History is just like sex - you wouldn't be here without it, and neither would I.

Welcome, distinguished visitor, to the Magic Theatre (madmen only; price of admission your mind).


Not really.  Do feel free to congratulate yourself on being well-read if you can cite the source of that line, however.  In all seriousness, welcome to "From The Files of Believable Baker", the official blog of Kevin Baker, ELCA seminarian.  If you know me in real-time, you know that I'm the kind of guy who is....1.  usually up to something (good, bad, or ugly), and 2.  never without thoughts, opinions, and occasionally earthy outbursts about life, God, the world, politics, philosophy, literature, and booze, often in collusion with one another.  I also happen to be a good little Irish-American who already had a way with words before kissing the Blarney Stone in 2006 while on pilgrimage to the Emerald Holy Land, and has not found this tendency diminished in the subsequent years.  So, why NOT enter the blogosphere (again)?  Why NOT subject you, o most noble reader, to my rants and raves, to my insights and opinions into the inner workings of all manners of things, to my rather unique sense of phrasing and rather droll outlook on life?  Why NOT, dear reader - why the hell not?


And so a new little blog is born somewhere off in a quiet little corner of the internets, a new ship sets sail across the high seas of cyberspace.  "But why the name?," you might be asking yourself.  Well, for starters, I'm honest.  I am perhaps too honest for my own good, at moments.  So, yes, there is that - this member of the Baker family is one whose word you can take to the bank.  Beyond that, however, is history - I am the third man-child of the Baker clan to bear this title proudly.  The first - my grandfather, Steve.  During the 1972 strike at Dow Chemical's complex in Freeport, Texas, the first Believable Baker documented the oft-crazy goings-on inside the plant as the non-union workers attempted to keep North America's largest single company chemical plant complex running.  My father, John Robert, became the second Believable Baker during his time in the Air Force and with the Alexandria, Virginia Police Department as he helped chronicle the oft-crazy goings around him.  And so, now - it's time for the next generation to take up the proud family banner and let it fly, stretched proud against the winds of time...or something suitably pretentious and dramatic.


So, my friend, I invite you to follow me on my brash, bold, and perhaps even blustery journey through the uncharted waters of all my tomorrows, as I courageously keep on calling 'em like I see 'em.  Is it pretentious to assume I have something to say worth reading?  Probably...but hey, what's a little pretense between friends, right?