As About pages go, this one's a shade antithetical. In fact it's quite flatly about what this site is not about. And what it's not about is the unfortunate amalgamation of Pontiacs and trees.

At some point, after a foggy number of years in the news business, I hit on the realization that a lot of what I found myself writing day-after-day seemed to boil down to something as rudimentary as, "A Pontiac hit a tree. Blah-blah-blah. Police are investigating."

For the sake of expedience, I chiseled the reference to the Spartan rendition: "A Pontiac hit a tree," which was likely an improvident edit on my part, as it further reduced the merit of what I was doing for a living. As if the first version wasn't bad enough.

If you create things, you can collect them. Over time, you develop a body of work. My body of work had eventually bulked itself up to thousands and thousands of car-meets-tree arrangements in the key of this-is-just-dumb.

What exactly do you do with something like that? It's not like the Stones hitting the 10,000 mark for concert-venue performances of Satisfaction. People still enjoy that. Nobody starts dancing when you tell them a Pontiac hit a tree. Ever. They just look at you funny. I get enough of that as it is.

At any rate, whether the story was a politician's prattle or a legislator's law or a river that robbed its own banks of the inclination to hold water, all of that stuff started looking like a '72 Bonneville in the clutches of an irascible, gnarly old oak; radiator steam rising. And having owned Pontiacs, it was all akin to watching a loved-one getting punched in the nose by a ham-fisted dullard.

I'm not going to spend the money for a professional diagnostician to go spelunking in the basement of my psyche in search of a rusting LeMans but it's probably time to tidy-up the maps in the pilot house.

So I've staged my own personal intervention. It consists largely of scribbling on the Internet with a digital Box of 64 and making things I like to make or that I'd just like to share.

I've kept the Web site clean and simple so I can pay more attention to what I'm writing on the front of the page than what I'm writing on the back. Code isn't particularly rewarding until it's finished. And then, only if you haven't screwed it up. Writing on this side of the page is downright fun - it's Disneyland without the mouse droppings.

So, thanks for being someone who reads. Keep it up. I'd hate to see the tribe smote.

© Geoff Crunick 2013