ALMOST (kinda, sorta, maybe, okay not really) FAMOUS . . .

So I Googled myself the other day. (Yeah, like you’ve never done that.) I was just curious to see if I’ve been up to anything interesting. Turns out, I’ve got a video on YouTube! Who knew? Not me, that’s for sure. If I’d a known I’d have A. already written a blog post about it and B. shared it with everyone I know. Which I did right after I discovered it and it’s gotten fourteen hits so far (I don’t know a lot of people) though three or four are from me “accidentally” pushing the play button a few times so those probably shouldn’t count.

The video is a four-minute long shot of me reading an excerpt and answering questions about my short story Real Life at the book launching for the Lake Region Review #3 which was published last October. I knew they were taping it for possible use on their website but never imagined they’d actually use it. It was a bit of a shock watching myself on the computer at work home.

“Who is that person?” I said as I watched myself read like robot while gesturing like a deranged orangutan. I don’t even remember saying the words that dribbled out of my mouth and do I really laugh like that?!

When I was in 7th grade we had to write out what we wanted to be when we grew up. I hunched over my paper to ensure none of my peers could read my deepest, darkest secret. I wrote: I want to be famous. I don’t care what for; I just want everyone to know who I am. A big, red flag to any teacher who reads that now-a-days but my teacher just scratched across the page Good Luck! Looking back, I think there was a sarcastic slant to her penmanship.

As I’m now past the half-century mark, I think my chances of achieving this dubious noble goal is beyond my reach. Everyone and their mother has a video on YouTube and if one pins their hopes on getting their 15 minutes of fame this way they are about 15 minutes too late. Which in cyber-time is, like, a thousand years. Besides, fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You can’t go grocery shopping and forget about eating in a restaurant what with the autograph hounds and the paparazzi sticking their cameras up your . . . well, remember Britney Spears? Who needs that.

I guess there’s a shot I could still be a famous writer but I keep checking my stats on Amazon and let’s just say, if it wasn’t for my mom I wouldn’t have boosted my rank up to 1,000,000,000. I am still holding out hope that I’ll be caught on someone’s camera phone doing something inappropriate heroic so I’m always on the lookout for situations where I can get a little exposure be a beacon of light in this hurricane call life.

Since I’ve resigned myself to ordinary person status, I guess I can focus on my other unseemly lofty goal of being rich. Unfortunately, that would involve, like, working really hard and I don’t want to compromise my principles.

I guess I’ll just have to keep my eyes and ears open and hope the Fates throw me a bone or at least guide me down the path I’m destined to follow. . .

Hey, I just did something unfortunate with that last batch of brownies! Why is there never a schmuck with camera around when you need them. . .


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