Finder's Remorse?
As most of you know, I've been a fan of Neil Gaiman's works for a long time. I suppose I didn't really start getting exposed to anything outside of Good Omens until college, but it was pretty early in college. And I tend to read biographies on the back pages of books and such, so I've always known he lived near Minneapolis. I've been talking to a woman who lives (on a dairy farm!) in the boonies of Minnesota (in a town of under 200 people). And I jokingly told her via email a few days ago that she should find Neil Gaiman's house for me.
This morning, I was reading Neil's blog, and that research itch hit me. So I thought, "I bet I can figure out what town Neil lives in; I'm good at this!"
In really short order, I find one web site with a list of sci-fi/fantasy authors, which notes the authors' towns. Wikipedia, in that town's entry, also agrees that Gaiman lives there. (Of course, it noted needing a citation, so that could be a false-confirmation.) A quick online search for "Gaiman" and the town name turn up bloggers who talk about having gone to high school with his kids. So, sure, I found his town, no problem. I feel vaguely proud of myself, except it was too easy.
So, on a lark, I turn to my address finding tools... I mean, what's the chance that an author who has even-crazier-than-usual fans would let himself be publicly listed? That'd just be silly.
Nope, there it was. No phone number, thankfully, but the total search for address took me minutes from when I first had the thought to find his town. I suspect, with another five minutes, I could tell you when he bought the house, how much he paid for it, what its appraised for these days for property tax purposes, and recent sales in his neighborhood. And all that other data that lives on the internet that most people seem to forget is there.
Most of you know that I do things like this a lot. Mostly for my amusement, or to see how much I can get to starting from how little data. Sometimes, other people ask me to run such a search for someone.
I think this is the only time where it's made me stop and think, "boy, *am* I one of those crazies?" It seems reasonable to think that the distance between me and the people who "miraculously" find themselves buying property across the street from the people they "idolize" or "love" isn't as great as the distance between me and those people who consider all of us on this side of that invisible line "scary".
But that makes me start to wonder... what defines me? Is this drive the same one that makes me thirst for my other knowledge? Without it, would be I be a 300-lb shadow of myself, still living with my mother in a dead end job?
I think that's why I'm so comfortable with my "quirks" (that are either eccentricities or neuroses, depending on your perspective and how much you charge an hour). I can't be me without them. Not only would I not be me, but I can't even detangle whether the person I would be without them would be someone I like, and I have the sinking feeling that he wouldn't be.
This morning, I was reading Neil's blog, and that research itch hit me. So I thought, "I bet I can figure out what town Neil lives in; I'm good at this!"
In really short order, I find one web site with a list of sci-fi/fantasy authors, which notes the authors' towns. Wikipedia, in that town's entry, also agrees that Gaiman lives there. (Of course, it noted needing a citation, so that could be a false-confirmation.) A quick online search for "Gaiman" and the town name turn up bloggers who talk about having gone to high school with his kids. So, sure, I found his town, no problem. I feel vaguely proud of myself, except it was too easy.
So, on a lark, I turn to my address finding tools... I mean, what's the chance that an author who has even-crazier-than-usual fans would let himself be publicly listed? That'd just be silly.
Nope, there it was. No phone number, thankfully, but the total search for address took me minutes from when I first had the thought to find his town. I suspect, with another five minutes, I could tell you when he bought the house, how much he paid for it, what its appraised for these days for property tax purposes, and recent sales in his neighborhood. And all that other data that lives on the internet that most people seem to forget is there.
Most of you know that I do things like this a lot. Mostly for my amusement, or to see how much I can get to starting from how little data. Sometimes, other people ask me to run such a search for someone.
I think this is the only time where it's made me stop and think, "boy, *am* I one of those crazies?" It seems reasonable to think that the distance between me and the people who "miraculously" find themselves buying property across the street from the people they "idolize" or "love" isn't as great as the distance between me and those people who consider all of us on this side of that invisible line "scary".
But that makes me start to wonder... what defines me? Is this drive the same one that makes me thirst for my other knowledge? Without it, would be I be a 300-lb shadow of myself, still living with my mother in a dead end job?
I think that's why I'm so comfortable with my "quirks" (that are either eccentricities or neuroses, depending on your perspective and how much you charge an hour). I can't be me without them. Not only would I not be me, but I can't even detangle whether the person I would be without them would be someone I like, and I have the sinking feeling that he wouldn't be.