On Wednesday, October 14, 2009, Restaurant Gal reached an all-time high of page views–850-plus in a single day. I have no idea why. I have no idea if RG surpassed that number in prior years before I kept stats. I do know that it matters not so much. One day, 437 people peek in, and several peruse the archives; on another, 89 folks read my latest post, and no one cares a bit to peruse what was posted the week before. Again, I have no clue why.
And in many ways, I care a little; but just as much, I don’t care a lot.
For almost five years I have anonymously posted my stories, some being more personal than others, all crafted out of a labor of love for an activity–writing–that has been the one thing I have always found to be an incredible release, incredibly satisfying and absolutely as natural as breathing.
On the one hand, I envy one of the best writers and photographers out there–Kim Ayres–who posts beautifully constructed writing and equally captivating photos–all under his real name, no secrets from which to hide.
I have toyed with “outting” myself more than once over the years. Hell, back in D.C. I was very much outted one year, but it didn’t seem to matter to anyone; well, except it did matter a great deal to my employer at the time, and I faced what seemed to be a serious moral and agonizing personal choice to make–keep writing RG as I always had, or quit.
I quit. The job, that is. I would have quit, anyway. I sucked at the job I had been given as assistant manager, although I know I did well for the restaurant in other ways. Hell, I can book private dining space like no one else on this planet. Seriously.
Thus, today, as I had my third recent freelance article accepted by one of several publications in the non-blog world, I suddenly wondered, what would it be like to just post on RG as me. Just me. After all, writing this blog has kept my writing sharp and quick. Without it, how could I have pounded out these three articles in such short and concise fashion?
What would it really be like to say, “Here’s who I am, here’s where I live and work. Welcome to my written world.” Would I suddenly have 850 readers every day? Would my suddenly public blog help me to broaden my published writing credentials? Would any of that work well for me business-wise?
Of course, I had to laugh at myself at that point in my thoughts. Really? You, I said to myself, you really think the 89 people who found you last Tuesday actually wonder about who you really are? As an aside, I always ponder these seemingly important issues as I run three or four miles down the Old Road with head phones plugged into my ears blaring the best of all the music I consider “mine.”
So tell me, my 89 or 850 readers? Does it matter whether you know me or not? Would you miss me tomorrow if my anonymous writing went missing next week? Would you care less–or more–if you could put a real name to my face?
Really. I’m just curious.