I’m back in Philadelphia with my parents and brother for the holidays, which means hilarity (see: absurdity) is ensuing in every direction. Tonight at dinner my mother announced that my father, some time ago, managed to piss off his brother by telling him how many more Google hits I have than him. The result: they two have barely spoken over the past few years. The past few years.
Granted, my father all but admitted the way he’d phrased his announcement (itself totally unprompted) was, “Ha, my daughter is more successful and popular than you!” Still, the idea of my uncle, a very wealthy telecommunications executive, getting multi-year angry over my Google hits warms my heart. Is that weird? Ah yes, one more high-powered, middle-aged man taken down by the powers of a twenty-something female sex columnist. It wasn’t even a fair fight: 27,000 to a mere 6,000.
Not that I’ve never played Google fight myself — and done the petty, petty dance of victory when the numbers come up in my favor. “What’s that, undergrad professor who thinks writing students don’t deserve respect as producers of valid creative work? Oh look, I have more Google hits than you. Guess who’s the better-known author now.” Yeah, I didn’t say I was magnanimous.
Anyways, Happy New Year! May you have tolerable times with your respective loved ones, and may all of your resolutions be ambitious but not particularly disappointing when you forget to care about them by the end of January.