Aside from the Asides

Predator Press

[LOBO]

I was just made aware that my Mother-in-Law skims this blog.

I think this is really cool; she’s one of my fave people on Earth. I’m not going to gush, but she’s top notch as far as I’m concerned: in the past few months alone she has rescued us on flatly numerous occasions. I couldn't possibly put my gratitude into words, and her bond with my son is largely what drew me here in the first place.

But Terri recently informed me that she gets mad when I pick on the family.

-And maybe she’s right frankly.

I’m a little torn here. 99.999999% of Predator Press readers don’t know a thing about who, what, and where we are. 99.999998 readers don’t care. And whatever that infinitesimal percent that remains (I’m not breaking out a calculator pal. You want the answer? You start doin’ some mathematics around here) are people we already know anyway … mostly out-of-state old friends.

But what if suddenly there’s a demand for juicy, juicy personal info -like a huge media exposé, and tabloids like National Enquirer start hiding behind the bushes to capture an image of me and my Mother-in-Law?

I gotta tell you, I’m not seeing a downside here. More importantly, I’m not seeing a plausible circumstance for it (although I am open to suggestions). Okay sure. Ummm, Matthew Broderick gets a flat tire, and while I’m helping him change it I discover Heath Ledger’s corpse in the trunk.

But see how crazy that sounds? I would never help anyone change a flat tire … that’s a lot of work! Mathew Broderick will probably drive around for years before somebody discovers that corpse.

The second theorem on self-stardom would be getting on some kind of reality show, like a blogger version of Survivor or something -“I’m a Blogger Get Me Out of Here” has a nice ring to it, but I’m just spitballing. The last episode is of me revealing to the judges that I had a catheter implanted, and there’s a lot of global controversy.

-Man I hope that doesn’t happen; it’s hard to run like a sissy when you’ve got a catheter.

Unlike the others, my third and last theory of how I would rocket to Brad Pitt-level media scrutiny is probably a little far-fetched.

Picture: Somehow terrorists successfully destroy 95% of our satellites. This utterly cripples cellphones and the internet worldwide, save for the patchy access as the remaining satellites –still broadcasting- continue to orbit.

(Actually, all those people are going to die because the debris from these satellites causes Nuclear Winter. I really don’t know why I developed a backstory for them.)

Okay. So one million years in the future, microbes evolve aaaaaaall the way back to humans and accidentally pick up a signal from that one last still operational satellite. And this still-operating last satellite, for reasons explainable only by good, hard science, transmits two things alone: Predator Press and YouTubes of Welcome Back Kotter reruns.

Sure Welcome Back Kotter would have a new renaissance. But after a few hundred more years people inevitably will start to wonder not only what that Predator Press guy was talking about, but who his Mother-in-Law was.

-I’m the first to admit this could happen.

And that’s why I’m going to end this post, “I love you Mom!”

:)