OK, You Heard It Here First. It Was Me.

Given how much the WordPress blogging community means to me, I wanted you to be the first ones to know.

It was me.

The Wall Street Journal has an article in this week’s Mansion section with the headline:

Mystery Buyer Pays $157.5 Million for Two Condos on New York’s Billionaires’ Row

Well, mystery solved.

I know it seems a bit pricey, but the building has a pool, athletic club, and private restaurant.  And musician Sting and his wife live in one of the units. Those are all tough to pass up.

Now I know you are wondering how a teacher could afford such a property (actually two properties).

And you’re right, my teacher salary wouldn’t allow me to stay even one night in such a place.

It was my blog.

As many of you know, one of my most popular blog posts was one about the world’s largest tire manufacturer (if you don’t know, you’ll be surprised).

Anyway, one of the companies mentioned in the post contacted me and said they would like to feature my post in their promotional material, for $180 million.

I told them I’d have to think about it. I called back three seconds later and said it’s a deal if you throw in free lifetime tires for all my cars. They readily accepted, and a deal was made.

After signing the papers, we went house hunting, in New York City. My wife and I fell in love with 220 Central Park South. It is, after all, clad in Alabama Silver Shadow limestone. And it’s got Sting.

So we put an offer in for $157 million, cash, for the two properties, and we should know soon if the offer is accepted.

Assuming that it will be, I think one of the first things we will do is…

Excuse me, hold on a second. My wife is yelling something at me. I’ll be right back.

I’m back. Oops. Apparently, the offer from the tire company was for $180. I just assumed they meant millions, given how much revenue and profit they generate each year.

Now I’m embarrassed. But it’s too late to recant this post, since I’ve got nothing else in the pipeline.

So back to what I was trying to say before I was interrupted; one of the first things we were going to do when we moved in was to throw a party at the house, and invite all the people who follow my blog.

I’m sorry to disappoint you, but hopefully, someday I’ll be able to do throw that party…

P.S. There is no $180 – it’s all part of the fantasy world that I live in..

69 thoughts on “OK, You Heard It Here First. It Was Me.

  1. Hey, congratulations! $180 is nothing to sneeze at. That’s more than almost anybody makes from blogging, including me. So now you’re a professional blogger, but I hope you’ll still talk to us minions who are still in the amateur league.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. That’s an odd expression – nothing to sneeze at. For me, sneezing happens when it happens. I can’t summon a sneeze on demand. The best way I do know to increase my chances of sneezing is to mow the yard, that usually results in multiple sneezes. But, if someone offered me something, even if a small little something, and I sneezed at it, it would be entirely by accident.

      Now this has me worried. What if one day I am offered a million dollars and for some reason I sneeze at just that moment. What will they think? This guy doesn’t want this million dollars as he just sneezed at it. I rescind this million dollar offer, now be gone! So much for my dreams of having a million dollars.

      Anyway, gesundheit.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. My head feels a little stuffy today, and I suspect I shall have plenty of things to sneeze at soon, if this ailment progresses. Nonetheless, your critique of “nothing to sneeze” at left me cold. But I think it was well-written, so I fear it may go viral. I’ll wave a white handkerchief in surrender, because this idiom does seem idiotic. I even got nosy, and decided to research the origins of the old saying. It seems it comes from the 17th century, when a sneeze was considered a sign of disapproval, disinterest, or boredom. This research is nothing to sneeze at, so here’s the link:


      2. Yeah. It was probably a gesture made by elite snobs. If you said something to some rich, white-wigged snob, and he faked a sneeze, I think it was a sophisticated way of dissing you.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. sadly, just like the $180 million, the $180 was pure fantasy as well…

      in fact, it’s just the reverse; I’ve paid WP more than that over the past couple of years…

      Liked by 1 person

  2. On a slightly more serious note, I know you’ve considered the idea of writing a book after you retire (on that teacher’s retirement salary.) I’m going to suggest, if you haven’t thought of it yet, please think about writing a book about blogging. I think people would be interested in what it’s like to maintain a daily blog for so many consecutive days. (The motivation, where the ideas come from, the things that would have sidetracked others, the friendships you’ve formed, your teaching life, etc.) I’d buy that book because I think yours is a fascinating story.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. thanks for the encouragement, Pete. Such a book would sell at least 101 copies; I’d buy 100…

      but it has been a fun journey, thanks to meeting people like you…


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