There’s a lot of pressure put on your first time. It’s supposed to be a special moment that you prepare for and cherish for all your life. Often in reality, it’s a rather forgettable experience that comes and goes far too soon. And for that really unlucky high school girl, it’s a moment that she’ll remember for better or worse for the rest of her mothering life.
The same can often by applied to writing. Most writers’ first pieces aren’t good; often terrible. Hemingway didn’t write A Farewell to Arms in his 20s. His first drafts were most likely written with his carnal inhibition’s in mind through a haze of inebriation and stiff smoke.
However, the Internet has changed how one is remembered. Everything is written in ink and etched in stone.
My first story still lives on in the ever-living medium of the Internet. A young Jay Lauer penned a poorly misinformed metaphor-ridden review of why Chevy Avalanche drivers are asshats. It lives in a phase where I ran in the lines of internet journalism snark and Top Gear rip-off analogies. Ripping one in ‘bro culture’ seems brave on the surface except literally everyone on the Internet is doing it. The bro is not deterred by what the keyboard hero has to say about him.
Or so I thought.
I penned this article in November 2013 using information from Wikipedia and images from Google, like a proper journalist. As memory serves me, the whole piece consumed about an hour of my time in between what was most likely masturbation sessions. After, I clicked that Oppositelock home button every minute to see the overwhelming praise of my very first piece of Internet car blog fluff.
Not the overwhelming positive response I was looking for, but at least he did prove my article’s claim completely. A series of positive and indifferent comments followed and then the article took it placed buried by tomorrow’s stories, never to be heard from again.
Starting in 2015, I began receiving random, periodic comments to the long-dead Avalanche article. Some indifferent, some fact-correcting (I needed that) and some far more amusing.
It was very perplexing. This throwaway article seemed to rile the cargo shorts of the country’s Avalanche owners. I even was accused of being a bro myself as if being betrayed by one of their own.
It’s like accusing anti-gay blogger of being secretly gay. This struck me more as projecting so I decided to do some Internet sleuth work. Unbeknownst to me, the article had grown in it’s SEO in the rapidly growing category of Chevy Truck Male Porn. My article is Google’s first result for ‘Avalanche Asshat’ and ‘Chevy Avalanche Asshat’, which isn’t very surprising. However, the article is also the first Google result in ‘Avalanche Ass’ and ‘Chevy Avalanche Ass’. Why someone would be searching those terms? I’ll let you hypothesize.
Actually, no. I’m going to paint the picture myself. The average Avalanche owner is sitting in his double-wide sipping on a Keystone Light resting off that hard day of Flaming Hot Cheetos and YouTube commenting. Getting a bit of a buzz, he treats himself to a new Incognito window and begins a Google search for a some well-oiled firefighters or construction workers flexing on a Chevy Avalanche: The truck of rugged, dependable, muscular, steamy men. Before he can hit the Images tab, he sees my article. Muscle memory kicks in and the need to defend his innate masculinity becomes top priority and fending off the trail of his own insecure homosexuality.
Or I’m completely wrong. Probably that.
So will the ballad of the ‘Chevy Avalanche Asshat Owners’ article ever end? Probably not. As long as there are Avalanche owners and fans out there looking for a piece of ass, there will always be a new rock thrown through my digital window.