Yardstick: Summer 2025

A seasonal update.

Thank you.

I mean it. For a long time I played with the idea of sharing my words outside of my own notebooks, but it’s scary. It’s one thing to send them out into the world and completely another to send them out into the internet where the trolls live. So far none of them have found it. I am glad you did, and I’m grateful for your encouragement.

Two months into this project seems like a good time to take stock and to see where things stand. 

Back in the Navy I would periodically meet with my sailors and tell them where we’ve been, where we are, and where we’re going. I think that’s a good model for this periodic update, which I’ll call The Yardstick.

Where we’ve been

Welcome to the new site!

The first hosting service I used had a nice look and made it easy to build a website and write posts, but it had limited options to get the word out (who uses RSS feeds, anyway?). I relied on Facebook and LinkedIn to share any new stories and sometimes that worked, but most times it didn’t. There were too many variables: time of day I posted, how many “likes” or reposts it got, how many people engaged or read the comments, and whether the post said anything the AI might perceive as irrelevant or threatening. 

In short, the algorithms can be finnicky. I did not want to put the fate of my writing in the hands of tech broligarchs so, as you can see, I changed to a different site with a newsletter option. If you want to read The Stick, then you will get it in your inbox every time rather than having a post get lost in a newsfeed manipulated to show what the site thinks the digital version of you wants to see, which always seems to just make you angry.

We all need to spend less time on Facebook anyway.

In my first post, Welcome to The Stick, here's what I said about the goals for this blog:

“I hope to explore what we’re afraid of. To find ways to turn our collective fear into collective action. To determine what we could do right now for a better future. And maybe even find out how we might help that person who just left a comment down there at the bottom of the page.

“The Stick will document my attempts at civic engagement. It will have stories of success and failure, and (maybe dubious) advice for how to survive troubling times. It will offer support, even if that’s in the form of a good poem or a great song, or a story just for a laugh, a moment to forget the crazy. It can offer a smile or a handshake, or a side-eye if warranted. There will be anger and peace, beauty and horror, opposition and support. Questions, answers, and guesses.

“The Stick is my take on what it's like to be a person doing their level best in this baffling, jacked up, beautiful world.”

Looking back on this now, I basically said, “I have no idea what this thing is going to be, but I’ve put it off for a long time and dammit I’m going to do it. Whatever it becomes will be at least a small force pushing things in the right direction.”

At the time, I was deeply concerned about changes in the US government (and God Almighty, I still am), and I thought that would be my objective. However, I discovered that providing useful and insightful commentary on the state of the world is formidable: you need to read and research and swim in it, to eat, sleep, and breathe it. Anything less and all you do is rant, and that is not what I wanted this to be.

So, the bit about turning collective fear into action, determining what we can do for a better future, and documenting attempts at civic engagement? I won’t spend much time on those subjects. I may write about them sometimes (like in Principles and the Power of “No”, Sailor for Life, or A Moment to Pause, A Call to Act). But political commentary will not be the main thrust of my writing.

Where we are

Now, that second paragraph – yes, I have written about those. I have:

·       Written stories of success and failure (Faking It, Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3),

·       Given dubious advice (Be a Bad Dog), and

·       Offered support (Small Steps) 

I think these things so far meet the overall intent: To offer my take on what it's like to be a person doing their level best in this world. The Stick is part memoir and part commentary, and based on the feedback I received, it seems the stories ring true more than the observations about them.

In my first post I also wrote, “This blog is for anyone who feels alone or afraid. It’s for anyone who struggles to understand the world. For anyone who seeks support while they try in some way to make their small corner a little better.”

Translation: “I have no idea who is going to read this, but I hope it fills some kind of need for them, even if it’s small.” 

I’m not sure if that describes you, and you don’t need to tell me. Some of you may indeed be afraid or angry, and you may indeed struggle to understand the world. But most of you likely fall somewhere else, like, “Just wants to read a story with a little heart,” or “Needs a refuge from the curated, AI-driven, algorithmic, infinite doom scroll, to sit by the campfire in your mind and read a story about someone else's clumsy attempts to be a good human.”

I have updated the “About” page accordingly.

Interlude: About the “Cast of Characters”

At least two people reached out to make sure I was okay after reading about Ian. Probably because of the whole divorce and attempted suicide part. For the record, neither of those things happened to me. I should have made it clear that these characters represent the people I could have become if I had made different choices or found myself in different circumstances.

I would have become Stuart if I finished college without joining the Navy. 

I would have become Ian if I stayed in the Navy after my last ship and accepted major command at sea. 

I would have become Jude if my family raised me in, say, the Episcopal Church where priests can marry (I thought for a time about priesthood, but celibacy was a deal breaker. “Never have sex? Fuck that,” said teenage me). 

I could have also become Jude – Buddhist Jude – if Penelope and I never got together and I went to San Diego unattached. I’m sure I would have eventually found Buddhism and left the Navy at the end of my commitment to go all in with them. 

I don't know if I ever would have become Felix in his entirety. I can recall the exact moment he appeared in my mind – a story I will tell in the coming weeks – and I can see a scenario where Felix could have gotten a lot more time in the driver's seat of my mind.

Apart from the alternate personal histories they represent, using these different voices offers another benefit. Take the Faking It stories. The week described in those stories turned out to be the catalyst for underlying emotional disarray that would nearly eat me alive over the next four years. By then I would need a therapist since exorcists are hard to find. If I wrote those stories as “me,” I would have held back, mostly because it is just so damn embarrassing. However, by writing them as Ian – a completely different person – I can be more honest. 

That's my goal with these stories: To give the raw truth even if it's humiliating or uncomfortable.

Where we’re going

Any good writer or editor of a publication would have a schedule laid out with ideas and articles and posts in progress. 

Yeah ... I've been winging it. But after a little discussion and mentoring (you know who you are!) I put together a very rough schedule and laid out some loosely described ideas about what kinds of things I will write about next.

Among them is Tristan, the fifth member of the cast of characters. True to his nature, he is still a mystery. I know he will have a role, but I am not sure yet what it will be. I am hopeful he will make an appearance in the next few months.

I will write updates like this at the change of every season, so expect another Yardstick in September as we stroll into Autumn.

I will hold my nose and explore creating a social media presence for The Stick. It would give a forum for the other bits I mentioned in the goals for the site: “It will offer support, even if that’s in the form of a good poem or a great song, or a story just for a laugh, a moment to forget the crazy. It can offer a smile or a handshake, or a side-eye if warranted.” No promises. I’m still not sure I trust it.

I intend to document my attempts to find community. I see that being a theme in the fall.

Lastly, I feel the need to write something about the struggle to be a decent person, to create a narrative as an antidote to the poison coming out of the manosphere. A phrase comes and goes through my consciousness, and I feel compelled to address it: 

More on that later. 

A last little bit

So far, this is a small community (seriously, there’s only like ten of you). There are benefits: You can leave a comment or send me a note any time and chances are pretty good that I will get back to you. If there’s something you want more of (or less of), please let me know. There are stories I can tell, and there are stories you want to read – I’m hopeful we can do both.

If there’s someone out there that you think might be interested to read this, please pass it along.

And for those who subscribed and those who encouraged me: Sincerely, thank you.

…Now let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into.