Almost Famous
Posted by Evan on Tuesday, 7 November 2006 at 12:24 pm
In a post back in March I talked quite a bit about my reasons for blogging, however, what I didn’t really address were the complications that stem from making such open and public admissions about my life.
Many of you who read this blog have met me during my travels, and of those who have, quite a lot of you feature in my stories. My audience over time, however, has grown to include many more people whom I’ve never met, and until recently, never thought I’d meet.
Over a month ago, while attending the Earthdance Festival in Melbourne, I got something of a surprise. While queueing up for a beer in a sand-pit I was approached by a woman in her mid-twenties, who walked right up to me, stopped, and gave me a very considered look. “You’re Evan, right?” she said, after a short pause.
In general, I’m pretty poor with names and faces, so as I looked blankly back, I racked my mind for even the slightest hint of recognition. “I don’t know you, do I?”
“You have a website… Where In The World Is Evan .com, right?” she said.
After getting over the initial shock of my first ever public recognition I prompted her for some details. Apparently, while googling for information about blue meanies she’d found my blog. After reading a few articles, she followed the links to the photo gallery, and after browsing for a while, found a recent photo of me. Considering where I live, and the relatively small number of people who share my interests, she presumed that it was only a matter of time before she ran into me at a party—and low and behold, there I was standing in a sand-pit, queuing for a beer
Before my ego even had a chance to begin inflating, she pressed on…
“Yeah, look I’m really sorry to just come up to you like this. I mean, I’m sure it happens to you all the time, and you’re probably quite sick of it by now. But I really liked your blog.”
Despite the loud protestations of many self-righteous bloggers, we all do this, to some degree, for the approval of our audience. Indeed, why make your thoughts public in the first place if you are not interested in having them read?
As such, I was hugely gratified by this most unexpected turn of events. It was only later that I considered the far reaching implications of being “almost famous”.
Using my experience as a former web developer I conducted a survey of the major search engines, to find out how they rank my site. Search Engine Optimisation (SEO) is not something I’ve ever really bothered with for my blog, so I was quite surprised to find how highly it ranked on some engines. What was of great concern was the ease with which my blog could be found based on relatively simple search queries relating to my employment history and other publicly know information.
As unashamed as I am about my actions and life choices, my current employer, and doubtless any future employer, would have issues with someone like me being on staff—particularly in a teaching or mentoring capacity.
As such, I’ve taken a couple of small precautions. Some minor revisions have been made to past articles to stop search hits against the more obvious queries, and my photo gallery has been moved off site, to Flick-r.
There’s always been a fine line between prudence and paranoia, however, when dozens of people continue to query the ownership of my domain, through services like http://www.whois.sc/, it’s best to err on the side of caution.
Comment from Jude G
Posted on Thursday, 14 August 2008 at 12:43 am
Hi there Evan
You may possibly, in perfect post-remonstrance paranoia, consider me a stalker at this point. Yes, it was me who bitterly laments approaching you queing for the bar at Earthdance. I admit I’m unsure as to whether in the flesh you shine against that superb-human blogging alter ego…but it seems those heady days have passed, regretably perhaps due to that very encounter with the mushroom googling stranger. Yes, your feigned attempt to deny egoistic pleasure in being ‘almost famous’is quite adorable, but to end your expose of our pre-destined acquaintance (I promised my housemate it was feted we meet)in utter colossal contraction was more than disappointing. I admit that the fantastical image which had so become you in my unfettered imagination saw you elevated beyond even what your gayous, polygamous, pipe-laden, chemical ways may merit, but to be devoured by the auspices of middle class surveillance paranoia…All drama aside, why, why, why, have I incessantly deplored did I make that painstakingly considered, though you painted it brash, decision to reveal myself to you. I could have smeared myself in all manner of mental masturbation, with voyouristic aplomb, in order to have my way with you in the freedom of my mind. Alas, it cannot be true that one chance meeting could leave me insanely insatiated, pictorially defunct, and worse I fear forever censorially blogged.