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In November 1994, I sat in Central Park and was amused by some things I saw. When I got back to my computer, I created a new section on my website called The Journal and wrote about it. In hindsight, this was my first ever blog entry. Of course, it wasn't a true blog in the sense that it had no RSS feed and wasn't managed in any kind of content management system. But it was a posting about something I wanted to share and I began adding to that list. Over the next 15 years, I've (mostly) consistently continued this tradition right up to today (this site you are reading). Whether I was the first ever blogger is an entirely academic and, to me, uninteresting question. I was among the first and that's enough for me.
What is interesting is what happened in 1997 when Dave Winer started NewsPages. I was an early adopter of Userland's Frontier tool and an avid user of it (in 1996 I built an entire Help Desk CRM tool using it for Dartmouth College that was still in use years after I left to attend grad school). Winer's tool made it easy to both post blog entries as well as provided the RSS feed capability to allow you to subscribe to them. The second I saw it, I grabbed it, installed, it and began using it.
Of particular interest, and the reason I bring this up at all today, is Winer reporting today on his blog about an academic paper by Rudolf Ammann, presented at Hypertext 2009 in Torino, Italy (oh to be in Italy again!). The Paper is titled, Jorn Barger, the NewsPage Network, and the Emergence of the Weblog Community and goes into great detail on how NewsPages helped start a worldwide movement. I'm mentioned under my pre-marriage name of Andy J. Williams but it's me all the same.
So, that was something fun to wake up to this morning. I'll try to contact the author to have him correct my name.
Monster Mini Golf is decorated entirely in spooky stuff that glows in the blacklight flourescent bulbs that cover the ceiling. The kids love it and their shirts glow and all that fun stuff. But I can't help but think of that guy we all knew in high school who decorated his entire bedroom in blacklight-glowing posters and the like. Probably heavy metal band posters. He's the same guy who probably offered you your first joint (I know, I know, you didn't inhale) and he is also most likely to have stayed living in his mother's house long after the rest of us moved on.
Maybe I tea too much into this place but that's what runs through my mind when I am here.
In early 1986, I met Maureen (Mo) for the first time. I was going to hang out with Ellen and Mo was there too. This was near my birthday so Mo bought me some baby keys as a present. Not long after, Maureen and I began dating and made all of our friends crazy with our drama.
Today, I dug out my bike to ride to the Comic Doctor to play some Magic since Ann has the car. It's the first time I've ridden this year so it took some work inflating, greasing, and tightening. I put my saddle bag on and checked inside. 23 years later, the keys Maureen gave me are still in there. Right where they've been since 1986.
Funny how I've never really noticed them before this year. Must be all the "getting back in touch" happening on Facebook.
And, also fitting as I am missing my Dartmouth reunion right now is the yellow sheet of paper (just visible in the bag in the picture) from my Freshman trip detailing what supplies I needed for that bike trip. Also, still in my saddle bag.
One thing I like about taking the train is the joy of people watching. I sit in the same seat every morning (boarding in Providence, the start of the line, means I have an empty train every morning) and I've started getting to know all of the people I see day after day. There's the couple who always sits across from me with matching iPods who rarely speak to each other but kiss when one gets off a stop before the other. There's the older woman who's friendly with everyone and chats with me about my puzzles. There's the young woman with the MacBook who plays with iTunes and then writes. And there's the pretty woman a bit younger than I am who I am convinced I somehow know or have met but cannot place her. Her lack of any expression the rare moments our eyes meet tell me she does not recognize me in any way so I suspect she just looks like someone I once knew.
And taking the train reminds me of another time in my life where I was a commuter on a commuter rail: high school. I lived in Bronxville, NY and took the Metro North Commuter Rail from the Fleetwood station (walking distance from the apartment I lived in with my Mother) to Fordham where I attended Fordham Preperatory High School. I remember very little about the commute as it was largely dull and I didn't really know anyone on the train. (When I was in 11th grade we moved to Manhattan and, in 12th, Brooklyn and taking the D train up to the Bronx was far more interesting but a story for another time).
One memory stands out loud and clear for me: The Red Haired Girl. She was there every afternoon on the Fordham platform waiting for the train. I think she may even have gotten off at my stop though I do not clearly remember that detail. All I know was that over the course of 10th grade, I became fascinated with her. She was very pretty and her eyes were especially striking, contrasting with her bright red hair. I was always looking at her and then looking away when she caught me, wondering if she was the least bit interested in me as well. She seemed to look at me too but that could just be because I was staring at her so much. At that age, everything seems so overblown and important.
In English class we had to write a short (very short) story and I used her as the plot of the story. It was about a man who lacked the courage to speak to someone with whom he obviously connected. It was a melodramatic piece and if there's any justice in the world, no copy survives today in any boxes of stuff I have. But it speaks to how much I thought about her.
I was a drama club geek in High School and was in every musical they put on. When I went home after school when we had a rehearsal she was sometimes there taking the later train as well. If I was with any of my friends from the show, I would ham it up with them, all to get her attention.
One day, I got the nerve to speak to her. It remains to this day the most anti-climactic event of my life. I had built up for months this fantasy of finally talking to her and making this connection and we'd fall in love and clouds would part and doves would drop olive branches on us or something insipid like that. But it wasn't to be. No, instead I got up from my seat and moved over and sat next to her and told her that I'd been looking at her for some time and wanted to say hello and something mumble mumble. She just sat there and said nothing. She said nothing at all. So, I got up and moved away, maybe even to another car. I avoided her after that, mortified as I was.
Soon after we moved and my commute went from Manhattan north into the Bronx rather than south and I never took the train again nor did I ever see her again. I never did learn her name (or I forgot it if I did). For quite some time I avoided thinking about her or the situation as it was too cringeworthy. But now I look back with some fondness on my awkward, shy, teenaged self and actually feel a bit of pride that, after everything, I at least had the guts to go and talk to the girl.
And, here I am, 25 years later still thinking about that girl, about that commute, and about trains. Some mornings I just want to tune everything out and stare out the window while I listen to something on my iPhone. But some days I'll sit and chat with whoever is nearby and in a chatty mood and get to know some new and interesting people. Either way, I love riding the train.
Kiddo's picture is a Trumpeter Swan in pencil next to and slightly above his head.
This past year in Cub Scouts has been a tumultuous one. I don't really want to go into details because there are far too many ways to offend people or hurt feelings. And that's mainly why I've never really blogged or tweeted about what's been going on. But let's leave it at this: the den leaders got together in early fall and demanded a change in leadership to right a whole host of wrongs that had been going on. It took a few months from that point for real change to happen but it finally did. How and what is not important. Suffice it to say that the problems are now over and gone.
This past weekend, our pack held the annual Pinewood Derby. For the three of you out there who are not familiar with this, it is a race of scout-made wooden cars on a wooden track (I'll let you figure out what kind of wood the cars are) using only gravity to propel the cars. This was our first pack event without any influence or involvement from the source of the problems and it was a markedly different event from all others we have held to date. When we met to set up up the track and the finish line software, screen and laptop and the sound system on Friday night, we had fun. It was all joy and camaraderie. On Saturday, the entire event ran smoothly and everyone had fun. There were no politics, no last-minute insanities brought about by poor planning or last-minute changes. Everything just worked and everyone worked together like a fantastic team.
I had forgotten that things could operate that way after so much dysfunction for so very long. I'm still in a good mood from how wonderfully the weekend went and look forward to what this great team will do for our boys moving forward.
Learn something new every day.
Over on the Take Control of Podcasting on the Mac site, I just posted episode 10, my interview with Chuck Joiner. This is the second in an ongoing series I am doing where I am speaking to Mac-based podcasters about their shows, their rigs, how they got their start, and any advice they have for folks just starting out. Chuck is a well known podcaster and an accomplished interviewer. He's interviewed me twice when new editions of my book have come out and it's always a joy to record those sessions. I got to turn the tables on him and find out how he approaches interviewing. Well worth a listen for anyone interested in conducting interviews.
