Hiding In Plain Sight

I’m glad to see Paul Modic sign his name.

Paul Modic said: “What if even Ernie Branscomb decides to go troll for a minute, is that so bad?”

Like in what’s so bad about writing anonymously?

I was raised in a very cohesive family on an Old MacDonald family type farm in Laytonville with a loving father and mother. The words “I love you” were never uttered or heard. It was just understood.

My father dropped out of school in the 10th grade and went to work for various reasons. He was wise with the wisdom that comes with life’s difficulties. He was poorly educated, but smart. And, ultimately successful.

My mother was a gentle, but supportive person. She saved her ability to be emphatic for times of necessity. She completed high school as a “straight A” student.

I have an older sister who is sweet but she doesn’t know it. Her feelings were easily hurt. She stayed out of trouble and was also a “straight A” student.

I had to give you some of my background because it seemed necessary to tell you something about who I am. I was an Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder kid with boundless energy. I was a “straight C” student who accidently made the Honor roll once, so I was able to back off a little bit and have some more fun. They tell me that I was a serious problem for the neighborhood. I am glad that kids like me were still considered to be “Normal” back then and I wasn’t placed on some drug to inhibit my ambition.

I became interested in almost everything that happened, or anything that anybody said. I had no problem getting an Old-Timer to tell stories about the good old days. I found people to be endlessly fascinating and interesting. That is something that persists with me even today.

A lot of my dad’s wisdom was given to me through teasing me for my failures, or giving me advice about how I might make life simpler. One of his nuggets of wisdom that stuck with me lifelong is: “You are the person that you would be if nobody knew what you did or said.” And, “Your word is you bond, and your name is your honor.”

That seemed confusing to me at first, then it slowly sunk in and became understandable. Like a passage out of Shakespeare that doesn’t make any sense. Then, as you slowly realize what was said, and the meaning behind it, you can see the wisdom. So, I’ve taken on the mantle of always using my name to everything I say.

Realistically, using my own name in comments is a coward’s way out. Because who knows what the future will bring. If I only write what I can take ownership to, I can’t be exposed in the future for saying something that I might regret.

How many people ever thought that back when they committed what they thought would be the perfect crime, that DNA testing would expose them decades later? How many people ever thought that Kym Kemp would know how many aliases you have used on her blogsite?

Actually, signing my own name hides who I really am. I don’t say what I could say. I can hide the jerk that I really am, or the guy who sacrifices all their friends to state how they vote. I can’t express who I like or dislike because it would expose my rudeness. I can’t tell the outlandish lies that I can conjure. Having to own what I say certainly curbs my creativity. And, I am a very creative person! Who I might be “anonymously” scares me.