You'd Know What a Drag It is To See You

As the Anonymous Commenter noted last Tuesday, Running Down a Dream has a long, long way to go in establishing some type of presence in the African Blogosphere. As I began to ponder that pressing issue, my initial inclination was to cast blame towards the African blog-readership and their stubborn refusal to join the illustrious Jeff Pearlman in reading my blog. After that brief and fleeting moment of personal vitriol, I paused for reflection, assessed the situation in the most objective manner possible and came to one very sobering conclusion, my dear readers.

The problem does not lie with the average blog reader in Addis Ababa, Cairo, or in Pretoria. No, ladies and gentlemen, the sole source of blame is your (self) esteemed author, yours truly. After a quick calculation, I determined that I've only written to you 18 times since I made my way to the Most Populous City in Texas on May 11th. This pathetic total represents not only a personal humiliation, but it represents the pain that I must bear in knowing that you, the ever-faithful reader, have retired to bed all too often in the past month and a half without your daily dose of whatever it is that you come here seeking. I can ignore the cries of a wounded blogosphere no longer.

This, my friends, is the day of my return. The day of my re-commitment to the ideals that made this blog (barely) great in the halycon days of old. In the future, when the legends of this day are recounted to young and old alike, it will be said that the benevolent editor-in-chief of Running Down a Dream listened to the agonizing demands of his people and responded with decisive action.
Welcome back.