I’m currently having an off line conversation with a blogger. One who, had I not a wife, would probably be stalking with a fervor not seen since Narcissus discovered pocket mirrors. And the funniest thing is that I have very, very little idea what she looks like.

This got me to thinking about all the bloggers who I sometimes send mail to or regularly comment on their sites. I know what so few of them look like. Oh sure, I could pick out michele’s cleavage in a stadium, and if someone did a water color of Goldstein, I might be able to recognize him (of course, it could be one of the Bee Gees just as easily). But I really don’t know what they look like. And it’s disconcerting.

Most bloggers are just a name to me. I have forgotten how far removed we are online from each other. I realize many people shy away from being known, and many bloggers use only pseudonyms to protect themselves, but I decided from day one that I wouldn’t do that. The reason I’m not ashamed of pictures of myself or using my real name is because it keeps me honest. If I hid behind a handle, I’d be more apt to be a bit more rude or not bother with researching facts before I spout off. But this of course is my reasoning and I’m sure other bloggers have theirs.

So, just in case you have no clue what I look like, here’s a current pic.

Yeah, I consider myself God’s gag-gift to women, but holding a baby makes anyone better looking. Plus, I’m sleep deprived, partially unshorn, and haven’t showered in a few days so that might have something to do with it too.