I wanted to post again as  a follow up to an earlier post, in which I outlined what I thought would be some of the major challenges of 365, the photoblog that the Wife and I have maintained since our wedding day. At the time, my biggest concerns were not having enough ideas of things to take pictures of. In retrospect, how in the world someone could assume that this great world of ours would run out of beautiful things to show us, is ridiculous. More likely, as it turns out, is having the camera on hand when those moments present themselves, or remembering to take a picture when you do.

This project has been more of a struggle than either one of us would have imagined, I believe. The light at the end of the tunnel, in regards to the effort that the site requires, in the way of planning, and acting, is that it has forced us to work better together, and to communicate better to each other. We have had multiple arguments at one time or another about who was supposed to be taking pictures, and whose fault it was that none got taken on a particular day. The site is genuinely a microcosm of our marriage. It takes effort from both of us to succeed. When issues arise, the better that we communicate with each other, the better that they’re handled. We’re in it together.

That doesn’t mean that we still don’t argue about certain aspects of the site. She scolds me at times for not putting in enough effort, or not taking the initiative in regards to taking pictures, every day. I get upset sometimes about her picture choices, or her titles, and I can get just as upset as she can if a day gets missed. It’s interesting though, in those times when we do see quite a few pictures get taken in a particular day, or on a particular weekend, to see which pictures that she thinks should be representative of that day. Do you choose the picture that is most descriptive of the events occuring, or do you choose one that highlights moods or feelings about those activities, or do you go for the most beautiful, even if it’s non-descriptive. Those days, though, are rare.

Most days, we just like to take pictures of our cat.

Today, as I was doing some web surfing during lunch, I came upon a link to the Internet Archive’s Wayback Machine. I’ve been aware of this site for a while, but never used it, and so when I clicked the link, the very first web address that I searched for was of course Southbound Home, to very amused and nostalgic results. Most links to older versions of the site don’t really render the site design correctly, because the majority of the design was done in CSS files which are either long ago deleted, or moved around on my server, so that the Wayback Machine can’t find them. Sorry, Wayback Machine.

However, one design that did remain was the original blog design, sans images. The reason that this design shows up is because it was all coded within individual pages, or at least using software templates, so that the design is hard coded into the page. As I looked through the old pages, two things stood out to me more than others.

First thing being the level of effort that I put into those first pages and designs. The effort that I put into, and the passion that I have for site creation and design today, pales in comparison to those very first days. In those days, I updated everything by myself. By Hand. IN THE SNOW, BOTH WAYS. Now, Wordpress does almost everything, from the posting, to the updating of books I’ve read, to the About Me, and Frequently Asked Questions pages. Now I post all of my images to Flickr, and link to them in my posts; Back then I uploaded and created a new page for each individual set of pictures. I updated what I was reading, watching, and listening to by hand coding those sections, each time I picked up a new book, or switched to a new program. Even the post comments required a separate application.

If I had to do today, what I did back then, to get the bones of this site up and running, I wouldn’t have a site, plain and simple. I’ve told The Wife this story many times, but back when I was living alone for the last time in my one bedroom bachelor pad in Old Town, I would spend entire weekends sitting on the couch, tweaking little bits of code in every corner of the site, making minor changes that only I could have possibly noticed, and thinking that it was the most important thing in the world that I got it right. I would come home on Friday afternoon, and get on the computer. I would pry myself away about dinner time, and go grab Chinese food, and two or three DVDs, and go home, and get right back on the computer. And then about midnight, or sometimes as late as 1:00 AM, I would head to 7-11, and grab a couple of Red Bulls, and another pack of cigarettes, come back home, and start watching the movies, never really paying attention because my head was buried in the computer again. Bed time was 4:00 or 5:00 AM, sometimes sunrise, and then I’d wake up mid-afternoon,  to do it all again, with the leftover Red Bull and Sesame Chicken. Looking back on it now, it was a little  sad, and a lot unhealthy, to be so closed off to everything else, but I’m also happily nostalgic about it, because it is was so exhilarating, creating something, on your own, for the first time.

Secondly, I notice the writing. I am always my own harshest critic when it comes to my writing. Looking back, I see the same problems that I’ve always had when writing, which is finding my voice, and feeling comfortable writing about topics that are relevant to me and interesting to the people that read my site, few that they may be. It’s a constantly frustrating task to feel confident that what you write is important enough for others to take time reading. Picking through older posts on the Wayback Machine, though, you ican see that same tone and insight in some of my posts that I hope I have begun to use more frequently over the last five years. And I also wonder about some of the ‘series’ that I wrote so long ago, and if they would have caught on if I had continued on with them. My weekly SEC Football Picks every fall were the biggest deal to me back then, but Southbound Home’s Friday Word of the Day could have become pretty popular if I’d given it the chance. Right? One last thing that I did notice, though, is that I seemed to be much angrier back then, and I don’t know why. There were quite a few hostile rants about football, work, and current events in the news. Because of that, and the happiness that I currently have, it’s nice to look back every once in a while, but the past will likely stay in the past.

Today I heard from an old friend, one that I hadn’t spoken to in quite a while. I had actually though about him earlier in the week, and as these things tend to go, an e-mail with his name on it arrived in my inbox by mid-afternoon. I responded, and heard back quickly, and just like that, we were off. We talked about the kinds of things that friends tend to talk about; our families, our other friends, our careers, and, as has become the norm these days, the economy, and how it’s affecting our lives.

We both enjoy the art of amateur web design, and at some point the conversation moved in that direction. There’s really nothing I’d rather talk about sometimes, and today was one of those days. I complimented him on some of his recent work, and he gave me a compliment on this site. Specifically, he complimented my content, my writing, which I’ve struggled with for quite some time, and of which I am constantly critical, and rarely proud. I appreciated very much the compliment on my content. It’s something I’ve tried really hard to attain, and I’ve never really felt completely comfortable in the words that I string together on the site, and so it was nice to have that confirmation come, without prompting, out of the blue. But, as I said to him, and as I’ll say here again now, if you’ll notice, I’m not able to write that often. I just don’t have time to develop a really quality post more than once or twice a month. In the past, I’ve tried to add in ‘easy’ posts, little quick hitters, to keep the site fresh, and relevant, and that’s all fine and good, but I have always wanted my content to be more than just my daily activities, because honestly, I’m an accountant. It’s not really noteworthy, most of the time ever. So I try to take my time, and develop content that feels important, and is worth taking the time to write about.

The problem becomes, if all I’m doing is writing about those things that I find important, I’m considering the wrong audience, aren’t I? And that’s why I get e-mails from friends, asking me about how I’ve been, because they’ve been to the site, and while they now know my feelings on beards, and my strategies for succeeding at work, they don’t really know what’s happening to me, every day.

And as I explained, that’s why I like the idea of having the Twitter feed on the site. It allows for the ability to give more relevent insight into my life, while still allowing me to be patient and take my time with, something that is still very important to me, after all of this time.

So if any of you are here regularly enough, you’ll notice that there have been some slight changes to the sight. To be honest, aside from some seasonal changes to color combinations and graphics, this site has remained largely intact from it’s last successful redesign, in the summer of 2007. To that end, these changes are really no different. The overall feel of the site is still the same, with small changes of location for some elements. Overall though, the site is still the same. Almost two years later, and two column theme is still working for me. I’ve even put together some new ideas, and some new layouts, but they just never felt necessary, or really any better than what’s already here.  For now, I hope everyone likes it.

I wonder how many other men out there are familiar with, or adhere to, the concept of Winter Beard. Winter beard may have dozens upon dozens of other names or euphamisms that I’m not aware of, but in it’s most basic form is a beard that comes along with the onset of winter, keeping it’s grower warm and toasty on cold days, providing heightened senses of strength and might, and generally enabling the winter bearded to scoff at those whose wilting manliness doth not allow for facial hair.  Winter beard is not to be confused with the female equivalent, Winter Bush (Will…not…post…link…)

Any how, Winter Beard is generally off putting to the ladies. It’s scruffy, and unkempt, and it causes chapped lips, and it reminds the ladies of one more thing that is physically impossible for most of them. Kind of like peeing your name in the snow. In fact, that’s how most Winter Beards are eliminated, at the bequest of a significant other. Here’s the thing, though, The Wife loves the Winter Beard. Loves it. Likes to scratch it, and touch it, and groom it, like we’re a pair of silver backs in the Congo.

I’ve tried to come up with a reasoning for this behavior.  I think it’s due to the fact that during the key stage of Winter Beard, the molting stage, The Wife was out of town on business. The molting stage is generally the stage when girlfriends, wives, mothers, et al. grow tired of winter beard; it is at it’s most scraggly and unkempt, before it blossoms into the soft, downy bed of straw that we all know and love. She missed this stage, and once she returned, the manstache was feathery soft, drawing her in like a sale at Macy’s.

So now I’m faced with a new, uncharted dilemma; trying to find an exit strategy for Winter Beard. I’m wondering if there might be some specific calendar date, or tempature threshold at which the grisly attache is no longer allowed. Any insight from the masses is much appreciated.

I’m generally a very inquisitive person, always open to learning new things, and so far as I can tell, I’ve always been that way. And while I was never really interested in the sciences, and I’ve never been quite as creative in the arts as I would wish to be, I have gotten the basics down. Reading, writing, and ‘rithmatic have always come naturally to me, for whatever reason.

I don’t really feel the need here and now to discuss my mastery of the mathematical component of the ‘Three R’s’. I believe my choice of profession speaks to my competence in that arena. I have wanted, though, for quite some time, to try and write about my appreciation for the tasks of reading and writing, not just for the purpose of gaining knowledge, or advancement of professional career, but for the sheer enjoyment of them.

I have always been a reader. I will read just about anything, and there exists much evidence to prove that statement true, as well. I enjoy the knowlege that newspapers, magazines, or journals bring, but most of all, I like entertaining, well-written stories, whether they be fictional or true. I very much enjoy the path that a good writer can and will take a reader down, as he weaves a story, and creates a picture in our minds using on words. I like the feeling of not wanting to put a good book down, reading just one more chapter, until you look up, and it’s 3:00 AM, and you’ve gotten to the last page. When it comes to fiction, good writers tell a story in intricate detail, but great authors know what details to leave out, allowing the imagination of the reader to fill in the final details, making the story individual to everyone who reads it.

The idea of such a thing fascinates me, and the desire to effect others as I’ve been effected by the great writers that I’ve had the pleasure of reading has always led me to want to write a book of my own. I’ve even developed a few ideas myself, and want to attempt to document them here for the first time; in part, to move them out of my own mind and onto or into some form of media for archival purposes, but also in the hopes that someone more knowledgeable than I am in regards to writing fiction might lend their insight to the development of my ideas. With nothing further to add, I include both outlines for critique here:

Story Outline #1

The first idea for a fictional work that I’ve rolled around in my head involves a man returning to his small southern home town, which he hasn’t visited in quite some time. He arrives with little more than the car that he’s driving, the clothes on his back, and a duffel bag, the contents of which are initially unknown, but which we soon find out is filled with cash. The last time that most of his family saw him was at his wedding, but when he returns to town, his wife is not with him. He takes up in the local motel, even though his mother, a typical southern matriarch (A wise caretaker, with a dash of crazy), and his sister, both live in the town, and can accomodate him. Throughout the course of the story, we find out that the man’s wife has died. The story would examine the man’s relationship with his family, and how he deals with his own loss, though the course of his return to town. The plot would center around the money; where it came from, and what to do with it, and the actions that the man and his family take to resolve both of these things. Ultimately, the book deals with the resiliency of the human spirit, and the different ways in which we can find happiness, and love.

For some reason, as I develop these stories in my own brain, they come with soundtracks; I suppose in preparation for their ultimately successful development as major motion pictures. Go figure. Regardless, I imagine this story with a accompanying soundtrack consisting of tracks by Ben Harper, The Blind Boys of Alabama, The Black Keys, and, quite possibly. The Dixie Chicks. That’s right, the Dixie Chicks.

Story Outline #2

This story involves a man who seems to be living the perfect life. He has a wonderful wife, two or three children, the nice house, and the well paying job. It’s all there for him. Until one day, the man just disappears. Literally, just up and leaves, taking a flight to a small island in the caribbean, without telling his wife, or children, or boss, and without even saying goodbye. The man takes a job on a fishing boat that goes out from the main docks of the small island daily, carrying tourists wanting to haul in big trophy fish, and becomes a regular at a local island bar, which is tended by a crazy, but endearing older woman. If this story was written by Jimmy Buffett, her name would be Esmerelda. In my mind she is as yet unnamed.

Back in the states, the man’s family, led by his previously estranged father, attempt to track him down. His wife is scared for him, but also angry, and isn’t sure she really wants to find him, once her initial shock wears off. The story would examine the complexities of daily life and how they affect our attempts to be happy, and even our percetption of what happiness is, and the conflict hinges on the man’s decision to stay on the island or return to his old life, once he’s been found and confronted by his father, who has his own agenda.

A corporate rock soundtrack, with a pinch of Bob Marley and the Wailers, would be developed for the screen adaptation.

The Decision

Both of these initial ideas have been packed into the dark recesses of my brain for quite some time. I have always said that I want to advance and develop one or both of them further, and to see where things went from there. I have neither the time, nor the abilities to develop both of these story ideas at the same time, so what I would like to see are a few comments about which story seems more interesting, or more capable of being developed into something more substantial.  Discuss.

(Author’s Note: I wrote this post a short while ago, and have been delayed in getting it on to the site, and have since began developing one of these ideas already. However, because I want to get honest opinions about both of them, and because it hasn’t been developed past about one or two chapters, I want to refrain from saying which that I thought was the more interesting idea, and already began to work on. Hopefully, popular opinion matches my own. If not, I may just need to rethink the whole thing.)