I've Done Worse Things...
For Six Months Straight
On March 29th, I started Noon at the Park with a meager invitation to readers to join me on the trail. Along the way, I promised musings on inane, low-stakes topics. Six months later, I’m pround to say I’ve stayed faithful to my purpose. Here’s a recap of the ground we’ve covered so far.
Words Matter
After departing the trailhead, I quickly led you down a rabbit hole discussing the flagrantly popular misuse of the word “adventure”. In the months since, I published similar essays on the recent wonton abuse of terms like “hand crafted” and “unique”. I don’t relish publishing articles exposing improper syntax and arguing over linguistic semantics. But this shit’s important! If language is an art, then words are the brush strokes. So if people aren’t careful, their patois devolves into a puke-inducing Pollock painting.
3D Anaglyph Snoozefest
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’ve long held a soft spot in my heart for old-timey, anaglyph 3D images. In recent years, I’ve taken to turning some of my own digital photographs into 3D using Photoshop. So in May, I started sharing some of my best pics through the “Vistas” heading of my newsletter.
I spent many an hour creating the images you’ll find there (the one from Steamtown National Historic Site literally took me a full day!) Its a good thing I find the work personally satisfying, because public reaction over the past few months can only be described as D.O.A.
Despite loads of stock photograhpy suggesting otherwise, maybe no one really uses red-and-cyan glasses anymore. Or maybe they’re simply impossible to find on Amazon. Or maybe I’m just a lonely old geezer, and there’s no one else out there into this kind of thing.
No matter, I will continue to suffer for my art. But I’ll be sure to include original, unedited photos for all the 2D flat-earthers out there.
Nightstand Selections
In June, I launched “The Bookstore”—a new section dedicated to sharing thoughts about my most recent reads. By now, you’ve noticed I don’t care much about focusing on newly-published works. Its takes me a long time to get around to reading titles that interest me. Its entirely possible I’ll write a cutting-edge review Beowulf next month.
But I like to think I’ve contributed some interesting titles to your reading list. Over the past few months, I’ve exposed you to some true oddities, like feather thieves, hurricane lizards, plastic squid, and Eric Idle. And just to balance the scales, I also reviewed one abjectly boring waste of time.
Hints, Allegations, and (No) Things Left Unsaid
If you get that obscure reference to a Collective Soul album, guess what? You’re an old coot like me! So you probably also have a litany of gripes and pet peeves about humanity that get under your skin like bot flies. Truth be told, I started Noon at the Park purely to exorcise persistent thoughts about the foibles and failings of our species.
That’s why I published a missive on our odd tendency to cluster in violation of personal space. That’s why I published a rant on the inane desire for vanity plates. And that’s why I railed against the baseless fetishization of images from space. Once its on my Substack—hopefully—its no longer in my head! Then, surely, I’ll return back to my natural happy state, right?
Most Popular
By far, the two most popular articles I’ve published so far were a piece about the hardships of tent camping as we age, and a piece about baseless public outrage over rising gas prices.
The former reached—by far—the most eyeballs. And while the latter didn’t score as many readers, people sure had a lot to say when I posted it to social media! In retrospect, both pieces really speak to our inability to square with cycles of repetition over time. In so many aspects of existence, we seem inexplicably trapped in an endless, fractal loop of experience.
I warned you on Day 1, Dear Reader…life is a damp squib. But your company makes everything a little better. So…
A Sincere Note of Thanks
I am truly grateful for my growing list of subscribers on Substack. Its hard to express how meaningful I find your interest and support.
For me, writing is a solitary endeavor for selfish ends. That is to say, I don’t usually expect anyone to read—much less appreciate—what I put on (digital) paper. But with every new subscription, I am encouraged, I feel kinship, and I grow ever-more grateful.
Congratulations! Great job!
Congratulations, I'm almost at 6 months myself!