Sunday, July 27, 2014

The Nobel Prize for being me

I'd be lying if I said I didn't still want to be a famous writer, or at least known by people beyond my friends some day. I'm realistic enough to know the clock is ticking on that. And that I don't work hard enough most days to make that close to a reality.

But the older I get and the less likely it is to ever happen for me, the more I am accepting of it. Because it is the age of niche content and narrowcasting. And I have found my niche. All I care about (well, mostly care about, a check for doing what I love would still be nice) is that there is one person who thinks I am the funniest, most talented guy in the world.

She is likely delusional in this thought.

But that there is even one person whom I have touched in this way makes everything worth it. If there is never a second person who thinks (or may have thought) that I was the funniest, most talented person in the history of ever it won't have mattered.

We all spend so much time on this little blue ball wondering if anything we did ever mattered that much. In truth, all you have to do is touch one person deeply and it will all have mattered. I'll take that over all the bestseller lists and literary statue things there are (not that I would reject them if they were thrust upon me).