Thirteen

I was playing around with keyword checking websites yesterday, trying to get a feel for them. Meta tags were so much easier. I started with the kinds of keywords I thought might work for my site but didn’t come away much the wiser. So, I thought, let’s have a go with some words where I know what to expect so I tried “transformers” and lo and behold hardly anyone was searching for that word until a couple of months ago, now 100,000 people a day are investigating them. Cool.

Okay I said, let’s try something that women will search for. Assuming men were more interested in the contents than the containers I typed in “bra” but I was so wrong: only 60% of all searches were by males. I told my wife and she said to look up “breasts” which I obediently did and the results were also a bit of a surprise: a mere 67% of males. To be honest I expected more but I was forgetting about breast cancer and implants.

Then I took a closer look at what breasts were being looked at. Jessica Alba’s were by far the most popular (7594 searches) and then I noticed the fifth one the list: just after Jessica there were 6881 searches for “13 year old breast”. The thing is, there were no entries for fourteen-year-olds or fifteen-year-olds or any other age. What’s so magical about thirteen-year-old girls? Back in 1972-73 all the girls I knew were thirteen and I actually don’t recall being particularly obsessed with any of them; they were all strange creatures and I don’t recollect any of them being particularly well-endowed. That said I had an eye for the older woman even back then.

Still I think back with some fondness to those years. I’m not so sure I’d want to relive them. I’m positive I wouldn’t want to be thirteen now. I’m not so sure I like being forty-eight now. I get wanting to believe that the grass is always greener and I’m becoming more and more nostalgic as the days go by but there’s danger in that too – living in the past uses up what little time we have in the present. Carpe Deum as they say.