Today is the Tenth Anniversary of "My Ticket Confession"

Ah, Confessors.

A couple of years ago it dawned on me how long I've been doing this blog.

I thought to myself at the time -- I'll keep it going through ten years, then I'll decide.

Forgot about it.

Then looked at the calendar a couple of days ago, and there it was.

I wasn't ready to decide, and, truth to tell, I'm not ready now.

I mean, look at the damned thing.  I get something up maybe once a week, usually not even that often.  There's nothing much new to say about a station that doesn't change that much.  Even the JV have been pretty steady for awhile.

No scoops.  No scandals. No Ticket guys back-channeling me with a tidbit from inside.

Hell, I'm not even a Ticket influencer.

My first commenter?  Michael Gruber.

I look at the dashboard.  908 entries.  That's a lot; that's enough.  Several other Ticket blogs have come and gone, lasting at the most a few weeks before vanishing.  Ten years, that's a nice body of work.  And a nice round number.

But there's that nagging line item -- "Drafts (10)."  Items I've started and put aside for another day.  Some of it is stale, but there's material there for more articles.  And I've got a list of other ideas -- again, some out of date, but some could be freshened up for a new entry.

I've been teasing a big STD (Scorching Ticket Disquisition) for awhile.  It would be about BaD Radio, since I've been able to listen to more of it lately, and for some reason Confessors have the idea that I either dislike or have underappreciated it.  I don't think either is true, and I was going to write about it.

Note, however, that I haven't done it.

The Ticket is ten years older, and so am I.  My life has changed a lot -- O, my Confessors, a lot -- since I started this joint.  I still listen to The Ticket every chance I get and it still means so very much to me.   But I'm not sure I have much more to say about it, and my time -- ah, my time.   So much else going on I'd be happy to tell you about, but it would be of no interest to the Confessor.

But it would explain why I'm giving some serious thought to drawing shut the curtains on the confessional.

But not today.

So spare a good thought for My Ticket Confession and your faithful Plainsman, and wish us a happy tenth anniversary.

And -- of course -- Thank You for Shopping at My Ticket Confession.

Yeah, Mr. P, tell me what it's like to hang around for too long.

MTC Wishes Itself a Happy 7th

Please keep a good thought today for Your Source for Quality Ticket Journalism.  My Ticket Confession stumbled into this world mewling and howling and with no readers (except, apparently, Michael Gruber) on June 30, 2009.

I've very much appreciated your support and participation.  Ticket fansites and blogs come and go, but you've kept us in the game and kept me wanting to think up things to write about.

Still dealing with some personal matters but hope to have wrapped it up in the next 3-4 weeks.  In the meantime, keep those comments (and post offerings -- please) coming.

I suspect we will not get a mention on WTDS -- not even as a spare.  But we can still party.

Confest

How often do people check this site?  I'm about to find out, maybe.

Monday, June 30, is the semi-decennial anniversary of My Ticket Confession.

At 5:30 p.m., or nearby time of my choosing, I will be at The Barley House.

I will be delighted to introduce myself to any Confessor who drops by for the next hour or so thereafter.   

I won't have a mask on, or a bag over my head. 

No tricks.  I'll give you my real name, let you Ask Me Anything and might even answer.  But I hope we can just tahk Ticket.   If you would prefer not to identify yourself as a named Confessor, that is entirely up to you.

My sole request:  No photographs, please.

How will you find me?  I don't know.  I've never been to The Barley House.  I selected it because it seems Tickety, and because it is one of the many homes away from home – does he really have an actual home? – of one Michael Gruber, one of the very first patrons of this site, and its first commenter.

I could post a photograph, but what fun would that be?

I'll tell the barkeeps to direct anyone looking for The Plainsman to send him or her my way.  Hint:  I do not resemble Errol Flynn in "They Died with Their Boots On." 

Unless the crowd is too vast, the drinks will be on me, at least for awhile. 

Please, Confest-drink responsibly.

You are cordially invited to attend and raise a glass to five years of friendship.  

And to accept my personal thanks for shopping at My Ticket Confession.

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ThePlainsman1310@gmail

@Plainsman1310

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