Ode to Dooce

Thursday night, I went to Borders in Oakbrook for Heather B. Armstrong’s book signing. Armstrong writes under the pseudonym “Dooce.” If you haven’t heard of either, I must ask: have you ever heard of “blogging?” Dooce is a fucking legend amongst bloggers. Read her shit. Hilarious. I want to be her, except for the whole “having a vagina” part.

If you are unfamiliar with her work, I will summarize: Dooce.com popped off in February 2001. She was canned from her job as a graphic designer due to the content of her blog: she wrote rather unflattering things about her boss. Since then, she has risen to the cream of the blogging crop. Dooce has written about the experience of her first pregnancy, her battle with postpartum depression, family life and poop. The results have incredibly entertaining.

Dooce’s second book, “It Sucked and Then I Cried: How I Had a Baby, a Breakdown, and a Much Needed Margarita,” dropped Tuesday. Two days later, she brought her beautiful, pregnant ass to an estrogen-fueled crowd in DuPage County, Illinois.

If you are familiar with the concept of a “sausage fest,” this was the polar opposite. The store was so charged with estrogen, I feared that I might grow breasts.

My girlfriend (herein referred to as “boqueen”) and I sat side-by-side, listening intently as Dooce read an excerpt from her book. While I was delighted to be there, I took the alpha male stance of pretending that my girlfriend had dragged me along, kicking and screaming like a child with colic.

At least 600 boobs (300 women, give or take) were in the crowd. We listened intently as Dooce told a story about breastfeeding and her anxious relationship with her newborn child.

I was overcome with a sense of awe. Here I sat in a bookstore, listening to a woman talk about breatfeeding. Dooce hasn’t lived an extraordinarily life but she can tell a damn good story. I laughed at every third sentence as Dooce showed us why she earns six figures blogging..

Fucking amazing.

::

For years, I have read about the “new media landscape” – how big media companies no longer functioned as the gatekeepers for content, how the Interwebs had created a democratization of content providers. This concept had always seemed ahead of its time. However, listening to Dooce tell stories about her experiences as a new mother – something that billions of women have experienced – made me realize that the concept of content “democratization” had come to fruition.

After all, I was among a crowd of hundreds listening to a normal white chick talk about breastfeeding. The large audience hung on every word she spoke. There is nothing exceptional about Dooce’s story. She just tells her story better that you could.

Dooce is not a celeb because she sang an over-produced pop song, starred in a movie or leaked a sex tape. Her work is not in a major magazine, nor is it is syndicated by the Associated Press. To hell with tradition – Dooce’s shit is popular because she’s great at what she does; the folks surfing the Interwebs eat it up.

Thank you, Mrs. Armstrong. What I meant to say is that you are an “inspiration.” I choked on the word because I was in awe. If blogging were basketball, you would be Michael Jordan. If blogging were porn, you would be Ron Jeremy. If blogging were unfunny, you would be Jim Belushi.

::

Afterwards, boqueen and I sat in line, waiting for an hour to have a very brief personal moment with Dooce. We both posed for pictures with her; boqueen had her copy of Dooce’s book signed. “I am a writer too,” boqueen told Dooce, “I fully intend to be a SuperBlogger like you when I grow up.”

Then, I took my opportunity to fail. “You are a huge inspiration,” I said. However, I struggled to properly pronounce the word “inspiration,” my nerves and excitement made me sound as if I were fresh off the boat.

I normally end my posts with something smarmy and angry-sounding. I will make a rare exception and end on a positive note.

Heather B. Armstrong, thank you. If not for you, I would have quit writing a long time ago.

2 responses to 'Ode to Dooce'

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1. I have been a follower of Dooce a long time, you can thank me for dragging boqueen into this blogging mess…

   haha

   Scott

   03.31.09 05:43 AM

    

2. Aw how sweet and sentimental.

   I LOVE dooce.

   miz chartreuse

   03.31.09 03:43 PM

    

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