Public figure

So, how does one become a Public Figure? I'm scared to look at who else Facebook thinks are public figures, although I noticed Donald Trump on the list. Trump has millions of "likes" and "talking abouts." Wolf DeVoon has one. I liked myself. Zero seemed tragic. Maybe it's a clerical error. A stupid Facebook computer hiccoughed, and I'm a Public Figure by mistake. I won a lottery. Tomorrow it'll be someone else who's equally obscure. Honestly, I find it baffling. Google seems to think I'm a novelist, although that, too, seems a little strange. I only wrote five or six novels, all of them VERY obscure and self-published, rock bottom on Amazon's bestseller list. Google Books picked them up by prestidigitation, a word that I enjoy using as often as possible. Library Thing shelved a couple by mistake. Maybe I was quoted a lot. Quotes.com seems to think so. It's quite hard to grasp that people know about me. I did a radio interview recently, and I was introduced like a famous person, a "libertarian icon." Apparently, a lot of libertarians thought I was dead, because I haven't said much about it recently, busy writing novels -- nor is there anything else to say about liberty and justice. Whatever I knew about it was published a long time ago, got noticed perhaps. Makes no sense that Facebook designated me a Public Figure rather recently. I spent part of my day today considering how to spend my last $20, and the stupid dog qualfied for a $5 item on my shopping list. I also weed-whacked another acre to beat back weeds and invasive wild grape vines. Hell is neither hot nor cold; it's festooned with razor-sharp wild vines. Is that what Public Figures do? -- fight weeds with half a roll of plastic string and a remaining quart of gasoline? Whacking an acre of hemlock, broadleafs, clover and tall stickers revealed an enormous assortment of fallen branches I need to gather and stack on the burn pile. That's the exact meaning of "windfall" -- picking shit up, often requiring a chain saw. Last season, a massive thorn tree fell, after a hellacious storm. Took a month to cut it up and haul rounds to a concrete pad behind the tin barn, already overloaded with oak and walnut and sycamore. I made a substantial pile of firewood by punching a road through the forest and bringing 7000 volts across the road and up the hill five or six hundred feet from another direction. Ha! - famous for windfall and bulldozing. Huge mess, you wouldn't believe how many men and machines it took to clear a 150 ft x 12 ft driveway plus a cleared building site for a little house. Had to be done, to get the concrete trucks in. An infinity of 2-inch rock delivered by double-axle dump trucks to harden the road. Famous for spending too much money. Certainly notorious for blowing through $30K on credit cards, all of which are max'd out and credit score annihilated. Seriously, down to my last $20 of cash. That's why I have to sell my car -- to eat, take the dog to the vet again, buy some heartworm pills, do something with his bad eye. I do NOT want him to suffer major surgery again. Last time I took him in, the nitwit vet pulled most of his teeth, which I did not want done. Poor guy has a heck of a time eating anything bigger than a morsel. I tell him he's a good dog. Old and disfigured (like I am) the dog can't earn a penny. When he was young and strong, he could have won a show. Public Figure? -- bah. No money in it.