Thursday, April 1
It's been a crazy week at work, and I might tell a few stories in a little bit. For now, I'd like to indulge in a little external introspection.
A year ago, I was king. I ego-search for my name every once in a while -- just for kicks -- and I'm disappointed about how far I've fallen.
For a long time, I was numero uno (or at least on the first few pages) whenever anyone looked for my name (Ryan Olson) on Google. That wasn't even my blog -- it was my lonely GeoCities page that I essentially dropped when Yahoo! dropped FTP access. Sadly those days are no more.
I was on top of the heap, top dog, and now where am I at? My first hit comes at around 107 (for a Picnic Day message I wrote four years ago). My oh-so-new RTOmedia.com clocks in at around 656 out of 6,890 hits. BTW, kudos to Gimpysoft -- that Ryan's all over the place.
Now what's sadder -- the fact that I rank so lowly in Google, or the fact that I'm whining about it?
So for now if anyone (and to be honest I don't know who) trying to find my site wouldn't go that route. I guess the one sense that I do get from digging through all those Ryan Olsons -- that range from athletes to programmers to possible offenders -- is the sense of wonder at how many different lives people with the same name are living. Of course they're not me, but there's a common bond solely because of the same name. That's been addressed in an episode of This American Life.
As I filter through the chaff of the other Ryans to find the wheat-y identity of myself, I come upon a few reminders of my past which stir emotions and deep memories that I don't often dwell on.
Some of the hits are off beat -- like Pep Band articles or meeting minutes of a story I covered. Still some are reminders of how utterly forgettable I am -- a comments page of a former collegiate newspaper colleague has my identity mistaken with another. Yet still others are reminders of dark chapters -- some message archive included some comments about decisions that were made at the Guardian.
It's those memories that upset me the most. I, like many others I think, have developed a positive version of themselves. These links to the past are reminders that we are not infallible. It's definitely a different perspective and one I'm not all that comfortable with at times.
Tuesday, March 30
Inspired by Homer Simpson's insipid (yet catchy) method of avoiding phone callers, my latest iTunes music store purchase is
by Dwight Yoakam. To avoid confronting someone on the phone, Homer pretended to be an automated phone system and he sung Wichita Lineman as the background music.
That's one code down, 23 more free songs to be redeemed. I've got two more caps at home waiting to be registered so I can buy 18 more Pepsi colas before the 31st.
Comments? ryan -at- rtomedia.com