Yearly Letter From Editor To Both Readers

My advice would be to stop reading right - now.

I see. You're one of those types, too good to take a little friendly advice. Very well, then please sit still and try not to breath as we welcome 2006 and say goodbye to 2005.

This whole mess started a year ago when I resolved to make one million dollars and attain washboard abs. And to write a blog about it. I did that for about... a week and I realized that I'm horrible at talking about myself. Blogs are mostly like Entertainment Tonight about non famous people. I just didn't feel like anyone really needed or wanted to know about my non adventures. Often I didn't want to know, but my efforts at self induced amnesia have only led to higher insurance premiums. So I stopped mentioning anything that had to do with me and started chronicling the things I observed around me, conversations, actions, all of which took place while I was trying to work, and most of which were more interesting than what I was working on. That drew the interest of someone named Gone Away and some of his pals. Their attention and comments are the only reason I bothered continuing to add to the site. The format got a little stale for me, and since then I've just sort of used it as a place to deposit nonsense, much to the chagrin of those who've bothered to stop by.

But, I digress. The real issue on this one year anniversary is the million dollars and the washboard abs. I'll be straight with you. The ads you see at the top of the page have earned me six dollars and some change, much of that probably through my own 'inadvertent' click fraud. Add that to my other writing income and I achieved .005206% of my goal. As for the abs, sometime around July they were visible under proper lighting conditions and if I was flexed and bent in just the right way. Suffice to say they are less so now.

Many people have resolutions that work out this way, and I can't tell you how often I hear people say things like, 'I don't make resolutions' or 'Resolutions are a waste of time', their reasoning being that these are all just promises that we're bound to break, and after a time there's really no point in even making such promises.

But once you start the whole 'there's no point in this because of that' game, well you might as well just find a nice place to lie down and wait for someone to cover your body. Is there really any point to anything? We're all going to die, etc. etc. So yes, there's a strong chance that this year may end up like last. There's a chance I won't live to the end of this year and whatever I resolve will seem ridiculous and insignificant in light of the horrible plane crash that ends up doing me in. And there's a chance that this time next year I won't have the energy or enthusiasm to make new promises. But here's the key. On this day last year I honestly believed I'd make a million dollars and get washboard abs. It sounded ridiculous, but if you haven't gathered as much, I'm an idiot. It bothers me that it didn't work out, but it would bother me a lot more if the fact that it didn't work out meant that I didn't really believe the promises I was going to make for this year. Luckily that hasn't happened.

This year I only want to achieve two things. I want to dunk a basketball and sell a novel. I should mention that I'm 5'11 and my novel may contain a beaver and Matt Lauer, so feel free to start making your own odds. It sounds pie in the sky, but for some reason I'm sold. Don't expect much in the way of updates for the reasons mentioned above, but do feel free to stick your head in, say hi, and gorge yourself on the letters and sentences which I will continue to arrange for your putative enjoyment.

Until 2007,

Mr. Kyle

p.s. am I the only one who finds it odd that the Blogger spell check does not recognize the word 'blog'?