Being Famous

 

The other day someone asked me how they could find my blog.  I told them to just look up my name, I was sure it would be listed.  They got back to me to tell me all kinds of things about yours truly that they found.  “You’re famous!” 

It made me wonder about that title.  Surely the meaning now is vastly different than it used to be.  Anything we do is immediately recorded and released onto the web, making us well know rather quickly.  But are we well known?  Or is the nature of the things we’ve done apt to put our names out there? 

I have a friend who does his best to get his name into anything he can.  He figures the best way to remain anonymous in this digital age is to stand in a snow storm of trivia.  According to his theory, the ones who truly stand out are the ones who are off the grid.  I think he wears an aluminum hat.

Before the net created the tropical storm of information that lifts simple sand high into the atmosphere, it took something of significance to make a dent in ‘being known.’  You might have been a big fish in the puddle of your world, but the major tributaries won’t pick you up.  Being known took some major water pressure.  Now, piddles make news.  Enough piddles, you’re known.  But by whom?  And for what?

When I preached last Sunday, the congregation wanted to know what to call me.  Chris and I smiled and started making a list of things people have called me.  David, Rev, The Rev, Pastor, Pastor David, Pastor Dave, Mac, Rev Mac … The list went on for a while.  It made me realize how many roles and resulting titles I have assumed.  But that doesn’t make me famous.  That makes me busy.  Are they synonymous? 

Lotsa questions.  Not many answers.  But I’ll tell you this:  I ain’t famous.  But that’s only according to me, and what do I know.  I’m just a retired old fart from North Carolina.