All about modest me

Going through my referrer logs this morning, I noticed a bunch of people coming in from Michael Allen's thought-provoking Grumpy Old Bookman, "A blog about books and publishing, aimed at both readers and writers. Listed by the Guardian as one of the top ten literary blogs." GOB has been one of my daily reads for several months, and I've quoted him here a couple of times.

Curious, I cruised over there and found that today he's posted a blog entry all about me. Yeah. Go figure.

I know what you're thinking. Right now you're wondering why all these classy, erudite guys keep coming to my blog. Well, I have a theory about that. I believe that the classy, erudite guys who lead well-balanced lives must occasionally intersperse their deep, important thoughts with flotsam. It's difficult for me to imagine Terry Teachout, for example, reading the back of a cereal box, but I'll bet he does that on occasion. Just as he occasionally glances at my blog to see if I've accidentally said anything worth quoting at About Last Night. I guess it's bound to happen from time to time because I'll write about anything and everything and I tend to deal in volume, which surely must increase the odds of accidental profundity.

But here's a giggle. Look what The Bookman wrote:

Brenda was much too modest to include a link to her own blog, so I went and found it.

Okay, all right. That's enough. Everybody pick yourselves up off the floor and dust off your backsides and stop laughing at that part about Brenda being modest. As it happens, I am accidentally modest at least as often as I'm accidentally profound. The fact that I can't think of any examples at the moment proves nothing.

I'm grateful for the attention, Mr. Bookman, and I don't think you're grumpy at all. I think you're a sweetheart.