He ain't heavy, he's my blubber

Prosperity isn’t beating a path to my door; he’s crouching playfully around the corner. Boo! Oh, silly, silly prosperity.

I have a plan to tease him out; gather a few duckets for my online content. Following a popular new business model, I will no longer have a blog per se, I’ll have a club, no – a blub. A very cool blub, where even if you can afford the fee, maybe you're just not hip enough to be a blubber.

Well, why not; the concept worked for American Express. Members felt privileged to pay $100 a year to impress the discerning busboy or reservation clerk. Stuck with MasterCard, who knew what might happen -- perhaps the waitress wouldn’t even take your money. Or worse, she might hold your card between thumb and forefinger, extending the arm while walking it to the cashier. Ah, the 90’s; money so plentiful you couldn’t give it away. Is that an American Express in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me.

The membership concept has always worked for National Geographic, which takes things a step further and only promises a nomination. Not everyone makes the final cut, you know. Worked on me as a 12 year old. Gosh, I wondered -- who put my name before the committee? Did Sir Edmund Hillary vote? And am I like the youngest ever?

What really drives new membership is the quality and exclusivity of the current membership. That’s where you come in.

You're already enrolled in my blub, so no worries. But that also means you’re going to have to start putting out. A book of poetry or photos, yeah, ok, fine. A lecture -- Oh great. Yawn, people, yawwwwwn!

I’ve got one word for you – Scientology. Read the chapter on recruitment techniques. Start dressing like you mean it.

What do you get out of it? A membership card. The Phoebe and Albert newsletter (A big maybe on that one). Exclusive content and information on my latest appearances – like the next time I plan to shop at Ralph’s.

But you’re going to have to put out again shortly – membership has its expiration date.