Whither Robbo?

Ladies and Gentlemen, I believe I am going to start a blog.

"But, Tom," you are no doubt saying to yourselves, "Um, don't you already have one?"

Well, I do and I don't. Let me explain.

You see, we Llamas started out this little venture five years ago come Thanksgiving. Although I had started reading a handful of sites at that point, I had never dreamed of actually contributing anything to the Blogsphere, and the idea came quite out of the Blue for me. One day Steve-O suddenly emailed "Hey, I've set up a blog. Let's do it." And the rest, as they say, is history.

But can I let you in on a secret? Even after all this time I have never really felt that this was my blog. Instead, I've always felt it was Steve-O's: He's the guy, after all, who set it up. He's the guy who gave it its unique character. He's the guy who has scooped all of our Insta-lanches (remember when those were a big deal?). And he's the guy who single-handedly propelled us for a brief time into the lower stratosphere of current events commentary. In short, he is The Llama.

Me? I've always felt like a bit of a hanger on, or - really - more like a house guest. And the truth is that I've had the growing conviction for some time that I have morphed into that very worst sort of house guest, the sort who blares his music all night with his obnoxious friends, cleans out the liquor cabinet without offering to pay or restock it, and then castigates you because you don't separate out your plastics from your paper or buy only organic milk. This isn't right.

And whether it's because of my behavior or not, I dunno (although I strongly suspect), but regular readers will know that Steve-O has pretty much vanished these past few months. As I say, Steve-O is the guiding force behind this place, the source of its character. As Mrs. Peperium observed earlier this summer after meeting me:

My first victim shall be Robbo. And he's the only one that is a bona fide victim. And like all victims, his victimhood stems all his from own doing, not mine. How did Robbo victimize himself? Easy. Last summer he wrote about meeting a fellow blogger for lunch during his summer holiday. And, much more importantly, Robbo wrote that he has learned that when you meet bloggers in real life they are always what they appear to be from their blogs. It was his understanding thatdue to the very nature of blogging and the need to write everyday, one could not hide one's true self for any sustained period.

Guess what? What a complete load of tosh that was. Robbo is not at all what he pretends to be on the blogosphere......I had concluded that he would fit right in the compound down in Hyannisport with the raping and pillaging of the liquor cabinet, women and the croquet lawn the Kennedys pretend is a football field whenever the besotted press shows up. Especially since Robbo had gone Catholic in recent days. But no, Robbo wouldn't. Which means his playing the baby grand is true. I had always thought his baby grand was just an expensive liquor cabinet that suited his medicinal needs and Mrs. Robbo's taste in interior design. I must now inform you that Robbo uses proper language. None of that Southern/English/drunk frat boy with glandular issues speak he often employs. Robbo is proper, most proper.

I've met probably a dozen or so fellow-bloggers out there and I'm sure that most of you would agree with Mrs. P's assessment.

When Steve-O is charging ahead on all eight cylinders, I can tag along and chip in. I feel that my more, ah, esoteric postings add value to the general feel of insanity around here when they intersperse with his patented brand of inspired self-expression. But on my own? I simply can't keep the shtick up.

Thus, my belief that it's time for me to start a new blog, something more in keeping with my own character where the kind of posting I really want to do is less clankingly discordant than it now seems to me in this half-empty Butcher's Shop. And indeed, to this end, I've already set up a Wordpress account and, in a fit of inspiration, picked out a name that I think will suit just fine. My plan is to turn Sadie and Phin loose on it - if they'll take the job - and not to start posting until I get back from vacation and can settle down to do the job properly.

As for the Llamas? Oh, I intend to stick around, to be sure. For one thing, I don't want to leave Steve-O, Gary and the LMC in the lurch. For another, I think this place will hot up once the fall campaigns get into full swing. My plan is to chip in, and perhaps to keep my more frivolous postings here as well. But as I say, I need a place where I have the elbow room to (I shudder even as I type this) be myself.

What do you think?

UPDATE: Oh, shoot - you know I can't wait until after the vac to unveil what I have in mind, so go on over and have a look at The Port Stands At Your Elbow. Let me just pat myself on the back a bit by noting that I figured out how to get the banner image up all by my Luddite lonesome. Still need help with blogrolling n' stuff, tho'.

Let me be clear again: This is not an either/or proposition. I'm not going anywhere. (Indeed, I'll probably wind up cross-posting a lot of stuff.) But as I say, this is Steve-O's place as much if not more than mine and I certainly have no right to tear it down or refashion it in order to suit my own whims.

Yip! Yip!