Blogsumer Confidence

Citizen's Bank wants you to know that there's still loans and credit available for your small business.

Toyota wants you to know that their engineers are hard at work, toiling around the clock to figure out ways to prevent your Camry from becoming the Herbie Antichrist.

When consumer confidence gets shaken, companies with a lot to lose often spend some serious advertising dollars on feel-good, security-blanket-covered ads that are supposed to let us know that, yeah, they know they've fucked up-- but they're working on it. With these commercials in mind, I thought I'd send a little message out there to my readers because, really, we're not immune from feeling insecure or fearful of the future. Right?

Dear "My Masonic Apron" Readers:

These are troubling times.

The blogosphere is awash in a sea of witticisms, snarkitude, YouTube clips, "Lost" commentary, and banal stories about how so-and-so blogger encountered thus-and-such homeless guy and had an inspirational experience, only to realize later that her wallet and iPhone were missing and she was now peeing seafoam green, with a red shank around her anus.

We cannot spend ten minutes in the blogosphere without reading the word "random" or the paraword "WTF," and we hunger for a blog post from a 20something blogger that does not include a quoted drunk text, a reference to Lady Gaga, or a bright pink background. Indeed, surfing the blogosphere is a dangerous and often thankless endeavor, and that is why I created "My Masonic Apron," as a place where we can all go for ribald rants and unfettered unction, and inquisitive individualism, unmarred by pictures of clowns or intoxicated chicks showing their left nipple or song clips from "The Black Eyed Peas."

But, lately, this blog has been failing you.

The posts have gotten shorter and perhaps more obtuse. My attention often wanders while I blog, and, while I would never disgrace you by blogging completely in the nude, I have found myself so absent-minded of late that, at times, I have observed that my fly is down mid-blog. And, while you couldn't possibly have known that, I feel that you are so observant, so tuned-in that you can't help but notice that something's up, even if you can't put your finger on it. You may not know exactly what the problem is, but you've got a hunch, and sometimes that's all Columbo, T. J. Hooker, and Mr. Tibbs had to go on.

Let's level with each other. You know one thing and one thing only: your blogsumer confidence has been shaken. And I know that you know, and now you know that I know. So, now: we know.

I want you to have my assurance, as the Chief Executive-Officer, Founder, Creator, and Almighty Exalted Uberominlordio Christifferous Leader of "My Masonic Apron," that underpaid East Indian technicians with unpronouncable names, outdated eyeglasses, and patchy facial hair are hard at work on this problem. They are working around the clock in their chambray shirts with visible wife-beaters and ambiguous gold chains embedded in countless layers of thick, black chest hair and will not stop working until this problem is solved. Our commitment to excellence has faltered, and, at times, cracked-- but we at "My Masonic Apron" have never promised perfection, and is not the Liberty Bell more beautiful for its cracks?

We think so.

Because, in these uncertain times, you deserve a better "My Masonic Apron."

A "My Masonic Apron" that consistently delivers-- on time, undamaged by sun, heat, or rain-- a "My Masonic Apron" that works for you, that's there when you want it, when you need it.

A "My Masonic Apron" that you can can be proud to tell your friends about, to speak about with your head held high in the confessional, to gleefully hyperlink to in your own blog, to admit that you read on your Blackberry under the tablecloth at banal family dinners and insuferable faculty meetings.

A "My Masonic Apron" you can follow with apron-waving pride.

You haven't gotten that "My Masonic Apron" lately, and we at team apron know that, and we're hard at work on a solution.

Trust us.