Secret Ingredients and Secret Identities

Last weekend, I made my way up to the the Stormville Airport Antique Show and Flea Market, in upstate-ish New York. I’d never been, and was pleasantly amused (by the wares and the wackiness of vendors and patrons alike) for the 3 hours or so I was there.

One of my favorite stalls had a cookbook table where I found a masterpiece about “…The Lost Art of Cooking with your Grandmother’s Secret Ingredient”.
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I wanted to buy it, but my gallbladder convinced me to take home a gently used vegan cookbook instead.

Over the past few days, I’ve visited my camera roll for some reason or other, and I’ve opened up this photo, and it got me thinking about secret ingredients…if they’re so effective, and indeed, as in the case of lard – magical – then why must they remain secret? If you have something that makes something better, shouldn’t we share it with the world?

Of course, thinking about secrets got me thinking about blogging. I’ve visited many a blog since starting this one, and was grateful to find that there are many blogs whose authors are, for all intents and purposes, anonymous. There have been times when I wondered if it was possible to suss out the person behind the blog, but then I felt a weird sort of guilt, or hypocrisy. For one thing, I hide behind The Smell of My Own Poop. I’ve only ‘revealed’ my secret blogging to 3 people – who don’t actually regularly read it, so am still fairly under the radar.

My last post about vaginas was probably my most viewed post ever, and was provocative enough for one of the 3 people who know to actually call me to say “WTF?!?!” They weren’t so much offended, as they were surprised – was that my persona talking? Or was it me?

That’s the thing! I don’t think this blog is a persona. It sounds strange because blogging is so out in the open, but blogging is me thinking/wondering/being fascinated out loud, NOT performing for an audience. It sounds almost trite to say it might be a purer form of communication, but I’m certainly freer and less self-conscious here. You don’t know me in my day-to-day work or personal life, so you’re not hung up on trying to ‘get me’ in a specific ‘context’.

But, is Poop my secret identity? Or my secret ingredient? Is this blog about me lurking cowardly in the shadows of the interwebs? Or is it my lard – a venue, an outlet making me a better me?

There’s the rub. You probably can’t answer because you don’t know me beyond your screen. The people I know in ‘real life’ can’t answer because they’re not reading this. Oy.

You see, this is why I bought that vegan cookbook. It may be leaving me hungry and cranky, but at least it’s not sending me into a metaphysical tailspin.