Chasing Fame
Chasing fame. It’s an odd passion. But it occurs to me that everything I’ve done in my life has been in service to that notion. From the first newspapers I sold as a child to Marines at 29 Palms through every job I’ve ever held since, I’ve either sold or helped to sell something. That’s what companies do. They want to be famous. Known. And they want people to give them money. Anyone working for them, in any capacity, helps to fill that mission.
It’s simple in its essence. We need things to live. Once upon a time we bartered for them or grew them. The land upon which I now live once upon a time grew food for my great-grandparents and housed a milk cow and hens. Then, over time, a little trade became a big trade and most of us ended up working for money, helping someone chase fame, and maybe trying to become famous for our abilities to help them chase fame and make money. In the end, it’s all the same.
Now here I am in my golden years still watching the metrics, looking at the numbers, trying to find readers for my words. Some purists might say, “Write, the readers will come.” But is a quiet sound enough in a world of noise to attract attention? Perhaps, but a quiet sign helps. So, we shall see. My press is making efforts in that direction, which is nice. A couple of its videos scored well and more will come. And we’ve changed the graphics, and people seem to like that. As for me, I’ll just keep on keeping on. Besides, at this point, it’s no longer life or death. It’s simply life. And I write because I enjoy it.