In which we try this again...

 

In November 2004 I was 31 years old, terminally single, living in Kansas City, and working a job where I could never quite figure out exactly what my purpose was. Admittedly I couldn’t tell you what my purpose was in life either at the time. I spent most of my evenings at concerts or drinking alone at bars. After realizing that I was going to have to live through another four years of a Bush presidency, I started a blog to chronicle my life, as was the style at the time.

 

(For the record, How I Met Your Mother debuted in 2005 so my blog beat Barney’s by a full year. I’m a hipster that way.)

 

The blog was a five nights a week analysis of my life, pop culture, and as I put it, the tale of an F. Scott in search of his Zelda.” It was successful at least in the sense that people I didn’t know read it and people seemed to enjoy it. I also love that I have a record of that time in my life. I followed a strict rule of never writing about work (because spreadsheets are boring) or active relationships (because my lack of communication skills due to neurodivergence made it highly likely that I would express something to the internet that I hadn’t mentioned in person.) And I had fun.

 

After years of writing, and a still unfathomable move to Delaware, I found my Zelda. And my posting slowed. And we got married in the same town F. Scott and Zelda once roamed. And my posting stopped.

 

Basically, I no longer knew what I was supposed to be writing about. I didn’t want to write about married life for the aforementioned relationship rule. I couldn’t write about being depressed with my current state of life because I wasn’t. Hell, Obama was president. Things looked positive.

 

Let’s fast forward a bit to the present day.

 

I’m now an aging Gen X’er who sees retirement as less of a theoretical possibility and more of a nearing certainty. I see a world of flawed algorithms and AI slop. A political environment that can best be described as appalling. Oh, and six months ago I, uh, died but got better? Now have a heart with a remote control? It’s not the easiest to explain.

 

But it is something I really should write about.

 

So, since November was traditionally National Novel Writing Month, I’ve decided to reintroduce Battling the Current. My goal is to once again do the Sunday through Thursday posting schedule touching upon whatever is on my mind. Just get back to sitting at the laptop and writing for 15 – 30 minutes whatever that may be. I’ve got some topics and stories to share, a few returns to old favorites, and maybe I’ll catch the writing bug again. Or at least, spend a few weeks on a dying medium trying to produce authentic content instead of whatever you get from a prompt. Should be fun.

 

Best of 120 Minutes: Yes, I’m keeping this old favorite. I can’t say if it is because of the algorithm or not, but I think R.E.M. is having a bit of a return to cultural relevance even without any hope or need for a reunion. I at least see a lot of stuff on my feeds and I’m glad for it. They are a band that influenced me way more than I give them credit for and one that makes me wish that there was an equivalent for today’s teenagers who are searching for their tribe. At the very least, I would like there to be arena shows like this again.