Let me say here and now that I love having followers.
It makes me feel all warm and wanted, important too. Every time a new follower signs in I do a little gurgle of pleasure, and every time somebody unfollows me, I sigh deeply, unhappily, and question my reason for being – for being a blogger, that is, not the general sort of being on this earth.
In the greater scheme of things, I am the most unnecessary invention, a totally irrelevant speck of dust on the sole of creation’s boot. My continued presence hardly even merits a footnote in the annals of my own family, much less in anybody else’s. Beloved would probably miss me – there’d be nobody to ask “what are we doing for dinner today?” The kids are too busy to bother, they are the centre of their own universe, as is the way of the world; the ancient crone known as Mum is surplus to requirements. I bet they already dread the day when they are faced with the task of putting me away somewhere suitable, where I can drool and dribble, click and suck my teeth and have incontinence problems. I am planning to pretend not to know them anymore when that happens, or, at the very least, I’ll get all their names wrong.
The above does not mean that I am depressed, no more than on a good day anyway; no, I see it as a pretty accurate description of the human condition generally.
But, I digress, the point of this post is to address my followers. So, where was I?
First of all, dear people, thank you very much for being my followers. I really appreciate it, That goes for those of you who only want to sell me something too; I am not proud.
Obviously, the followers I like best are those who leave their name and calling card, i.e. blogging address, and if you are amongst those who comment too, you have earned my undying gratitude. Besides, I probably follow you too and the whole thing is a bit like a mutual admiration society. Everybody's happy, at least I hope so.
Then there are followers who leave an address, but never comment. To begin with, I visit your blogs, introduce myself and leave a comment wherever possible. If there is no feedback, I will eventually stop visiting.
Next come the followers who leave their name, but no forwarding address.
Your blogs are barred to me unless I sign in and apply for membership. Well, how do I know I can? You might be an axe murderer, or worse, the Smith Family blog, detailing every burp and belch, every tooth and cute new lock of hair in little Johnny's life, which makes your blog such a riveting read.
As you by and large never leave a comment, I have no means of getting back to you, and as I am curious enough to visit every follower, every blogger who leaves a comment, and everyone who gets in touch, at least once after the initial contact, we might both miss out.
Last, and most certainly least, come the anonymous followers. There are, of course, exceptions, where somebody is with a different blog host and can only follow anonymously. To those of you my special thanks, it must be quite a palaver to do that. I consider your presence a great compliment.
But the genuinely anonymous followers I simply don't understand. Do you actually read the blog? A blog name flashes up when I point the cursor at you but that is all there is. Are you blogging at work and can't afford to be traced? Are you blogging against the wishes of your nearest and dearest? Do you actually not have a blog at all but would still like to be part of blogland? Are you spies?
Do tell, one or two of you, if you can, curiosity is a weakness I prefer not to overcome.
What I really hope will not happen is that I will now see a spate of unfollowings - that's what blogger calls it - . You really wouldn't want to break my heart, would you? Just when we are beginning to get to know each other.