This is me talking about myself.

I admire those blogs that have specific topics, like Yorkshire terriers or gluten-free cooking or toe-socks. I'm jealous of people who can focus themselves down to such a fine point. They are mankind's magnifying glasses. They're focusing the sunlight of their being onto one interesting, yet insignificant, detail and someday all of those Yorkies and gluten-free brownies and toe-socks are going to burst into flames from all of that focused energy.

Not to be morbid or anything (Lord knows I wouldn't want THAT), but I just pictured a large field filled with Yorkies spontaneously bursting into flames and it made me feel kind fuzzy inside. Who needs toe-socks?

Anyway, I typically can't concentrate on one thing long enough to write a blog entry on a single topic of any reasonable length, let alone dedicate my entire blog to said topic. Wait, let me re-read that and see if it makes sense... Well, it makes sense to me, but I'm... special.

I don't want to write a blog about my kids. I love my kids to death and I could go on and on about how great they are, but I have a need to be cynical and rude about things once in a while. I'd like to be cynical and rude about something other than my kids, so my blog CAN'T be about my kids. Or my wife. Or God. Or socks of any degree of sickening cuteness. The last thing I need is a bunch of angry, blog-reading knitters pounding down my door.

If this blog is going to be about something, it has to be about something with which I can find fault, but something which I can also appreciate.

I can think of two things that fit those specifications: Star Wars and myself.

I don't want to be Star Wars blogger-guy. I'm too old to be on the internet talking about Star Wars and NOT getting paid for it. Besides, I'm not the fan I once was. Don't let the Star Wars tattoo on my wrist fool you.

So, this blog has to be about me. Just me. Basically, it's a glorified Facebook status.

I don't think I'm being conceited. I think I'm being practical.

You know that gross old chair that kinda smells funny and doesn't recline like it's supposed to and your wife keeps telling you to get it out of the garage but you can't bring yourself to throw it out? You know that weird old man who lives down the street who sorts through everyone's garbage when he thinks no one is looking but never seems to have any garbage of his own? The chair and the old man... they kinda seem made for each other, don't they? And not because they both smell funny.

That's what this is. I'm the old man looking for something worthwhile and here sits this chair (also me) that no one really wants but won't throw out. They say write what you know. I don't know who "they" are, but that's what they say. Okay. I'll write what I know.

Hello, my name is Matt Beers and this is my blog.

And now, a haiku:

Matt Beers is trying
to justify writing a
blog about himself.

Thank you,
Matt Beers