Is it truly an anabasis if no greeks are involved?

I begin this missive with the hope of illustrating the worldview of that most ignored minority, well-educated middle class white American males. Too long have we labored in obscurity, and the rise of Obama has inspired me to become an activist as well, to tell the world our story, to claim our spot in the sun.

Actually, I do this out of respect for my slacker peers and forebears. Many of my friends and coworkers have asked me to keep them updated regarding my journeys, but I can barely answer my current emails, ignore more Facebook games than I participate in, and have actually had this bloody account for three years before posting. So rather than offend by negligence on an individual basis I will seek to offend via flippancy on a mass network.

To give credit where it is due, my efforts are inspired by that rock of British machismo, my personal hero and soon to be yours; Martin Robards and his blog "Mother Carey's Kitchen" http://mrobards.blogspot.com/. Of course he has been too busy chasing a beautiful lady about the subcontinent and hobnobbing with the walrus elite in DC to post since September, but I will endeavour to learn from his failings.

So what? Well, the point will be chronicle the adventures of a sheltered, introverted lad of the subarctic during his midlife crisis in New Zealand. I'm going for Faulkner meets Hillary (the climber, not the clinton) but anticipate something more of a shel silverstein, if I am fortunate. But that, like all good backstories, will have to wait for the next issue.