Category Archives: Introspection

The Future of Blogging

I started blogging nearly 28 years ago. Inspired by a friend, I launched a glorified online journal to force myself into a regular writing rhythm. It worked, and for years I poured my thoughts and imaginings into this online space.

A lot has changed since then. The purpose has long since shifted. When my day job requires hours and hours of writing, I no longer need the outlet for dreams and ideas. Social media has consumed the space and likely corrupted it. Now our dreams and ideas go to those digital spaces to be monetized by corporate behemoths (and quickly forgotten and forsaken).

Yet I stubbornly cling to the form, mainly because I’m not a fan of change. Despite a grand total of three gaps, I’ve managed to blog at least once a month going back to December 1998. I like a good streak.

But sometimes I wonder.

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What It’s Like in Minnesota Right Now

I hesitate to post this, but I want to give people around the country a glimpse of what Minnesota is going through right now in the midst of an ICE surge and after the killing of Renee Good. I’m a middle-aged white guy who lives in a first-ring suburb of 20,000 people. Minneapolis is miles away and we don’t go there often. My family is not suffering like some are, but it’s far from normal.

Here’s what I’ve experienced:

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In Remembrance of Roosevelt Elementary School in Keego Harbor, Michigan

I just came across the story of Roosevelt Elementary School being cleared for demolition. Apparently there’s been an ongoing legal fight for the past few years between the West Bloomfield School District and residents over tearing down the school. The Court of Appeals just OKed demolition.

I don’t have anything to add to that debate. But I did attend Roosevelt for two years and the news triggered a wave of memories.

Let’s stroll down memory lane…

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Reflecting on 20 Years

It’s been an incredibly busy spring season. I’m just now catching my breath at the end of June. I’ve had a few milestones—including 20 years of business, five years of local news, and a kid graduating high school—that make me a little introspective.

The past two months have included a member drive, a five-year anniversary, a bike safety event, a bike ride, a parade, a mural unveiling, a massive four-day community event, launching a summer contest, a high school graduation, a grad party, the 20th anniversary of my business, and my brain has now shut down so I can’t remember anything else.

Whew. That’s an understatement.

So when I get a moment, I’m reflective. A few thoughts…

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West St. Paul Reader: Five Year Anniversary

Five years ago today I launched West St. Paul Reader with the first-ever post, a recap of a City Council meeting.

That first post really epitomizes the work we do: It’s narrowly focused on what happens in our first-ring suburb. It celebrates what’s happening in the community. It serves as an archive to mark what happened, when, and why. I just spent some time reflecting on that first post five years later.

Reflecting on Five Years

We’re doing a whole five-year anniversary member drive with an audacious goal of 50 members to mark five years by 5/25. But more than flogging a member drive and trying to bring in new members, today I’m trying to reflect on five years of this work.

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Colorful Days

Life has been full lately. In the midst of busy, it’s hard to appreciate the moments. It often feels like near misses when the stars don’t align like the perfect photo.

  • Fall colors came into full bloom and then it snowed.
  • The world bursts into flame and people torch one another for not seeing it the same way.
  • The colors are magnificent, but the day is overcast and gloomy.
  • The “You Are Loved” yard sign in this photo was stolen the night the photo was taken by kids running down the street.

But there is color and art and nature. Even when it’s dreary. Especially when it’s hard.

Circular, rainbow-colored mosaic, fall leaves, and a "You Are Loved" yard sign.

A Tour of Tragedy

This summer during my annual trip to Kansas to spend time with family, I took a trip of my own to Colorado. I have a hard time resisting the mountains, and this year I caved. But I took a detour on the way to out to visit two historical sites. It was a tour of tragedy.

Less than 50 miles apart in Eastern Colorado are the Sand Creek Massacre National Historic Site and the Granada Relocation Center, known as Camp Amache.

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Crap Week

Last week was a crap week.

Being a writer, I process through writing. But I’ve had a hard time processing this week. I’ve wanted to talk about it, but I’m not sure how. It’s actually made me withdraw from social media (which is probably an OK thing).

But sometimes I’ve learned it’s just easier to get things off your chest, even if you don’t have the right words to say.

So yeah, crap week:

  • Last Monday night, my cousin injured two police officers, killed my uncle, and then took his own life. I traveled to attend my uncle’s funeral, offering what little support I could to my parents, grandparents, cousins, and extended family. It was an emotionally overwhelming few days, and I’m just the out-of-town nephew. My uncle, Tom Madden, was quiet, liked the simple life, and did right by people. He served on the school board for over 20 years, an inspiring example of public service. As his son wrote, “He was always there no matter what.” There’s a lot more to say about Tom, but I just haven’t had the time and space to fully process it.
  • Saturday morning I heard the news that progressive Christian writer Rachel Held Evans had died suddenly after a series of seizures and a medically induced coma. While I didn’t personally know Rachel (though I think we emailed at some point), I’ve read all her books. Inspired: Slaying Giants, Walking on Water, and Loving the Bible Again was one of my favorite books so far this year. The Why Christian conference she co-organized was incredibly inspiring to me. Her voice will be deeply missed.
  • In the midst of all that, I heard the news that Tessie Sylvester died. Her story gained national attention in 2017 when her husband died from complications of ALS the same day she was diagnosed with inoperable stage four cancer. She leaves behind two boys and a mountain of caring family. I didn’t directly know Tessie either, but her sister served as the mayor of West St. Paul, and her strength and resolve during this trying time was a sight to behold. After a funeral later this week, there will be a celebration of Tessie’s life at an arcade on Saturday (she said to “make it fun!”). You can support the family through this memorial fund.

So like I said, a crap week.

I don’t know what to say in the face of all that.

I keep coming back to these words from the Book of Common Prayer. They’ve often struck me in a certain way, and I shared them with my mom on Monday night when no one knew whether my uncle was alive or not:

Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love’s sake. Amen.