Personal

This year my company is officially taking a break starting the weekend before Christmas through New Year’s Day. I haven’t had a break from work this long1 since graduating college, and I am thrilled by the concept. Several of my coworkers are nervous about this change—we have customer support teams and we need to ensure our sites don’t suddenly break while everyone is gone—but I plan to revel in it in the intended fashion. I get to enjoy time with family and friends without distraction, without needing to burn additional PTO, and come back refreshed with an eagerness to get work done. ...

Erin and I spent a weekend north of San Francisco in a small house among the redwood trees. It overlooked a misty valley that offered the perfect balance of seclusion without isolation.1 We set up this small retreat to disconnect, focus on ourselves, and also discuss our yearly themes. ...

I had a moment of panic followed by clarity and motivation when I realized my tenuous approach to managing tasks at work was no longer tenable. I needed to make a change. ...

Last night the wedding of Erin’s younger brother and his lovely now-wife. It was fun to participate in the process of wedding preparation from a new perspective—one where we have tangible advice to offer, a calmer presence from experience—only one year after our own. This took form in a few ways. Erin saw how our coordinator worked through each little detail as we got closer to the date, so she made sure to do the same with the bride who had painstakingly planned venue decoration. I mainly acted as a role model to the groomsmen who, though absolutely great friends and nice guys, still end up a little immature for self-governance.1 This also meant during decorating in the morning and post-reception teardown, I could yield my influence to direct their help. ...

One year of marriage has sped by. We unintentionally packed it full of travel, hosting visitors, and yet another road trip back to Minnesota. We spent time with friends, watched plenty of movies, found good restaurants, and made excellent meals. Throughout it all was a comfort, security, and joint responsibility of finally being married and working through what that means to us. ...

I fainted for the first time last week from dehydration. I have the scabs on my left knuckle and forehead to show for it, and the memory of losing a hold on my balance and waking up to the impact of concrete. ...

I wrote about Joel Haver some time ago. He has a second channel, Joel Talks About Movies, which is focused on his ideas about movies and life rather than actual short films he produces for his main channel. His most recent video on that second channel, a little rain never hurt anybody, was a lovely take on an idea I’ve tried to embody as I grow older. The thesis—which operates as both a direct idea and a metaphor—is to stop worrying about getting wet from the rain. If you get caught in some rain, the worst thing that happens is you get wet and you’ll be dry sometime later. ...

An uncle on my dad’s side has been a guitarist on the side for years. We don’t talk about it too often, but now that he’s getting older and preferring instruments with better ergonomics, he offered me a Stratocaster that he really enjoyed but wasn’t playing anymore. I happily took him up on the offer. It plays beautifully, with a well-maintained neck that feels comfortable and fast. However, some of the metal hardware has begun rusting.1 My plan is to use this as a first step in understanding how to maintain my guitars. Until now, I’ve changed the strings and left further setup to professionals. They do an exceptional job, but you pay for it. Considering this guitar was free, it seems appropriate to determine what I can learn to do for free. ...

Last week I released Episode 257 of Comical Start, Pockets of Conversation. Its publish date is just a few days after the 5th year anniversary of our first episode, Multiverse. Grant was unable to record with me, so here is a lightly-edited transcript1 of the 25 minute monologue that I did off the dome. ...

This is a refrain in disc golf describing the approach to properly development throwing form. It’s typically attributed to Philo Brathwaite, a particularly smooth player out of northern California. It feels self-evident in the world of disc golf mechanics1 as you watch different players, but its applicability beyond this origin knows no bounds. ...