Whatever happened to what’s-his-name? One minute he was there, and the next … POOF! He was gone.
Have you ever left your blog for a time and wondered if anyone was curious about what had happened to you?
We all step away from our blogs from time-to-time with the knowledge that when we return, our blogs will still be there, patiently waiting for us. But, what about our readers, will they?
For instance: Did my readers miss me?
After all, I’d been missing for nine months. In that time, did anyone wonder if I’d abandoned my blog in favor of working on a new one? Not that I’m sugessting that “Blogger” offered me a fortune to come write for them—but.
Or, were they thinking I left because I had to give someone the slip—maybe the IRS perhaps? May have to wait until April 15th—give or take a day or two—to know for sure.
Then again, maybe my readers were wondering if I was getting paid to write—under an nom de plume—for some legitimate (or even illegitimate) rag? If only I could say, handsomely.
Perhaps they were thinking I’d been abducted by aliens in a UFO for the purpose of being experimented on. Only to be proclaimed their supreme leader!
I declined, by the way.
Of course, there’s always the chance I was ordered to stay off of social media by some well known platform because my writing was nothing short of pure genius, and they were so jealous that they simply couldn’t stand it anymore?
Not that that’s exactly what happened.
There’s another possibility: The possibility that I took up residence at the local cemetery. Hopefully as a caretaker.
So after nine months away from my blog, I became curious about what questions my readers—who were still trapped here—were asking in regards to my whereabouts?
That’s when I broke into a new WordPress statistical page.
So top secret—not even WordPress knows about it yet!
And guess what I discovered?
I discovered that only 30% of you (what a relief) didn’t care where I went. And that another 62% of you had never even heard of me—or my blog.
Which left, the more morbid of you (around 8%), to wonder how I died.
That kind of speculation ran from the basic …”How DID he die?” to, “Was it a gruesome death?
Did they mean—as opposed to a more pleasant one?”
One guy, who lives in Columbia, even went so far as to claim I was thrown into an volcano as a human-sacrifice by jungle tribesmen—who were all on the WordPress payroll.
Another fellow believed I swallowed a whole cow and that that was how I’d met my demise.
It was a fishstick, Jose, not a whole cow—sorry to disappoint you.
A few of you, though, felt my absence was due to nothing more than having been worked to death by my employers, who wouldn’t hear of it—even if it were true.
And finally, there was Eddie (from Wikileaks) who suspected my WordPress account had been hacked—BY WORDPRESS.
Sure, it would have been easier to admit that I was abducted by aliens—who then tried to fry my brain.
But, that would have required my having to clear up why I was unable to gain access to their onboard computers—all antiquated Texas Instruments TI-99/4’s with dial up—and posting on my blog.
An adventure for another post—one I’m far too lazy to attempt right now.
In any event, Texas Instruments TI-99/4’s are hardly suitible for sending posts across the galaxy.
Which is why I decided against telling you about my abduction by aliens from Gravitar 4. A small, but significant rock located on the outskirts of our solar system—bent on our destruction.
There’s also the chance such a ridiculous story—no matter how true—would not have excused my prolonged absence.
Unless, you all felt I could get away it?
All the same, I haven’t told any whoppers since October of 72. That’s when I told the Air Force about Billy Preston—my arch enemy from the 5th grade—who stole one of their top secret plans—while we were on a field trip to Area 51.
Nothing more than a prank on my part. But, I never had to deal with Billy again!
In fact, I haven’t seen Billy since—nor has anyone else come to think of it. Wonder what he’s up to these days?
The important thing is I’m back and blogging again. And that’s all that really matters.