Mothers Of The Revolution

It is with great pride that I describe my most loyal readers as a bunch of mothers. My own, who never misses an installment. My own wife, the mother of my son who saves up a week's worth to read all at once. My mother-in-law, who keeps a daily routine that includes me and my blog. And just the other night, during a conversation with friends, I was informed that the matriarch of their clan has become a fan as well.
I understand that this nearly half dozen converts does not a national trend make, but I am still pleased and happy that the word is getting out. Or the words, in the case of most entries here. If I am tweaking sympathetic nerve endings or raising questions that had not been asked prior, then I am happy to continue my business here.
There are times when rooting around in pop culture and politics becomes a messy and depressing avocation. A hobby that included less immersion in the details of presidential politics and more focus on getting that ship into the bottle might be nice. Of course, once I had my eyes opened to the trick of this particular craft, I decided that it wasn't quite the challenge I imagined. So why not continue to mine the seamy underbelly of this great land of ours for the entertainment of the mom mass that hangs on my every syllable?
I hope that the patience of mothers of all genders is rewarded by my continued press for the truth, whether it pertains to the current administration or my cable bill. I hope that I raise as many chuckles as eyebrows. I hope that if you don't happen to identify with the label I am tossing about here that you will bear with me. Because my initial audience was, and continues to be, my very patient mother. She was the one who lauded my second grade composition, "The Drunken Snake." She was the one who sat patiently, endured and encouraged my attempts at political satire in the fifth grade. She was the one who laughed at the right spots.
So I suppose that I am not surprised by this revelation. I expect that opening an eye to something missed or forgotten is a public service, which fits in well with the rest of my plans for world domination. Mothers are the reason we're all here, after all, and if I'm giving anything back then I am doing something good.
Thanks for reading.