Dear Reader,
We got back from our trip ten days ago. This past Saturday, Megan (prompted by a dashboard light on our Nissan Murano) mentioned that the Murano’s front left tire was low. I went out, took a look, and saw that, indeed, we had a slow leak. Eagle Tire is closed on weekends. I thought about airing it up, but instead gave in to my acedia and went back inside the house.
On Sunday, out of annoyance and without checking the tire (I hate vehicle maintenance), I grabbed the keys to our van for church. Upon returning home, I again ignored the problem, as I had planned to take it in the shop before work on Monday to see if the tire could be patched.
On Monday, I walked outside and, lo and behold, the tire was almost completely flat. Berating myself for waiting all weekend to deal with it, I drove half a mile to a gas station with free air, thinking if I drove slowly enough, I could make it without damaging the tire or rim. Indeed I made it, but when I got out of the car, this was what the tire looked like:
Recognizing that airing up the tire was no longer an option (I’m quick like that), I got out the spare. With the help of a friendly Bozemanite who gleefully walked over with a huge drill and socket set that looked Indy 500-certified, I successfully jacked the front end up, changed out the tire, and drove the flat over to Eagle Tire to get fixed. John was able to patch the hole (caused by a screw in the middle of the tread) and re-inflate the tire to attach to the rim, which was surprisingly (miraculously?) not damaged. They wouldn’t let me pay them for the fix, so Megan made two plates of cookies that I dropped off Tuesday morning to say thanks.
I tell you this story because it serves as a decent metaphor for life these past few years. I won’t bore you with the details (though I go into a few of them below), other than to say that it’s time I deal with a few things I’ve been putting off, one of which involves your inbox. Don’t worry: it’s not that anything’s heinously wrong, it’s just that nothing seems quite right.
So, with that as an intro sure to bait you to read, thanks (as always) for reading Second Drafts.
Craig
The World Is Too Much with Us
“Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
’Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older, too
Oh, I’m getting older, too”from “Landslide” by Stevie Nicks
I heard this 1975 Fleetwood Mac song the other day and was struck by how much I resonated with the chorus. I’d heard the song a hundred times before, but this time was different. It was my first day back from vacation, during which I had said goodbye to two daughters moving 20+ hours away. If you’ve followed along in recent months, you know we knew this time would come, but that didn’t make it any easier.
I’ve never been afraid of change or what it tends to require (Lord knows I’ve experienced a fair share of it), and while I like to think I haven’t built my life around my girls (ours was never a “child-centered” home), they’ve definitely been a big part of it. Still, as Stevie sang, “Even children get older,” and we definitely felt it on this trip.
That said, it was a good journey to Chattanooga. We listened to C.S. Lewis’ Out of the Silent Planet and Perelandra (That Hideous Strength is next), saw family and friends there and along the way, and deposited one very excited Millie at Covenant College.
Oh, and we saw the Choo Choo, which you kind of have to do when in Chattanooga.
Turning around and heading back north, I resisted the temptation to take the Port Royal, KY, exit and track down favorite author Wendell Berry (next time, Wendell, I promise). Instead, I kept driving and enjoyed the beauty of a very green and fertile Midwest, stopping at the farm for a few days and basking in the glories of a part of the country where things just grow. It was a good time being home, even for a few days.
We then hit the road back to Bozeman, being sure to catch some Chick-fil-A north of St. Joseph, MO, and making an overnight stop in Sioux Falls, SD, to meet up with Chloe on her way to the farm for five days before driving to Roanoke, VA, for her RYM church internship. While in Sioux Falls, we caught 12 innings of an American Association of Professional Baseball league double-header (go, Canaries!) in 70-degree temps, which was a perfect way to spend the evening after a long day of driving for all.
The next morning, we said goodbye to Chloe and made the 11.5-hour drive from Sioux Falls to Bozeman. Resisting the urge to stop in at the Corn Palace (been there, done that) and Wall Drug (it wasn’t hard), I called in to the office to listen in on our Montana Instruments All-Team meeting, in which it was announced we were merging/being acquired by a larger company.
I’d been in on the merger discussions for over a year, so this wasn’t a complete surprise, but I do wish I could have been there in person for the announcement. While I’m excited for my colleagues and the opportunities this deal potentially creates for them and the company, I don’t see myself sticking around to make the most of what cryogenics and the art of high tech business might have to offer; my heart’s just not in it for the long haul (and as Stevie again reminded me, “I’m getting older, too”).
That said, I’m still employed at MI (a company, by the way, whose people I really enjoy and appreciate). My superiors are aware that I’m looking to make a change (I let them know several months ago, as I always appreciated knowing when folks I supervised were wanting to transition so that I could help them). But after starting as Strategic Assistant to the CEO and being promoted to a one-man Marketing and Communications department, I’m hoping to get back to my real passions.
As many readers have observed, I have multiple interests and experiences, each of which comes with various and corresponding versions of what should be a hireable resume (or at least I think so). If I had to sum up the themes of what I’m looking for, they would be 1) the responsibility for the care of people; 2) the engagement, examination, and practice of ideas; and 3) service that serves the greater good.
This is what I’ve done and love to do. And this is what I want to do more of in real life.
Pulling the Plug
That was our “vacation”—not exactly everyone’s cup of tea with its noticeable lack of exotic beaches, trips to Disney World, and big city glamour, but that’s how we roll. If anything, the 12 days were a welcome break from the world, as one can do plenty of pondering spitting sunflower seeds and driving 60+ hours across the Great Plains.
I purposefully didn’t watch, listen to, or read any news via television, radio, or the Internet on the trip, and their absence made room to recognize anew just how much I have grown weary of the world and those trying to run it. I’m tired of the way intelligent dialogue has become anything but, and I wondered how much I’ve contributed to the morass in my own small way(s) by starting or prolonging “foolish controversies, genealogies, dissensions, and quarrels about the law, for they are unprofitable and worthless” (Titus 2:9).
I appreciated how this poem (especially the first line) by William Wordsworth speaks:
“The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.—Great God! I'd rather be
A pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea,
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.”
After thinking through all this for what seems like years now (but particularly while taking August off), I’ve decided to close things down online. Personally, I’ve unsubscribed from all but a couple of news emails and am planning to limit my social media posts to family or funny things (if I don’t suspend it indefinitely).
I’m also pulling the plug on Second Drafts—the weekly newsletter, the podcast, the book review—as I’m just not convinced I have much new or helpful to say that can’t be found somewhere else. For paid subscribers, I will initiate a prorated refund later today and you will remain a free subscriber unless you unsubscribe completely. For free subscribers, you can unsubscribe if you want, but on the rare chance that I pick things back up here down the road, you will not be notified if you unsubscribe.
I started blogging in late 2003 and have always held on to the hope that essay-length arrangements of the right words capturing thoughtful ideas could change the world. Unfortunately, with the advent of social media (which I’ve been on since 2006) and its reductionist tendencies squashing nuance and knowledge, winsomeness and wisdom, concern and love, I’ve given up on the potential for change, at least by way of my online venues.
I hate to admit it (though some of you have already figured it out), but I am not the thinker and writer I wish I were, as evidenced by both champions and critics of my writing rarely being moved to change their respective perspectives on certain issues. Despite trying off and on for 20 years, I don’t see myself becoming more persuasive via social media or newsletters; with that hope diminished, the juice just doesn’t seem worth the squeeze anymore.
Over the course of the past 19 months of producing this weekly newsletter, my audience has not grown at all. I’ve had new readers subscribe, but roughly the same number unsubscribe. I had anticipated being at 1,000-plus subscribers by now, with an 80% regular open rate; instead, I’m (still) at where I started (just over 330) with an open rate of 65%-70%. The latter figure isn’t bad, but it’s still short of my 80% goal.
I don’t want to write an echo chamber newsletter. One of my hopes in starting the newsletter was that some editor might come upon it and make room for me on her broader website, magazine, or upcoming book catalog in some form of paid capacity. At the least, I thought I might get an opportunity or two to “share” an article gratis, but when you don’t represent or speak for anyone other than yourself, you’re just another schlub with a newsletter (and it’s not like there aren’t plenty of those around).
Essentially (and to sum things up), I’m not planning to write publicly anymore; rather, I plan to focus on more journaling for the purpose of sorting out where I am and encouraging others through more personal and specific correspondence. My words online don’t feel long for this world, and I’m tired of competing with the news cycles.
Bozeman or Somewhere Else?
In case you’re wondering, no, this is not a “mid-life crisis” (I’ve already had two of those and know what they are); and no, I’m not angry or suicidal. Maybe I’m a little depressed, but that’s been the case for most of my life, so I’m used to what comes with that. This is not a cry for help or a cause for concern, nor is it an appeal to guilt or pity. I’ve just been driving around on an almost-flat tire for too long now and need to pull into the shop to work on it. I just need time and space to do that.
For those interested or wanting to ask, Megan and I are doing fine and plan to stay in Bozeman for the immediate future. If I’m honest, the increasing boujie entitlement and expense of living in Boz Angeles is wearing on both of us (and I swear, if I get cut off by another car with a California license plate, well…), but after 25 years, we’re still happily married and actually really enjoyed our recent 60+ hour road trip together.
While open to a move for the right role or opportunity, we’re committed to staying in Bozeman through the school year. Megan is teaching her sixth year of 1st grade at Petra Academy, Katie is enrolled in her third semester at Montana State, and Maddie and her husband, Bruce, are here in town, where she works part-time for our church and he has a few entrepreneurial irons in the fire (Shed Straps and Morel Technology).
Personally, I’m excited for cooler weather (though not this weekend), pumpkin spice lattes, hikes with Peaches, and reading and writing without the pressure of self-imposed deadlines consuming my off-peak hours. I need to get more regular exercise, pay more attention to what and how much I eat, study the Bible and spend more time alone with God. And, I want to find new work that helps people more directly and lines up more with who I am and what I have to offer.
So, I’ll sign off for now with one final thanks for coming along on this part of the journey. I’m sorry to shut things down, but I trust you understand. You’re welcome to send along thoughts or job leads, and I hope you still stay subscribed (you don’t have to do anything to do so), as I’ll report back here if and when I land someplace new.
Thanks, all. Have a good Labor Day Weekend and enjoy the start of a new season.
I’m hoping to.
“So, take my love, take it down
Oh, climb a mountain and turn around
And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills
Well, the landslide will bring it down
And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills
Well, the landslide will bring it down
The landslide will bring it down”from “Landslide” by Stevie Nicks
“Humble yourselves, therefore,
under the mighty hand of God
so that at the proper time he may exalt you,
casting all your anxieties on him,
because he cares for you.”1 Peter 5:6