“Blessed is he who expects nothing for he shall never be disappointed.”
Cantankerous Old Coots has been an engaging journey. It’s been well over a year since Justin started this blog and I jumped into water way over my head trying to save him from his folly. Along the way we’ve tried a few things that we thought might be crowd pleasers. We developed Coot’s lessons to help the cantankerously impaired develop their full potential as coots. We even started Cantankerous Old Coots University (COCU) for serious students of cantankerosity, anticipating a mad rush for enrollment. We thought Coots would serve as a meeting place for square pegs sick of squeezing into round holes, a community of Coots exchanging spirited comments.
So much for plans!
Well, that’s not quite how it turned out and being the anal-retentive control freak I am, I keep asking why. Coot’s is a successful blog if you care about visitors and page reads. It has a credible Alexa score and is approaching 500 visitors per day. Reasonable people might ask what I am fussing about. Reasonable people should piss off. By any measure of blogging success, COC stands up well. We are clearly doing something right. We don’t have a clue what it might be but maybe we should just stop fussing and relax. Still, there are those darn expectations. Where is the adulating crowd of readers eager to share the glory by leaving a comment? Where is the hungry crowd of Coot wannabes eagerly lapping up the Coots lessons and enrolling in COCU?
Is this all there is?
Bob, the newest Coot, is unperturbed even as he credits the new Coot’s podcasts with driving the recent growth spurt. Bob sees the future in podcasts and video casts and is well on his way to conquering the yurt niche on the web so maybe he is right. All I know is that success is a different animal than I expected. It isn’t warm and cuddly. It doesn’t make you feel secure and confident like a dog that slobbers all over you when you come home at night. Success is more like a big buffalo running inexplicably through your tiny china shop. It doesn’t love you. It doesn’t pay any attention to what you want and if you aren’t really careful, it will pound you into the ground.
If I was smart, I would just relax and ride it out but I am cursed with the need to understand and manage. And when the outcome isn’t what I anticipate I get my panties in a bunch. It’s a curse but that’s just the way I am. I just have to figure out one way or another why success is different from what I expected. Why can’t I just smile and enjoy the ride? It beats me. I suppose that’s what makes me a Cantankerous Old Coot. What’s your excuse?