Being Number One - a bloggers dream!

In the height of summer, when the heat haze rises from the lake, the insects buzz and the gods of politics doze, we get a rash of polls, rankings and general silliness. And, secure in the knowledge that my blog is by far the most deserving of accolade (a sentiment shared by my dedicated followers – or at least the three of them who can read); I thought I’d make an observation. Not as to who I’ve voted for in the Total Politics Poll (it was an agonising decision as to whether to go for political balance with the resulting decision being that no-one who thinks Government is anything other than a wasteful bunch of self-serving, interfering fussbuckets got my vote), nor whether I should nominate the same list in the loony left’s “worst blog” poll.

Instead, I shall speculate about how it feels being Number One. Now remember that – other than my childhood when I had two younger brothers to dominate – I have very little experience of first place (and even that was moderated by having a big sister). However, I have a very vivid imagination and can speculate on the feeling of victory – standing on the podium (even the metaphorical podium of bloggerdom), champagne bottle in one hand, trophy in the other as I delight in my vanquishing of lesser folk. The smugness that flowing from my body will be almost palpable – verging on a material thing.

And being Number One will bring other rewards – TV appearances, magazine interviews and a flood of new readers – some groupie-like in their desire to be close to me in that virtual bubble of minor celebrity. Others will ape my style, search for the simple truth – the genius, if you will – that lies behind my elevated status. And I shall bask – no, wallow – in the mud hole of Number One.

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