Suspicious Beef

A few weeks ago I was in a crowded elevator when somebody farted. I didn't hear it--nobody did. But the stench, oh. It was bad. And the thing about elevators is, of course, the Universal Rule of the Lift (see "ascending room" circa 1823, London): you do not ever make eye contact or acknowledge the fact that you are smushed ass to crotch with complete strangers. You do not tell the lady in front of you that gee, her hair smells terrific as strands of it stick to your lip gloss. Nor do you ever comment on farts even though there you are stuck in a hermetically sealed box smelling the inside of a stanger's colon. Of course every ounce of my being wanted to be all dude, who farted? just so people would know it wasn't me. (It wasn't, I swear. I'd tell you if it had been.) But the suspicious beef went unclaimed.

Of course now we are not in an elevator, we are on my blog and I can say this: DUDE, WHO FARTED? Because I have come to realize that mean anonymous comments are like an unclaimed fart in a crowded room. Yes, I've had all weekend and that is what I've come up with. An unclaimed fart in a crowded room. Wait for the imagery and you will see. Wait for it, wait for it, inhale, inhale-- yeah.

Lately I've received a handful of mean anonymous comments. Part of me says not to call attention to it but another part of me just wants to address the stench and air it out. Here is the thing: I am not for everyone. Nobody is. This is not news. Personally I cannot stand the artwork of Thomas Kinkade but I would never go to his website to tell him to cut out all that Painter of Light shit. He's doing his thing and I respect that. It doesn't mean I have to like bucolic cottages and candlelight.

It amazes me what people will say under the cloak of anonymity, how casually they will criticize and call you out. Some might argue that in writing a public blog I have inherently opened myself up to criticism. But the thing is I have little to no control over the world at large. Someone might flip me off in traffic for nothing and I can't change that. Conflict abounds. But this blog is my little space I have carved out for myself, the surreal estate of my mind full of rollicking pastures, words, ideas and beautiful, smart people. I can build a fence if I want. I can keep out the riff-raff. Yes, there is a guest list. And yes, you are on it. If.

Some might also argue that I only want people who will kiss my ass and compliment me. That is simply not true. I welcome anyone who respects me. I listen to criticism that is constructive. But if you are simply calling me names and questioning my character, well--I reserve that for the people in my life who actually know my true character, not just the caricature of my blog.

So there. I have changed my comments settings to moderated and I am holding a can of Febreze. Please come to my party, read my blog, eat the onion dip--it's to die for! Sure it might give you a little gas. Everybody farts. But if you do, just let me know. I'll stand there with you in the stench of your colon as long as you respect me enough to tell me. Let's hold hands, smile, together we can all enjoy the ride.

*Suspicious Beef is the name that Bryan and I have given our band should we decide to ever start one. I play a mean rendition of Pachelbel's Canon in D and Cyndi Lauper's Time after Time on the piano and Bryan can do The Running Man real good, so watch out! Suspicious Beef World Tour 2009! Dates to be Announced Soon!

**Gah! How could I forget! Come visit me over at The Lil Bee today where I am guest posting as part of her genius Bee's Economic Stimulus Package! No talk of mean comments there! Just pastel rainbows and unicorns, puffy paint and pink! Come on by!