MEDIA ALERT!!

Wow- I've always wanted to write that. Great news- My mother, my wife, and I have just been booked to appear on Good Morning America! on Thursday, June 2, but that is good news for reasons that may not be apparent.

They are bringing us on to talk about my big journey that you can find here in the current issue of GQ Magazine. That's cool and all, but here are a few reasons that I am really phsyched:

• I finally will have a chance to meet some of my Nigerian relatives that live in New York City (Bronx). My Aunty Christy was the first person that I spoke with when my Nigerian family heard from me. I can't wait to meet her.
• I will finally meet my Uncle John, my mother's brother. I met most of my aunts and uncles on my mother's side when I attended my grandfather's 90th birthday back in 2001, but unfortunatly John couldn't make it. I have been waiting to meet him ever since. I'll see Uncle Chris while I'm there too. My mother says that he and I have the same smile.
• Jason, the editor who wrote the story, always tells me that he plays basketball all the time, so hopefully I'll get a chance to get him in a gym and give him a little lesson.... (heh, heh)
• Last, but definitely not least, my daughter Aly will get to meet Diane Sawyer. You see, my daughter is an anchor/reporter for the Rahn (Elementary School) TV News, her school's daily morning newscast for the students. I asked her one time, who she would most like to be like on TV- she said Diane Sawyer. ("I love Diane Sawyer. She's the best. I want to be just like her.") Maybe she'll even get to interview Diane for her schools broadcast. (O.K. That's a stretch, but...)

Oh yeah- I suppose going to New York will be cool too. I haven't been there since 1986. Jason says it's much safer now.

(Cross Posted at YOU KNOW I'M RIGHT and In Search of Utopia)

Meet the Parents

The Johnsons, 1967

When I got on the plane in Dubuque, Iowa on that mostly cloudy day in 1968, I didn't realize I wouldn't be returning to the farm that was my foster home. "Lassie", the Bull, the cows, the chickens, and the kittens in the door around the back side of the barn would never see the little brown skinned boy again. I was on my way to Omaha to meet the people who would be my family.

I don't remember arriving in Omaha, as I slept on the flight. From the airport, we traveled by car and went to what seemed to be a huge palace to a kid my size. It was actually a convent. We went to the dining room and got something to eat, and it was time to go to bed for the night. Tomorrow was going to be a big day and I would need my sleep. The nuns set up a mattress with some sheets, a blanket, and a pillow in the hallway. Later I learned that I was probably the only male to ever sleep in that convent.

The next day, I woke up and had some breakfast- corn flakes, I think- and got dressed to head out for the day- not that I knew where we were going. This was the day I would meet my family!

The woman took me to a park and let me go play on the swings while we waited. She called me over as some people approached- a man, a woman, and a small girl. The lady I came with told me who they were but I didn't really catch on. I just wanted to go back and play. The girl saved the day by asking me if I wanted to go swing on the swings. We went over to the playground and proceeded to play while the adults talked.

After what seemed like about 15 minutes, the lady called me and the girl back over to the adults. She said something about me going to live with them, and if that was O.K. with me. I nodded my head. The family walked away, and I was told that I would see them tomorrow.

One more night in the convent, and then off to the little rambler on 38th Street where I would go an live with the Johnsons as one of the family. How was I to know that this wasn't how every kid got a family?

My American Sisters

If you got here by reading the article in GQ Magazine about my amazing journey to Africa to meet my natural father, you have already met my six brothers and sisters in Nigeria. However, I have three more sisters I want you to meet.

(Update: Welcome, Booker Rising readers. Thanks Molotov!)

From 1968 and up until a few years ago, I only had one sister. Joslen is five years older than me so we weren't the closest that two kids could be growing up. I mean how many sixth grade girls want their little first grade brother hanging around. And that was the only time that we went to the same school.

Plus, she had her friends and I had mine. She tried out for theatrical plays and played her clarinet. I played little league and jumped bikes off ramps with my friends.

About the only thing we did together was go to Lee Valley pool to go swimming. That was our summer entertainment. As many days as we could it was, "Mom- can we go swimming?"

Summers were always the best.

Joslen bears a striking resemblance to our great-grandmother, Elizabeth Juanita Taggart Willams. At least that's what my grandmother always said. (I wouldn't have known, because I had never met my great grandmother.) But it wasn't until I saw these two pictures together that I had a "Separated at Birth" vision:


My Sister Joslen


Great-Grandmother Williams

I think that was another factor as to why I began to show some interest in finding and meeting my biological parents. I always wondered if there was someone out in the world that looked like me.

When my birth mother, Kathleen, found me in 2001, one of the first things she told me was that she had two daughters from her marraige to her college boyfriend back in New Mexico. My sisters Frances and Mei-Lee both grew up and live in California to this day and both have kids- Francis, two girls, and Mei-Lee, three boys.

From the first time I talked on the phone to my newly found sisters, I knew we would be good friends. Frances, just a year and a half younger than me, is the quieter one- introspective and somewhat shy. Mei-Lee is more outgoing and told me that she had always wanted a big brother. ("How's 6'4" and 275 sound?)


Frances and Mei-Lee meet their Big Brother.


We first met at my Grandfather O'Connor's 90th birthday party where I also met several other relatives. It was then that I realized that this wasn't going too be to difficult. They make me feel like I have been a part of their family all along.

How Does It Feel?

More on reading about yourself in a magazine...

I have read the article in its entirety about three times and each time it brings back so many of the emotions that I had when I was in Nigeria. I laugh, I cry, I do a little dance...

Jason did a wonderful job of capturing the essence of my journey home. But I do have a lot more to tell. There was so much to this story and to this trip that it just wouldn't all fit in a magazine. Laura has been writing a book about it, and I plan to add a lot more here.

One question that people who have already read the story keep asking (after they congratulate me and my family)- "How does it feel?"

A little like this:


Like getting hit by Mike Tyson in his prime. (But in a good way!)

Let's just say that I've spent the last few days in a fog. But now, I think I'm ready to work toward the next goal- getting my business back in order and my family to Nigeria.

RESTART

UPDATE: IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR LINDSAY LOHAN, READ THIS POST FIRST, THEN COME BACK AND CLICK HERE. If you're wondering why I wrote that, click here.

Now that we know the GQ article is set to run is on the newsstands I think it would be appropriate for me to start this blog over. You see, I have been reluctant to write about my story in any great detail up to now, out of respect for Jason at GQ who has worked so hard to get this story published. Not that GQ didn’t support the article- Jason always made it clear to me that it was a very important story for the magazine too (plus, they had a lot invested in it- my words, not his.) That is why I gave them a certain level of exclusivity.

In any case, with the chance of having new readers here once now that the article comes is out, I think it would be nice to help you get caught up.

UPDATE: 5/18/2005 The article on my story is out. I've updated the link above.

UPDATE: 5/19/2005 Welcome readers of GQ, In Search of Utopia, The Rogue Angel, and Wizbang! Leave a comment somewhere so I know you were here.

UPDATE: 5/20/2005 Welcome Chookooloonks readers. Please let me know that you dropped by leaving a comment somewhere. Also- this weekend, make one of those recipes that Karen throws out every now and then. I'm thinking it's a good weekend in Minnesota for some Pelau in the Johnson house. (I'll have to see if I can find some coconut milk.)

My Mom and My Mother

Karen at Chookooloonks wrote a great post about how she might feel if and/or when her adopted daughter ever decides to look for her birth mother. (Check out the rest of her site while you're there. She has some great pictures and recipes I'd love to try!)

I'm glad that you brought up this topic, Karen, because one of the reasons that I wasn't originally fully comfortable with making a big push to find my natural parents was the loyalty I have to the parents I have, George and Juanita Johnson.

When writing or talking to other people I make a distinction between my two moms by calling my mom, "mom" and my mother, "my mother." Does that make sense? I do however recognize the gratitude that I owe to both of them.

My one challenge is what to call them when we are all together. My mom is "Mom" and my mother is "Kathleen" when we are all in the same place. However, when I'm talking to my sisters on the phone (Kathleen's daughters; not my sister- Mom and Dad's daughter, or my sisters, my father's daughters) I call Kathleen "mom" because it's easier to say that rather than say "YOUR mom", because she is OUR mother....

Wait- I'm confusing myself.

Let's put it this way. My "Mom" is the mom I grew up with and she will always be "Mom". My "Mother" is the mom who gave me a chance through a tough choice in life at a time so different than today. Although I do call her "mom" when I am talking to her or to that corner of my three families, unless of course I have both my mom and my mother together in the same room. Then it's easier to refer to "Mom" and "Kathleen". (Or "Grandma Kathy" which is what my kids call her.)

Does this make sense?

Reading About Your Life in a Magazine

I just read the article in GQ Magazine about my adoption reunion story and I am a bit overwhelmed.

I'd like to thank Jason Gay (Senior Editor, GQ Magazine), Mark Seliger (Condenast Photographer for GQ and Vanity Fair) and of course Luke (Mark's former assistant who traveled to Nigeria with us) for taking an interest in my story and putting together such a beautiful piece.


Jason, Luke, and Mark join the family.
(I'm glad you took this one Mark!)

I'll get back to writing soon.

NOTE: Reading the story online doesn't really do the scope of the article justice. Next time you're at the store, pick-up the current issue of GQ and see the photos in their full glory. Heck- BUY a copy. Brad Pitt is on the cover!

Happy 97th Birthday, Weavie (UPDATED)

Helen at 5

Today my grandmother, Helen "Weavie" Johnson is 97 years old. She has been living with my parents the last couple of years just to be safe, but she is doing quite well for her age. In fact, she is doing well for for people twenty years younger. I talk to her on the phone now and then, and she still remembers everything we talked about from prior conversations, and she also has her very extensive family history committed to memory.


Laura and Weavie

A few years ago, my wife Laura and I traveled to her former home in Marshalltown, Iowa and spent the day video taping an interview with her about her family stories. My Laura is a genealogy buff and was amazed at how much Weavie knows about her parents, grandparents and more. She also had hundreds of photographs going back to her great grandmother. In fact, the University of Iowa has used my grandmother as a resource for a book on the history of Iowa.

But more on that another time. First things first.

To my grandmother, who from the first day I joined the Johnson family treated me as her own, I wish a very Happy Birthday!

(I better get on the "horn.")

UPDATE: I thought you might be interested in seeing this photo of our children's great, great, great, great, grandmother.


Aly and GT's great, great, great,great grandmother

Eliza Jane Ward Sutor (center) is Weavie's great-grandmother. She is pictured with her grandson- George (front, left), her daughter-in-law and Weavie's grandmother- Margaret Caroline Brown Sutor (back left) , and her granddaughters- Lillian (back, center), Sara Jane (Weavie's mother, back right), and Alice (front, right).

Eliza Jane Ward was born a slave in Kentucky, but, through a twist of fate, was taken away as a young girl to live with "free negroes" near Cincinati, Ohio. It's a great story that will have to wait until another time. (Sorry.)

Recollections

This post by Caboodle got me to thinking about my memories of the time in my life before I was adopted.

My first recollections in life take place when I was in the second Foster home in which I had been placed. Of course I didn't know it was a Foster home at the time, but it was home.

I lived on a farm with a family that I remember having several children, all much older than me. For all I know that could mean they were anywhere from five years old to teenagers. I was only three. And- they all had skin much lighter than mine. (They were farmers in Iowa- no surprise.)

I have several distinct memories but here are the most clear to this day:


Me and "Lassie "

1) There was a dog there on the farm that I called Lassie (I think it had a different name, but she looked like Lassie to me.) Also, there was a "jackpot" door around the back side of the barn where the new baby kittens were. Three year olds LOVE kittens. I was no exception. (I'm a dog person now though.)

2) The mother of the home had a rule for me. "Stay away from the fence." Do you know how when someone tells you to do something you are always tempted to do the opposite? One day I found out why the fence area was off limits. As I wandered toward it, I could see that there were several cows on the other side of the fence far down the way in the pasture. As I stared at the cows in the distance, I heard the sound of hooves pounding toward me and this awful heavy breathing, and as I looked to my right I saw this giant lumbering animal coming at me at a high rate of speed with mean looking eyes. I screamed and began to cry. Thankfully there was a fence between me and the bull. (I don't remember ever going near that fence again though.)

3) The farm had dairy cows that spend time in a milking area in one of the barns. For those who have never seen a milking barn, the cows are lined up in rows where they are milked. In some of these barns, there will be a trough cut into the floor where the cows "do their business" during a long milking session. I remember being in the barn one day wadering around, being curious standing near these giant animals looking down at that smelly trough in the floor when someone opened the barn door behind me. As I turned to look to see who it was, my foot got caught and I fell backwards into a small sea of cow manure and urine. As I waked back to the house, crying and my arms out to the side, I knew that the only part of the barn that I ever wanted to see again was where the kittens were.

I also remember the day the nuns came to take me away. I know that they packed a suitcase for me, but it didn't quite click that I wouldn't be coming back. They took me out to eat before we went to the airport and I had ice cream for dessert. The waitress put two cookies in the scoop of vanilla and made eyes out of cherries. I thought it looked like Mickey Mouse. Next stop, the airport. The plane was a big silver one with propellers. I remember getting on, but I think I fell asleep shortly after takeoff. At this point in my life, I wonder how they could afford to fly me to Omaha from Dubuque, but I suppose that there were regional airlines that did that sort of thing back then.

It's funny- I could never remember any names from that family, or even picture what they looked like. But to this day, I feel a sense of gratitude toward them. Maybe someday I'll get the chance to thank them too.

Sharing the Spotlight

Does anybody think THIS issue will sell?

In five days Brad Pitt will be sharing space in a major magazine with yours truly. If you are walking by a newsstand and see this magazine- pick it up and look for the pictures of my amazing family. Oh- there might be a little story about us in there too.

I mean, sure, Brad as been with her and is now hanging out with her, but he doesn't have this:


Pride and joy.

Or this:


Dinner with my mom and my mother.

Or this:


My Irish half.

Or this:


My African half. Photo courtesy of Mark Seliger


Or this:


My best half.

You see Brad Pitt may date, marry, divorce, and date more Hollywood starlets and make $20,000,000 per film, but I am truly rich.

IT'S A MEME!!!

Cause it's all I have time for while eating lunch...

10 years ago:
I was 31.
I finally left the cult of TGI Fridays.
I watched my daughter walk for the first time.
I drove a mini-van.
I loved my wife.

5 years ago:
I was 36.
I closed shop on my own business and became an employee again.
I was the official Wednesday “Bike Day” mechanic at my kids Montessorri.
My house could have used a coat of paint.
I decided it was time to find my natural parents.
I loved my wife.

3 years ago:
I was 38.
I took my kids to Disneyland.
I met many relatives I never knew about.
I coached my son’s first basketball team.
I loved my wife

1 year ago:
I was 40 on 04/04/04.
My wife and kids kept the secret.
Boy, was I surprised.
I went to Africa to meet my natural father, brothers and sisters.
I was given my Igbo name.
I loved my wife.

Today:
My family is featured in a national magazine.
I coach my kids in several sports.
I need to find more business.
My house could use a coat of paint.
I drive a minivan (when it runs.)
I love my wife.

Swiped from Rogue. :0

What's This Blog About

(ORIGINALLY POSTED SEPTEMBER 2, 2004)

UPDATE: This is for those of you visiting for the first time, or who have never heard my story. You can also read about it in the June 2005 Issue of GQ Magazine here.

I was adopted at age [four] by a black family in Omaha, Nebraska. From the time of my adoption up until [four] years ago, I knew nothing about my natural parents. In fact, while I had been curious now and then, it wasn't until I got married and had children of my own that I found the motivation and desire to actually take action on the subject. Even then, it took [a lot of] prodding by my wife to become active in an actual search. [AND I THANK HER IN MY HEART EVERY DAY FOR IT!!!]

As luck would have it, just as I began my search, my natural mother found me first. She was living in California (and still is) as do her daughters (even though technically half, they are my sisters to me) and their families. About ten months later I also found my biological father and six more brothers and sisters, living back in his native country, Nigeria. And then there is the "Prince" story.



So what is this about? It's mostly be about my adoption story. I will also keep you up to date on the most recent aspects of my story as well as the progress I make on some of my new goals. These include my quest to take my wife and children to Africa to meet their Nigerian family, and to bring my Nigerian family to the United States to see where I live.

And of course I will be throwing in a few opinions here and there on different issues ranging from adoption, to race realtions, to what makes a family and so on (although I'll keep a separate blog for any overtly political ramblings.)

This past May I went to Nigeria to meet my father and his children (my six brothers and sisters) for the very first time thanks to a wonderful surprise on my birthday (40 on 04/04/04, a numerologist's dream). A writer and photographer from GQ Magazine went with me on my trip and will be publishing a story about my trip and adoption experience that will be on the stands October 25th. More on that later.

I hope you enjoy reading this. Drop a comment here and there to let me know you stopped by!

Also- find out why I am accepting donations.

UPDATE 8/26/2004: Looks like the GQ article won't be out until February 2005.

UPDATE 2/20/2005: Uh... Make that later this year- perhaps April or May 2005.

UPDATE 5/19/2005: It hit the stands in New York and L.A. on May 19th. May 26th for the rest of the world.

Another "15 Minutes" Coming Up

(ORIGINALLY POSTED AUGIST 29th 2004)

When the first article about my story came out in the local paper, and was then sent out on the AP wire, I got phone calls from about 20 radio stations all around the country, plus from Canadian Broadcasting [CBC] in Toronto and BBC London- all different programs that wanted to inteview me and ask me questions on the air about my story. It was quite overwhelming, and though it was flattering that they all wanted to hear about my story, I didn't really have a lot of answers for them. I didn't fully understand what it meant to be an Nigerian Igbo (ee-bo) prince, plus it was very difficult to describe how I felt at the time.

The "Prince" idea was cool and all, but I was much more excited about the fact that I had finally come in contact with both sides of my biological family. I had already met my mother along with my two sisters, and many of my aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, etc. on her side. My next big priority was to get to Nigeria to meet my father- preferably with my wife and children going with me so we all could meet my his side of the family.. That is what was really important to me. The thought of that reunion was the truly exciting part of the story for me. However, for the media that contacted me, they were more intrigued about the Prince angle.

In May of [2004], thanks to the grace of God and a little behind the scenes trickery by Laura (a.k.a. The Wife) I finally got the opportunity to travel to Nigeria for the first time to meet my biological father, my six brothers and sisters, and dozens of other relatives living in the village of Aboh Orlu. An editor from a major magazine who had been following my story went with me and brought along a photographer (and his assistant) to document my trip. The article he is writing comes out in their November issue. (I'll tell you which magazine as we get closer to the publish date.)

I am not sure what to expect when the article finally hits the news stands, but because it is going to a very large article in a major magazine, I am sure that I will get another barrage of calls when it comes out. My biggest concern is that it doesn't disrupt my family and my job. While the 15 minutes of fame can be exciting, I also know that I must keep it in perspective.

Now that I have been to Nigeria, the next step for me is to go back again with my wife and children along so that my father can meet his grandchildren. Our goal is to go in December of 2005. It takes a lot of planning and a heck of a lot of money to travel to Nigera- especially with children. Thus we put off going one more year and decided it would make more sense to go in 2005 when we could spend a lot more time saving money to get there.

This has been an incredible turning point in my life that I have chosen to share with other people- especially other adoptees that may have found or are still looking for their biological parents. It is my greatest hope that in the process of getting my second "15 minutes of fame" I will be able to use the opportunity to 1) get my family over to Nigeria, and 2) help as many others reach their own dreams as possible.

UPDATE 8/29/2004: MY wife tells me that it's OK to say the name of the magazine. The November issue of GQ Magazine comes out on October 25th.

Update 5/10/2005: O.K. As you can tell, the original publish date of the GQ article got pushed back. In fact, it got pushed back a couple of times. But it will definitely be coming out at the end of this month (June 2005 issue.)

Mother's Day

Me and my two moms, Juanita (left) and Kathleen (right).

I am one of a select few people who can boast having two actual moms to thank on Mother's Day.

I met Juanita Johnson when I was four years old. I didn't actually understand what was happening at the time- that this woman I was meeting would be my mother. At that age, who knew that wasn't how everybody got a family?

What I do know is Juanita Johnson is the first person that I could call "Mom." She's the one who took me to piano lessons. She is the one who made me brush my teeth every day. She is the one who made sure had my lunch money. She is the one who sat through every baseball game, school play, music concert, and anything else that I was doing at any given time when I was growing up. Though the innate abilities I had came from a place I didn't know (yet), my mom (and my dad) allowed me to explore and nurture every inch of my talents, and always supported me when I was at my best and when I was at my worst.

I met Kathleen O'Connor Wang in March 2001- I was just shy of my 37th birthday. Back in 1964, when she gave me up for adoption, it was a very different time and America was a very different place. I can only imagine what it would have been like for a nice Irish Catholic girl to raise a black child. But that wasn't really the issue for my mother and her family. My mother wasn't ready to raise a child alone and my grandparents already had five other kids in the home and two in college.

So my mother did something selfless that so many others have done. She gave me a chance in life.

And my mom stepped up, gave me a home, and improved those chances at every possible turn.

My life is full of great stories- I've done more things than most people can even dream of. But my best story is that I have two moms who made everything in my life possible.

Mrs. Johnson and Ms. Wang- thank you for the amazing things you have done for me. I owe you a lot. More than anyone could know.

I love you. Happy Mother's Day!

Quiz of the Month

It's lunchtime and thought I'd give you a quiz:

Guess who is going to be on the cover of GQ in June (the same issue as my story)?

You only get one guess.

(Answer to be revealed on June 19th...)

The Ultimate Family Reunion

I was checking out one of my daily reads, Booker Rising and I came across a post on How to Organize a Successful Family Reunion and it got me to thinking about one of my greatest dreams since I discovered my natural mother's and natural father's families.


Home of the yearly Fourth of July Party

About 10 years ago, my dad began hosting a yearly Fourth of July party for our extended family and friends in his back yard back in Omaha. Over the years it grew bigger and bigger and as it grew, it became a de facto Family Reunion. It wasn't too hard for a number of our relatives, who live mostly in the midwest, to make it to Omaha for a holiday weekend. In fact, as of a few years ago, even my uncle in California and some cousins from Texas and D.C. would even make it out for the yearly celebration.

However, as of two years ago, with my parents both in their upper 70's, the event was getting too big for my parents to handle and the decided to no longer host the party.

At one of the last "Johnson Family Fourth of July" that Laura, the kids, and I attended and before my parents decided they weren't going to have the annual event any more, I was talking with my mom about a big dream that I have- having a family reunion. But not just any family reunion. This one, I would plan, host, and invite ALL of my family.

That would include my family I grew up with- my parents, my sister, my 96 year old grandmother and her children, grandchildren, great grand children and great, great, grandchildren. Basically all the descendants of Frank and Helen Johnson, my adoptive father's parents, from his older sister and his two brothers on down.

But then, I would also want to have all the descendants of my natural mother's father, Thomas O'Connor. That would include my mother and five living brothers and sisters (one of my uncles passed away several years ago) and all their children and grandchildren- especially my two sisters Mei-Lee and Frances.

Finally I would have my father, his seven living brothers and sisters and all the other living relatives of my Grandfather Ogike. That would include my six brothers and sisters in Nigeria- Chibuzo, Gerald, Amara, Obianuju, Phyllis, and Nnadozie. If you included all my cousins, etc. That alone would be over 140 people.

As I have said before, it would be a logistical nightmare. Besides all of the people traveling and coming from basically all over the U.S. and world (visas would be just part of the problem) finding places for everyone to stay, feeding what would be probably over 300 people, getting people to and from places- WHEW! I would definitely need a great sponsor, an event planner, and a bigger grill.

I know that this is a dream that could probably never happen, but man, would THAT be something?!

It w0uld be an amazing thing if it could happen.

Building Blog Traffic

I'm what I would call an "Occasional Blogger." I originally started blogging hoping that thousands upon thousands of people would start reading what I had to say and especially want hear about my compelling personal story on my Big Journey blog. I figured that all I had to do was write a few good posts and they would come.

Little did I realize how much time you have to put into deciding what to write about and actually typing it into coherant thought. But heck- I already had a built in, fascinating topic. I mean how many people discover that they are a prince at age 38? Who wouldn't want to read about that?

But then I discovered that I also was quite consumed by politics, (thanks to the 2004 elections, Glenn Reynolds, LaShawn Barber, Polipundit and many others on the blogroll) so I wrote a couple of political posts too. BUT figuring that I should keep my great personal story separate from my political thoughts and rantings, I started my second blog, You Know I'm Right.

Now I would be lying (as would every other blogger in the world) if I said that I write just for my own personal reasons and wouldn't care if nobody ever read either of my blogs. Of course, I want other people to read what I write. The back and forth of comments is what makes this fun. However, I haven't really mastered the art of using comments and trackbacks to get people to come to my two blogs. Also, I realize that I just plain don't write enough posts to get people to want to come back over and over to see what I have said lately.

Thus my term "Occasional Blogger." I blog once in a while when I'm not coaching my kids in sports, or working on a committee at their school, or volunteering as a community center, or helping a Realtor get a client pre-approved for financing at the last minute so they can make an offer on a house (I'm a mortgage banker in real life.)

Yeah- I get it. You have to make time to write often and write well, and even then, I may still never get a slew of regular readers.

But recently, I noticed a spike in traffic on the Big Journey blog. Now to me, this was quite odd because I haven't really written a lot of new posts, and frankly, I haven't even kept the story going in a single direction or up to date. And besides- I truly have been trying to hold off writing a lot about this until the GQ article about my story comes out. (Then I'll start blogging on that site in earnest.)

So how did this come about?


Marty's Big Journey- How did this happen?

Like I said- infrequent posts don't usually make for a huge jump in traffic. Nor did I get a world famous "Instalanch." So what caused this?

Google. Apparently there is a popular search out there that is finding one of my posts.

Back in September I made a post lamenting that fact that the GQ story was being pushed back for a while. The post included a certain photo and and key words that for some reason is sending me quite a few Google hits. (See below.)





(UPDATE (5/10/2005): I know many of you are getting to this post looking for the lovely young lady in the picture above, but while you are here, why not find out why I reference this magazine in the first place... )

Apparently the search for Lohan on Google Images search has been giving me quite a pop in traffic (I'm number two!).

I guess all of those interesting, insightful, entertaining, fascinating, and otherwise brilliant posts I have been writing just don't mean a thing. Just put a pop culture icon in the blog and you'll get plenty of traffic!

Too damn funny!

UPDATE:5/10/2005: Now this explains it. Maybe I just need to work on the other twenty four.

UPDATE 5/11/2005: Lori Byrd at Polipundit says that women like pretty pictures too.


(Cross-posted at my more political blog- You Know I'm Right.)