I hate blogging. And I dont want to blog.

No I want to blog and blogs are really hip and cool and so I want to be a hip and cool blogger.

No I hate blogs and I hate bloggers even more.

Wait I dont hate them. I just hate it when people blog about what they had for lunch and all the other inane crap that they go through each day. Seriously? The internet for what you had for lunch or who you met at the dog park? I dont think so. An entire culture of SAR (self-adsorbed-rubbish).

So when the Amazing Maestro McCormick asked me about blogging for TurfNet, I wanted to write an email that looked something like this:

But like a lot of you, I had more than one Guinness at the 2010 Beer and Pretzels Gala and Turfhead Windshirt Ball and well, the idea seemed to get into my nostrils and then Peter had his wife be really nice to me and then Bastis and Bower hugged me in their non-gay way and Kosak told me he sent me an email I never got about how I should write more and Husting gave me another non-gay hug and Ross flipped me off from across the room and then non-gay way hugged me and told me that I need to write more and well it went on and on. I am sure it was all a cooked up conspiracy to stroke my giant ego and get me to become what I hate. A blogger. A dirty stinking lunch describing taking up room at my Starbucks blogger.

The nightmare becomes reality. Now I have to think of something to write. Easy. Just like the Julie/Julia chick, Ill get a famous turfgrass textbook and cook my way through it. If Dr. X says Fescue, Ill plant some in the neighbors yard and blog about how he called Lawn Doctor to fix his weeds. If Dr. Y says Soil Textural Triangle, Ill blog about how I went to the local Starbucks and entertained the regulars by chalk drawing sandy clay loam on the sidewalk as they enjoy their delicious coffee. And the perfect moment will come the movie deal already in the works, when I get to the back of the book and build a USGA Green at Home Depot entirely out of lightbulbs and other indoor building materials. Please. Shoot. Me. Now.

Peter McCormick is one of those people. You have to love him. Just like I love Springsteen and the Cake Boss and Joel Simmons and John Chassard and all the other famous Jersey folks, Peter (although no longer a Jersey Boy) is to be loved and the way he looked at me (in a non-gay way) and expressed excitement about my returning to TurfNet as a blogger well it was better than Clint Eastwood singing in Paint Your Wagon

I can just hear Clint (Peter) nowI was booooorrrn under a wandering star. I was boooooorrrn under a wandering star. Like oil for water, Peter was crooning to me and well.I just had to say,  Yes. I guess I just asked myselfDo I Feel Lucky?well Do I, Boy?

Listen seriously. Im honored. Im sure that blogging for TurfNet will be a glorious thing for me and since it should be all about me, the glory is all mine. Not really. Anyone who has ever written an opinion column knows that you make yourself a bit of a target by being brave enough to write what your beliefs support. But more than that, Id like to think that maybe, just maybe my love for Words and my love for Turf  and my love for All of You (even you, Coldiron), will push me into taking this seriously while still having a heck of a lot of fun. Theres no question that Im my own worst critic, so if you say mean things it wont matter Im sure Ill have already said it. And if you say nice things, well, then Ill contribute to the beautification of the world at Starbucks with my smile.

For this to be good, I might cut a little deep, strike a little close to home or maybe just be the guy who convinces Chief to pick up that water control thing in the shower and throw it out the window.

I dont think I can do this without having some passion. I dont think Im funny enough to be Randy Wilson. But I know Im not starched stiff in my AOG Blazer. Our time, right now, is a bit of a crisis. Its a time when our crazy business is threatened in ways we never thought of. And our individual lives are also in various stages of flying over the Cuckoos Nest. I might open some eyes by the things that open mine. And we might all have to dig in to the trenches and ducktogether. I think thats why Peter started TurfNetso we Turfheads could do stufftogether.

Zeal. Its the first part of being a Zealot. I dont know much about blogging and I dont want to be caught dead using words like Blogsphere or referring to you all as My Readers . I cant contain my Zeal and I cant think of a better place to uncork my insanity than TurfNet.

Thanks for reading. Hold on tight.