I know I’m still way too wrapped up in how many people read my posts and in how few of them actually “like” them. A true artist creates what he or she creates without regard to whether or not anyone will ever see it, much less like it. I’m not trying to imply that one should make the quantum leap of judgement to put me in the company of artists or even wordsmiths, I’m just saying I shouldn’t care…but I do, and I hate myself for it.
True to form, I spend way too much time checking my stats. Looking to see how many people read me, and which of my posts are getting the most hits. For the life of me, I don’t understand the success of Life Lessons From Gilligan’s Island, but there’s no accounting for taste.
There is an issue which I’ve recently discovered. One which has thought-gremlins prancing around feverishly in my head. WordPress has a map feature and it tells the writer how many readers he has on a given day all over the world. I’m embarrassed to admit that were it not for the coloring-in of the countries, I’d be hard-pressed to figure out where in the world some of them are actually located. As it happens, my posts were pretty big in Macedonia for a while. I had no idea where it was, but I’ve always been a big fans of their nuts.
In any case, the country demographic piece has a hole in it. When adding up the hits in the various countries, the totals are not always the same as the overall number of hits, sometimes substantially less. The stat number says I’ve had 47 hits, but the country demographics only add up to 34. I can’t help but wonder where the other 13 hits are coming from, if not from the countries of the world. Possible explanations of where those phantom readers are located follow:
Ships at Sea – I know it sounds so 1940’s. I’m confident that even today, there are in fact ships at sea, though it’s hard to imagine that anyone on them is finding the time to read my blog, since there’s a rock climbing competition on the Lido deck, scrap-booking classes in the Slave Galleria, and a 24 hour chocolate fountain in the Spanish Doubloon Ballroom.
In orbit – Do astronauts have access to the world wide web thingy when they’re not in this world? Is there even a space station out there? Are there people on it? I’ve lost track.
Mole Men Living Beneath The Earth – I’m old enough to have been more than a little disturbed by that ancient Superman rerun. As long as we’re on the topic of childhood demons, I have to account for the possibility that the flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz may be reading my blog, though they didn’t strike me as particularly bookish.
China – I bet it’s China; they probably have some dark reason for not wanting us to know they’re reading me. Or maybe North Korea where reading my blog is punishable by public ridicule (instead of suffering privately like the rest of you folks)
Zombies and Poltergeists – Reading me from beyond the grave – I think it’s poltergeists – zombies would show up on the world map, as they lurch through the countryside looking for brains to eat. Lord knows, if they’re reading some of the stuff I write, they could use all the brains they can cram into their gaping maws.
People On Commercial Jets – Using electrical devices when they’ve been told not to. So eager to read my blog posts that they, along with Alec Baldwin, put others at risk and take the chance of pissing off the stewardess. I know some folks find me amusing, but is it worth risking honey-roasted peanuts and half a can of soda?
Space Aliens – Even though I’ve admitted to having never seen a Star Wars, Star Trek or Star 80 movie, I have to admit that it’s possible. I hope they like my humor, but not enough to abduct and probe me.