I’ve always felt a crucial something has been missing from my interactions. Furiously attempting to connect with as many people as I could during the pandemic, I didn’t realize – as I finally do now – that I was missing subtle social cues that just don’t transfer electronically.
Here we are now, living through a major event that will most certainly earn pages in future history textbooks.
So much is changing so fast. What seems like normal today, would have been unimaginable last week. With video, we hope to document the change in our world and in ourselves.
This whole virus thing is overwhelming. It’s clear that the next couple of weeks are going to bring major changes to our lives.
Even now, thinking about it, my muscles tense. I get nervous.
It’s been a few months, so I bring to you my Fall 2019 Media Diet. Oddly, I’ve felt like I’m just not consuming as much new stuff as usual.
Here are a dozen or so newsletters I get that you might consider reading too.
I consume a lot of media. So, with a tip of the hat to Jason Kottke, here is a rundown of some of my media consumption from this summer.
I’ve been looking for ways to relax and find calm. Here’s a video I made about it.
I’ve roasted a pig or lamb every year for five years now. I build my own barbeque pit to roast pigs and then serve 50 or so people. This year I made a video explaining how I did it.
What happens to Mayberry in the City when it becomes a place just for the well-to-do?
The stories that survived – from thousands of years ago – are sweeping, and sometimes very personal. We’re reminded by Ammurapi’s undelivered clay tablet plea that real people existed 3,200 years ago, who harbored hopes and dreams just as we do today. The distance of time and lack of written records separates us from ancient people, but it does not make us very different from them.
Aren’t you enough? I don’t really mean you, per se. I mean the plural you. All of you reading this.
I recently interviewed three friends who’ve made major life changes to learn why and how they did them.
Lou Fourcher was far from perfect, no man could ever be. But as his only child, I was showered with love, encouragement and wisdom like no other.