Let me be clear at the outset that I like to talk. I might write something on here 5 times a day. I'm an addict. I  love the way my fingers feel when they are whizzing over the keys. I  love being able to write complete sentences and not have to stop because the spellchecker keeps telling me I did something wrong.

I don't really have anything to say right this minute. This is a common occurrence. I figure, in blogland at least, that particular trait won't hurt me much. From what I've seen, blogging is pretty free form. It can be stream of consciousness or cogently arranged. It's all good. It's the ultimate post-modern forum, really. It's democratization of published expression is what marks our day and time.

True, the experts say that the sheer volume of blog and bloggers will hopelessly obscure the good writing from the bad. As the late Tim Russert once asked, "When will we know the next Hemingway has published?" I chose the name "The wind of me" to reflect the fact that , quite often, what appears here will be little more than wind. No matter if the subject is as serious as a fart in a Yaris or whimsically light, it's a fair bet that there will be alot of it.

Maybe some of you might even like it. I hope so. I like alot of yours.