to vote for Ron Paul.

As I mentioned two posts ago, she wins nothing.  No Wii Fit.  Nothing other than my gratitude and me wondering what she looks like naked.

As you have probably guessed by now, this post is really about nothing.  I’m writing it very quickly, in between my morning shower and breakfast.  Since it is a toss-off post, it gives me a chance to show you the “real” Neilochka, who can be a bit of an asshole.  Most of the time, I try to be “literary” in my posts, making sure there is a intellectual point.  I usually write my posts out in longhand first in a notebook.  Today, I am just spitting out crap right onto WordPress.  And it feels pretty good.  Perhaps it was my therapy session yesterday that helped open me up to new possibilites.  Why do I need to worry about you — the reader — so much?  I’m not “dependent” on you.   What is the worst thing that can happen if you think my blog sucks?  You’ll stop reading it.  Will I die?  I doubt it.  There are plenty of you who once read this blog and have moved elsewhere.  Maybe you’re trying to move into the elite mommyblogger’s circle and have no time for the men.  Perhaps you were insulted by my post where I portrayed Archie and Jughead into violent superheroes.  You might be a new reader who wrote a comment, and then I never responded to you… and was disgusted at me.  I apologize.  I feel the same way as you when I comment and the person doesn’t respond.

“What’s wrong with her?” I wonder.  “Am I not good enough?  What a snob she is!  Blogging is so elitist!”

Well, we do things differently here.  If I don’t respond to you right away, don’t take it personally.  I love you.  It’s not YOU.  I’m the one who’s f**ked up!  That’s right.  That’s exactly what I was thinking while sitting in therapy with Brenda yesterday.  I’m f**ked up!  How long have I been writing about MOVING — yet I never move?  Why do I have such a weird on-again/off-again relationship with this “separated” wife?  The only honest answer is that I’m… f**ked-up.  Ta-dah.  There I said it.  Now I can work on the solution.

Let me make the announcement here.  If Sophia and I split up “officially,” I don’t want any of you sleeping with me for at least six months.  No matter how hard I try to get into your pants at BlogHer, just say NO.  I am NOT ready for it.  Don’t get suckered into it when I say that your eyes are like God’s soul, and shit like that.

Besides, I’ve been with one woman for eleven years.  The first time with someone else WILL be bad.  And over very fast.   And I will be crying.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

OK, back to blog comments —

So, if you write a witty comment on the blog, and it looks like I’m blowing you off, now you know the reason.  I’m f**ked up.   Just keep commenting, because it makes me feel good — and that is a public health service.  Besides, a lot of cool people who come here.   You should read their blogs.

Granted, there are funnier and more popular blogs where you will make more connections — such as Bossy — but I compensate by being advertising free.   And I don’t make you put those dumb badges on your blogs.

Also, since I am a bit emotional unstable, you never know what I’m going to do next.  So, I’m not boring.

For example — only a real nutcase would write three posts in a row about Starship’s “We Built This City.”  Most bloggers would be all worried about losing their readers and people hating him.

But  — I DON’T CARE.  I’m crazy like that!  I’ve been laughing for the last ten minutes because I’m now going to put up ANOTHER version of the song — the third in a row!  Ha ha ha ha.  You see, I’m not THAT nice!  I have a bit of a mean streak!  But I find it soooo funny, like the inner child I am.

And that’s what blogging is really about, isn’t it?!

Just Thinking About Writing

May 1, 2008 / / 45 Comments

I’m a bit constricted by my blog at times.  I look around and see that most of the well-known personal blogs revolve around that blogger’s day-to-day life.   I know that is obvious.  I’m just noting that these writers rarely deviate from their theme.  They use their blog as a journal or diary.  These bloggers let you into their world, warts and all, until you feel as if you know their family — and you care about them.  The best of these blogs, like Dooce, are  well-written and honest. 

I’ve never kept a diary.  It always seemed boring to me.  And I sometimes have trouble being honest.  I’m not a liar.  Well, I am.  I don’t only lie to you.  I lie to myself.  That’s why I’m in therapy.  So, in a way, my lying to you is being very honest.  Get it?

I try to write about reality.  Most everything in this blog, including my conversations with my Penis, is rooted in reality.  I find it interesting that my favorite posts are almost never YOUR favorite posts.  You seem to love when I write in an honest, diary style.   You feel as if I connected with you because I revealed some private truth.   It’s as if personal blogging is supposed to be the private become public, and dammit – he won me over with the admission that his mother washed his mouth out with soap.  It doesn’t really matter that I spent twice as long crafting something really silly.  The comedy never wins the Oscar.

Even if I were completely fact-based about my day to day life, I’m not sure I can effectively capture “me” through the details.  What actually happened today — May 1, 2008?  Sophia got a flat tire on the freeway and I came to her rescue.  I bought a new tire for her car and had a cup of coffee in Denny’s.  I arranged to meet with a producer.  I spoke to my mother.  This is all fun stuff, but most of the REALLY interesting events occurred in my head.  I got annoyed about “blog badges” and wrote my last sarcastic post.  I went on Craig’s List and wondered about apartment hunting.  I wondered how Carly from American Idol was managing.  I made a note to write a post someday about Brian Dunkleman (remember him — the comedian who co-hosted American Idol with Ryan Seacrest in season one!). I wonder if he is still pissed or if he was able to move on to a happy life.  I worried about this headache that I’ve had for three days, and tried not to become a hypochondriac, fearing it is a tumor or something horrible.

Am I  presenting a clear picture of my personality, and does it even matter?  I had an IM conversation with someone last week who seemed to be under the impression that I was some sort of Lothario having sex chats with women in every American city.  When do I have time?!   Truthfully, online sex chats would be too difficult for me because I would feel obligated, as a writer, not to be cliched.  How many unique ways are there to say, “So, are you unbuttoning your blouse now?”

Me:  “My hand is touching you…”

Her:  “Here?”

Me:  “Yes, there… but that’s not very descriptive.  Let me go on Wikipedia and look up what it is actually called in the  English language.   Also, I already used “touching you” twice already.  There must be some other way of saying that!”

Her:  “OK, enough.  I had my orgasm.  Thanks.  Bye.”

 I would feel too much literary performance anxiety to have any fun. 

I present myself as a nice Jewish boy who’s calling his mother every day, and then the next day I’m f**king four women in my bedroom.  Who am I?   I’m not sure I really know exactly who I am, so why should you?

But let me just stick to the blog — my writing.  Would be better to focus more on the reality in my life, or continue writing whatever shit comes to my mind?  The inconsistency of this blog’s tone must be very frustrating for some readers. 

I can also go the other way — not caring about you, the reader, at all.   That could be refreshing.  That would probably be the most honest approach.   I could explore different facets of my personality.  I could write a post like I was a woman.  I’d like to imagine what it would be like to give birth.  Would that be weird for you?  I’d like to be racist or nasty and say things that I don’t really believe, but not worry about your reaction. Why do I always have to write about what I believe?  It might be more fun to write about someone else’s beliefs. 

I’d like to finish a post without having to make the ending work.

Therapy is Making Me into a Humorless Twit

March 26, 2008 / / 91 Comments

I have to keep the eye on the prize, which is to express myself honestly and openly on my blog, have fun, and not take it too seriously.   I need to be grateful for all the cool people who stop by this blog, and treat everyone as worthy individuals with an innate need to express their ideas and personality.   I need to not take people for granted.   I need to comment and read your blogs as consistently as you do mine.   I need to accept the fact that I have lost touch with some bloggers, and it is OK to feel a little sad about it.  I need to be open about all blogging opportunities that I hear about, so they can be available to as many as possible.  I shouldn’t be afraid of thinking of this blog as the best blog in the world simply because I write it, just as your blog should be YOUR best blog in the world, and I should acknowledge that when I come to visit.   I need to respect other writers for the quality of their work and the openness of their spirit, whether they are writing exquisite poetry or stupid gags, both which have an important role to play in society.   I need to remember that a good blog doesn’t necessarily make them a caring person, and that an amazing individual might not be able to put down in words everything that is in his or her heart.  I need to acknowledge that the blogosphere can be as cliquish as high school, and that I should accept it, ignore it, and mock it for comic effect.   I hope that I will be made fun of by others when I am hypocritical.  I need to be wary of marketers or all types, those trying to sell me products and ideas that are more for their benefit than my own, even if there is a short-lived profit for me or my blog.   I should always weigh the benefits to myself with the effects on others.  I need to remember that modern man has ADD, and will constantly be talking about “what’s new” and “what’s hot,” forgetting that telling stories and chatting about nothing has been going on since we lived in caves, way  before the arrival of Twitter and Facebook.   I need to dig deeper than the surface and understand that despite all the talk about “branding” and “linking” and “A-listers,” the blogosphere is mostly about imperfect humans looking for affection, love, and connection in a somewhat lonely and isolating world.

Sideshow

February 19, 2008 / / 97 Comments

sideshow2.jpg 

Ever since I was a teenager, I listened to music when I was feeling down.  Remember my obsession with ABBA a few months ago?   Sometimes, I’m in the mood for some hard rock to lift me out of the doldrums, and sometimes I just look for the most depressing song possible in order to feel MORE miserable.  Once you hit bottom, you can laugh, and start your way up the ladder again.

Do any of you have any really depressing songs that you just LOVE?  Songs about broken hearts, suicides, and cars going off the edges of mountains? 

For my money, this old song (Blue Magic’s Side Show (1974)) is one of the saddest love songs I’ve ever heard.  It also makes me think about how we post about our lives on blogs for others to read — like a sideshow.   Read the downer lyrics!  

Hurry, hurry, step right up
See the side show in town for only fifty cents

Step right up hurry, hurry, before the show begins, my friends
Stand in line, get your ticket, I hope you will attend
It’ll only cost you fifty cents to see
What life has done to those like you and me

See the man with the broken heart, you’ll see that he is sad, he hurts so bad (so bad, so bad)
See the girl who has lost the only love she ever had
There’s got to be no sadder show to see
No doubt about it, satisfaction’s guaranteed

So let the sideshow begin
Hurry, hurry, step right up on in
Can’t afford to pass it by
Guaranteed to make you cry

Let the sideshow begin (hurry, hurry)
Hurry, hurry, step right on in
Can’t afford to pass it by
Guaranteed to make you cry

See the man who’s been cryin’ for a million years, so many tears (so many tears)
See the girl who’s collected broken hearts for souvenirs
It’s more exciting than a one man band
The saddest little show in all the land

So let the side show begin (hurry, hurry)
Hurry, hurry, step right up on in
Can’t afford to pass it by
Guaranteed to make you cry

Let the sideshow begin
Hurry, hurry, step right on in
Can’t afford to pass it by
Guaranteed to make you cry

So let the sideshow begin (hurry, hurry)
Hurry, hurry, step right on in
Can’t afford to pass it by
Guaranteed to make you cry

Fortunately, after I listened to the song a few times, it made me laugh hysterically.  Who the hell sits down and writes such a depressing song?! 

Remember to vote for me for “The Best Humor Blog” in the Blogger Awards!

Will We Reach 300 Interviews?

February 3, 2008 / / 12 Comments

three_hundred.jpg 

I hate to make this blog ALL Interviews ALL the time, especially when I just put up such a fabulous post of passive-aggressive spam poetry, but I have been getting quite a few questions via email about the Great Interview Experiment.  I was going to just email everyone involved, but I figured just writing a post was easier.  So, let me make just one last public announcement.  Don’t think of this as a real post, but as a informational one.   (hey, it’s like my first ad!)   I’d like to keep the blog focused on the usual nonsense.   Sophia, my Talking Penis, my mother, my therapist, and the other usual blog characters are getting jealous.

That said, I hope you’re getting to read some of the interviews.   If I forget to add you to the “completed” list, just tell me.  I have a feeling that the one person getting the most out of this is … ME.  I love being introduced to new people and learning more about old friends.   I even emailed a few of you telling her how much closer I felt to you after learning more about your life.  I’ve been “blogging” with some of you for the longest time, and was always too shy to ask you about basic biographical stuff!   Now, I have someone else doing the dirty work.

If you forget who you are supposed to interview, I keep on updating the list.  I know a few of you have to drop out because of time constraints (or giving birth!).  Please email me (at neilochka at yahoo) or just contact the other two people in your interview “chain.”   If you are stuck without an interviewer or interviewee, or if they haven’t gotten back to you within a week, email me and I’ll give you new partners.  If there are some of you who would like to INTERVIEW someone, but not be interviewed yourself, please email me or comment, because we will probably need a few pitch-hitters.  Remember, I can just keep the interview process going, so you can always join up at some future time.

I hope everyone is having fun, and feeling like you are part of a community (even if it is a community of self-obsessed ego-maniacal nudniks who love themselves too much)

To join the Great Interview Experiment, sign up in the comments of the original post, not here.  Thanks.

Rambling Post to Scare Off New Readers

January 31, 2008 / / 65 Comments

Sophia had a little “discussion” with me this morning about my constant pooh-poohing of advertising, calling it immature.  “We could always use another hundred dollars to help pay for something like our over-priced health insurance.  It’s not like we’re wealthy people who would refuse money.”  She made me feel a bit ashamed for being such a stickler, like I’m a pampered baby.   I should talk to my therapist about this.  I think this advertising issue reflects on other parts of my life where I fear “selling out,” — where I would rather feel good about my superiority than actually make good money for the family.

Does anyone really think less of Dooce for having ads?  Of course, adding ads to blogs undercuts the whole equality of the blogosphere in my mind.  But the box has already been open for a long time.  And who really cares?  Isn’t each of us here to grab as much as he can get for his family, so they can live the best possible life?  Maybe the whole premise of this Great Interview Experiment is a farce.  Maybe we’re not all somebodys.  If I can make more money than the next guy, I can be a “bigger” somebody!  Isn’t that how most of  people think, anyway?   There is always someone more of a somebody than me!  I shouldn’t be saying we are all somebodies.  Why create a myth?  I should be telling you that I am BETTER than you.  Then you will look towards me for advice, and maybe even pay me one day for the book I will write, giving you more advice.  I should ask people to vote for me as the Best Blogitizer!  I could promote myself and make more money on the blog.  Is that what all these Problogger websites advise us to do?  Isn’t Blogher partly about learning how to monetize your blog?  I’m wondering if other bloggers will actually LIKE me and RESPECT me MORE if I told them that I just bought a new car off of the earnings from my blog?  A hybrid, of course, just to impress the eco-babes.

Anyway, just rambling.

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