Resolution: Revolution

Year-End Wrap-Up

Bloomington, Indiana, 1980

Welcome to my final Substack newsletter of 2024 - the wrap-up, the completion of my goal to write one per week for the entire year! New Years is a good time to reflect and set the tone for the year ahead. I’m feeling grateful and inspired for what’s ahead. I have some exciting announcements of things I’ve been working on that are coming to fruition in the New Year - exciting to me, anyway.

That Kid in the Photo

I don’t have many photos of myself from adolescence through my teens. My parents didn’t take a lot of photos in those days, just as well. My parents are thankfully still around and in my life, so I don’t have that much reason to reminisce. Like most of us, a lot of it I’d rather forget.

I’m guessing this photo is from 1980, in the basement rec room of the house on the east side of Bryan Park where I spent most of my childhood in Bloomington, Indiana. I can’t explain why the Jim Zorn Seahawks jersey - I had an older brother who made rules about which sports teams I was allowed to like. My brother took this photo with his ubiquitous Kodak Instamatic camera. I wasn’t having it. He had a passion for photography, but he hardly ever took pictures of people - mostly he photographed buildings and landmarks around town. [Jake - if you’re reading - did you save all those photos?]

My childhood is undocumented in part because it’s unremarkable. We didn’t travel all that much, and when we did it was to the same places to see relatives. I wasn’t a good athlete, nor an academic overachiever. I was mediocre in many ways, unmotivated. I had a very active imagination and inner life, but a rather un-self aware public face. I recently caught up with a friend who was the object of my unconfessed romantic fancy in kindergarten. She told me the thing she remembered about me is people could see my butt crack as all my pants sagged.¹

My active fantasy life is part of the reason I didn’t excel at sports and school. In my fantasy life, I was amazing at all sports, and a celebrated scholar in all fields of study. I hated facing the painful reality that I wasn’t remarkable when coaches benched me or teachers gave me poor grades. I escaped the consequences by going deeper into my fantasy life.

Then I found music, or rather music found me. I’d always loved music and long fantasized about being a famous musician. Learning to play music gave me a way out of my isolation into a reality I found compelling.

The kid in the photo above is learning drums, finally discovering some discipline by practicing every day. He wants to be good at drums enough to really work at it - unlike sports or school. He loves Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, and Aerosmith. He’s starting to get into some punk and new wave bands, especially The Clash. He spends countless hours playing along with records, trying to play just like his heroes. Still, when he dreams of being a rock star on stage, he’s always playing guitar, something he doesn’t know how to do!

Bloomington, Indian, 1983. Photo by Mike Whybark

The photo above is from 1983. This kid is happier and at lot more self-confident having finally taken his drumming public. He plays in a couple bands that regularly play shows, and he has an amazing girlfriend named Freda. He has amazing friends in the punk scene, many fellow musicians. He feels very lucky. He doesn’t really much daydream anymore, because his life is mostly fun and interesting. He’s doing better in school because he wants to have opportunities. Basically, he’s ready to chase the life he wants to live.

I believe that I was indeed very lucky. I met the right people at the right time and had the right sort of encouragement. I became more confident because I met people outside my family who believed in me and admired me, I had a great community of motivated kids around me - kids the adults looked down on, but were motivated and effective for what they cared about, what I cared about. Freda believed I could make it in music, and that’s all I really needed to take steps like moving to Boston to chase our dream.

Since I had such a lucky break to discover my path so young, I feel some responsibility to that depressed, isolated kid. I feel the need to tell him it’s all gonna turn out OK. He’s on my mind in those peak moments, if he could only see me now... That thought motivates me, not only in music but also as a husband and father, and in service to others.

I talk to a lot of young artists, and I know many of them have stories like mine. They create a persona that enables them to be confident and effective, while they are masking some major insecurities. They tell me they’re playing a long game with their career. Of course they are, it’s either a long game or a quick burnout. I know all about the long game because I’ve been in it for 40 years, and I feel like it’s just coming together. Maybe that’s what I’ve been telling myself for 40 years, and maybe it’s all blurring the lines between fantasy and reality, magical thinking and actual outcomes. It doesn’t matter, because it motivates me to keep going, keep working, and not slip into complacency.

Freda and I split up as a couple in 1991, but we remain close friends, confidantes, and sources of information and inspiration to one another. I love meeting new people, but I tend to lean on people I’ve known and trusted for a long time. We all strive to be better by remaining accountable to our efforts to be better. That is why I have grown to love making resolutions.

Last Year’s Resolutions

Last year I had two resolutions: to start taking my stretching, yoga, and mobility work seriously, and to write in my Substack every week. As for the first resolution, I’d been doing half-assed physical therapy for a running injury for over a year without much improvement. I had to find some discipline to get better, and I have. It’s helped me to improve to the point I’ll run another half-marathon in early March. As for the second resolution, here we are. This is my final post of 2024, and I guess it would be number 52. I’m so glad to have found the resolve, because it’s become so important and valuable to me. My goals associated with the resolution were to start building a community, and to develop a book idea. I have done both, and I’m thrilled. More on this soon.

I’ve tended to focus on very specific fitness goals as resolutions, not “go to the gym and get in shape,” because I’ve been doing pretty well with the health and fitness goals since my early 40s. I have a good routine for generally keeping fit, but there’s always room for improvement. I’m resolving to be more consistent and intentional in my strength training, but I know that’s a boring topic so I’ll move on to the next one…

My Relationship with Technology

Perhaps my greatest wish for 2025 is that I’ll be very busy. I’m at the point in my career where being busy means things are going well. I have my direction, the structure is in place; now it’s about keeping my nose to the grindstone.

I trust many of you share my feeling of unease around technology these days. We’re seeing how Big Tech and its billionaire would-be technocrats are acting in their own self-interest, as opposed to some tech utopia that would lead to a more egalitarian society of wealth and opportunity for all. It feels dystopian and scary. I have an uneasy feeling that tech advancements aren’t really making things better for the masses. In some ways, it’s making things worse.

I’ve never met anyone who feels deeply satisfied after scrolling content on their phone for hours; I believe it is intrinsically unsatisfying and frustrating. We accomplish nothing and are left with a feeling of disappointment and vague regret. Nevertheless, we’ll be back again, it’s just too easy. I believe most of us are - to some degree - addicted to the tiny dopamine hit we get from scrolling. We didn’t end up this way by accident - addiction is the business model, the way to scale commerce and retain subscribership. The only challenge is keeping people “on platform” as long as possible. Just like cocaine or vape pens, the more addictive the product, the greater the profit. Like with tobacco or ultra-processed food, the powers-that-be know it’s bad for us.

I’ve railed against generative AI in these pages because I strongly believe the industry should pay the creators whose work trained their products - I believe it’s theft at scale that people who care about creativity need to fight. It’s theft at scale, but as Gen AI content takes over, it’s also uninteresting and uninspiring. Have you started seeing this stuff on your scroll? Obvious AI content - it’s remarkable because it’s so dull. If you take the humanity out of art it loses its power and purpose - without power and purpose it’s just content for the pipes. But here we are, still scrolling, still looking for inspiration in the least likely of places, as we experience diminishing returns day after day. Where does it end?

I strongly believe I can be critical of tech while still embracing it in my personal and work life. I use content to accomplish professional goals all the time, mostly to lead people to what I consider meaningful art. Our greatest hope when we open an app is that it will deliver something meaningful, point us to something that will deliver us from the slack-jawed passivity into something that stirs our soul. I’ve determined that I can’t change technology or the ways other people use it, so I embrace it to a point. We’re fully down the rabbit hole of "media consumption” on “platforms” at this point; I have no interest in shaming anyone or wishing things would go back to the prehistoric time of dial-up Internet and industry gatekeepers. What I can do is look at my own use of technology and consumption of media and make sure it doesn’t hijack my brain chemistry and wreck my attention span.

I saw a quote from one of my favorite podcasters, ultra-athlete Rich Roll. Roll is a former entertainment lawyer who had a radical transformation in his 40s after several health scares related to his alcoholism and poor diet. He became a sober vegan ultra-runner and turned his life around. His guests include some of the greatest thinkers in health and wellness.

Roll says, “If you can’t sit silently with yourself, with your thoughts, then you are not living an intentional, examined life. [self-distraction] robs you of something we need as human beings, and that is rumination and boredom…that is the juice of creativity.” He recommends placing boundaries around your sources of distraction (phone, social media), or you’re depriving yourself and your audience of your best work. I feel he’s speaking directly to me, telling me what I know is true. If I want to be effective, I need to heed his advice.

As a recovering addict, Roll understands addiction far more than I ever will. This resonates with me because, even if scrolling and mindless consumption isn’t sapping my creativity as I suspect it is, at minimum it’s taking time away from more productive efforts. I’ve long expected some sort of new Luddite movement where young people will start to call bullshit on the world that tech innovation has created, to carve out spaces were we can live in the moment and truly enjoy one another’s company. Notwithstanding some modest efforts to get people to put their phones away in public spaces (h/t to Jack White), I’m not seeing much widespread pushback yet. Maybe we’re all too distracted to even stop and consider how it’s harming us individually and culturally.

If you’ve read this far, I’m going to assume you’re actually interested in the subject matter. I’m going to recommend a book by Freda Love Smith, and YES it’s the same Freda who was my girlfriend for 9 years, who helped me find my path as a lonely, depressed adolescent. Freda is an author now, and a damn good one. Late last year she published I Quit Everything, How One Woman’s Addiction to Quitting Helped Her Confront Bad Habits and Embrace Midlife. You should buy this book. The TLDR is Freda is stuck in a rut during the pandemic and tries to address each of her vices/ low-key addictions one by one to become fully sober. Her vices are sugar, caffeine, alcohol, cannabis, and social media.

In part inspired by Freda’s book, I’ve done a bit of soul searching on my own. Unlike Freda, I’m taking on my vices one at a time. Over the past couple years I’ve been examining my relationship with alcohol. I’ve discovered that, if left unchecked, I’ll fall into having one to three drinks pretty much every single day. That glass of wine at the end of a long work day feels like a reward. I make rules for myself so that I’ll feel better, look younger and healthier, and be more productive. A few years ago I started taking months off from drinking, and I discovered that I DO feel better, look better, and get more done when I’m not drinking. Therefore, I decided to take the current calendar quarter, from October through year-end, completely booze-free.

I’m not planning to go booze-free into the new year as a resolution, but I do have a new, long-term goal for the kind of drinker I’ll be going forward. I like to drink, and I’ll never be an off-the-rails drunk. I needed the distance to figure out that I want to be a true social drinker. I’ll drink moderately at social occasions where drinking is something I’m enjoying in the company of others. It isn’t a reward at the end of the day, or an obligation during an afternoon spent watching football. It’s only for special occasions. To me, this is optimizing my use, in exactly the way I hope to optimize my use of technology.

My media consumption is a creeping habit, just like alcohol, but it’s harder to control. It’s good in moderation, important for my work, but how do you maintain appropriate moderation when the platforms want us on there more often and longer? I don’t know, but I’m going to figure it out. I need to resist the desire to open an app the second I feel bored, anxious, or uninspired.

One thing I do from time to time that I strongly recommend is going on a long hike by myself without any media. I feel anxious when I set out because my brain is telling me I’ll be bored without my phone, without my AirPods. But then a magical thing happens a mile or so down the trail: my brain kicks on and the ideas bubble to the surface. I bring a note pad to write down ideas, because they always come. I know if I give it 5 or 6 miles, I’ll be refreshed and inspired.

My resolution is to think of consumption like I think about drinking: something I can use in moderation during times in my day when I’m not trying to be productive. I’m not limiting “screen time” because not all screen time is bad - some of it is absolutely necessary. A food addict needs to eat to survive, but to overcome the addiction they need to redefine what eating means to them. That’s what I’ll do. That’s how I’ll be more productive this year.

Writing a Book

Last year I committed to this Substack, and I’ll continue to post more or less once a week. My goal this year was to get to 1,000 subscribers, and I’ll end the year around 900. That’s fine - great actually. I didn’t really understand what it meant to have 1,000 subscribers, and getting this close is a major accomplishment. Subs were a means to an end, my real goal was to find an audience for the book I want to write.

I have a topic, and the beginning of an outline. I’m practically an empty-nester; and if I recapture any of the time I’ve been wasting on the scroll these past few years, I’ll have time to do it all. I will have a manuscript within a year.

Making Music Incognito

I have an idea for a way to write, produce, and release music without anyone knowing expect the few people with whom I’ll collaborate. Eventually I’ll make another solo album, but first I’m gonna put out some music that I think a lot of people will enjoy, drawing mostly on the talents of others, with whom I’ll share ownership and profit, if any. This is the last you’ll hear of it, but if you think you can figure it out, let me know!

1. I need to take issue with my parents over this one. Having no ass is a family trait, thankfully one I haven’t passed down to my own kids. I spent part of the second kindergarten semester attending school in Glencoe, Illinois, while my dad had treatment for what turned out to be an incorrect cancer diagnosis. The first day I showed up for class, a girl laughed and pointed at me, “Look, his pants are falling down and you can see his butt crack!” Obviously the kids in Bloomington had noticed but hadn’t mentioned it to me. Does that mean they’re nicer people, or just indifferent? Anyway, after I reported the Glencoe incident, my mom got me a belt.