As I was reading Dooce’s monthly letter to her daughter, I realized that she was being critical of me.  Maybe not the specific me, but certainly the generalization of me.  In her post I think I was lumped in with a bunch of others, to become “some people.”  Truth be told, I don’t mind.  In fact, from now on I think I’ll refer to myself as “some people,” because I know there’s strength in numbers and should push comes to shove, some people can probably kick one people’s ass.

About three years ago I started reading Dooce’s blog.  I was taken by how her word selection, timing and pace seemed so perfect.  She wasn’t talking over me.  The story setups were subtle yet the stories very active, then pow! she hit me with the kicker.  I thought it was brilliant.  Remember the first few times you watched The West Wing, E.R. or House?  The quick dialog swept you up like you were tubing on some rapids, coming around a blind corner - it was exciting, and you weren’t quite sure what you’d get once around those rocks.  I thought the Dooce blog was like that.

Every so often I’d navigate to the contact page and send off an email to Dooce.  One day I’d heard the colloquial term “Dooce” explained on NPR and thought it was pretty neat that a blogger I read was getting some press on a national radio show - I emailed my kudos.  (By the way, I never heard back.)

This now pales in comparison to the current Today Show exposure she’s getting, but this was a few years ago, back when Dooce only ruled the western half of the United States.  And back then it looked like what she was doing was a good time, and me?  I like good times.  So I wanted to jump right in there and start embarrassing myself.  But I had some concerns about blogging about my family, and thought that of all the people who would have experience with that issue, it’d be Dooce.  So I sent an email seeking some advice, complete with many compliments in the hopes of currying some favor.  Did she have a predetermined set of rules governing the things she would and would not blog about?  Which things were off limits, which fair game?  Dooce’s reply?  Didn’t happen.  Again.

But I kept reading.  She’s extremely entertaining, after all.  In a Bangville Police sort of way.  As I read more and more about her daughter and saw an increasing number of photos, I wondered if she’d taken any steps to protect the privacy of her daughter or her family in general.  When the time came for me to launch my blog, I wanted to take those same steps.  So I sent another email.  Again, I got nothing back.  Not even an auto-responder (for the record, all my emails have met the same fate).  As it turned out, there was nothing to send; short of publishing her address and phone number, she left it all hanging out there.

Now I should clarify - I’ve never been one to send criticism to Heather for publishing anything, be it extracurriculars with A-1 bottles, Leta’s steady diet of french fries, whatever.  Sure, some stuff made me worry a bit, but it wasn’t my business or my family.  I’d tell myself that more than half the content of her posts was probably bullshit anyway.  FOR  ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY.

Then I read the monthly letter and realized that I must be an idiot.  After all, achieving a level of celebrity has never been the honey that draws out the psycho stalkers.  I mean, David Letterman was totally having an affair with that woman.  That’s why she kept “breaking into” his home, right?  John Hinckley Jr?  I’m sure Jodie Foster told him to try to wack Reagan.  Actress Rebecca Schaefer?  I sure the round she took to the chest by her stalker was an accident.  Dude was aiming for the dog on her sweater.  And John Lennon?  David Chapman just wanted to boost the value of his recently acquired Lennon autograph.  Totally reasonable.  And then there’s Jesse James, Sandra Bullock’s husband.  I’m sure the transmission on Marcia Valentine’s Mercedes just got stuck in drive.  And then reverse.  And then drive.  And then reverse.

So yeah, what a hyper-critical ass I am, wanting to learn of any methods Heather’s using to protect her family and local acquaintances as her popularity rises, because that bad shit?  It NEVER HAPPENS.  Crazy to think that putting your kid’s name and face out there over and over and over again would ever have any chance of precipitating The Dark.

Silly me.