The evolution of a weblog

Six years ago, Times Union blogboss Mike Huber asked if I wanted to take my little weblog and bring it to the TU blogfarm.  I think I set a timed record for acceptance.  And on August 25, 2009, my blog joined the other bloggers at the TU portal.

That was over six years ago.

And today, my blog is one of the longest-running independent blogs on; it’s also the record-holder for most consecutive days blogging among any TU blog, staff or independent.

But how has its content evolved?

Over the weekend, I went back and looked at some of the content from those earlier posts.  They were simple, whimsical posts about things like buying a new wristwatch or a list of my favorite television shows.

My blog was simple and quiet.

And then, as time progressed, that blog became an extension of my life.

The blog inspired me to deal with my own mortality, as well as the loss of loved ones.  It became the avenue to the addition of a headstone on a resting place of a long-remembered baby brother, and the updating of a headstone on the grave of a beloved grandmother.

The blog helped me get through a very painful and shaky divorce, as well as the rocky and confusing world of dating.

The blog helped celebrate my successes, and it helped forgive my failures.  There were highs and there were lows, and I never shied away from any of them.

The blog became a cycle of life.  Months like February and August and November were replaced with Trivia Bowl and Altamont and Equinox.

The blog helped me resurrect one fiction story (the Iverhill series) and create a new one (Collarworld).  It helped me have fun and snark (the Amish Mafia reviews) and deal with a cold, uncaring world (I don’t do well when children are injured or killed by madmen).

The blog has encouraged me to step out of my safe zones, to take camera equipment and go beyond pictures of cats or pictures of dinner.  Next thing you know, I’m throwing around phrases like “splitfilm” and “ripscale” and “Kodak Red” and “Leica Green” and the Chief and the Rollei and always italicizing the “f” in Nikon Df.  Words like “Jumbuck” and “Lenten Meal” and “AGFA Bridge” and “Ansco Lake,” words like “Vivaldi’s Pond” and “Aerochrome Falls” and Dream Windows and other creative fires, built from the sparks of individual blog posts.

The blog has made my cars supporting characters in my life, whether it was a 1991 Pontiac nicknamed the “6”, a 2005 Saturn Ion christened “Cardachrome”, or a 2006 Chevrolet Cobalt SS “Blackbird” that was named in a “help-Chuck-determine-a-name” blog poll.

The blog has reflected on the evolution of a currently 52-year-old man as he travels forward in life.  Sometimes each step is positive, sometimes the steps can hurt.  Sometimes the stories aren’t perfect, sometimes they turn out just fine.  But every journey begins with a single step.  Every moment begins with a single tick of the clock.

The blog has celebrated my fellow Times Union community bloggers, to the point where I know that Thursdays are reserved for them.  Mike Huber gave me an opportunity to share my dreams and visions and ideas; it’s only right for me to pass the baton every Thursday and showcase the hard work of my fellow writers and dreamers and visionaries.

Six years in.  This is my blog.  If this were a person, it would need first grade school clothes and a start in Common Core.

Six years in.  I know many of my blog readers, their morning routine involving coffee and breakfast and checking out my latest writings and photos.  I enjoy interacting with my blogreaders.  It’s a new communication, a new friendship path, a new community.  It evolves, just as my life has evolved.

Six years in.  Trivia tournaments.  Photo competitions.  Reflections on the worthiness of my life.  Reflections on those who have received the call to Glory.

I never thought, not in my wildest dreams, that this blog would follow this path.  Not in August of 2009.  Not in November of 2015, either.

And here we are.  You and me.

Every post is a new step.  Every writing is a personal, internal, introspective view.

Do I know what this blog will cover in the future?

Maybe.  And maybe life has the opportunity to surprise me.

You know… that moment at night, just before sleep overtakes, when you think to yourself, “I did not expect that thing to happen today.”  Whatever “that thing” was.  Whatever “that thing” will become.

That’s where this blog has traveled.

And here we are, you and me.  On a chilly late November morning in 2015.

And we’re still here.  And we’re still writing.

And we’re still observing.  This wonderful, crazy, confusing, confounding new world and everything in it.

Thanks for being part of this blog.

Oh, trust me.  This isn’t the end of my blog.

It’s just a milepost, a marker, a chance to look back at six years… and continue for six more, or sixteen more, or as long as the road leads me.

I’m here today, I’ll be here tomorrow, and the next day and the next.

I don’t know what the blog might look like next week, or at the next mile post.

But it will still be a blog.

And it will still be here.

And I will still be here.

And you will still be here.

Count on it like a sunrise.