Billion Dollar Idea

Here's what's so fantastic about the United States: a single, innovative idea can mean lifelong financial security. One day, someone fairly bright sat down and thought, "I'll bet pressurized steam could haul more cargo than any horse," or "screw candles, how about electrocuting a teeny bit of wire?" or "what if the information on every computer in the world could be shared... for free?"

Or, if your name happens to be Simon Cowell: "what would the World's Largest Talent Show look like if the winner walked home with $1 million and a record deal? I'll bet audiences might be interested if they were the ones voting on the outcome."

But, I don't know, hooray for Fantasia Barrino, the only American Idol contestant that didn't make me want to drive a rake into my face. You have to hand it to Fox (and Simon Cowell), though: they milked two whole hours out of the phrase "...and the winner is..." last night and, as I understand it, walked away with hundreds of millions in advertising dollars. Good $how, American Idol.

And it got me thinkin'. One Big Idea. That's really all it takes. One Billion Dollar Idea. Is there a thought in my head that's worth a billion? I kind of doubt it, but I'll work on it.

(I asked a coworker the same question and he said "absolutely! I've had this idea for awhile: what about really, really small potato chips, no bigger than quarters? Except they're square-shaped and their packaging has all this high-tech, circuit boardish, computer-looking, designy stuff on it. I'd call them Micro-Chips! People would buy them like crazy because they'll think it's healthier to eat a smaller potato chip! It can't miss!"

"Jeez, Chad," I told him, "that's actually pretty good.")
...


So, I have a Solitaire game on my cellphone. It must be a particularly hard version of Solitaire because I've only managed to beat it twice.

As a bit of a bonus, the game rewards the winner by promptly cutting off all power to the phone.

("You've Won!"

* FZZT *)
...


I've been keeping this blog for nearly two years and, frankly, no one is more amazed than I am that I've managed to hang with it. I'm not exactly famous for sticking to many of my long-term creative endeavors, but for some reason I've persevered.

Yeah, it's geeky and more than a little narcissistic, but publishing my life's minutiae into the ether has been one of the most gratifying experiences of my life. Sad, I guess, but it's terribly satisfying to know that I've kept at it and that people are reading from time to time.

So, thanks. It makes me really happy to know that you care enough to tune in.

By the way, odd as it may sound, I have lost a good bit of sleep over this thing over the past couple of years. I think some, family in particular, are under the impression that I give little thought to who I'm embarrassing or offending or how much character and integrity I demonstrate to the world. The fact is, many (most probably) of the people I love and respect live thousands of miles away and this little journal is my primary communication with them.

When I was first starting out with this lil' Blogger, I can remember being a little nervous about which 'me' I should portray. I soon realized that I simply wouldn't have the stamina to continue pumping out entries unless I committed myself to baring everything, warts and all. From family news to career hurdles to metaphysical meanderings to comic book recommendations, I decided to be painfully, annoyingly authentic. I'm not a joyful person. I'm not an angry person. I'm a joyful, angry, excited, scared, eager, confident, insecure, shallow, thoughtful, rude, empathetic, sorrowful, elated person. And I think that's the person I portray.

Speaking frankly here, I am embarrassed and ashamed of some of the content. Even with an audience as meager as mine, I've been asked to remove certain entries or, at the very least, edit them. In some cases I've done it, but not usually. I know how obnoxious I sound and I know that swearing can be vile and offensive. For what it's worth, I do a bit of self-censoring. But I just don't have any interest in keeping my thoughts or experiences rated G. And anyway, I've expressed some of my self-censoring concerns to other, less conservative friends who've said, "I dunno, dude. You're pretty tame. I wouldn't sweat it." So who's to say?

Okay, enough with all that. Cripes, what a load of self-serving tripe! At last count, I've typed roughly 120,000 words into this cursed thing. Nearly 170 entries. Who'd have thought I'd have this much to jabber about?