Fellow Lost Angelinos:
Last January after some coaxing from my girlfriend, I decided to turn my habit of writing long-winded Facebook notes into a full-fledged blog. It’s been nearly a year now and before I close up shop for the holidays (you have better things to do than read my writing), I wanted to take a quick look back on everything that has happened this year. Or at least what I can remember…
I remember in January getting less than fifty reads a day. That January I had just over 1,900 reads for the month. Last month I had just under 20,000. In September (during the Nike battle), we did just under 50,000 reads. It has grown every single month. The way it is going, Lost Angeles could get half a million reads in 2010. It will take some interesting content and some luck of the viral, but it’s a real goal. Not bad considering I was born with a brain the size of a walnut.
There have been new people finding this site every day and that is only because all of you who make me a part of your daily routine have passed my link around. During the Nike scandal, I had people that didn’t know I wrote Lost Angeles send me links to my own articles. The best feeling. Any blogger out there will tell you, it is nice to know someone else is out there in the great, black abyss. It is nice to know you aren’t alone. I haven’t felt alone on this thing is a long, long time. So thank you.
Thank you isn’t really enough. Writing is one of those things where you simply can’t win. It is the song that never ends (it just goes on and on my friends). It’s something that grows from the strangest part of a personality. I have been paid to write articles, screenplays and copy and I need to be honest: None of it has ever felt as good as writing Lost Angeles.
I can say safely that the joy of writing is not attached to money. This is my favorite writing and I have never seen a dollar for it (but I sure have seen some delicious Jack Links Beef Jerky I was sent to review). This blog is a special place for me. When you boil writing down to its core, it is probably just a human need to connect. It’s a hope of having a conversation about life and getting dragged through the muck and miracles that infiltrate a human timeline. That need to connect is not monetary. There has been no greater joy in my writing career (if you could call it that) than talking with you all on my home away from home: The Internet.
So what’s gone on this year? A lot!
Told Nike where they could stick their UCLA colored USC apparel, didn’t get killed by Phil Knight. Yet. Ate some moldy beef jerky and learned why that happens from time to time. Invented the #runtweet and cracked a rib perfecting the technique. Told the entire city of Boston to eat it several dozen times. Invented a rum punch recipe with scotch and won some free booze. Learned to eat vegetables consistently. Pepper-sprayed myself. Ran down Pico on Purim and it was dangerous. Played “Girl From Ipanema” over 40 times in a two day span in Palm Springs. Shamelessly promoted myself and my band (Fight From Above available on iTunes) for twelve straight months, made a lot of friends on Twitter, related baseball to life a lot, attended over 40 baseball games, pretended I was in college and shotgunned some beers back when I thought USC was still elite, tried to convince Jack Daniel’s to sponsor me, claimed that Dwight Howard either take steroids or has shoulder implants, continue to beg Canter’s to name a sandwich after me, played music and experienced both fear AND loathing all over the west coast, talked a lot of smack about Bill Simmons, suggested that Dyson makes a vacuum that cures cancer, told “anti-Twitter guy” to get with it or get out of the way, was confused for Zach Behrens at Blogger Prom, started writing for LAist and now am not confused with Zach Behrens (he and Lindsay William Ross are really cool), made Jimmy Bramlett talk me off the ledge four times a week during the MLB Playoffs. Committed grammatical and spelling errors on almost every post I published. Reviewed the classic films Side Out and Airborne. Invited Andre Ethier to Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles with me. Denied. Hoped I explained to the Facebook population that taking kissyface photos with you bf/gf on a daily basis just makes society hope you end up like Tiger Woods.
I don’t know exactly what I have learned. I know I have made a lot of blogger friends and have read a lot of their great writing. I’ve thought about what I am even doing with this. I have come to the conclusion that I don’t care and I will continue to do more of it in 2010. I have talked to “Hollywood Types” about this blog, but I haven’t heard any ideas that sound like “Lost Angeles” to me. You would all agree. After all, you are Lost Angeles. You are what inspires me every single day. Just like running, I don’t always feel like writing. But then I do and I am rewarded by a sea of people telling me I made them laugh or telling me that I am the biggest piece of shit in the L.A. Basin.
You know. Either way.
I have learned to have thicker skin. I think we all want to be liked, but I think finding out on a daily basis how many people think I am a total moron is about equal to the amount that think I am at least worth a read. It makes you realize it doesn’t really matter. You put yourself out there and let everyone figure it out themselves. It makes it really special when someone comes back everyday to see what you’ve scribbled. You will never please everyone.
I will be closing down Lost Angeles until January 4th, so please don’t forget about me over the holidays. I will try to post, but I will be traveling, working and finishing up some other writing projects I have neglected (I prefer hanging out with all of you).
That said, here are my holiday wishes for you all: Long runs and healthy knees, scotch that warms your belly and dulls your mind, good company that you enjoy being with, a job in a tough economy and an attractive person who thinks you are also attractive.
Thank you for everything again. I promise I’ll continue trying to be a pleasant diversion from your work emails, your nightly television routine and the day-to-day tomfuckery that causes you to read a silly person like myself.
You guys have given me more than I could have asked for this year. I only hope I am returning the favor.
Love and Single Malts,