I don't know. If I knew why, I'd tell you.

After reading my last blog my wife asked, "Why do people in your family feel the need to say what they are thinking?" I don't know. If I knew why, I'd tell you.

First of all, I'm aware that not many people will ever read what I've written. (When Abraham Lincoln said, "people will little note nor long remember what we say here" he was definitely wrong. But I don't believe that I am.) And of those who will read this, no one will really care. I only write words, and people are surrounded by words, too many to take in or care about. It's only words. Who cares.

I do.

I write because I have something I want to say. After I've said it, I can move on to the next thing. But until I've said it, I'm stuck with it running around in my soul, like the tag line from a 1970's disco hit. (Staying alive, staying alive. Ah ah ah ah staying alive.) You know.

There is the minuscule chance that someone might read this, and after reading say, "Yeah! Me too! That says what I've been thinking." And then there would be a cosmic meeting of the minds. And maybe he would leave a comment. Or perhaps someone would read this and think, "Wow, I've never considered that before. I can see how that might be true." Then there would be a seed planted that might blossom into an idea or even a policy later on.

Either way, my long-suffering wife would be right in saying that I feel the need to say what I'm thinking. Just like I feel the need to ride my bicycle (which she doesn't understand either). Both are two of the things which fully express who I am on this planet. Another is the music I play. Perhaps another might be the books I choose to read (and in some cases collect). Or the pictures I take and post online. All of these and more are the ways that I say, "I AM HERE!".

You might be much more mature than me and do not need these things. Perhaps you are content to live and die in near silence. Good. There will be one less voice competing with mine in the universe. And if you are happiest at home, then there will be one less vehicle competing with me for space on the roadways. (You see, we all CAN get along if we try.)

As for why I am like I am? I don't know. If I knew why, I'd tell you.