I’m struggling with how to keep this blog exciting. The No Room for Hipsters thing has been going on nearly four years now. I don’t even know where the hipsters are anymore, or what they are doing. I think, actually, I can only name two of them.
I used to watch our blog stats everyday. It gave me a sort of progress report on my success as a person. Then I stopped looking on Sundays. Now I know that blog readers will double when Ashley decorates for a wedding or if we post something about parenting. These are blog categories with constituencies. Construction isn’t, really. You don’t walk up to the counter at the paint store and hear that someone liked your blog post this morning. No, you hear that the new breakfast sandwich at Hardees is the sh#t.
For a while we blogged like it was our job. Emphasis on “like.” We’re no longer planning any runs down to Mexico, and we’re not going to sell our possessions and move to Manhattan. We’re also not selling much work these days or keeping the calendar full of gigs and showings. The blog is just for fun.
All this time I thought I was a bad business person. I’m not, it’s just that art is a bad business for yourself if you’re an artist. I’ve learned to pick a business if you want to be in business. If it can be both, fine. You won’t see me painting condo units, ever. Give me a maintenance heavy craftsman house built like a riddle and ready for love.
Some of our most glorious failures are chronicled in this blog. As are the sweetest adventures. I have about 15 volumes of journals that ended the day I started blogging after an eventful series of desk jobs in Finance which derailed in January, 2009. The honesty here has been enough.
We’ve tried a lot of ways to manage ourselves as artists. I can preach the buzzwords. Blogging is developing a platform. It’s branding yourself. I used to keep up with analytics and read Michael Hyatt’s blog. It wore me out and I unsubscribed. By now our online banter on a variety of subjects ranks high on search engines. Like the Knoxville Fellini Kroger, for instance. We will be your third Google selection, first after the official news producers like Knoxnews.com and Knoxify. I’m proud of that, and I’ll tell my grandchildren one day.
“Bud, your grandpa once ate a rattlesnake on the Appalachian Trail. And then he got this very store put on Google.”
“Yep. Watch this, we can get from the frozen vegetable sausage to the cage free eggs in seven seconds. And the self checkout doesn’t even card me.”
Its harder to keep it artsy when you get older. Right now I’ve been thinking about how to manage my workers comp costs and the best way to list my subs for the year end liability audit. Other than that stuff, I’m a painter. And a good enough carpenter to slap paint on it. I can turn a green window red, stuff like that. I can also cut a line so sharp it will split dried caulk. I can make a cigar roller smoke and I eat rare steak with a 5 Way (a painter’s tool). We’ve done 158 gallons since May 1. I kicked one over in the grass one time, just because it was there (It was behind me).
Fellini Krogers got a recent remodel. It’s been fascinating, but now I can’t find anything. The new look is just a little too fancy. Truthfully I’ve been lost, and I feel misunderstood. I find myself walking back outside and looking down to the shopping center on the far end. Down to the Sav-a-Lot. I bet they got oranges there that are real bruisy. Like my old block in Harlem. I must getting older. Krogers has moved my beef jerky and I don’t like it. Who puts plastic cups across from the beer? It’s insulting. Red Solo Cup Toby Keith yuppy redneck dumasses.
All of this said, and I’m not sure what exactly, we’re glad you read if you do and when you do. We’ve been thinking about taking some more adventures. Maybe write a review on different paint scrapers. Maybe some refitting of my utility trailer into a travel camper. I also have a lot to say about why you can’t really have too many ladders.
For what it’s worth, I can go a whole day or two now and not look at our blog stats. My worth as a person comes from not dripping paint in my nose and whether or not I made some nice ladder moves. Then I come home and Ashley has written me a sweet note sometimes. My little man follows me with his eyes from the minute I’m in the room. On a Sunday morning I play from my songbook and the songs are getting sturdy. And if you Google the Knoxville Fellini Krogers, we will come up third.
This has been post 771. Thank you for coming.