My 2001 presence

October 1, 2008


2,960

Eight years ago, I had no Internet presence.

This is not completely true. Eight years ago, as we prepared to roll over into 2001, I was pretty active on the Internet. I had already created three Web sites, including a site for local band Floodplain and a personal writing site called “…Prying.” But I had no presence in the sense of searchable product. My personal sites were rarely linked to, so my standing in the world of search engine metrics was a big fat zero.

Google, eight years ago

Fast forward, and here I am. Nearly 3,000 results. Not a lot, but worthwhile. Nearly a thousand of these are surely BMOWP blog posts, and at least a thousand more are probably based on date and tag hierarchy in BMOWP.

Google, now

I say, “Here I am.” But really, I should say here we are. With blogging, social networking and the advancement of public records on the Internet, most of us can Google our name and find a vast amount of information, both self-published and governmentally controlled.

It’s an ego boost, for sure. And it’s an incredibly revealing exercise. What do others see of you? If someone searched your name, what would they find? How are you presenting yourself to the public, and is it okay with you?

I’m fine with my standing on the Internet. I feel I’m represented well. Others, not so much – ask any kid whose parents find drinking pictures on Facebook.

Where were you in terms of searchability eight years ago? In honor of Google’s 10th anniversary, they have set up a special Google search based on their January 2001 database.

Were you Internet popular in 2001?

Is there anyone whose standing went down?

Ask Al Gore.

Tags: Blogging, Meta, Vilhauer |

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I’m back…

September 7, 2008


Chances are, you haven’t seen me around for a few days.

There’s a reason. I’ve been on vacation, in northern Virginia, where Kerrie’s parents now live. It’s about an hour west of Washington D.C., and right in the heart of historical Virginia, where the streets are all cobblestone and the shops all consist of the same warped windows that have lasted through two of the country’s most recognized wars.

But more than that, I’ve been on a mini sabbatical, a rest from the world, respite from my constant wordsmithing. I’ve been recharging, as they say, and I won’t lie – I feel it.

I feel like I’m bursting with inspiration, my mind ready to take on the challenges of writer’s block. I feel like I’ve got things to say. Weekly and monthly columns to get around to. Books to pretend I actually read.

And, I feel relaxed. Probably for the first time since I stayed home with Sierra during my paternity leave. Relaxed, and thrilled about it.

With this relaxation, with the utter lack of responsibility and no need for critical thinking, I made some incredible realizations. Realizations that might seem banal, too simple to be revelations. But revelations all the same.

I realized that Washington D.C. isn’t a tourist paradise, but a legitimate amazing feat of urban design, mass transit and epic history. I realized that even the most hardened cynic can feel patriotic around the Lincoln Memorial. And I realized that after three years I still haven’t come to full terms with my grandfather’s death, a veteran of both the Vietnam and Korean wars, two wars memorialized in D.C. and located in close proximity for the maximum in emotional drainage.

I realized that history is unchanging, and that no matter how many layers of paint or remodeling jobs you do the ghosts of history still stand, watching you, Civil War caps tipped to the right, bayonets sagging under the weight of their ammunition, thousands of lives wasted for a quarrel, their remains creating the landscape that we trod upon.

I realized that 350+ pictures is probably enough.

I realized that a beer at noon tastes better than any consumed at night, that seafood pasta at home can reach restaurant like excellence and that the only thing you should do while on vacation is eat and drink and eat some more.

I realized that a week can easily be wasted just watching your daughter grow up.

Most of all, I realized that time off is necessary. That it’s healthy. That the problems of travel and close quarters and weather and delays and rising tension and lost productivity mean nothing when matched to the sheer expanse of soothing catharsis that comes from a few hours away from the grid. Or a few days. Or a week. Plus.

That’s all in the past, though. I’m back, and I’m glad.

Tags: Blogging, Grandpa Boyer, Meta, On..., Outdoors, Travel, Vilhauer, Writing |

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Much More Sure

August 20, 2008


“I hate cameras. They’re just so much more sure than I am about everything.” -John Steinbeck.

It’s been quiet around these parts for the past week or so. And with good reason. I’ve been hard at work, giving my newest hobby an outlet, creating a special place for all of this photography I’ve been spitting out.

Instead of ruin the quietude of Black Marks on Wood Pulp with image after image of Sierra or some random line of chairs, I’ve gone ahead and done the next best thing - I’ve branched off of Black Marks on Wood Pulp, into another blogging foray.

That blog is Much More Sure, taken from the brilliant quote by John Steinbeck - a quote that sums up everything I feel about photography; its stark realities, its unflinching eye, its clear look at the world and, how ultimately, we’re all bound by its power. A power that, no matter what, shows nothing but truth. (Barring a Photoshop skill or two, that is.)

Much More Sure. The new domain will be www.MuchMoreSure.com, but for now you can access it at photo.blackmarks.net.

Visit. Subscribe. Enjoy.

Tags: Baby Pictures, Blogging, Meta, Much More Sure, Photography |

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Falling off the hobby horse

August 14, 2008


Every few months, a bubble occurs at work. It tends to show up after a few days of downtime, when scratching together a few hours of billable time seems impossible. It comes on suddenly, with a flurry of meetings. My desk begins to pile up. My life turns up another gear. Everything is due tomorrow, and the end is nowhere in sight. It bleeds into my free time; free time that may already be stretched by prior engagements and home projects and an ever-growing pile of mind-numbing DVRed programs.

That’s the nature of the business. I grumble. But I also bask in the glow of vocation, knowing that someone depends on me for his or her words, plans and ideas. That I get paid to do something I enjoy, something I should stay quiet about lest they realize what they’re paying me to do.

But man, it sure wreaks havoc on my hobbies.

As words flow toward one end, the means to keep up with the hobby side of writing dries up; the paths diverted. What was once fun becomes work. A source of pride becomes an millstone, hanging from my neck. Taunting me with its demise.

Because with the important things claiming their share of my life’s time, my hobbies fall back a bit. I am afforded no more time to write on my own. And newer, shinier hobbies show up, too. I sometimes think my computer keyboard is jealous of our new camera. Of each new book. Of the Olympics and, in the past, the NBA Finals.

And from there, things deteriorate. Out of practice, or with my ideas used up elsewhere, it feels like something is stuck, like writer’s block has set in, or that my thoughts have been stuck in my head too long, are no longer timely or spontaneous or fresh. This leads to abandonment, of ditching a great outlet because of the convincing nature of busyness.

In this way, work can get in the way of our hobbies. And sometimes, that’s bound to happen. But without that outlet, what do we have?

So I think a little harder. I glance at the screen a few times, scanning the page for something I’ve forgotten. Then I start typing. For me. For my sanity.

And to remember that our hobbies are crucial. Make time for them. Take a few minutes and do something you truly enjoy, for yourself, for those you care about, anything that gives you the feeling of artistic merit or release, even if that release comes from creating a small city out of model trains or playing an artful game of Madden 2005 or writing or designing your own site or crocheting rabbit-shaped stuffed animals or decorating the house. Even at work. During break. That taking 15 minutes out of your work day to do something fun is more productive than stewing over your work.

Remember that, above all else, hobbies are for us to unwind. That they’ll always be there when you come back. That they don’t understand the meaning of time. Most importantly, remember that our hobbies may not give us the support we need to live comfortably, but they certainly make life a lot more enjoyable.

Tags: Blogging, Books, Career, Friends, Meta, Photography, Television, Vilhauer, Writing |

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Sierra picture disguised as meta post

August 8, 2008


Just testing out the new Wordpress 2.6. And, while I’m at it, I’m checking the sweet WP-Flickr plugin.

Categories are all messed up, but I’ll be working on those. Some day. Or not. Whatever.

Here’s the picture.

sierra

Tags: Baby Pictures, Meta, Sierra |

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New domains

July 31, 2008


It’s been busy around the office and at home, and it doesn’t look like things are letting up.

With that, a quick note. I have been sitting on two domains - mrvilhauer.com and coreyvilhauer.com - for a few months now. I’ve finally gotten around to activating them and sending them here.

So go ahead. Now you have three ways to get a hold of me! HOORAY!

More real BMOWP goodness to come. Eventually. I think.

Tags: Blogging, Meta, Random |

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Books are so last year

July 21, 2008


Black Marks on Wood Pulp used to be a litblog.

Well, almost.

Okay. Not even close. But somewhere along the line, I picked up the classification. I occasionally wrote for Millions. I frequently penned lists and news and other thoughts about books and literature. I had it on my mind at all times, so it was a common topic.

And, for this reason – for these two or three times a week I’d utter something about literature or literacy or libraries or books – I somehow gained the reputation as a book blogger.

Whether it was the book-adorned banners or the literary blog name, I was given litblogger status in some select circles.

The funny thing is, I never was one.

Aside from the What I’ve Been Reading columns, columns that have dwindled down to bare bones, I have never been a consistent fountain of book knowledge. I’m blissfully unaware of the industry, have never met a real author for longer than 15 minutes, have never interviewed anyone who has written a book that I’ve actually read and, no, I don’t even hardly read books anymore.

Oh, I tried. I was going to be a litblogger, focusing on books and stuff like that. But I couldn’t do it.

So for all of you who have me on your “book blogging” lists, over there on your sidebar, or who list me under “books” or “reading” or “litblogs” in your feed reader, I apologize. That is, if you haven’t already completely ditched me, wondering why you subscribed to my feed in the first place.

It’s a misnomer. I’m not fulfilling the category. Instead, move me over to the “personal” section. Or, as 9rules classifies me, Commentary. I write about whatever, and sometimes that means I write about books. But other times, that means I write about babies or Ben Folds or photography or farting.

Just for the record, that is.

If you want to still think I’m a litblogger, go ahead. I won’t mind.

Just don’t tell the book reviewers over at the New York Times.

Tags: Blogging, Books, Literature, Meta, Writing |

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