Believe it or not but there’s a lot that goes into writing this column. There’s less to do when publishing it to this blipfish blog, but there’s stuff going on behind the scenes, let me tell you.

Not everyone is up to the challenge.

I have to open up deep, dark, secret parts of my psyche and drop them down in front of you. Did you hear that thud? That was one right there. Damn, that sounded deep and dark, didn’t it?

Fortunately I have coping mechanisms that help get me through each day. You have to when you work for yourself.

My day begins with my first cup of coffee. My wife says it’s more like a science experiment. I think she’s referring to the fact that I have a precise formula I follow to make it “just right” each time. Fresh ground coffee (whole bean, extra bold), two spoons of sugar, splash of creamer (the good kind, of course), one and a half spoons of chocolate syrup (again, the good kind), and then I fill up the stainless steel travel mug within one and a half inches from the top. This leaves just enough room for a little milk to top it off. (I think I’m starting to see her point).

It’s important to start the day right when you have the responsibility of creating this brilliant column, selling tshirts, creating masterpieces of art, consulting for businesses, marketing affiliates, and playing Tiger Woods golf with Mike or Ajay. As a matter of fact I insist on only using that stainless steel mug for my coffee. The first reason is that it holds more than a normal coffee cup. The second reason… it looks like some high-tech container that alien embryos might be stored cryogenically inside of. (Now you’re starting to see why I need coffee). But, this is all due to the fact that I have have such vast responsibilities and frankly, because you people stress me out. It reminds me of when I was milk-monitor in grade school. My powers were absolute. There was a lot on my shoulders then, too.

With coffee number one in hand I head to the office. My think box. The Crow’s Nest. I log on to the computer and check mail.

I must be getting old. I remember when “checking the mail” had only one meaning… going to the front door, opening it, sticking your hand inside the metal box and pulling out paper envelopes and letters from Ed McMahon. Now, it means something different to many people. It’s a shame too because sometimes you get lucky and get a really attractive mail-carrier-lady-person like mine who has nice legs. (“mine” – like I hold the pink-slip on her).

Anyway, I digress…

I check the “mail” in roughly this order: email from friends first, mail from friends second, email lists or groups I subscribe to third, physical magazines I subscribe to fourth, and then any mail marked “urgent” gets looked at last.

I like getting mail. I like email especially. The Internet allows me a great way to reclusively socialize from the comfort of my office chair, drinking my coffee, sitting in my underwe…

I’ve said too much.

I also like writing these columns for you every month. I like saying that I write them every month when they don’t really get done that consistently. It’s a great way to communicate without having to get dressed up (or dressed) or having to set my cryogenic container down (coffee mug).

It makes me feel important. It even makes me seem… mysterious.

“So, what do you do Dan?”

“I… write… I do other things too.”

“Wow, that’s very important, even a little mysterious.”

See? I like that.

On to the other things…

I have a friend, we’ll call him “Hector” (that’s not his real name). Hector likes to give me ideas about what to write, products to add to the stores, pictures and paintings to create. Now, it’s easy to come up with the greatest poster design since Andy’s Campbell Soup Cans (at least “think in your own mind that you’ve come up with a great design”). It’s an entirely different matter to be the one who has to create such things.

You see, when Hector (not his real name, remember?) says things like: “Hey! You could do this really great ball of fire that jumps off the page, and has this 3-D effect that when people look at it they can’t believe it’s not real!” I tend to turn a deaf ear to him because you just know that that can’t possibly work in spite of how grand it sounds. I mean, it’s weirder than those paintings of Jesus or Elvis where the eyes seem to follow you around.

But, I humor him and smile. He probably thinks he’s the driving force behind my artistic visions. I also think he likes to tell people that he would be my “phone a friend” guy if I ever made it on that television game show that used to be hosted by Regis.

He isn’t and he wouldn’t.

(I wonder what the liability issues would be for a poster that actually burned the tops of people’s heads as they walked by?) Hmmmm…

(Have you noticed that I write parenthetically a lot?)

I admit it. I do (write parenthetically way too much). It’s like typing what I think. I like writing this way. I like having a friend whose name I won’t tell you. In fact, there’s no reason on Sting’s green Earth for me not to tell you. Yet, it all makes me seem like I have stuff going on that’s just too important or mysterious to tell you about. Like those guys that write to Penthouse Magazine, or so I hear. Yah, they have mysterious and action-packed lives, let me tell you! I mean, that’s what I hear.

Having a friend that is named “Hector” is no big deal. There’s lots of Hectors out there and they must be friends of somebody, right? But, telling you upfront that it’s not his real name makes me seem like I have “people” that you shouldn’t know about. Hey, I can have people. I can… like Hector (as you recall—that’s not his real name).

Nope, I wouldn’t tell you his name. Not even if you begged me or large sums of money were involved. You could even bribe me with a visit from Gillian Anderson wearing nothing but a bikini and tinfoil hat and I still wouldn’t tell you. It would ruin the image you have of me – coffee, parentheses, mystery and all.

I like my coffee. I like writing parenthetically. I like them almost as much as referring to Ajay as “Hector.”