This had me laughing out loud with the kind of laughter that can only be generated from reading something that closely matches an experience you’ve personally had.
An epic tale of a hero who conquers his girlfriend's grandparents' Wi-Fi issues: mcsweeneys.net/articles/in-wh…—
Timothy McSweeney (@mcsweeneys) January 20, 2012
However funny, I think it’s important to have compassion for our elders, for whom the digital revolution has largely been a dizzying, nearly incomprehensible whirlwind.
Almost exactly a year ago, I wrote about the tremendous pride I experienced, when my then 13-year old son, Julian, took first place in the Men’s Intermediate Division at the annual Veni. Vidi. Ascendi. rock climbing competition at Western Washington University.
Julian continued climbing in the year since, facing the typical ups and downs, and since this is not a hardcore climbing blog and you, my readers, are not, for the most part, I assume, hardcore climbing enthusiasts, it really hasn’t made sense to chronicle here much of what has transpired. For rock climbing is essentially a practice of such small incremental progress, measured in cryptic rating systems that are completely meaningless to the layperson, and at the same time it’s more about achieving one’s personal best rather than beating the competition.
BUT…then there are the occasional HUGE accomplishments, like when Julian qualified at the Regional Championships on December 10th to move on to Divisional Championships, and when this past weekend, at Divisionals he qualified to move on to the National Championships in Colorado Springs, CO the first weekend in March!
Woohoo!!!
The Injury: Right after Regionals, Julian hurt the middle finger on both hands from overuse, he was told he needed to rest for 4 weeks, meaning no climbing at all, we’d just completed construction of a new, killer climbing wall in our garage and he’d qualified for Divisionals.
It was torture! Julian had to develop some serious discipline, with daily ice baths for his hands, and resisting the temptation to climb, with all his climbing buddies itching to get on the new wall.
I think the thing I’m most proud of is how well he stepped up to these challenges, which really enabled him to heal in time to train hard the week before Divisionals, and then, of course, enabled him to do as well as he did there.
The Money: Usually we think about success in terms of positive gains. There’s the sense of accomplishment we earn, the acknowledgment of the accomplishment from others that we receive, and some times there are even prizes or other awards.
In the case of Nationals, well, Julian’s accomplishment will be costing us a hefty chunk of change, for airfare, car rental, lodging, meals, competition registration, etc.
And yet, I give it all up gladly, that he might have this amazing experience, that he can see where his hard work and determination can take him when he sets his mind, his will, and his passion towards his goals.
As a former teenager and now the parent of a 14-year old, these photos by Joseph Szabo elicit a strange mixture of nostalgia, anxiety, and terror.
Coming of Age in America: The Photography of Joseph Szabo | ti.me/yQCURb—
TIME LightBox (@timepictures) January 12, 2012
Last week I posted the first installment of my new Recurring Series, Upcycling, featuring the coat rack you see here to the right. Made from a reclaimed wooden shipping pallet, I found it via Shelterness.
Well, I managed to move from inspiration to implementation in what was almost certainly a new personal record for any endeavor other than blogging. In just five days, I took this idea, ran with it, scavenged a pallet, removed the bottom boards, cleaned it, primed it, painted it with dregs of varying age from our embarrassingly large store of paints from project past, mounted the hooks (from Ikea, the only non-recycled items in the project), and, finally, mounted my new coat rack in the mudroom. (It should be noted that I was generously assisted in the painting and mounting phases by my wife, who was probably wondering what had gotten into me, but who also knew that she shouldn’t question the newfound productivity, else it might disappear as quickly as it arrived.)
Since I know you’re dying to see my finished product, here are two photos, and then I’ll finish up with some notes on the project that I think could be helpful to anyone else who might attempt this project:
As promised, if you choose to attempt this at home…
As the remaining seconds of 2011 tick away, I find myself reflecting on this blogging thing that I do.
Unlike last year, when we had a new decade to celebrate — even though, as I wrote, most people had incorrectly celebrated the year before — this year we’re ushering in just another mundane set of 12 months.
Sure, there’s all the Mayan calendar 2012 ridiculousness, but let’s face it, things really won’t get fun again until the year 2020, because it’s such a cool number, or 2112, because there’s a classic Rush album by that name.
Um…where was I?
Oh, yeah, reflecting on blogging!
2011 has been an exciting year, here at Fish & Bicycles. I feel like I’ve really hit my stride, like I’m in the flow, that the blog is serving it’s primary purpose of acting as an outlet for my creative expression. I look at the content I’ve accumulated since I started in October 2009 and I feel very proud of it.
Icing on the cake: my monthly page views have tripled since this time last year, and it’s more thrilling than I can say, knowing that folks from all over the world have stopped by.
Now, not all of my reflective thoughts about blogging are so positive. There are times, infrequent as they may be, when I question the value of doing this. There are times when I have nothing really burning to say, but I feel a sense of obligation to try to produce something. On my good days, I see this as purely good writing discipline, for many a writing teacher will tell you that writing something, regardless of the quality, every single day is essential to being a good writer, as it keeps the creative juices flowing. On my not so good days, I wonder whether or not I’m in need of an ego-trip check, that perhaps, rather than a commitment to a writing regimen, I might really be more concerned with how the blog looks, updated as often as possible, which, experts preach, is essential for attracting more regular readers.
I’m sure that a lot of creative types wrestle with this from time to time, especially those of us who do not do it for a living. Really, it’s that age-old question: Is it art if no one but you ever sees or hears it?
While I believe it most certainly is, I also believe that a lot of artists do what they do because they want to share the fruit of their labors with others, to entertain, to provoke thought and emotion, to contribute something born of the human spirit to the world.
I could probably go on an on with this subject, but that’s enough reflection for now. We’ll see how this next year goes.
In the meantime, thanks, as always, to everyone who stops by, however briefly, for taking the time to consider my humble contributions to the blogosphere.
Happy New Year!
Well, it’s that time of year again, when I’ll be heading over the river and through the woods, to grandparents’ houses for Christmas.
We’re halfway through Chanukah, had a great time lighting candles, playing dreidel, and eating latkes, but we’re an interfaith family, and now we get to load up all of our Jewish stuff to bring with us for the second half of the holiday, along with all of our Christmas gifts, and drive to Seattle for time with the goyishe relatives.
Typically, this means that I won’t be blogging much for the next few days, so things will be quiet here at Fish & Bicycles, probably until Monday.
While I’m indisposed, feel free to browse around Fish & Bicycles in any of the following ways:
Cheers!
