I don’t think I get very many young readers. By young, I mean, less than 30. I can tell “how many” people read this thing every day, but I don’t know anything about you. Not most of you, at least. Age is one of those things.
I often wonder who is reading.
Certainly, I could post an online data-gathering-form. You know, those kind that pop up out of nowhere, and ask you if you’d like to take part in a survey? At the end, those forms often ask about your demographics and such. That is really the point to them. Later on, they want to “gear” their advertising toward the readership. We are in America. Making the almighty dollar is the “American Way,” so it seems. Just ask the Saudis. Or the Russians.
Anyway, I’ve never advertised on my blog. Not once. I don’t make a red cent on this writing. By the way. A “red cent” is merely a penny. It is not Communist. It is not angry. It doesn’t mean stop. Not any of those “reds.” It was called a red cent because of its color. It used to be made entirely of copper. From 1793 to 1837. Now they are made mostly from zinc. Ha. Imagine if the penny were made of pure copper. I bet people would be picking them up off the sidewalks if that were the case.
But I digress, dang it. I don’t advertise here. It was sort of an oath to myself, a long time ago. Maybe “Oath” is too strong a word. After all, that is “a solemn promise, often invoking a divine witness, regarding one’s future behavior.”
I didn’t invoke any divine witnesses. As I recall, I was sitting in my kitchen, eating a turkey sandwich, with Hellmann’s mayo on white bread, when I made the decision. I think Wheel of Fortune was on the TV. There was something about Pat and Vanna that day, that played in the decision. It could have been the puzzle-solve: IT’S A BARGAIN.
It’s a bargain. I’m not sure that is true here. But a lot of us look for bargains, in life. Getting something for free, or paying less for the thing, than what it is worth. I’m not a big bargain-hunter. I never have been. Maybe it is because of the way I was raised. My Mom was relentless with coupons when we grew up. And I was the sidekick. I had to clip and file. And then on grocery day, I had to hunt. Once I was old enough to be responsible for my own shopping, I took the Oath Of No Coupons. Again, with the Oath thing? What is it with me and oaths?
I eat Oath-Meal every morning. Maybe that is it.
But now I am really off topic. I was going to talk about young readership, and how I might drum up some interest. Like telling them things that might be useful in their young lives. Like. It officially takes 364 licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop. Or, it is completely legal to bury someone in your backyard. You just have to make sure the zoning is okay. The Cookie Monster’s real name is Sid. AND, you’re twice as likely to be killed by a vending machine than a shark. All of this. Good for old and young alike.
And here we go again.
Another day, another dollar.
You have to accept the fact that sometimes you are the pigeon, and sometimes you are the statue. — Claude Chabrol
There are in fact two things, science and opinion; the former begets knowledge, the later ignorance. — Hippocrates
The fact is that when you do something from your heart, you leave a heart print. — Alice Walker