Geo's Logic

There's Only One Thing That Matters.

2012-01-17T19:00:00.006-05:00

Today I learned that my dog has early signs of congestive heart failure, and that his health is quickly diminishing.

For anyone who knows me, you can only imagine how devastated I am. Mookie is my absolute best friend, my constant companion. The thought of losing him paralyzes me.

I always knew he had a shorter lifespan than me, and that someday I'd lose him. But he is only 9-years old. It's too soon.

If life is so fragile and unpredictable, why do some people get so angry? Why do people bother with trivial arguments, competing with people, jockeying for money and power? Why do people steal and lie and become greedy? Don't they realize that none of that matters?

All I want in life is more time with my best friend.

On proper medications, Mook may live several more years. But he could also pass away at any moment - with or without the meds.

For now, I will enjoy our time together as much as I can.

Giving Thanks to Those Who Helped Me.

2012-01-02T23:56:00.018-05:00

I hate new year's resolutions, almost as much as I hate end of the year lists. Both are ridiculous (lists are just lazy and resolutions are for the weak). I'm also not a fan of declaring goals for yourself at the start of the new year.

Rather, I'm a fan of appreciating everything you have, at all times. And since I've been feeling pretty fortunate about my life lately, I wanted to take a minute to publicly acknowledge a few folks who've gone out of their way to help me with stuff over the years. Without them, I probably wouldn't be sitting so pretty.

I'm not talking family - they're supposed to be there for you. I'm talking about folks who believed in me enough to lend their support. Three people come to mind immediately.

1. The fellow in the snazzy hat in the above picture was my college journalism professor, Andrew Ciofalo. I was in a few of his classes at Loyola College and I enjoyed his teaching style - hands-off, relying upon experiential learning. Rather than preaching ideas or simply lecturing, he gave us goals and asked us to reach (or surpass) them. He instilled a sense of pride and ownership of the projects that made us want to do a good job.

Of course, many people skated through such classes. And a few people accused him of not actually teaching. But for me, it was effective. I didn't know what I could do and he forced us to experiment and push our boundaries.

When I was an undergrad, Ciofalo said to me, "If you go to Columbia for grad school, I'll bring you along on this study abroad program I'm planning for Rome."

So, naturally, I went to Columbia. A few years after graduating from J-school, I stopped by Ciofalo's office at Loyola. It was the first time I'd seen him in nearly a decade and I reminded him of his promise. He responded, "We just started a summer program in Italy last summer. You should do it with us next summer."

And I did. In the summer of 2003, I spent seven weeks teaching photojournalism in Cagli (right), possibly the most charming place on Earth. I returned three more summers (twice in 2006), and then taught in Ciofalo's program in Northern Ireland in 2007.

The programs were wonderful experiences - hanging in the piazza, drinking wine with students as we discussed photo ideas and journalism concepts. I bet the students didn't even realize they were learning. It was immersion in the local culture as well as immersion in education. I met so many great people who I still maintain friendships with, students and Italians alike.

Ciofalo also hired me as an adjunct at Loyola, starting in 2004. I taught all sorts of writing classes over the next three years. That experience, along with the summer abroad stuff, led me to the job I hold today.

I owe Ciofalo big time, and I would do just about anything for the guy (as well as for his ex-wife, Judy Dobler, who was also one of my favorite and most influential teachers when I was at Loyola).

2. I contacted Tim Whitaker during the fall of 2005 and told him that I wanted to write for the Philadelphia Weekly. I had not written anything longer than 1,500 words during my time at the Daily News but Tim was totally into it. He started assigning me stuff in January 2006, a few weeks after I took a buyout from the Daily News.

He gave me a chance to write long - 3,000 to 5,000 words. It was great. I experimented with style and voice, and Tim (along with editor Sara Kelly) gave me room to breath. I wrote several cover stories that year and more the next. Until Tim's time at PW ended in 2008, I wrote dozens of stories for him, including a column.

But it was more than just the freedom that he offered. He invited me to be a part of the process, something that I never experienced during nearly 12 years at the Daily News. He asked me to come speak to the young writers and interns, and he had me sit in on a few staff meetings. He actually valued my input and ideas.

When Tim launched Mighty Writers (above), a free writing program for Philly kids, during the fall of 2009, I offered my assistance. I taught a workshop that fall. I wasn't good - teaching little kids is way different and much harder than teaching college kids (which, by the way, isn't easy either). But I was invited back the following fall, and later, Tim invited me to be on the advisory board. They don't ask much of me but they seem to appreciate every little thing I can do for them.

3. I don't remember how it came about but Susan Gregg invited me to meet with her at Wilmington College back in 2001. Despite my never having taught anything, she invited me to be an adjunct at the university. She gave me a world of leeway, a little bit of advice and then sent me into the classroom. And it was amazing. I loved it from day one.

Not all of the students did. I was a rookie and I made some mistakes. But I would sit with Susan and talk about stuff and she guided me to become a better instructor.

The basics that I learned from her are really the foundation of my teaching skills. And if she had not given me an opportunity, I might not be a full-time professor today.

Speaking of teaching ... I had a few really, really great professors over the years and I've stolen from their teaching styles: Ed Ross at Loyola, Michael Shapiro at Columbia, Pete Rock and Valerie Ross at Penn, Seth Bruggeman at Temple.

I never took a class with Tom Eveslage but he asked me a question when I was speaking to one of his classes at Temple and it changed my entire pedagogy: "What is the process you use to determine whether to do the story?" Process? I had never consciously had one. Now I have a process for everything, and I preach them all to my students.

I am the person I am largely because of these people. I try to emulate their best traits - when I deal with students, when I write stories or shoot photos, when I see people out and about.

Of course there are others: Mookie. The Daily News photo gang. The 8th & Poplar baseballers. My roommates from Loyola. Russ Campbell. My Uncle Noriyuki (yeah, he's family but I don't see him that often, and there is no one else in the world whose principles I respect more).

For these folks, as well as Wendy and the rest of my family, I would do anything. I owe them so much.

Start-up Journal: Jill Scott is Too Glamorous for Hipsters?

2011-12-04T23:12:00.014-05:00

Just realized that I had not posted the winter 2011/2012 issue of JUMP featuring Jill Scott.

Lot's of stuff to talk about with this issue. The most interesting thing, to me, has been the reaction to the Jill Scott cover. The mag moved slowly in whiter, hipster areas - guessing the trendy white kids weren't drawn in by the glamorous looking Philly native in the shiny dress. I flipped the mag after a week or so at a few hipsier joints, fronting the artwork by Andy Molholt (below), and the mag flew from drop spots.That said, I dropped stacks of 50 mags at the FYE at Broad and Chestnut at least five times, each time fronting Jill Scott. On Friday, two days ago, I dropped off another stack at around 4:00 pm. By the time the store opened Sunday morning, there were only three copies left. I've also hit Reading Terminal Market three times with stacks of 50.

Not sure what to make of that. The mag clearly has appeal with certain people. I don't know how we capitalize on that - financially or with future distribution. My thought is that every issue should always have two covers (rather than selling the back as ad space). That way, we can front the side that is more likely to draw readers at different locations.

I can tell you that we will not cover any genre of music with greater emphasis. The goal is to show off the musical talents of the city and our folks are awesome in a variety of genres. We'll use a cover to draw them in but once inside the mag, they will find a world of awesome stuff (not just their genre).

We held three launch events - at Temple University, the Hard Rock Cafe and The Blockley. They were all great fun but I never want to host another event again. I know that events are good for marketing and promotion, and even possibly good for generating revenue, but I am not a promoter. I have no interest in doing that kind of stuff. It's nerve-racking and not worth the stress.

We appeared on XPN2 with John Vettese. We set the playlist for an hour-long broadcast, featuring music we've documented in the magazine. That was cool.

I despise lists in journalism (first of all, they aren't journalism - they are pure marketing; second, they are lazy). We will never run a top ten list or anything even close. We will not present awards of any sort. They are meaningless. That said, we are up for city publication of the year in the third annual Philebrity awards. It's a bullshit, meaningless award but I want to win. As a new publication, we need any validation (and recognition) we can get.

We have other cool stuff on the horizon. For instance, we started a partnership with Philly Beer Scene magazine in which we'll do a regular column about beer and music (the first story is in the newest issue of Philly Beer Scene).

That relationship was born out of a magazine collective we created with Philly Beer Scene, Grid, Origivation, Motivos and two.one.five (if they ever print again). Not sure how the collective will work together but we're thinking there are commonalities with advertising, printing, content-creation, distribution and other back-end services.

This is very exciting to me as I really enjoy the people in this collective. They are bright and innovative - recognizing that print isn't dying. It's big media that is in trouble. We have all created publications that are primarily print and loved by their respective audiences (JUMP may not be beloved yet but when people see the mag, they become instant fans). Innovation doesn't always mean digital. Innovation is recognizing niches that can be served and building business models that can be sustainable (and profitable).

Other interesting JUMP stuff: got a few more major advertisers and I have been talking with another music organization about running their publication as an insert in JUMP. Things are lining up nicely for 2012.

Start-up Journal: JUMP Year in Review.

2011-11-05T11:32:00.006-04:00

I'm the guy in the front row at concerts, usually with a big, stupid grin and bouncing up and down. I love to see talented people performing. I think it's part jealousy - I wish I was up on stage, and part admiration.

One of the greatest things about running this magazine is that it is an excuse to go out, have fun and listen to live music. Not that I needed an excuse but my life is pretty jammed and it can be exhausting. Given the option, I will fall asleep on the couch. But now that I have to attend concerts, I throw down some espresso and hit the town. It's pretty awesome.

Speaking of awesome, I have to say that our latest issue (issue #4), which officially hits the streets on 11/11/11 (though I pick them up from the printer on Monday), is probably the most awesome pop culture, truly Philadelphia magazine in many years. It looks good, it reads well and it covers so much diverse information that it is almost overwhelming.

In this issue, we have Jill Scott, but the story doesn't hinge on her music. Rather, we talk about her dedication to Philly via her foundation. She provides scholarships and training to young people from her neighborhood who otherwise might not have the means nor ambition to do positive things in their lives. She gives them hope.

We have stories about the Philadelphia Gay Men's Chorus, an opera-singing pizza maker, artists who make music posters, hard rock bands, dubstep DJs, hoop dancing, politics, education and so much more.

After printing four issues, I've discovered a few things:

• This is a doable project. Even with my regular, full-time job (I'm teaching around 350 students this semester), I can do this magazine on the side. It eats my life but it is doable. For the month of October, while I was editing and doing layout, I worked on the magazine non-stop from Thursday evening until Sunday evening. I did not sleep. I did not party. I quit playing baseball (that sucked). I ignored my friends. But we got the mag done.
• If I had more time, I could sell more ads and make the mag financially sustainable very easily. There is interest in the product and loyalty from the readership. Our ads are cheap enough that businesses can afford to advertise.
• For this issue, we nearly covered our costs - though that includes a credit from the printer because they goofed up the printing in the previous issue. With winter break coming up soon, I will dedicate four weeks to getting advertisers. I'm feeling pretty good about it.
• Selling ads blows. I take every rejection personally, and there is a lot of rejection. I can't even tell you how many people have blown me off over the last ten months. There are so many more people on my permanent shit list than ever imaginable.

• There is a pattern to production. Story deadline passes and I have few story submissions. Then I freak out and think about shutting down the mag. A few weeks later, I have more than enough content to fill the mag, and I feel like king of the world. This has happened with every issue.
• This is my fault. I am an easy going guy so I don't yell at people when they miss deadlines. I coddle people too much. Now that we have a good core staff and a ton of people interested in contributing, the bullshit is over. You miss deadline and you will never, ever contribute to the mag. There is no reason I should have to stress about that.

• I love the magazine and everything in it. It is far more than just music. We use music as an excuse to talk about Philadelphia. When you read the mag, you experience the city, and you see way more than you would ever find in other regional publications. That's not a slam on them. It's a product of our lack of advertising, abundance of content and my determination to be diverse.

The mag will continue to exist and that's pretty amazing. People like the product - it's print and real, as opposed to the ephemeral nature of the Internet. Our costs are minimal, so the money situation is not out of reach.

Plus, I like attending shows. Being an adult can suck - the realities of work and bills and bullshit obligations can be a real downer. It would be very easy to sit around watching Netflix all day. Instead, I go out all the time (except during production months) and have fun, experiencing so much.

Here are some of my favorite things I've gotten to do because of the magazine:

• Interviewed Mayor Nutter.
• Hung out with Freeway.
• Saw a ton of bands at the Philly FM Fest.
• Spent 12 hours at The Roots Picnic.

I've spent so much time with bands and artists away from the stage, learning about them and their inspirations. I've had the pleasure of learning about talented people who are passionate enough to push onward despite the chances of making a bigtime career out of music being slim.

Running the magazine has been a real treat and I look forward to next year.

Start-up Journal: Where Do Hits Come From?

2011-09-17T10:27:00.007-04:00

I attended an event at WHYY the other day where they discussed their new operation, Newsworks. It's a collaborative effort that brings together around 20 different regional journalistic outlets under one umbrella.

Over the first year of operation, they say they've had many successes and failures. The one thing that stood out to me most was that only 13 percent of their audience found content on Newsworks by going through the home page. The rest of the hits came from people who were led to the site via facebook, twitter, search engines and other links.

I just went through our numbers from JUMP. Since the March launch, we have 34,586 total hits. Only 10,655 went through the home page. That means the actual website draws only about 31 percent of the audience. We've had 7,767 hits (22 percent of our total hits) through facebook. Our twitter hits are only at 973.

What are the ramifications of this?

• Well, it makes me realize that I probably don't need to worry about updating the website every day. Two-thirds of our audience aren't even seeing the home page.
• This makes me think that I should be taking advantage of all our online content, not just the newest stuff. I should post and re-post all the old stories all over the place (especially on facebook), as the website really is just a marketing tool for the print magazine.
• Twitter blows as an audience generator. It's fine for getting our name out there, so we'll continue with it. But twitter followers don't seem that interested in info beyond 140 characters.

• Most importantly, all of this makes me realize that the web is not a content-generator friendly medium. It is fantastic for users - they can find whatever info they want, whenever they want. But the content-producers are working in a void (and not making money online).

• This reaffirms my commitment to print. The Internet, I think, actually devalues content by nature of requiring so much of it. Print is permanent (or at least lasting) and therefore valuable.

Start-up Journal: The Mission of Journalists.

2011-09-16T17:10:00.009-04:00

When buyouts were announced by the company that owns the Philadelphia Inquirer and Daily News, a City Paper reporter contacted me for insight. This is what I told him:

This scares the shit out of me. Losing more journalists hurts the city. Really. As more and more reporters disappear, less and less gets covered. That means the bulk of journalists in the city wind up reacting to events like fires, murders and other tragedies.

That means the reputation of the city, which is very much influenced by the news media, will be as a place where people get killed on the streets constantly, our sports fans are disgusting people who barf on little kids and our politicians are all corrupt. Some of that is true but there is so much more in Philadelphia that 95 percent of the viewing/ listening/ reading audiences will never know about.

Fewer and fewer journalists have the time to go in depth into stories, or even be proactive about stuff. We don't have a lot of professional reporters roaming the streets, learning about folks in neighborhoods.

There are people here in Philadelphia doing amazing things, who never get any coverage because there aren't enough reporters with audiences finding those people.

The Internet has been great for developing grassroots info systems. But those operations reach small audiences, and they are usually under-funded. They can only do so much.

Our large, mainstream media rely upon celebrities, tragedies/ controversies and sports to draw audiences. And it's only going to get worse now.

He wrote back and asked about the future of the local media landscape. I said:

The two newspapers are at the bone now. They've been losing staff for a long time (I took the buyout from the DN in December 2005). Their ability to be anything near comprehensive has been compromised for more than a decade. Probably a lot longer.

Regional newspapers are in tough spots. They try to speak in a familiar voice to a wide range of people - from the Jersey shore to the western suburbs, in the Inquirer's case. But the Inquirer can't cover that much range in a satisfactory way.

So there is a disconnect between the audience and the journalists.

These days, people want information that directly impacts them.

The future of the local media landscape? Honestly, I think the Inquirer and DN will continue to drop in circulation and ad revenue. I think local TV will continue with coverage of reactionary stuff, with emphasis on sports, crime and weather (ugh). And audiences will continue to drift away.

They'll find info online, or in random publications. But they'll have to seek it on their own. And that means many people will never learn about important issues that could have a direct impact on their lives.

The William Penn/ Temple deal is tasked with helping journalists dig for that "important" journalism. I'm not involved with the process anymore but think about it - they first threw out their intentions with the program nearly two years ago. They could do great things with all that money but it could take a year before that operation is functional. Probably more.

He then asked whether the Daily News (where I worked for nearly 12 years; the image above was my last front page story for the paper, I think) was in better shape than the Inquirer. I said:

I think the DN covers a more specific region and has a more loyal readership (largely because of their sports coverage). I think that leaves the DN in better shape than the Inky.

When Amanda Bennett arrived at the Inquirer a while back, she said that she wanted to make the Inquirer the best regional newspaper in the country. She said she wanted the paper to back off national and international stories in favor of covering local stuff, developing news that people couldn't find anywhere else.

But the Inquirer was only a decade removed from their Pulitzer era, and conceding stuff to the wire services felt like defeat.

The future of journalism, for better or worse, is small and personal to the audience. There will always be a handful of national/ international operations - the NYTimes, Wash Post, etc. The Internet will continue to fragment audiences. And local newspapers, like the Inquirer, will need to figure out what their niche is in this demassified world.

This all connects to our magazine efforts, I think. We are building a financially sustainable journalistic product, one that informs as well as entertains. We are flashy enough to get attention but deep enough to be smart advocates for the city.

Even when we begin paying staff next year (fingers crossed), we won't be muckrakers. We don't have the time nor inclination to do that kind of work. Rather than document corporate or governmental malfeasance, we're doing a public service by highlighting local talent. We're trying to change the reputation of this great place: rather than make people think the city is a shithole where people are raped, killed and robbed constantly, we are showing that there is hope and talent in the city.

I'm not saying we are the future of journalism. But we are a part of it. Our mission is noble, our business is responsible and our product is solid.

Start-up Journal: Follow Your Passion.

2011-09-14T22:17:00.009-04:00

The latest issue of JUMP hit the streets last week and I think we have made a world of progress. The design is cleaner and more interesting, the stories are tighter and more random, and we have reader service stuff that makes the mag valuable.

In my publisher's note, I suggested everyone "start a fucking band." Since we started the magazine, I've had numerous people tell me they were in bands during high school or college. And now, they have crappy jobs. In an era when money is tight, jobs are scarce and Philadelphia has few jobs where people actually produce anything, the arts, I think, may be the only hope for the future of the city.

That sounds awful but it's meant to be a positive. We have an awesome and burgeoning music scene. Rather than be known as a place with high crime or political corruption or crappy schools or shitty sports fans, we should be known as a music town.

My young friend Kevin Brosky took issue with my suggestion that everyone start a band. He says that I make it sound so easy, when it's really not. Of course, he is right. But I can't help wonder whether he was troubled by my suggestion because he knows that he's working a job that isn't where his passion rests.

I hope I pissed off a lot of people in a similar fashion. I want people to recognize that as the country deepens into the financial shithole we're digging, we really should be retreating to what makes us most happy (for me, it's baseball, Mookie and music). Quit focusing on the miserable stuff you have to do to pay the bills. Focus your energy on your passions.

Anyway ... here are a few things I learned during the production of this issue:

• Selling ads during the summer is dreadful. When businesses are slow, the last thing anyone wants to talk about is spending money (even while they know that they want to be a part of the fall issue, as it will reach a large audience).
• I need to sell ads for multiple issues well before summer.
• Free labor is unreliable labor. We had a lot of stories fall through for this issue and many of them were for random reasons. We need to get to the point when people are paid for their work. I'm hoping to begin paying for content creation starting in 2012.

• When people look through the magazine, they are impressed. But we still have a branding issue. Some people still don't know what we are.
• We are getting there, though. Today I spoke to a club owner who, eight months ago, told me that he wouldn't advertise in print anymore. But today, he said he liked the mag (he didn't say he'd advertise but I think it's coming).
• I've spoken about the mag at various events and afterward, I'm flooded by people interested in the project. Clearly, we are tapping into something.

• I'm unbelievably proud of the product we've created. Our content in this issue ranges from stories about popular bands to urban bonfires, from black radio to Internet radio, from hip hop and jazz to choral music and chamber music.
• Our web hits have been going crazy. Even on days we don't post, we get 300 or 400 hits. That seems to be people reading the recent issue's content (most likely directed to us via facebook).
• The cover story about Patty Crash has received the most hits. Number two was a surprise: a story about the 150th anniversary of the University of Pennsylvania Glee Club.
• We wrote about Joe Hardcore in the summer issue. When his annual hardcore festival happened in August, the page hits skyrocketed (679 hits on that story on one day alone). It's the most viewed story on the website. I'm not sure how to capitalize on that.

There are days when I don't want to do the magazine anymore. The work is labor intensive. Editing stories eats my life. Doing design is fun but a challenge. Selling ads is awful. Distributing magazines takes forever. And I'm never sure how the magazine is being received.

But the rewards are awesome. Last night, for instance, I ran into a kid who said, "Oh, you're the JUMP guy?" Then he told me how much he loved the latest issue. I went to the opening of a new music venue the other day and people knew the mag, and they liked it. I've hand-delivered mags to advertisers and they are pleased.

What makes me most happy is that we are covering stuff that no one else does. We are educating the region on the awesomeness of the Philly music scene. And we are doing it without selling our souls (no sponsored stories, no concessions to advertisers, etc).

We are still short of our financial goals. For this issue, I put in around $1,500 of my own money into the project (plus countless hours). But I look at this as my contribution to the local arts scene. I have no musical talents. But I can organize a crew and put together a magazine.

I'm not starting a band (not now, at least). But I'll write about you if you do.

This is my passion, my distraction from the bullshit of the world.

Start-up Journal: A Big F-You to You Know Who.

2011-08-01T14:38:00.006-04:00

I spent all day yesterday roaming the streets of my neighborhood listening to some really awesome live music. It was so much fun and, frankly, invigorating. I needed yesterday.

The challenges of running this magazine are plentiful, and last week was a tough one. I had writers disappear on me and a few potential advertisers said, "No thank you." Financially, we're nowhere near where we should be and that is a little frightening.

The long-term business strategy for the magazine has us relying upon smaller local businesses to advertise in the magazine. The smaller outlets don't have budgets to advertise in legacy media places like the Inquirer or the local TV stations, so consumers instead run to the crappy national chains who do have ad budgets. The smaller businesses then continue to struggle, teetering on the brink of a downward spiral.

We hit the targeted audiences of the smaller operations so, in theory, their ad dollars are well-placed with us. By advertising in JUMP, they get much needed promotion, we get to publish our magazine and Philly gets a world of information about the awesomeness of Philly music.

The problem is that the smaller businesses are running tight ships these days because of the crappy economy. They don't have the cash to spare.

So, in the short-run, I've been trying to hit up some of the larger businesses in the region. It's tough even finding the right people to hit up at those places. My emails have gone unanswered. My phone calls are not returned.

JUMP is not a lifestyle magazine, so I have no problems with not running a lot of ads. I don't want people to shell out money for crap they don't need. That's not our goal.

We are a community-building project.

The goal is for the spiral to go upward: we write about bands and places, the bands and places succeed, the city gets a better reputation, people stay in the city and support the scene, the schools get better, political corruption ends, my garden bursts with ripened tomatoes and everyone is happy.

That's only a slight exaggeration.

One friend continuously tells me that print is pointless in the modern world. To me, that's short-sighted. In the future (as well as now), all the platforms will co-exist. The Internet is great but it's strengths are immediacy and interaction with the audience. There is a lack of depth to the majority of what goes online, no storytelling and no context (of course, context exists online but the public must find that themselves). And few places online are seen as credible.

By saying that the future is online only, it sounds, to me, like you assume everyone is stupid with a short attention span. If they aren't stupid already, the lack of information provided to them will ensure they are stupid in the future.

Print has a purpose: it's attractive and in-depth, as well as long lasting. It will continue to exist despite the constant scare from big media who could save a ton of money by cutting printing costs (even though all newspapers and magazines generate the bulk of their revenue through print ad sales).

I never, ever wanted to sell anything to anyone so I am the worst ad salesman you could ever possibly imagine. Running an ad-free magazine would be so awesome, I think, a big, rigid middle finger in the face of the corporate world. But we really need the cash.

The last time I posted about the financial end of the business, a local promoter told me he'd run an ad in the mag. He never advertises anywhere but he said he liked what we represented. We talked a few times and then he disappeared. Despite repeated emails, texts and phone calls, I never heard from him again.

And this is a guy I'm pretty friendly with. Even he won't return my messages. That's how awful selling ads really is.

I applied for a Knight Arts Journalism grant. So keep your fingers crossed. The $20,000 grant would fund the magazine for 2012.

For now, I'll continue to do this on my own dime and my own time as long as there is interest in the project. I can think of no better way to say fuck you to all the naysayers than to do it without them.

The fall issue hits the streets on September 2nd.

Start-up Journal: Of Inspiration and Frugality.

2011-07-08T00:27:00.004-04:00

As a professor of journalism, it's hard to quantify success.

The work of one day - a lecture or homework assignment or in-class exercise - is but a drop in the bucket of a student's life. What I lecture about, I know, often goes unheard or misunderstood or worse: ignored. Some students, of course, eat up every word. The reality is that I rarely know who absorbs what (or doesn't).

When I worked for the newspaper, there was an immediate sense of gratification after working hard on a story: the next day or so, it was in print for thousands of people to see.

In a philosophical way, I could question the purpose of what I was doing at the newspaper and at a base level, I could question whether people read and were influenced by my work. But you could not debate the fact that a product was created and it existed in the public realm.

I thought of this as I read Shop Class As Soulcraft by Matthew Crawford. Crawford earned a doctorate and landed a high paying job in a think tank but eschewed it all (sort of) for a life as a motorcycle mechanic. And he couldn't be happier (or so it seems).

His book is a call for people to get their hands dirty. We tend to get caught up in abstract, man-made concepts designed by corporations to keep people in line. Office workers stress over stuff that has little impact upon anything. We've created a consumer culture that creates jobs to keep the consumer culture spinning.

Crawford preaches independence in the forms of manual labor and frugality. He even cites Benjamin Franklin, the king of the penny-pinchers. And Crawford urges people to learn by doing.

That's why I love journalism. I get to learn while doing. And then I get to tell people about it. Go to the concert? Yup. Hang with the band? That's my job. Sit down with people and talk about arts and culture in Philadelphia, and how we can make this city a better place? Yeah ... life is good.

Being a journalist is being an educator. As a modern journalist and an entrepreneur, I have to also think about the business end of things. I refuse, however, to let the magazine simply turn into a marketing tool. And we are not party-planners. We are an altruistic journalistic operation with modest financial goals and astronomical goals for benefiting society.

We aren't repairing motorcycle engines but we create a product that informs and entertains people. You can hold our product in your hands, savor it and own it.

I had a long, difficult school year. I got bogged down in ugly office politics and got caught up in other bullshit. This school year, I also dealt with an amazing amount of apathy from students. All of that has made me wonder whether teaching is the right job for me.

Now, all I want to do is run the magazine. Maybe one of these days ...

Two Grandfathers (One Me).

2011-06-20T01:14:00.006-04:00

I never knew my mother's father (above, 2nd from the right). He passed away before I was born. And most of the stories I grew up hearing about him turned out to be false.

But he did lose an eye while fighting for Japan during World War II. He was stationed in the Philippines, ironically where my father's father (below) was fighting ... for America. They might have been shooting at each other.
I came real close to not existing.

Then again, because of World War II, the United States put American military bases all over Japan. My parents met because my father served in the Navy in my mother's hometown.

No matter how you look at it, I'm lucky I'm here.

Start-up Journal: Getting to Know Me.

2011-06-07T15:07:00.004-04:00

A bunch of JUMP staffers spent more than ten hours at The Roots Picnic on Saturday and it was pretty amazing. We networked with a bunch of folks and we gave away more than 1,100 copies of the new summer issue. Some people actually sat right next to us and read through the magazine, scouring almost every story. It was cool to watch.

Many people asked us if we included the line-up of acts for the actual event (which we did not). A few people asked about getting coverage for their bands. The mother of one of our cover musicians snagged about 6 magazines. Then she came back later and grabbed a whole stack.

We've only dropped about 4,000 copies so far. By the end of the week we'll have around 7,500 in circulation. The full run will be out by mid-week next week.

The feedback for the issue has been fantastic. It looks sharp and bright. The stories are strong. Since the issue went live on Friday, we've been averaging around 450 hits per day. That isn't bad for an unknown website that is still building a web audience for a print publication.

Here are a few things that I'm working through:

• People keep telling me we need a better web presence. My goal is to create a print publication and frankly, I don't have time to work on a website. But there is obviously a market for information if we post more stuff online.

• I wanted to create a product that was deep, especially in comparison to blogs. We can write long and run large images. In the first issue, I avoided shorter stories. We have several shorter pieces in the summer issue and the mix seems to be popular. I'm thinking we need more short stories?

• That makes me think that we should be a fairly traditional magazine format - short pieces up front, features in the middle and long-form stuff at the back of the book.

• That confirms my notion that young people want a print Philadelphia magazine that is geared toward them. They were under-served.

• That makes me wonder if we should diversify our content even more - rather than focus on music, should we really be a youth culture magazine (rather than a magazine that uses music as a hook for all the content)? Should we write about movies? Fashion?

The mag will continue to evolve. For the fall issue, we will have a complete re-design: new logo, new fonts, cleaner layout, etc. The issue will coincide with several music festivals so we are planning to do some contextual/ historical pieces. We want to show off Philly's musical heritage.

I have a shed full of magazines to distribute, and that is daunting. But I'm feeling really good about the product (I've already re-stocked several places that ran out of mags).

(Thanks to Sarah Hull for the photo).

Start-up Journal: The Greatest Feeling in The World.

2011-05-29T19:41:00.006-04:00

Here's a sneak peak at the summer issue of JUMP magazine. It officially hits the streets on Friday and I couldn't be more proud. The stories are solid, the images are strong, the amount of interesting content overall is impressive and the presentation, I think, looks way better than issue one.

First of all, I used smaller fonts in this issue, which allowed me to be more creative with design. We were able to run more stories and with larger images. The only people who will likely complain will be my grandparents. Everyone else, I presume, will have no problems reading the type.

I'm pretty excited about the content. The theme of issue two is "The Hook-up." It's all about connections, romantic or otherwise. Surprisingly, nearly everyone followed that theme, creating a package that is consistent and unusual. We learned how all of these bands and places and people came together. It's pretty fascinating.

I'm still reconciling my vision of the magazine with some folks. To me, music is the excuse to talk about all these people doing amazing things. The magazine is more than music. It is a youth culture guide. With that in mind, we cover food, politics, education and lots of other stuff.

I love the blend. I interviewed the mayor about his DJ days. We have a story about a 24-year old guy who is using classical music to transform a Southwest Philly neighborhood. And we have a food story about a West Philly restaurant that is trying to foster the jazz community.

In this issue, we have stories about rappers, neo-New Wave artists, indie rockers, pop musicians, a folk venue, a century-old piano shop and everything in between. It's wildly diverse and I absolutely LOVE that.

Some folks, I think, are really interested in only being about the music. I would argue that Rolling Stone, SPIN and most other mags do really cool pop culture stuff that is connected to music. Why can't we?

Now, the business stuff:

- I sold nine ads to a variety of local businesses. Nearly all of them signed on for multiple issues and they paid up front. Their early payments - around $4,0000 - cover my ass in the short run (it costs $5,500 to print the mags, so I'm still in the hole). We'll owe them space in future issues but they build a base from which we can grow. Their paid ads signify to other potential advertisers that people believe we are product with value.

My goal for the issue was to sell 10 ads or reach half the printing costs ($2,750). I'm pretty satisfied with where we are at this point. I think it will be easier to sell ads in the fall - I assume that businesses realize that the summer will be slow, regardless of advertising.

- I had coffee or drinks with countless people after issue one came out. Some of those meetings resulted in stories, and a few resulted in advertising. More than anything else, however, I thought every meeting had value because they gave me greater perspective.

- Numerous people have told me I need to be less honest with these blog posts. Showing any sort of weakness could hurt the business, they say. But I really want everyone to understand what is happening with the magazine: we are an altruistic operation whose only goals are to be sustainable and make everyone realize that Philly has great stuff going on.

- Everyone I spoke to saw the business as being easily sustainable, and they liked the overall product. One guy told me that we are reaching an audience many people would kill to reach. He told me not to under-value the product.

- I tend to under-value my time, and I messed up pretty good again with this issue. For instance, over the last 72 hours before we went to print, I probably slept about ten total hours. I pulled an all-nighter the night before going to press. I can't even begin to count up all the hours I put into this product.

I should probably begin to delegate tasks but I hate to ask people to work for free. Plus, I want to establish what we are before allowing others to have greater control of the overall. We'll get there.

- With this issue, I found two young writers I am really, really pleased with. I intend to groom them for leadership in the magazine.

I pick up the mags on Thursday and Friday. We'll begin drops on Thursday. I'd like about 2,000 on the street by Friday night (which is the start of Beer Week). We have a table at The Roots Picnic on Saturday and we'll deliver another 1,000 copies then. On Sunday, we'll give out mags at the MAD Dragon Showcase at the TLA.

By the end of the first full week in June, I'm hoping to have around 8,000 copies in circulation.

Look at the virtual mag above. I think it looks really good. Seeing what we created gives me the greatest feeling in the world.

Start-up Journal: Going Broke But Feeling Good.

2011-04-28T21:11:00.006-04:00

We are at an important juncture for JUMP right now - story deadline for the next issue is today. Next week, I'll begin editing and designing pages.

This is also an important juncture because the ad deadline is less than two-weeks away. By then, I'll know exactly how much of my personal money will go into this issue. It isn't looking good.

I am a horrible ad salesman. I hate asking anyone for money. I find it humiliating. So I avoid doing it. The magazine (and my pockets) will suffer because of this.

I've been trying to explain to people that we are a community-builder, not a greedy organization. The ad dollars go directly to printing the publication. But we're talking about an industry that is already short on cash. While they can advertise for $50 in the mag, $50 is a lot to them. And me.

Here are a few other lessons I've learned since we completed the first issue:

• You have to constantly promote the magazine. Every day, I'm on the phone, at shows or in meetings with people to talk about our project. It is exhausting.
• You have to be online constantly. I post material every day. I tweet and facebook the hell out of everything. And that gets exhausting.
• Everyone seems to like the magazine. I get emails constantly. And the mag has pretty much disappeared from all our drop spots (we began distribution on March 11 and all 10,000 copies were swept up pretty quickly).
• Everyone wants to be in the magazine. Bands hit me up constantly. Writers and photographers keep hitting me up. That gives me hope that we are doing something right.

Here are a few things I've learned about myself:

• I don't want to be online all the time. This project has kind of made me hate the Internet.
• I am a horrible negotiator. I don't want to play games. I know that you will start low and expect me to haggle but I'm not playing that game. Let's just treat each other with respect, OK?
• I can live on five hours of sleep per night.
• I like being the boss. My full-time job in academia is full of office politics. I used to be able to avoid it. This year, I got caught up in the bullshit. I'm retreating from that stuff. And I'm going to create a comfortable culture in the magazine where the staffers are valued and respected.
• I don't want to be an event promoter.
• I just want to create a magazine.
• I don't want to rely upon hype to make the magazine successful. I'm not going to fall back on the ridiculous practices of contemporary journalism.
• My principles will be the end of me. And the magazine.

My goal for issue two was to raise half the $5,500 printing cost through advertising. I think I have five or six definite advertisers and maybe another three or four more in the wings. Next week, I'll canvas town trying to raise more money. Right now, I'm in the hole big time.

Regardless, the next issue will be available on June 3.

Start-up Journal: So Unbelievably Tired of Talking About Money.

2011-04-11T08:35:00.006-04:00

I RECENTLY QUIT an unpaid position working with a wealthy foundation. They are launching a journalism organization with $2.4 million. They are spending $100,000 just to hire a search firm to find the leader for the yet-to-be-formed organization.

When I protested the $100,000 cost of the search firm, I was told, "That's how things operate in business."

That statement alone was obnoxious. The condescending tone it was delivered in made it all the worse.

A business that spends that extravagantly these days is doomed to fail. It is not sustainable (especially when nearly $600,000 of the annual $800,000 budget is allocated to paying the top four people, all of whom produce nothing).

Money. It seems all I do these days is talk to people about money. And that sickens me.

Shouldn't we be doing what is right rather than what makes business sense (i.e. raking in profits)?

Our new magazine is operating on the altruistic notion of supporting the local music scene. We are not out to get rich.

We want to be sustainable - we need $5,500 quarterly to pay for printing costs. Ideally, I'd like to pay the staff for their work, which would add about another $2,500 per issue.

Our ad rates are intentionally cheap. We want everyone to be able to advertise with us. We get their money so we can continue producing content. They get promotion so their business can grow. It's a win-win.

I've already had loose conversations with people who were interested in getting specific coverage in the magazine, for which they were willing to pay. I turned them down. As an independent magazine, our credibility lies in in our editorial independence. We can't be perceived as having sold a positive story (or any story, really). That would ruin our reputation, turning us into public relations hacks.

The federal budget is suffering from partisan bullshit. The state budget is in shambles. Education funding in Pennsylvania is being slashed (like we need more poorly educated kids in Philly). And my job as a professor at a state-related university is tenuous.

I'm holding on to my principles. I'll likely lose a ton of money this year but we'll create a product that we can be proud of, I think. Maybe we can even build a new business model - financially smart, community-friendly, enjoyable all-around.

The world needs a new business model. Because the dire financial straits we're in today are rooted in the ridiculous business practices of the past.

Start-up Journal: If it Costs Money, Will People Just Go Away?

2011-03-21T08:58:00.008-04:00

WHEN WE CAME up with the idea for JUMP, I decided that we should be free. I wanted to follow the models of Grid and Philly Beer Scene. They reach their very specific communities and serve them well with free magazines.

I think we can do the same.

Last week, the New York Times announced a paywall strategy. This follows similar experiments here in Philadelphia and elsewhere around the country.

I have real fears that if information comes at a price, people will decline. They'll lean on the free services, like cable news or random online places. That is frightening.

Broadcast news is so desperate for viewers that they air almost anything salacious, and rarely do they provide more than superficial coverage of stories.

The online world is fantastic for breaking stories but it is also a hotbed of inaccuracy - last week, word spread that CNN was sending 400 reporters and crew to cover the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. While the false information (it's really 50 staffers) originated in the Wall Street Journal, it was quickly disseminated by dozens, if not hundreds of bloggers.

We have been slowly turning people into idiots with quick hits, salacious stories, superficial coverage and false information.

And now that reported news is going to cost money, I fear more people will click on to the free sites like Gawker or Perez Hilton than actual news sites.

JUMP is intended to be a magazine that goes deeper and gives people the story behind the band (or whatever). Do we provide quality information that people would pay for? That's not the point. We want everyone to have the best information, not just those who can pay.

I just hope there are enough people left out there who haven't been dumbed-down by the media.

Start-up Journal: You Need a Distribution Plan.

2011-03-19T21:10:00.007-04:00

I WENT TO THE printer n New Jersey to pick up 10,000 copies of a 48-page magazine on 60 pound stock paper. And when the dude above tried to set the palette on the bed of my step-father's flat bed truck, it nearly blew the shocks on the Chevy S10.

I had to make two trips with around 5,000 copies of JUMP each time. Even then, the truck was dragging and I thought it might blow out the tires.

Then, I had to figure out where to put the 10,000 magazines. My plan was to distribute around 5,000 copies during week one. Then, a month later, we would deliver the rest after seeing what distribution points were most effective.

But holy cow! Those 10,000 magazines take up a lot of room! I put around 7,000 in my shed (leaving us barely able to take out our bikes) and another 2,000 at my school office. I delivered 1,000 immediately.

One week later, the shed is much more manageable. We've delivered around 7,500 magazine in eight days.

What did I learn in this process?

• We need a place to store stuff. And we need a way to transport the mags. If might even be wise to rent a truck for two days. That way, we have temporary storage until we can canvas the city with mags.

• I had ideas of hand delivering mags to people, and then begin conversations about advertising in future issues. But I've been hustling just to get rid of mags that I have only spoken to a handful of decision-makers at businesses. I just don't have the time.

• I've delivered around 4,000 copies on my own, if not more. That is just plain stupid. I need to teach people how to distribute and then trust them to do it.

• We've dropped small amounts (10 to 30 copies) of mags at tons of places. The thinking is that since people don't know what we are, it's better to have wide distribution - really saturate the city so that people can't avoid us.

• We also dumped larger numbers at mags at strategic points - World Cafe Live, university settings, a few record shops and venues. Basically, where there are large numbers of people or people specifically interested in music, we left a bunch of mags.

• I've delivered mags to prominent producers, journalists, artists and other relevant folks. I've also handed mags to random individual people. I heard a kid rapping on the corner of 6th and Jefferson the other day while he was waiting to cross the street. I asked him if he liked music. Then I handed him a mag.

When was the last time you ran into a magazine publisher? I bet you remember it. Even if these folks don't care, or even if they recognize the fact that I'm just some jackass dude, I guarantee they'll remember the experience.

I never leave the house without twenty or more mags.

• I've followed up at locations where I've dropped mags. I get excited when I see the stacks gone. I get bummed when I see a big pile still there. Fortunately, at most places I've gone, the piles are much smaller. I've even restocked a few places.

Every once and a while, I see people outside reading the mag as they wait for a table at Honey's. That's an amazing feeling.

I understand why people like the Internet - you can instantly see what people are reading and appreciating. With print, it's really hard to tell. But I've walked into places and people have told me they have already seen the mag, or they've heard about it. I've received a lot of emails and the website is getting a few hundred hits per day.

There is a buzz about the mag. That's cool. But it will take a while before we have the word-of-mouth and recognition of the existing publications.

So far, I think we are achieving our goals. We will grow from here.

JUMP Hits the Streets Today!

2011-03-11T09:39:00.000-05:00

CHECK THE WEBSITE to find where you can pick up physical copies. Or email me.

Start-up Journal: Being the Boss Isn't Fun.

2011-03-06T21:21:00.014-05:00

ON THE EVE of wrapping up issue one of JUMP, I stumbled across the magazine above. The cover story is, "Why I still love print media."

The magazine was in the trash. Actually, it was a whole stack of them. Fairly ominous.

I worked on the mag until 3 am with Chris Malo. After I drove him home, I stayed up until 6 am finishing the details. When I went to bed, the sun was coming up. A few hours later, I took the mag to the printer.

I think it looks good. And overall, I'm fairly proud of the work represented. A lot of people worked very hard. This is a pretty good start.

Today, I want to focus on the editorial side of things because I learned a great deal through this process.

• I was in my office at school, talking to a pair of students when we formally hatched the magazine idea. Neither of those two students got involved in the final product. During the mag build-up, I tried to find a small team of folks who would help with decision-making. The small team I assembled did not get involved to a great extent. A few of them actually disappeared along the way (one owing me two stories, including one potential cover story).

That makes me realize that people need to feel ownership in the project in order to be fully committed. When we aren't paying people, however, that commitment (and ownership) is difficult to come by.

• I tried to create an environment of inclusion. Our meetings were pure democracies - everyone's opinions were invited. I thought that worked out well. The stories that we have in the mag represent that to some extent - we profiled a few bands and did a few stories that I would not have chosen. The open discussions, I think, gave the mag greater diversity.

Some people did not like the open atmosphere of the group (meetings with 20 to 30 folks) and declined to participate. They wanted more control.

I'm not sure whether it is better to have the big open group or a small crew of really devoted folks. Perhaps when I land on a crew of truly devoted people, I'll be better able to make that decision.

• I personally edited every story in the magazine. Some of the stories were written by non-journalists and many were prepared by journalism students. I edited every story to professional standards and that meant kicking stories back to people for re-writes. With some people, I went back and forth many times, to the point that they were very unhappy with me.

I had to re-write a few stories in the mag. I held a few stories until issue two because I thought they could benefit from additional reporting.

(Some of the stories we held for issue two were actually quite good but we ran out of room in the mag. The final decision to hold them came down to a lack of sufficient art.)

I made everyone aware of the changes I made in their stories. A few folks freaked out. But in the end, I think the overall product is much stronger.

No one has ever told me that I am a good leader - I almost refuse to discipline anyone. Punishment, I feel, does not work - it only makes people resentful. You need to make people care. I tried to make people care. But at some point, I'll have to play that strong leader role.

• Since the magazine was a side job, I wound up editing and doing layout during the evenings and on weekends. I got no sleep. I did almost all of the layout myself as I wasn't able to schedule time to get others involved.

Frankly, I'm not sure how to delegate work to folks (especially since the layout needs to be uniform throughout the mag) and I'm not sure I want to. It's their stories and images but it's my money and reputation at stake. I am the one who lives in this city and will continue to do so (while others take off after college or run to Jersey once they have kids).

The consistent thing that will keep this mag going is me.

For this issue, I estimate that I put in 160 to 180 hours of work, from January 1 to March 4. I earned $350 by running a story related to the magazine in the Philadelphia Daily News. We sold two full-page ads for a total of $1,500.

Printing 10,000 copies of the magazine cost at least $5,400 (the mag is at the printer now, so I'll know the exact cost this week).

That puts me in the hole $3,900 (or $3,550 if you factor in the Daily News money).

I'm hoping that once we have a product to show people, we'll be able to generate ad dollars. Our distribution plan involves me walking into businesses and handing them mags, as well as talking to them about advertising.

Other lessons learned?

• Stand firm on deadlines. And when deadlines are missed, move on.

The last three pages of this issue were not filled until less than 12 hours before the mag went to the printer. That is beyond unacceptable. Those folks should be charged with attempted murder as I almost had a heart attack waiting for their copy (it arrived more than two weeks late despite daily promises that it would be done that day).

• Relax. It will all come together.

I barely slept for two months and that wasn't healthy. I barely spent time with my girlfriend and poor Mookie has been ignored. I need to allocate my time better, and not worry about this so much. I don't need to be a martyr.

• Ignore the politics.

I created a magazine using my own money and a lot of my own time. I got a world of positive feedback from folks. I also got a lot of snide remarks from folks. F*** 'em.

This mag is awesome. People will love it. It will be financially self-sustaining. It is not a model for journalism in general but I think it will be a business and editorial model for community and niche media.

It wasn't easy by any means. But when I look at the finished product, I am humbled. I can't believe we made this.

Google Paparazzi!

2011-02-13T23:02:00.002-05:00

IF YOU DO a Google street view map for 2nd and Brown in Philly, you'll find me and the Mook walking along Brown. Cool.

Bob Marley: "We'll Free the People With Music."

2011-02-09T07:56:00.004-05:00

I WAS RECENTLY diagnosed as having hypothyroidism and prescribed hormone pills, so that may be why this video brought tears to my eyes.

But I don't think that's the reason. This is some subtly beautiful stuff. It speaks, I think, to the power and universality of music.

The video was created and released in 2010 by Playing for Change on what would have been Bob Marley's 65th birthday. It's amassed more than 7 million views.

The video released in 2011 for Marley's 66th birthday, two days ago, has already been viewed more than 300,000 times.

Start-up Journal: Celebrating Philadelphia.

2011-01-24T08:08:00.005-05:00

IN THE OLD DAYS, journalistic outlets championed for their cities and regions, helping the areas grow and prosper.

The New York Times reports that the founding owners of the Los Angeles Times "used their fledgling publication to push for the development that helped give rise to modern Los Angeles. Water was first piped into the San Fernando Valley because they arranged for it. Los Angeles Harbor was built in part because of their backing."

I don't see journalists championing for cities or regions much these days. Most, especially in Philadelphia, pander to their audiences by feeding them a steady stream of bland information about sports, spot news, weather and gossip.

JUMP will champion the city. We'll focus on the awesome people doing awesome stuff, here in Philadelphia.

As nearly all large-scale manufacturing operations have left the city, leaving our brains as the most important product we create, it's vital that we celebrate our creative community.

JUMP will do that. And hopefully we'll all benefit.

Start-up Journal: Free Ads? Branded Content?

2011-01-21T13:33:00.004-05:00

I'VE HAD DISCUSSIONS with several people who have suggested giving away free advertisements in the inaugural issue of JUMP, which will be released in March.

It is a common practice for new publications. There are numerous reasons for giving away ad space - developing relationships with potential advertisers, creating a perception of legitimacy in the eyes of the audience, etc.

Personally, I am against giving away ad space. With all that extra room in the magazine, we can be the magazine we would want to be, not the magazine we have to be because of finances. This is our chance to show the world how awesome we can be.

I'm not sure if that is smart. Thoughts?

Also, I don't want to give away ads when a handful of folks will pay for ads. Just doesn't seem fair.

A few people have suggested that we do branded content. They have suggested we work with potential advertisers to develop story ideas around their businesses. The stories and photos would be presented as regular content. But it would essentially be sponsored.

I'm against that as well.

That all may make me sound naive in business terms. But I try to see things from the readers' perspective. What do they want?

If we can figure that out, we'll gain a following. If we gain a following, advertisers will want to reach them. And we'll throw concerts and other benefits to raise cash to continue the magazine. Plus, we aren't looking for tons of cash.

I'm open to all ideas. Hit me.

(Why the picture of celebrating baseball players from 8th & Poplar? I miss me some baseball. Damn.)

Start-up Journal: Defining Success?

2011-01-19T12:55:00.010-05:00

WE WILL NOT even come close to breaking even financially on the first issue of JUMP. If I am lucky, we'll sell maybe $1,000 worth of advertising. And our costs will be in the ballpark of $5,500 for the one issue, not including time, concert tickets and basic travel stuff like driving around the city to drop off issues.

We may earn more money through advertising for the second issue. For the third issue, we have a tentative arrangement with City Paper to sell ads because the issue will revolve around the Philly Film and Music Festival, of which CP is a sponsor.

Regardless, I personally am going to be eating a lot of money this year. Some people might automatically consider that a failure. But forget the money for now. I am committed to four issues this year. We'll re-evaluate afterward.

What criteria should we use to decide whether to continue after the first four issues?

First and foremost, I believe, the product has to be good. If the writers, photographers and other volunteers don't have their hearts in the project, it is a failure. If we create a product that is not special, why continue?

Second, there must be interest in the mag. On March 11, 2011, we'll begin dropping the mag at locations throughout the city. We'll deliver half of the 10,000 copies during that first week. One month later, we'll return to those spots. If the mags are gone, we'll leave more. If the original mags are still there, we probably distributed poorly.

If a lot of mags remain at a lot of distribution points, we've created something people have no interest in.

Finally, I want to hear from people directly. I want people to email us and say they love the mag. I want them submitting ideas, photos, art, whatever. I want people commenting online. And I want them clamoring to get involved.

I've already had random people submit a ton of photos. I've had emails from high school students, bands, labels and journalists inquiring about the project and offering to help.

There is interest in the magazine, and that has me unbelievably optimistic. It's been a long time since Philadelphia had a high-quality, local-music-only magazine, and the city has never had it's own glossy publication devoted to pumping up the local music scene.

So, let me tell you why I believe we will succeed:

1. Few places I've ever been have as much civic pride as this city does. If you are not from here and you say something bad about Philly, you will get a beat down (if you are from Philly, saying bad things is your birthright). Philly will support Philly, and the mag is a total community-builder and civic-booster.

2. We will run large, engaging images - on shiny paper - that you can rip out of the mag and tape to your wall. Our stories will be deep, and the variety of stories will be unmatched by any publication in the city.

3. The music scene in Philly is insane. There is so much amazing stuff happening. I went to the recent Diplo Mad Decent party and there had to be 150 people in line to get in, and another 200+ people inside. It was wall-to-wall packed. And it was a Monday. In January.

In November, I went to a Philadelphia Orchestra concert with Yannick Nezet-Seguin, the future musical director and conductor, leading the symphony. Afterward, Nezet-Seguin sat down with fans. There had to be more than 100 people waiting in line to shake his hand and snap pictures with him. It was especially amazing when you consider the Orchestra crowd usually splits for the Main Line before the conductor has taken his final bows.

People here love their music. There is interest in learning more about the musicians, the scene, the city, everything, I think.

4. Finally, we will succeed because we are modest with our goals. We aren't trying to get rich. The idea is to get to a financial comfort level - where everyone gets paid for their work.

Other than that, we want to help the musicians get notoriety. We want to encourage people to come to the city to listen to music. We want our talent to stay in Philly and get lots of love. And we want people supporting Philly businesses that support the Philly music scene.

As always, your thoughts are welcomed and appreciated.

Start-up Journal: Creating the Business and Launching a Magazine.

2011-01-07T12:58:00.009-05:00

FOR THE PAST SIX nights, I have experienced the awesome and eclectic sounds of Philly. Last night, I sat in David Gaines Dining Room Recording Studio (above) as he and a group of friends sang, played music and discussed the music scene in town. It was pretty amazing.

This is part of my 31 days of Philly music, the story that I am doing for the new JUMP magazine, the all-local Philly music mag I am launching with the HUGE help of volunteer writers, photographers, editors, artists and other supporters.

As we go through the launch process, I'll detail how we did it so that others can learn from our trials and errors.

I decided to create the magazine in November after talking with a few students about a London mag project I did with students last summer. They loved the London mag but didn't feel connected to it. "If there was something like this for Philly, that'd be awesome," one student remarked.

The same day, Jesse Pearson, the former editor of Vice magazine, told one of my classes that a magazine should represent the editor's way of thinking. "The mag needs to be about my curiosity," he said.

That night I started a facebook group. I invited a bunch of friends and students to talk about the idea and what a mag would look like. By the end of the month, we had our first meeting. One week later, we discussed story ideas.

Over Thanksgiving break, I created a media kit. In December, I started a website, filed for a federal employee identification number, registered as a business and opened a bank account. Mookieland Inc. now exists and will launch JUMP: The Philly Music Project magazine in March.

Total costs to date: $1,425 paid to an accountant ($600 to incorporate the business, $300 for Philadelphia business license and $525 for the accountant's fees) and $25 for a domain name and hosting.

We have nearly 30 assignments in progress right now with stories due on January 28.

In February, I'll edit (with the help of volunteer copy editors) and we'll begin laying out the magazine. It should go to print on March 4, and be on the streets by March 11. Most of the city's college students return from spring break that weekend, so we'll do our major magazine launch party the following week (sometime between March 16 and 19).

It will cost around $5,500 to print 10,000 copies of a 48-page, full-color, glossy magazine. We have no advertising plan right now, so that money is coming out of my shallow pockets.

After the mag launches, we'll do a massive outreach to potential advertisers. Our next issue will be out in June and hopefully, the content/ ad ratio will be closer to 70/30, content to ads.

That is the plan for now.

My concerns? They are plenty: the stories won't come in on time; they won't be good; the images won't be strong and engaging; we'll miss genres; the mag will be too eclectic; we will be perceived as naive; advertisers won't be interested; I will lose $7,000 that I will never get back.

I could go on for days.

For now, however, I am having a great time. The process is exciting. And my 31 days of music story has me exploring every day, meeting amazing people and seeing places I've never experienced. Speaking with all these folks reminds me of why I love journalism.

Any thoughts or suggestions are welcome.

The United States of Skewed Values.

2010-12-15T13:12:00.005-05:00

I'M SUPER PUMPED to have Cliff Lee on the Phils again. I wish the season began tomorrow.

Cliff will be a hero in Philly as he rejected an offer from elsewhere for more money - he could have earned a reported $28 million more from the Yankees. But he's still guaranteed $120 million over five years in Philly. That's more than I will see in my lifetime (unless I live to be 2,034-years old).

I bitched on facebook that Jayson Werth will earn my annual salary every 29 hours. Someone responded by saying, "If someone offered you $126 million, you'd be a liar if you said you'd turn it down."

I would turn it down. Or, rather, I would take the salary and donate $125 million of it to various places - educational institutions, mostly.

I just don't need that much money. Who does? Even if you buy the most expensive crap in the world and travel to the farthest places and eat the most expensive stuff, won't the Cliff Lee's of the world still have a shit-ton of money leftover?

I'm concerned by how much of a priority we put on money. Your high salary doesn't make you a better person. The big bucks don't prove your worth.

Can Philly Support a Local Music Mag?

2010-11-13T11:20:00.009-05:00

A BUNCH OF people have gotten together with the dream of launching a quarterly magazine that focuses solely on the music scene in the Greater Philadelphia region.

No such product exists. So, rather than our local talent becoming huge in Philly, they run off to Brooklyn or London to feel appreciated.

It's time to end that.

The media kit above outlines our plans. We can print 10,000 copies of a 48-page, full-color, glossy magazine for around $6,000. Our plan is to generate that much cash and launch the magazine in March. It will be distributed (by us) for free at area bars, venues, studios, universities, coffee shops, book stores and wherever else music lovers might be hanging out.

Can it work? Is there enough interest out there for such a product? Is there enough material to warrant 48 pages, four times per year? Is it stupid to launch a magazine in an era when the world is going online for everything?

Check out the media kit. Let me know what you think.

And if you want to get involved and/ or advertise, I'd love to hear from you.

Regret is a Worthless Emotion. Move On.

2010-11-08T23:24:00.000-05:00

AFTER SPENDING SEVERAL weeks editing and designing our London music magazine, then playing catch-up with the world, I needed a respite. So I picked up a Nick Hornby novel and burned through it (no television, baseball or sleeping for one week).

Juliet Naked is about obsession, regret and loss, I think, though the book jacket says the novel ends with "optimistic conclusions."

One of the primary characters, Duncan, religiously studies the short-lived career of Tucker Crowe, a fictional American musician who mysteriously ends his career while on tour 20-some odd years ago. Duncan interprets lyrics and builds his narrative about the former musician, then posts everything online.

Duncan's ex-girlfriend Annie is a follower but not as stalker-ish. Through a series of events, she winds up connecting with Tucker Crowe online and then brings him to her English seaside town.

Duncan meets his hero, only to learn that he's been off the mark for years. All of Duncan's conjectures are wrong. Annie realizes that the 15 years she spent with Duncan were pretty much a waste of time. Tucker realizes that he squandered his career, talent and life, scattering fatherless children around the globe along the way.

It was an enjoyable, amusing tale although, as a 39-year old dude who still dreams of being in a ska/punk/funk/hip hop band, the notion of squandering your life and not living up to your talents hits a little close to home. Since I finished the book a week ago, I've been non-stop grading, attending meetings, teaching classes and generally running around in circles. I have no control over my life. It's pretty annoying.

What would I have done differently 15 years ago? Probably nothing. I will learn how to play guitar. I will launch that band, someday. And I will read more books.

OK. I have to get back to grading papers.

This Makes Me Happy.

2010-10-31T19:10:00.002-04:00

I WISH PEOPLE would burst into Verdi all the time.

JUMP! The London UnderSound 2010 is DONE.

2010-10-04T21:13:00.005-04:00

THE MAG WE worked on for six weeks in London over the summer went to the printer today. Check it out. Let us know what you think.

There's Only One Way to Learn About the London Music Scene ...

2010-08-11T03:55:00.000-04:00

Bands seen while in London from July 6 through August 11, 2010:

Royal Gala
Big Ass Red
Drawings
Burn the Fleet
Cuba Cuba
Filthy Boy (x2)
Olly the Octopus
Toufique Ali
Pete from Neverland
White Elephant
The Monorals
The Hillfields
The Sequins
Frank Turner
The Futureheads
Wild Palms
Not Cool
Sex Beet
The Black Tricks
Broken Mile
Without My Medicine
Empress
Grupo Fantasma
Firestations
Clock Opera
Plus Ultra
Mirrors
Black Cherry

That's 28 bands in 36 days.

At these venues:

Hootananny
Notting Hill Arts Club
93 Feet East
The Scoop
The Roundhouse
The Lexington
Bull & Gate
The 100 Club
Hackney Wicked (rooftop)
Old Blue Last
London Fields (Little London Fields Festival)

Yellow Plastic Ball = Fun For All.

2010-08-07T19:47:00.016-04:00

WE WERE HANGING AT THE Little London Fields festival in Dalston and we ran out of beer.

So, we walked over to the nearby convenience store, grabbed a few bottles of Red Stripe and approached the cashier. Near the checkout counter, however, we found a little, yellow, plastic ball.

It's not a soccer ball but it's painted like one. It weighs next to nothing. Hit someone with it and they might not even feel it.

I bought it. It cost me £1.49. And it may have been the greatest purchase of the trip, so far.

Of course, the early moments of my time with the ball were rather inauspicious.

When we left the store, it started raining. We retreated to the dance tent where the drum n' bass was pounding. I had to hold onto my ball, which was awkward since I was drinking and dancing. I waved the ball in the air to the beat and Meghan said, "Throw it."

Next thing I know, it was bouncing all around the tent. It took on a life of it's own. I thought I'd never see the ball again. But it seemed to be having fun.

An hour later, when the rain stopped, I was eating by the main stage. And wouldn't you know it - the ball flew through the air, soaring over the crowd.

We made our way over to the ball and wound up kicking the stupid, little, plastic ball for hours with random people.

Really, hours.

We wound up meeting a bunch of folks and just having fun, laughing and playing, until well past dark (we arrived at the party around 4:30, I think).

That ball was an amazing cultural icebreaker. And it was tons of fun.

Luke (below, left) and Kevin continued kicking the ball all the way home on the tube. They hit numerous people with the thing. In Philly, that might earn you a beat down. Here, in London, even the tube passengers joined in the game. And they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Pretty stunning.

Publishing a Magazine and Loving Life.

2010-08-07T07:22:00.008-04:00

THERE IS A young, creative vibe in the East End of London, with so many things happening under the radar.

So Elizabeth Barrett and Luke Edge created a magazine, STATION, to show off the scene - as well as their own talents. They've published four free, bi-monthly issues so far and they have big dreams.

Elizabeth (in the center of the above image) is a trained journalist who previously covered fashion for the conservative newspaper, The Daily Mail ("After a while, I quit telling people where I worked," she said. "People hated it.").

Luke (in the hat) is a designer. They do the majority of the magazine themselves, with the assistance of unpaid columnists and family members forced into a variety of tasks - proofreading, babysitting, distribution, etc.

They had considered doing a website but they like print.

"With a website, you can change things anytime," Luke said. "It's not real. Holding a magazine is like having your balls in your hand. It's permanent."

That has its ups and downs. With such a small crew doing so much work, minor little details often get messed up along the way.

"When it comes back from the printer, I don't even read it," Elizabeth said.

The mag focuses on the arts, music, fashion and lifestyle. They try not to thrust their opinions on people, saying this or that is the cool new thing. Instead, they just highlight interesting people doing interesting things.

It is beautifully designed - simple, with great use of images and white space. They have evolved their product with each issue. For instance, they no longer print the publication date on the cover, giving every issue a feel of timelessness.

They print and hand-deliver 6,000 copies. The publication is financially supported by advertising, though they have yet to make any profit worth noting. The couple, who have an 18-month old son together, do other contract work to support themselves. They recently produced the magazine for the Lovebox music festival. They are currently negotiating a deal to produce a magazine for a major UK retailer.

After they celebrate their one-year anniversary, Elizabeth wants to expand the mag from it's current 64 pages to more than one hundred. One year after that, she'd like to take the magazine monthly. And it will always be free to readers.

Ultimately, the magazine is a labor of love.

"It's lovely just to be able to do something I really like," said Elizabeth.

It's the Jumpoff, UK Style.

2010-08-07T06:29:00.024-04:00

WHEN TAKEN AS an entire collection, well, I fear I may have abused my powers as a university professor. I made my students jump in the air at numerous locales around the UK, like at the Fuller's Brewery (above and below).

On the beach in Brighton and at the Royal Pavilion.

On the tube.

At the Hackney Wicked festival (including with artist Adam Beale and his 8-foot tall wooden chicken).

In pubs (The Lexington).

With a street performer in Bath.

At Stonehenge.

Near Brick Lane.

We have five more days here in the UK. I'll likely have more jump pics coming.

I'm an Old Punk.

2010-07-31T16:27:00.003-04:00

THIS IS MY NEW favorite song, from the band Rum Shebeen. They got a kick start from the good folks at Strummerville, the legacy foundation of Joe Strummer.

Haroon Amir: "Our Minds Are Richer and Wider Than We Ever Imagine."

2010-07-28T18:56:00.009-04:00

IT SEEMS ODD to be in London, sitting in pubs or on underground trains or cafes or wherever, and just reading. But I love it. Especially when the book revolves around the place where I am.

I finished The Buddha of Suburbia by Hanif Kureishi moments ago and I can't think of a better way to have spent the last four or five days.

It's a fascinating tale about London and it's people - the complex relationships they have with their familial backgrounds and their present situations, as well as their relationships with each other.

Karim, the teenage primary character, is an Englishman born to an Indian immigrant father (Haroon Amir) and an English mother (Margaret). He doesn't easily fit into any categories so he really doesn't have a social group (he's too English for the Indian immigrants and too Indian for the white folks). At the same time, he represents so many categories (racially, sexually and intellectually) that he easily gets swept into various activities - almost none of which he feels an attachment to.

Throughout the entire novel, he's on a quest of self-discovery during an era of great tumult in London - the 1970s. We see hippies and punks and New Wavers. He lives - for a period - in West Kensington, one neighborhood away from my Earl's Court flat (a neighborhood he describes as being home to whores, transvestites, addicts and Australians).

Part of my discomfort about reading while in a different land stems from the idea that I'm reading about people doing stuff, rather than actually doing stuff myself.

Ultimately, books make me feel a greater connection to the place, I think. For the most part, sadly, I am a tourist here (today I visited Big Ben and Parliament). I could never live the characters' experiences, even over the six weeks I am here. But books provide context for what I do actually get to experience.

Now I need another book that takes place in London.

Joe Strummer, Punk Rock Warlord.

2010-07-23T15:10:00.007-04:00

ON EDGWARE ROAD near the Harrow Road overpass, the Brits actually recognized Joe Strummer, one of the most passionate musicians of all time. Seven years after he died in 2002, they named a subway tunnel/ art gallery after him. Apparently, Strummer used to be a street musician in these tunnels.

On one hand, the subway tunnel seems appropriate for a punk revolutionary. But Liverpool actually named their airport after John Lennon. At least Strummer hasn't been ignored completely by London, like other local greats.

Music is the Meaning of LIfe?

2010-07-21T19:39:00.008-04:00

I PICKED UP NICK HORBY'S novel High Fidelity with great reluctance. I hated the film, especially the way John Cusack's character addresses the audience. Ugh.

But I'm here, in London, working with students documenting the music scene. And the actual book is about a 35-year old Londoner who runs a record shop in Camden Town. It was perfect for me, I thought.

I loved the book. Read it in about four days. The story of a guy roughly my age who loves music and refuses to let go of his teenage idealism? He hates those who succeed and lose their youthful angst? He still dreams of being a musician? He questions the purpose of his existence?

Me and this dude should sit down for a few pints.

Which, I guess, is why the book was so successful. Everyone likely reaches a certain point in their life and wonders, "Is this what I was meant to be doing?" If that question doesn't arise, I can't help but wonder what kind of meds they're on. Or if they are just suckers who have bought into the mainstream mentality.

I hope it's not just a guy thing - that stereotypical mid-life crisis. I hope everyone asks the question - "Why?"

In the book, the main female character has the same self-doubt. But it is written by a dude. So who knows?

For the remainder of my time in London, I'm keeping my eyes open for Nick Hornby. If you're ego surfing and stumble across this, Nick, drop me a line.

Understating the Hugeness of the Object.

2010-07-20T03:34:00.005-04:00

Students jumping over Stonehenge.Students jumping in Bath.

Tag This Building! Remember the Punks!

2010-07-18T11:27:00.003-04:00

IN THE 1970s, the location above was a hotbed of anarchy. Now it's an Indian restaurant, I think.

Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood operated their boutique, SEX, here. Some of the former employees went on to become members of the Sex Pistols.

Today, there aren't too many punks on Kings Road. No Teddy boys, safety pinned-shirts, studded-leather collars, PVC pants or anything. Youthful angst seems to have been replaced by capitalistic ambition. Bummer.

The area seems pretty posh, actually. There are no traces of 430 Kings Road's past significance - no plaques or even graffiti. I am slightly disappointed.

Randomly Experiencing London (in Pictures).

2010-07-17T18:07:00.010-04:00

HERE ARE A FEW photos from around London.

Above is at the Camden Stables marketplace.
The healing tent at the Lambeth Country Show in Brixton. Below is the Mega Slide.
Here are some of the townhomes in my Earl's Court neighborhood.
This is the old Lots Road Power Station in Chelsea, along the Thames, a few blocks from my flat.

More pics from London can be found here.

"If You Are Engaged in the Events of Your Era, Then Journalism is the Best Career to Have."

2010-07-15T18:20:00.006-04:00

HOUSED IN THE FORMER TIMES of London printing plant, and sharing space with UK network ITV, NBC News London covers Europe, the Middle East and Africa.

With a staff of 42 - including three correspondents, 8 producers and two shooters, they hustle to produce content for NBC's various outlets - the Nightly News with Brian Williams, the Today Show and the brand's websites. Producer Paul Nassar (above) and correspondent Tom Aspell spoke to us today about documenting the world.

In 2003, Nassar spent only 20 days at home. The rest of the time, he was traveling, covering events - mostly the invasion of Iraq. He worked around the clock and, on occasion, slept in cramped tanks with six or seven soldiers. But he loved it.

"We were at the heart of the story the whole world was fascinated with," said Nassar, a native of Lebanon who speaks Arabic, French and English. "If you are engaged in the events of your era, then journalism is the best career to have.""It's never fun when you're there," said Aspell, a veteran correspondent who began covering conflict during the Vietnam War. "But afterward, it's fun. There is a rush that comes with covering war."

Aspell, a native New Zealander, is usually based out of Cyprus.

"When you get home, even the mundane feels great," he said. "After being at war for two months, you get a kick out of the simplest things like going shopping or taking a bath. Food tastes better."

It was a pretty amazing experience meeting with these two, learning about their lives, and getting insight into the process that gets international news to an American audience.

We also saw the state-of-the-art facilities of ITV (below).

Three Images of Tower Bridge (And One of The City Through the Bridge).

2010-07-14T19:16:00.006-04:00

WE ATTENDED A performance by R&B troupe White Elephant today at The Scoop, an outdoor arena along London's South Bank waterfront. The space is about one block from Tower Bridge.

Locals Only? Free Music on Brick Lane.

2010-07-12T19:40:00.012-04:00

FILTHY BOY from Peckham in South London headlined a free concert at 93 Feet East on Brick Lane this evening. Three of the four band members are 18; the fourth is 17. And they rocked - the lead singer has a deep baritone and the confidence to make it work.
Four different acoustic groups played inside at the bar area, including Olly the Octopus (pictured above). 93 Feet East holds free shows every Monday.
Brick Lane is a largely Bengali neighborhood, sprinkled with hipsters on fixies. There seemed to be very few tourists.

Between the numerous South Asian restaurants are a handful of bike shops, record stores and music venues. And the random Banksy artwork, like in the image immediately above.

I'm in London but I'm Not a Tourist. Sort of.

2010-07-11T09:01:00.005-04:00

WE DID THE BUS tour around the city and it kind of sucked. Bus tours generally do. But it was a way to show the students the essential tourist stuff, like St. Paul's Cathedral (above).

I wandered around St. Paul's and found some interesting light in a plaza a block away.

What we're really in London to do is see and hear music. Rough Trade holds a free concert series every Saturday at the Notting Hill Arts Club. Yesterday, I saw the Walnut Tree label's artist showcase, including Burn the Fleet (above).

Two days ago, we had a massive night partying in Brixton at the Hootananny. Royal Gala (above) was on the bill and then we partied with them afterward.

The reality is that we are tourists here. We aren't from here and we have no expertise on the area. We walk around snapping images constantly (at least, I hope the students are as well). I hope the students will at least make unusual images from interesting places, experiencing things away from Central London.

The Non-touristy Way to Experience London.

2010-06-07T12:24:00.003-04:00

IN JULY AND AUGUST, I'll be in London with 18 students documenting the music scene in words and images (and some video). We'll be posting to our class blog I Rock London, as well as to several other sites. We'll gather enough information so that we'll create a music magazine at the end of the program.

We'll hit Big Ben, Parliament and all that other regular stuff. But what we're really looking for is the real London, the way folks live there every day. We won't be tourists. For six weeks, we'll be Londoners.

Proud, I'm Proud of What I Am.

2010-05-05T00:14:00.004-04:00

I RECENTLY FOUND my box of cassette tapes from the 1980's and early 1990's. It was a damn fine era for music.

Baseball is the Meaning of Life.

2010-04-12T12:49:00.006-04:00

THERE WAS A TIME in my life when I wanted to win awards, write books and travel the world. I even had those objectives posted on a sign above my bed when I was in college.

Ten years ago, however, I renounced ambition. I gave up the dream of long-term goals and crap like that. To be honest, I'm not even sure it was ten years ago ... when I renounced ambition, I gave up on watches, calendars and anything else that showed the passage of time. I tried to enjoy the moment. That was my only goal: happiness.

It's too easy for people to forget that life isn't about making money, winning awards, getting promotions, driving fancy cars and becoming famous. Those things, for the most part, are about impressing other people. Who cares what they think?

Sometimes it feels odd not to be striving to steadily progress.

But sometimes I play baseball and nothing else matters in the world.

New Jersey Sucks. But Music Makes Me Happy.

2010-03-11T15:33:00.004-05:00

I WOKE UP AT 5 am today so I could drive to New Brunswick, NJ to present a lecture on entrepreneurial journalism at the Northern Short Course in Photojournalism.

That meant that I had to endure two of my least favorite things: 5 am and New Jersey. To survive the dreadful scenery of strip malls, jughandles and bland corporate parks, I blasted music with the window down and the heat cranked. These songs are some of the tunes that kept me sane in the annoying morning rush hour traffic.
(Ted Leo may be the only good thing to have ever come out of New Jersey).

If Kurt Cobain Were Still Alive, Would He Be Selling Body Spray?

2010-02-23T20:04:00.004-05:00

I WROTE THIS essay for Wonka Vision magazine's online site. Thought I'd share it here as well.

Sometimes I think about Kurt Cobain and I thank him for never selling out. His early, self-imposed exit ensured that it would be his body of work that would stand for him, not his most recent releases, which would most certainly pale in comparison.

We’ve never had to suffer through a Nirvana reunion tour, experiments with 100-piece orchestras in the background, leaked phone messages of a strung-out Cobain barking at his children, tabloid images of Cobain with his arm draped around some teenaged starlet from Gossip Girl, or whatever. We don’t have to live with him preaching like Bono, writing self-righteous columns in the New York Times while hawking BlackBerrys on the side.

In my mind, Cobain will always be the shaggy guy in the fuzzy sweater, passionately belting out painfully personal lyrics. He will always be that principled artist, the one who scrawled “Corporate magazines still suck” on his t-shirt before being photographed for the cover of Rolling Stone.

I can’t imagine him being 43, which he would have been on February 20 if not for his suicide in 1994.

When Nirvana was huge, I was in college and invincible. I could drink all night, run through walls, jump off buildings, say anything to anyone, and never feel the repercussions. Homework? Bah. All I wanted to do was enjoy life, to savor every second. I appreciated what Cobain stood for and I vowed to never do anything just for money.

Ah, the arrogance of youth. I think back and cringe a little. I did some stupid stuff back then, even put myself in danger a few too many times. I didn’t think I’d live to see 40, and I most certainly could not imagine myself being an adult.

I’m 38 years old now. I’m no longer reckless and arrogant (at least, I try not to be arrogant). I’ve actually come to realize that I know nothing about anything, that facts are malleable and everything can be interpreted in different ways. There is not one clear path for all.

Many of my old friends now commute to real jobs, wear suits to work, and then return home late to their suburban expanses where they watch television with their children until bedtime. It’s amazing how easily the principles give way to reality.

With 40 fast approaching, I’m haunted by the notion that the end is near. It’s a silly, arbitrary fear lingering from nearly two decades ago. But it remains.

Death doesn’t scare me though, especially in comparison to leading a bland, sellout life. I’d hate to waste one single second doing bullshit.

My greatest desire in life isn’t money. It’s time. I need more hours in the day – to hang with friends, listen to music, read books, walk my dog, to smell the bacon emanating from the breakfast joint across the street from my house.

What would Kurt Cobain be doing now? What about the others we lost young, like Tupac, Sid Vicious, Janis Joplin or Bob Marley? Would they still be shaking things up? Would they be changing the world?

Or would they be Botox-ed and artificially baked, residing in generic, fenced-in mansions far from reality? Would they be sitting on Jay Leno’s couch pimping greatest hits albums and making cameo appearances in movie remakes?

I look to my grandparents as inspiration. They were born into this world with nothing and they struggled to make ends meet constantly. Life wasn’t always grand but it was real, visceral and invigorating. My grandfather drove backhoes and bulldozers. My grandmother packaged sausage, then drove a school bus in later years.

They never received proper educations but they built a wealth of knowledge because they lived life.

A few weeks ago, they told me that they made arrangements at a funeral home and cemetery so that when they pass, no one will have to endure those hassles during the most difficult of times. I realized that they were doing it for each other – at 86, one is more likely to go first rather than both at the same time. Their rational actions are as much for them as for anyone else.

Their presence proves there is a way to go through life with honor and integrity. Who knows what was going on in Cobain’s mind when he committed suicide – he had a history of depression and drug abuse. In his suicide note, he wrote that his daughter’s life would be so much happier without him.

It’s too bad that she never had the opportunity to appreciate him – and vice versa. But she can be proud of what he did when he was alive. I hope people will say the same about me some day.

Sometimes Nothin' Can Be a Real Cool Hand.

2010-02-08T15:47:00.003-05:00

WHEN I WATCH Paul Newman repeatedly knocked down by George Kennedy in Cool Hand Luke, I love that Newman never quits. Sparring on the prison grounds, the larger Kennedy stomps Newman to the ground. But the dazed Newman keeps getting up, refusing to concede victory.

I've always admired Newman's character in the film, and the principles he maintained. He would never give in to the authorities simply because they are the authorities. If someone said he couldn't do something, he scoffed. Fifty eggs? Ha! He won't quit until he proves them wrong.

Funny thing about quitting: it's socially stigmatized. A quitter is good for nothing, the logic goes. Quitting is a sign of weakness. But why is that so universally accepted?

I thought of this as I considered dropping the class I was taking this semester. I'm letting them win if I drop, I thought. I can beat them.

Then I realized: who cares?

I'm taking classes now for the love of learning. I have no further aspirations as an academic (beyond teaching, that is). I'm in class just for fun. If I'm not enjoying myself, why do it?

What is it about society that forces us to think ill of those who quit? What happened in our collective past that created that ethos? I have no idea. But I have two quitting stories and they are among my favorite tales to tell.

First, my high school baseball coach did not mention me when he spoke to the local newspaper writer about our upcoming season during my senior year. When I read the paper and saw that the coach did not think enough of me, a starting pitcher, to include me among the important factors of the season, I quit. That day, I placed my neatly folded uniform on his office desk and never said another word to the man.

For two years in college, I mailed him the newspaper clippings about my pitching at the collegiate level.

A few years later, I quit my first full-time job, as a staff photographer for the York Dispatch. I had only been there six months and I was miserable. The town smelled funny, the paper was visually bad and the stories were rather dreadful. I had nothing lined up in terms of work.

When the managing editor asked me what I was going to do, I answered, "I don't know. Maybe drive to Florida and watch spring training baseball."

She replied, "Well that's awfully immature."

And I said, "I'm 22. I'm allowed to be immature."

Things worked out. I maintained my principles, primarily that I never wanted to work just for the money. If I ever found myself in a situation where I was only doing stuff to get paid, I would leave.

After much thought, I ultimately decided to drop the class I was taking this semester. I'm a quitter. I accept that.

Reaganomics, and the Downfall of Urban Areas.

2010-02-01T00:02:00.005-05:00

THERE WERE ONCE more than 700 manufacturing plants in the city of Philadelphia, and they employed around 250,000 people.

Now, there are countless old factories in various states of decay, not to mention numerous old industrial structures that have been re-purposed as condos, offices, artist studios, stores and businesses of various sorts. Only 40,000 manufacturing jobs remain in the city and many of those employees now reside outside the city limits.

In Landscapes of Power, Sharon Zukin argues that market forces pushed industry out of the city, and ultimately out of the country. She writes that we are now a society of consumers, not producers. That's not exactly controversial. Then she says that the consumers are better off than the producers. Now I'm confused.

Her primary argument is that capitalism and public policy created the landscapes of America. Culture has the ability to draw people - and thus money - but Zukin speaks of culture less in terms of art and more in terms of commerce.

It's hard not to think of this work as a relic from the Reagan era, when money ruled the world and designer clothes were a sign of success.

We were a divided country back then as we are now, but the divisions seem wider now. The Baby Boomers have hit retirement age and their portfolios have plummeted in recent years. States are strapped for cash. Unemployment is the highest since Reagan ran the country. The national debt is ginormous and showing no signs of ever coming down to Earth.

In the age of telecommuting, can market forces continue to determine where we live? Aren't we beyond the garish display of wealth? Have we learned nothing from the recent economic crisis?

I found Zukin to be interesting and even poetic at times. I also found her research to be lacking concrete evidence, sometimes relying upon hers or other people's opinions and observations.

As a person interested in the fate of cities, and specifically this rust belt town that I live in, I wanted more from her than just saying that urban spaces are liminal areas that merge commerce with culture, space with time, and public with private. No kidding.

We need, she says, to create public value. We need to think about social return on investment to citizens rather than shareholders' financial return. Really? Good luck convincing Wall Street on that one.

Zukin's examinations of past experiences are interesting but what do we do with them? How do we apply those lessons? Where are the answers?

The Future Of Journalism: The J-Ecosystem.

2010-01-18T08:49:00.004-05:00

EVERY "SAVE JOURNALISM" event is dominated by legacy media, people who are financially bound to the way things were. There are generally start-up folks as well, and they are concerned about sustaining themselves. Educators worry about getting funding. Rarely are there folks from the communities served, although that is not the point of this post.

The point is that we all have a vested interest in the future of journalism. Collaboration isn't the long-term solution, I don't believe, but it may be a bridge that buys time until the next funding model for journalism is fully developed.

The problem is that everyone asks, "What's in it for me?"

Well, we're in this together, folks. So how about this: let's create a journalism ecosystem.

I believe there is merit in my previous post regarding the Domino Effect. In that system, the smaller, niche operations get funding from non-profits and the larger outlets get on-the-ground manpower. The system could build and eventually become self-sustaining, I think, and maybe even profitable.

But that is just one-third of what we need.

First, I think we need to develop back-end services for start-up companies to ensure their longevity. There needs to be guidance for advertising, marketing, design and basic business skills. Non-profits may be the way these places begin but that is not a long-term business plan. These places need to learn to stand on their own.

Second, I think there needs to be journalism education. Niche operations as well as the communities served need media literacy training. This starts with the basics of reporting, multimedia information and legal training. But it would also move into ethics, the First Amendment, and criticism of the media. We all need to better understand the role of the journalist so that we can do a better job as journalists, and so we can demand better products as consumers.

The Domino Effect is the final part of the triangle - a website aggregating/ curating the community and niche outlet news, plus a quarterly investigative project. That creates a product as well as a process for important, relevant news to flow.

Everything would feed into each other. It would be holistic, in theory.

I imagine an umbrella group would need to be formed in order to make this happen, maybe something along the lines of the non-profit University City District or the original idea of the Associated Press. The various stakeholders would be involved in some way, though the editorial content should remain independent.

This all begins with collaboration. We can eliminate the massive redundancies in the media and use our resources more wisely. We can build something amazing and incredibly useful to the city.

Thoughts?

The Future Of Journalism: The Domino Effect.

2010-01-07T17:00:00.000-05:00

TRADITIONAL MEDIA may be struggling but there is energy among content producers here in Philadelphia. There are a lot of people doing really cool stuff.

Today, the William Penn Foundation brought together a lot of those folks - established outlets and newbies - to discuss how we might all be able to work together.

Of course, we did not reach a consensus on anything. There was some harping about the 1960's, some ranting about philly.com, and a lot of concern about the general public receiving a comprehensive package of information. There was talk of creating a collaborative website that would also generate original reporting, though the reception of that proposal was rather lukewarm.

Overall, the day was enlightening. And it gave me an idea.

Rather than primarily creating a website dedicated to producing original content, I think there should be a website that aggregates content produced in various communities (geographic and thematic). For instance, there are numerous weekly, community newspapers in the city. Most of them have horrible websites that are difficult to search.

An aggregater would provide easy access for people looking for interesting and unusual stories in the city, i.e. the mainstream media.

The mainstream media primarily react to events now because they don't have the staffing to be proactive - sending reporters into various communities to see what is happening. This aggregater site would provide on-the-ground insight, showing the mainstream media that more happens in some neighborhoods than just the murder of the day. Stories could also be purchased and used by the mainstream media, or the mainstream media could do their own follow up investigations.

To complement the aggregater, I propose a quarterly print publication (and web component) that solely does long-form, investigative journalism. The investigative publication would be directed to high end audiences, people in powerful positions, and those who care deeply about public affairs. The investigative product would serve two purposes: 1). to dig into major issues impacting the city/ region and 2). to act as an agenda-setter for the mainstream media.

There would be sidebars next to the long-form pieces that break down the numbers so that sound-byte media can digest and distribute the information quickly and easily.

The idea would be to create a domino effect in the media because one story in one outlet is not enough anymore.

I think the model could be sustainable. The investigative work would be expensive. Some money could be generated through advertising on the aggregater site. Additional revenue would be generated by the quarterly print issue. The investigative content could also be sold to traditional media, or repurposed in other ways.

It would take start up money to get the wheels rolling, as advertisers would probably not invest in an unknown product.

This could be a way of making people care about the important issues that impact citizens' lives.

Just an idea. I'd appreciate any feedback.

Of Friends and Unfettered Thought.

2010-01-04T13:38:00.000-05:00

THE FIVE GRADUATE STUDENTS live in an old home, far from everything including the village created to house the servants back in the old days. The students spend their days studying literature at Trinity College, reading, conversing, restoring the home and enjoying each others' company. They lead examined lives, pondering meanings in books and life, and they shun Capitalism in all its forms.

Everything is grand until one of them is murdered.

Tana French, author of The Likeness, delivers an implausible plot twist - an undercover detective, who happens to be the victim's mirror image, takes the victim's place in the house. We are expected to believe that the detective sufficiently learns enough about the victim to imitate her speech, actions and thoughts. And then the detective slides right into the victim's life, fooling everyone around her.

It's a stretch, for sure. And French spends the first 150 pages of the novel explaining the characters' history so that we buy the premise. The detective is rather brilliant and oddly similar to the victim, French writes.

Fortunately, French deftly builds these characters (the students, locals and law enforcement), giving them personalities and back stories. They are an intriguing group, weaved together expertly. There is also background on the Irish people, as well as the country and its difficult relationship with the British. The book is more than a police procedural, which it seemed like it would be in the beginning. The book is about why people do what they do.

I came to admire the students and their ability to live independently (albeit as a group). Their existences revolved around unfettered thought rather than the mundane musings of everyday life. They discussed and debated ideas, using literature as the support for their arguments. While the rest of the world is blogging and twittering, these students basked in conversation. They complemented each other, it seems, creating one whole.

I wish I had as much time to read as they do, and more friends to discuss literature with.

The Unbearable Arrogance of Being.

2009-12-28T15:30:00.000-05:00

IT TAKES A CERTAIN amount of confidence to get through life. You have to believe in yourself and your abilities in order to make things happen - even the common, everyday stuff like driving, selecting fruit, raising children, etc.

When does confidence in oneself become arrogance? When does the politician (or plumber or accountant or teacher or whatever) go from being a person who believes in his or herself to a person who thinks they are the best person for the job? Nobody can do it better than I can, they believe. Is that arrogance?

I just finished reading David Carr's memoir, The Night of The Gun. It was an interesting read - an alt weekly journalist who became a crackhead, got cleaned up, suffered from cancer, raised twin girls, made it bigtime, became an alcoholic and then cleaned up again. His gimmick in this exercise in self-indulgence is that he reported his life rather than writing things as he remembered them. Many of the exploits occurred while he was under the influence of something - his memories can't be trusted. So he found police, legal and medical records and then interviewed friends, family and colleagues from his drug-addled days.

Carr's tales are often redundant and many are stereotypical, like a bad crime drama. But it was a fun, easy read with amazing insight into the thought process of the addict.

The book, I think, is really about addiction in all it's forms. Carr clearly was addicted to drugs and alcohol. But I think he was (and maybe continues to be) really addicted to life, and his place in it.

Is it arrogant to write a memoir? Isn't the author sharing their personal history in order to educate, or at least entertain? Aren't they saying that their life has value to others?

I searched for the purpose of Carr writing his life's story. On one hand, there is a huge sense of narcissism and arrogance. On the other hand, it's an entertaining and informative tale from a guy whose work I have respected for some time. I learned a lot.

Ultimately, I think that Carr wrote the book because of his zest for life. He documented his existence because he fears it won't last long. His track record and his family history point to a short lifespan, and he wants people to realize that he didn't waste his time or talent.

I can appreciate that. It's something I think about all the time.

History for the Common Man. Very Cool.

2009-12-21T23:41:00.000-05:00

PHILLIES SHORTSTOP JIMMY ROLLINS (second from right) presented his 2008 championship season uniform to the Atwater Kent Museum of Philadelphia today. His jersey, cleats, hat, batting gloves and other accessories will be the centerpiece of the museum's sports exhibit when the museum re-opens in the fall of 2010.

"People live and breath sports in Philadelphia," said the museum's executive director, Viki Sand.

The World Is A Museum. Experience It.

2009-12-14T09:38:00.000-05:00

AFTER 15 WEEKS OF discussion about the fate of museums and their connection to the public, I've come to two conclusions.

First, there is a disconnect between what curators present and what people want. People still travel and they make museums a part of their journey. I just can't help but wonder whether tourism and education necessarily go hand in hand. I get the feeling, some people are just going through the motions and not EXPERIENCING life.

Second, museums need a dedicated funding stream. They need to operate like small businesses and ensure their sustainability. A big part of that is developing a rock solid mission statement that takes their AUDIENCE into account. Too many museums, I fear, expect to be lauded for what they've done in the past. But the world is crazy these days, what with the Internet and all.

The takeaway from the semester? There is a story behind everything - people, buildings, streets ... even behind history itself. I'm fascinated by the notion that the majority of history is thrown out, deemed as irrelevant, and that people in high places essentially create a narrative that we are told is history.

Stories are all around us. Rather than wait for someone to explain them to me, I'm going to discover them on my own.

The Value of Images Outweighs All.

2009-12-07T21:25:00.000-05:00

IT WAS ERNEST HEMINGWAY'S spartan yet powerful prose that sent me traveling around the world. I had to see Paris after reading A Moveable Feast. After reading A Farewell to Arms, I wanted to experience living in Italy, absorbing the culture by walking the medieval streets and drinking wine in the piazza. I wanted to run with the bulls in Spain after reading The Sun Also Rises.

Those books got me excited. I had to see those places. Reading about them was not enough.

On my subsequent trips, I tried to stay extended periods. The parachuting tourist is the bane of my existence. You can't experience the life of those places in a day or two.

When I travel, I am always very conscious that I smile constantly - walking down the boulevards, sitting in restaurants, climbing mountains, whatever. I can't help it. I'm a happy dude. I wear it on my sleeve. It gives me away as a tourist, for sure, but so does my relentless shooting of images.

The images are more than souvenirs, the way that I remember those places, those people or those moments in time. They are trophies that I show people later, telling them, "You have got to see this!"

To me, banning someone from taking pictures is counter-productive to a museum, private or public. The museum exists for a reason - for people to see, experience and learn from the collection.

Visits and the memories created are ephemeral. Images can last forever (or at least, a lifetime). Images can be shared (not that oral tales can't but it's not the same). Excitement can be generated by showing others what you have experienced.

Will the value of the museum decrease because images are shared by people? I don't think so. Does the institution lose possible revenue by allowing people to photograph their collection? No. Will random visitor's images wind up all over the web, without any control from the museum? Probably. But who cares? Life is not that serious.

I finished reading Hemingway's Across the River and Into the Trees while sitting in a square in Venice. I barely remember anything about the book except that it took place in Venice, and it was rather horrible. But thanks to the images I made while sitting in that piazza, I remember that moment like it was ten minutes ago.

In 25 Years, All Museums Will Have Safe Words.

2009-11-23T00:57:00.000-05:00

THE CHANGING SHAPE OF America, and the way we communicate, has altered the way we appreciate history.

We are more multicultural now, and the divide between rich and poor hasn't been this stark since 1929. Ouch. More women are going to college and that means the ladies will be making more money than men someday soon. Augmented reality is here already (as are QR codes) and the future of museums, according to the American Associations of Museums Center for the Future of Museums, is in immersive experiences like at the (gulp) Conner Prairie Living History Museum.

Technology disrupted the old ways of understanding history as Roy Rosenzweig said all along.

Will all history become virtual? It probably must, to some extent. And to balance the lonely websurfing experience, we'll need real, tactile adventures that we can learn from (I'm thinking about spending a few hours locked in an internment camp).

Until then, I'm going to buy a tri-corner cap and cheer on marathoners like the guy in the picture did this morning near Washington Square.

You're all winners!

Web Review: The Clara Breed Collection at The Japanese American National Museum.

2009-11-23T00:13:00.000-05:00

CLARA BREED BEGAN SERVING as a librarian in San Diego in 1929. The region housed many Japanese American children, many of whom frequented the library and befriended Breed.

Two months after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, allowing the military to move anyone to anywhere at anytime without a trial. By March 1942, any Japanese American in California, Oregon or Washington was to be relocated to Spartan, dusty camps in Wyoming, Idaho, Arkansas and other remote, inland places. They were fenced in and guarded by armed military. Around 120,000 Japanese Americans were shipped to these internment camps, including dozens of young friends of Breed.

Breed, who was 35 when the war started, gave stamped envelopes, paper and journals to her young friends before they were relocated. She then corresponded with numerous internees during their years of captivity.

In 1993, the year before Breed passed away, she donated her collection of 300 letters, journals and cards to the Japanese American National Museum in Los Angeles. In recent years, the museum has scanned many of the documents – most of which are several pages long. There are currently 243 records available for online viewing.

The result is a haphazard but intimate insight into life behind barbed wires, state-sanctioned xenophobia and blatant racism.

Louise Ogawa, then 18, wrote to Breed shortly after arriving in Poston, Arizona from a temporary holding facility in California:

“A friend who returned from Colorado related the following incident to me. He said, while in town a few boys entered a restaurant to have a bite to eat. The first thing the waitress asked was ‘Are you Japs?’ When they replied, ‘Yes,’ she turned her back on them and said they don't serve Japs.”

The same young men, who were sent to Colorado on a work detail, were harassed by police officers as well, according to Ogawa’s letter.

Letters are presented as scanned images. They are also transcribed for easier reading. However, several of the transcriptions contain typos.

It’s difficult to locate material – the search function actually serves 13 of the museum’s archived databases. There are few keywords to assist the average visitor. On the home page, there are individual documents but the order is completely random despite two viewing options – one by date and another by object number. Once a document is clicked, there are subject tags for each post on that page. Those will help find similar documents but nothing else.

There is a link to the bio of the letter writers. But the bios only provide birth dates and the camps the writer inhabited. There is no further information about them – how long they lived in the camp, whether they enrolled in the American military, where they went once the camps were evacuated, etc.

The visitor must stumble across material. But often, what is found is stunning. For instance, Yukio Tsumagari, who had been studying at Berkeley before the war broke out, wrote that American military investigators searched the internees’ barracks at random, without asking permission.

“Huge mob of infuriated people gathered to ask for the reason of such doings,” she wrote to Breed’s sister, Eleanor. “Frightened by the large crowd and excited by pointed questions directed to him, the investigator drew his gun and threatened to shoot anyone who might molest him.”

For the most part, the museum allows the letters to speak for themselves. There is little interpretive information accompanying the documents. The museum occasionally labels the internment camps as “concentration camps,” a term that is rather controversial. Anyone who seeks out this material, however, is likely to sympathize with the language.

It would be amazing to see the museum link their image, oral history and video collections to the letters, creating a multimedia experience.

(Photo at the Manzanar War Relocation Center by Jack Iwata via the Japanese American National Museum)

Quato to Quade: "A Man Is Defined By His Actions, Not His Memories."

2009-11-14T22:50:00.000-05:00

I REMEMBER THE MOMENT Princess Diana died. I was watching television late at night when the newsflash came across the screen. Tailed by paparazzi, her car slammed into a wall. I knew it was a huge story, so I decided right then that I would have to document the funeral.

The next day, however, I had to photograph the Eagles playing the Giants at the Meadowlands. I remember walking down the tunnel to the field. The fans leaning over the railings - waiting for the players - saw me and a few other photographers with our long lenses and multiple cameras. Then somebody yelled, "There's the guys who killed the princess!"

It was unexpected, to say the least. People were aware of and cared about Diana. At a football game. In America. But that doesn't justify the National Constitution Center in Philadelphia holding a Princess Diana exhibit in 2009.

After reading Alison Landsberg's Prosthetic Memory and Jay Winter's essay on memory, I can't help but think the NCC's decision to run the exhibit is purely financial.

People's lives are so disconnected from their traditional, familial past that they cling to histories created by the mass media, Landsberg writes. And they take those collective histories and place themselves within the context of that history. She says that the phenomena usually surrounds larger, traumatic events - she specifically cites the Holocaust, the early 20th century mass immigration of Eastern Europeans, and slavery. Because of mass media, we identify ourselves within the context of these events.

The problem, I think, is that as history becomes more and more commodified, the history that we are presented are events that have greater appeal to a wider audience. Maybe it's just the history as presented in the mass media but that history aspires to be popular.

Landsberg believes that the commodification can be used for progressive agendas - the loosening of traditional narratives, the establishment of tight, yet diverse communities. I think her book doesn't satisfactorily take into account the power of the Internet. As people have the ability to completely tailor their media (and historical) intake, we have less and less in common with each other. In 50 years, I can't help but wonder what we will consider the massive traumatic events of our time. Already, the attacks of 9/11 seem like they occurred so long ago.

Is the creation of a prosthetic memory an over-simplification of history? Is there a problem with creating a false sense of shared authority? Is there such a thing as a privately held public memory? I don't know.

I'll never forget how quiet London was on the day of Diana's funeral. There were millions of people around Kensington Palace, Trafalgar Square, Westminster Abbey and everywhere in between. No one spoke above a whisper. It was an experience - one that could only be fully appreciated by someone who was there.

Does that personal experience of a public event count as history? Does it only become history when it is recalled as memory, or presented as memory in the mass media?

How can you trust memory when it is so altered by the context of the present? Because I've told the story dozens of times and each time, London gets more and more quiet.

Yesterday Was Cool. But It's Over.

2009-11-09T00:28:00.000-05:00

A SKINNY TEEN draped in a dark hoodie smacked me in the face with a brick one night when I was walking in my neighborhood.

Gentrification? Yeah. I know how touchy the subject is.

The kid, who I'm guessing was in some sort of initiation thing since his pack of 12 friends watched from across the street, was presumably part of an old guard in Northern Liberties - working class or poor African-Americans. They used me, a fairly white-looking dude, as their statement against the new people moving into their enclave. The brick carried great symbolism: the new people in the area were moving into newly built homes. Construction was everywhere back then (2004), and future homes (i.e. bricks) were piled on every block.

Here's my beef with gentrification: the world spins constantly. You can't grab one moment in time and hold on to it forever. It just doesn't work that way. Things change. Get over it.

Nancy Raquel Mirabal poses interesting questions in the conclusion of her essay, Geographies of Displacement: Latinas/os, Oral History, and the Politics of Gentrification in San Francisco’s Mission District. Who decides how we remember and why?

I think what we're seeing is, as Cary Carson eludes to, a fragmentation of the audience, and therefore a democratization of history. Museums are in trouble because people want personal connections to history, a la Tilden, or Rosenzweig and Thelen. They can't draw the masses anymore because the common denominator is becoming smaller and smaller.

So who decides how, what and why we remember? It's on us, sadly. Where does the historian fit in? I don't know.

We've been suffering the same problem in journalism. The audience doesn't need us to tell them what is news. They pick and hunt what they want to ingest. That leads to people horribly uninformed about important things (many of my journalism students didn't realize there was a Septa strike last week until they saw the locks on the subway entrances). But it also leads to people becoming completely absorbed in the things they love. That can mean opportunity.

I would say there is still a demand for museums and history, despite the lack of interest in the National Museum of the Old West. But people don't seem to want to go to the history. They want history - their specific, targeted history - to come to them (even if only virtually). The delivery system has changed.

These are changes that have happened already. Museums, history, journalism - and everybody in between - must adapt.

You can't hit everyone in the face with bricks.

Sometimes, Tourists Don't Totally Suck.

2009-11-08T18:31:00.000-05:00

MOOKIE AND I JUST returned from a walk around Independence National Park (chasing squirrels and PATCo trains, as well as sniffing dogs ... for more than two hours!). Near 4th and Market, a pair of out-of-towners stopped me and asked, "Do you know where Rancid Street is?"

They were looking for Ranstead Street and the Ritz movie theater, not the punk band. But they made my day (and it's actually been a pretty grand day).

Tourists, And The Vital Importance of Beauty.

2009-11-01T17:20:00.000-05:00

I ALWAYS THOUGHT THAT PARK rangers rescued picnic baskets from bears and verbally snapped at little critters. I always thought of them more as law enforcement rather than cultural guides (maybe it's the badges?). I think that says something - I can't be the only person influenced by popular culture, can I?

I never would have considered the rangers to be the middlemen of history and/ or information. I'm used to green-clad men and women barking at me, "Put that dog on a leash!"

Tourists (and the occasional rogue local) need to be herded, and rangers do a fine job.

I'm not sure if I buy into Freeman Tilden's idyllic notions of rangers as provocateurs, though I do admire his thinking.

His principles, as stated in Interpreting Our Heritage, seem to be applicable beyond the rangers, interpreters or even historians. I see lessons to be learned in journalism, and especially in teaching. The text is really a pedagogical outline.

The presenter needs to be aware of the audience, inviting them to participate - even if only in their minds. Reaching that personal connection is key. I think interpreting is not the best word, but providing context is invaluable. Striving to make people think and ask questions, I believe, should be the goal of every person, regardless of occupation. Using your mind means you are alive.

The danger, I imagine, is in the views of the interpreter. All information is analyzed, edited, and processed, meaning the audience may hear a compelling, one-sided narrative rather than the documented history.

The transformation of Louisa May Alcott's home, Orchard House, is a great example. The home served the mindset of the time it was turned into a monument (early 20th century) rather than the middle 18th-century era of Alcott's famous book, Little Women. Alcott's post-publication suffragist activities are largely ignored. Patricia West argues that the Alcott home preservationists used the home to champion social and political agendas of the time - primarily the anti-immigrant/ traditional values ethos held forth by Anglo-Saxons.

I agree with Richard Handler and Eric Gable when they write that history can't be presented as it was, especially in a living setting like Williamsburg. Our understanding of history changes, and the presentation needs to change as well. They argue that the Tilden-esque idea of audience awareness creates an atmosphere where the audience is left comfortable - and the ugly truths (i.e. slavery) do not get proper treatment.

I think that, however, is a harsh example of Tilden's principles at work.

Perhaps it's connected to the stage of life during which he wrote (most of) this book but Tilden, to me, seems to be a man who enjoys life. He sees nature and he is in awe. He waxes poetically about the amateur, the happy person who does things for the love of it, not for material gain or fame.

He pines for a renaissance of the appreciation of beauty, and not just the superficial appearance. He wants people to experience things.

I wonder if tourists have that ability.

ON A SIMILAR BUT UNRELATED TOPIC: Deer culling at Valley Forge National Historic Park? They want to kill around 1,100 deer over the next few years, leaving fewer than 200 remaining. The deer pose a threat to drivers, apparently.

Hey gas guzzlers - how about you move away from the deer, dumbasses? They were there first.

Chasing Squirrels Where History Was Made.

2009-10-27T00:03:00.000-04:00

WHEN I WAS A CHILD, my father and I used to walk around Philadelphia all the time. We'd hit Penn's Landing or the Ben Franklin Parkway when there were festivals, and sometimes we just walked around Independence National Park (above).

When I moved into my first apartment in town, it was within walking distance of Independence Park ... and purposely so. Walking through the historic area reminded me of my youth, of fine days with my Dad.

I know the area's history and I appreciate it greatly. I love knowing that I live where the Revolution began, where visionary people plotted the fate of the nation. I eat that up bigtime.

These days, I love living near the park as much for the sentimentality of the place, for the connections to my personal past. When I chase squirrels and stomp through the leaves with my dog, I remember those Kodachrome days of my childhood.

It's cool that there is history here. But that's not my primary reason for visiting all the time. The history here, I think, is primarily consumed by out-of-towners.

History was used to revitalize this area long before the progressive public historians got their mitts on the national park in Lowell, Mass. While I don't like the idea of using history and/ or tourism as an economic engine, I'm grateful that this space exists.

Tourists Suck, Cultural Or Otherwise.

2009-10-25T23:52:00.000-04:00

A FEW YEARS AGO, a Japanese friend came to Philly for a few days. We did all the requisite stuff - took pictures with the Liberty Bell and ate cheesesteak sandwiches, blah, blah, blah. But I wanted my friend to see authentic Philly.

So I took him to work.

That day, I photographed a college basketball game where a Drexel University player crashed to the ground but continued to play defense. When an opposing player ran over top of him, the Drexel player pantsed him (above).

It may not have been a classic Philly moment but it was real. And few tourists would leave Philly saying that they had witnessed such a thing (while sitting on the floor of the court, below the basket, no less). It was way better than riding a stinky horse around Old City or touring a history museum that would carry no relevance for my foreign friend.

Living the life of a local was way better than being a tourist.

I listened to a lecture by Columbia University's Kenneth Jackson one time and he said that a city that relies upon tourism is a city that has nothing else to offer (paraphrased, of course). I completely agree. We shouldn't design or renovate our cities to suit outsiders. There has to be more to us, right?

I understand that Lowell, Mass. had multiple reasons for glorifying it's manufacturing past. It wasn't just to draw tourists. But the first step in the revitalization of the pioneering industrial town was to bring in outsiders - tourists. Economic stability would stem from there, the theory goes.

After reading Cathy Stanton's The Lowell Experiment, I see traces of that outsider-attracting philosophy in other cities, including Philadelphia.

To combat Lowell's post-industrial decay, Massachusetts added Lowell to it's system of state heritage parks in declining mill towns. A few years later, the town was designated a National Historical Park. The intent was to inform people about the culture and history of the town. But there was also an element of using federal funding to spruce the joint up and bring in tourist dollars.

The immediate impact was job creation and cleaner looking properties. The downside seems to be that the jobs were much fewer than the former industrial businesses created. The new jobs were either for high-end positions that went to educated outsiders, or low-paying service-industry jobs. The divide between rich and poor has grown, according to Stanton.

Philadelphia has been expanding the convention center in order to draw more and more outsiders. And we are likely to see similar results - the jobs created will be service-industry positions with low ceilings. The benefit to the city will be minimal (except we'll have a mammoth facility that sits empty for much of the year).

Why, Ed? Why?

I appreciate the notion of preserving history, as Diane Lea wrote about in her introduction to A Richer Heritage. Nationally significant landmarks and historic places with relevance to their communities should be saved and maintained (despite the difficulty in defining what is significant or relevant).

But manipulating the past in order to reinvent a city seems misguided, a temporary fix. As Stanton noted, it has taken an obscene amount of public money to renovate Lowell. Why should they receive more money than Altoona? Or Philadelphia?

If the past is such a burden on the city and it can't maintain it's glorious heritage, maybe it should just crumble. That would be real, like Rome or Athens. Or Detroit. Besides, the renovations have no authenticity except in the light of post-urban renewal guilt.

I bet there is a reason that we hear very little from actual, long-time residents of Lowell in Stanton's book. I bet they see right through the facade of the subsidized village.

Life Is Not Black & White.

2009-10-19T01:11:00.000-04:00

SLAVES LIVED ON THE grounds now occupied by the Liberty Bell pavilion and other national park space between Market and Chestnut streets.

Should that fact be integrated into the stories told inside the pavilion and other area historic sites? Of course! Would the sin of slavery ruin the narrative symbolism of the Liberty Bell? Who cares?

History is written by the victors, for certain, but does history have to be full of winners and losers? Can't we simply throw out ideas and let people interpret them on their own? Do historians have to be such control freaks? Does the National Park Service have to sell America as the land of heroes all the time?

I understand that slavery in America is a touchy subject. While I found Horton and Horton, the editors of Slavery and Public History, to be a bit condescending, I see their point. Appreciating how slavery shaped the country is relevant, something that deserves to be known. But the recognition of that past can be awkward. We've ignored it for so long.

How should museums and historians handle slavery?

Here's my advice: Deal with it.

We weren't always angels? I'm shocked! Shocked, I tell you. Whatever. Add it to the script and move on. Own your past, I say, for better or worse.

Perhaps I feel removed from the controversy since the majority of my family couldn't have been involved in America's dirty past. Half my family was in Japan (that's my grandfather with friends in the image at left), and a quarter were in Ireland. That leaves a little Pennsylvania Dutch (those are my great grandparents below) but that part of my family has generally been poor, rural folks (my father actually had an outhouse when he was a child).

I found some of the controversies in the book to be rather empty. The Library of Congress shows images of plantation life? An Abraham Lincoln statue in Richmond? Brown University was funded by the slave trade? Get over it already.

I just don't get it. I'm not saying everyone needs to go all David Letterman or anything, but why not have the conversation about slavery? It doesn't mean that it has to change you. But maybe it will?

Debate the evidence. Don't deny it's existence.

Three Hundred Million People Can't Have a Collective Memory.

2009-10-18T00:24:00.000-04:00

AMERICA IS TOO BIG. It's too large to have a two party political system. It's too big for a national health care plan. It's too big to have standardized education requirements.

And it's too big to have a single collective understanding of our nation's history.

Roger Launius, a curator at the National Air and Space Museum, asked the question: should memory be unified (one people, one nation) or should it be fragmented and personal.

My answer is that it's impossible to have the singular approach. There are just too many of us. We come from so many different places, with so much different baggage. What we deem to be relevant often is of absolutely no interest to other folks.

It is way too easy to manipulate the past in order to further certain agendas. Launius asserts that some national figures wanted a historical narrative that served the public good and buttressed the nation-state.

I can't even tell you how much that offends me. Especially in the case of the Enola Gay. Seriously, you want to use the plane that delivered a bomb that killed 140,000 people as a booster for the nation's ego? Maybe they should blast "Rock You Like a Hurricane" in the exhibit hall. I'd feel so proud.

I'm not just saying this because I'm half-Japanese. I visited Nagasaki's Peace Park (above, circa 1994) and it made me sick to my stomach. As an American, I felt so guilty. The argument that dropping two atomic bombs saved American lives is ridiculous to me. We massacred innocent people, not just those with weapons. It was inhuman.

The National Air and Space Museum, which is devoted largely to war and the constant pursuit of "progress," is a tool of the government. Now, I'm depressed that so many children visit the place.

History cannot be objective. It is open to interpretation, and that is a wonderful thing. The problem, I imagine, is ensuring that society functions with a backbone of common ground.

And this is why I think the nation is just too large.

What is deemed important in one community may not be important to another community. With more than 300 million people, our lowest common denominators are few (hello, American Idol?). Our museums should focus, I think, on serving the local populations, teaching them about the region and it's place in the world.

(I'll have thoughts on the Horton/ Horton book later ... I purchased the wrong book!).

Who Gets The Money?

2009-10-10T17:30:00.000-04:00

HYPOTHETICAL SITUATION: The city has a grant to evaluate local museums. In the end, two good museums and five bad museums will receive sizable amounts of cash to address key areas. Who gets the money and why?

First of all, let me say this - if you can't earn your keep, maybe you shouldn't exist? Isn't it about time cultural institutions were run like the small (and not so small) businesses that they actually are? Isn't it about time they developed actual revenue streams beyond ticket and merchandise sales? Donors are always welcomed and encouraged but how much can these places rely upon the government for support? I mean, tax breaks and other services provided by the government are acceptable to a point, but can the business model actually be to beg for money every year?

I'm not a capitalist. I just don't trust the rag tag bunch of goons who run the government (city, state or federal). Come on ... they wanted to give Comcast millions of dollars in tax breaks by deeming the Comcast Tower site as a Keystone Opportunity Improvement Zone. The Keystone tax breaks are intended for disadvantaged areas struggling to attract business and people. Um, the tower is at 17th and JFK, not 3rd and Indiana.

Anyway.

I don't think you need to compare the various institutions in order to determine the best or worst. To me, it really comes down to the mission/ purpose of the institution and whether they live up to that mission.

If the city is going to dole out the grants, there has to be significant benefit to the public within the mission of the various museums. How do you determine public benefit? Good question. The simple criteria would be number of visitors, but it's also important to factor in potential - could an organization better serve the public if they had more funding?

If the city is controlling the purse strings, there should also be significant relevance to the local community. Relevance is another idea that is difficult to asses. Basically, the institution should provide a product that speaks to the local/ regional audience (an Atwater Kent would therefore score higher than a Barnes Foundation, for instance).

An evaluation of this sort would actually be a great publicity tool for the cultural community. It would force them all to evaluate their institutions. The results would be controversial, of course, because the 493 places that did not receive a grant will bitch and moan about cronyism, favoritism and general unfairness (like lack of money to compete, preconceived notions, etc).

The places that received the money would be obligated to document their use of the grant in furthering their community reach or their local relevance. The good museums would be expected to build on what they have whereas the bad museums would have to make steps to achieve their potential.

Personally, any talk of money absolutely disgusts me. I'd rather see museums and other institutions fall under the realm of universities. Then, museums become a prestigious asset with a built in audience (in theory) who can use the collections for further research. Museums would be an amenity for the students. And the burden of a museum's financial survival would be lumped into the university's overall budget.

Just a thought.

Tell Me You Love Me. Please. Pretty Please?

2009-10-04T22:37:00.000-04:00

WHEN YOU GO TO PARIS, you visit the Louvre. You have to. It's an obligation like gazing at the Eiffel Tower or sitting in a French cafe. You just have to. In Madrid, you see the Prado. In London, you have to see the National Gallery.

In Philadelphia, the tourist obligations are less sophisticated - the only mandatory experience is that you eat a cheesesteak sandwich, complete with a gooey, cheese-like, orange substance.

Nonetheless, I usually take out-of-towners to the Liberty Bell and the Art Museum. Philadelphia has to be more than sports hooligans, bad schools, violent crime and political shenanigans. Please?

On my recent trip to the Art Museum, my Japanese guests remarked that the pride of our art world was like a small version of the Metropolitan Museum in New York. How cute!

I swallowed my pride. But it did raise questions, like, how do you define/ quantify a good museum? What makes one better than another? And, should a museum reflect the citizens' interests or should it present what the museum staff consider to be presentable art?

Stephen Weil's book, Making Museums Matter, addresses these questions and many more.

At first, I feared I wouldn't like Weil. He begins his collection of essays with a proposal for a museum score card of sorts. He establishes four criteria for museums (purpose, capability, effectiveness and efficiency) and assigns weight for each criteria - a rubric for the museum world.

As I believe that each museum is different, and to compare them is rather irrelevant, I disliked his rubric. But I understand his point - museums need to establish and constantly be aware of their mission. Then, they need to set goals to ensure that they live up to their mission. Museums, like people, need to be loved and appreciated. We need assessment tools to tell us we are good and relevant.

Weil seems far too interested in the business of museums for my taste. But again, I understand his point. There is a financial reality for these institutions, and competition for funding can be intense (especially given the current economic situation). A museum that can assess it's own worth - especially in comparison to other institutions, is going to fare better financially (assuming they score high).

That rubric won't necessarily prove the museum's worth, however. Some museums will recognize the proper criteria and design exhibits to satisfy those demands. They can artificially reach target numbers. It reminds me of No Child Left Behind requirements, or Temple's system for faculty earning merit raises. Play the game right and you get paid.

Ugh ... money matters just make me sad.

Anyway. Weil is an enjoyable, intelligent writer, though I didn't realize he was enjoying himself until I learned that Ferd Threstle is a fictional character.

I can't help but now think about whether the Philadelphia Museum of Art should change, grow, maybe take chances with art by lesser known, local artists. Maybe our museum is a little Met, and maybe we need something that more closely represents this city.

The problem is that if you let the people decide, will Rocky hold court in the grand staircase, and will galleries be dedicated to Cheez-Whiz collages?

Bygone Industry and Beer: I'll Drink To That.

2009-10-03T16:05:00.000-04:00

THE COHOCKSINK CREEK RAN right through my neighborhood, Northern Liberties, making the area an industrial hub in early America.

While the creek has long since been filled in (the only traces of it remain as part of the municipal sewer system), you can follow the creek's path and see how industry developed around it.

The Northern Liberties Neighborhood Association organized a pair of historical tours today, one looking at industry in general and the other focusing on the breweries of the area.

Along the creek's bed were leather manufacturers, iron works, glass makers, wheel makers, electric companies, sugar refineries, and numerous mills producing copious amounts of linens, laces and other dry goods. Many of the streets in the neighborhood were built around huge industrial plots, which explains why this neighborhood has so many angled streets in contrast to the strict grid system of Old City.

At various points in time, there were more than 100 breweries in the immediate vicinity. The first porter and first lager (as noted in the historical marker in the image at right) brewed in America were both brewed here.

It was interesting to note who attended the tours: mostly gray-haired folks on the industry tour, and many of those people are active in the community. The brewery tour brought out a different crowd - younger couples who created a much livelier atmosphere on the trolley tour (both tours began and ended at Yard's Brewery which offered free beer).

Everyone was snapping pictures even though 90 percent of what was discussed is no longer there, and the ten percent that remains is in a dilapidated state.

History, Culture & Vandalism at Fairmount Park

2009-10-02T23:11:00.000-04:00

THE JAPANESE HOUSE IN FAIRMOUNT PARK is an unusual attraction in that it combines culture, Japanese history, Philadelphia lore and horticulture. As site manager Matt Palmer says, the house has a different meaning for every visitor who arrives.

Tours at the house delve into the history of the site, history of the house, historical context about medieval Japan, architectural information, and anecdotes about famous Philadelphians like John Morris, John Kelly and Frank Rizzo.

The location is near the site of the Japanese Bazaar exhibit featured in the 1876 Centennial celebration. Shortly after the Centennial event, an Asian-inspired lotus pond was built where the Japanese house now sits. In 1905, a 300-year old Japanese Gate House that had been displayed at the 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exhibition was installed by the pond. That house, known as Nio-mon, slowly deteriorated from neglect, and ultimately burned down in 1955.

The structure that is there now was installed in 1958, having been donated to Philadelphia by Japan. The house, known as Shofuso, was originally built by the Japanese government in 1954 to be exhibited at the Museum of Modern Art in New York.

The house is built in the traditional style (hiroki bark roof, tatami mat floors, etc), with architectural references that point to the style popular between 1550 and 1660. The house is representative of a nobleman's home of that era, featuring a room with a built-in desk, typical of high ranking priests, scholars or maybe even samurai.

For nearly 25 years, the house was tormented by vandals who tagged the shoji screens, stole priceless works of art and otherwise abused the building. In the 1980's a grassroots movement formed an organization that maintains the site, which is technically owned by the city.

While vandals continue to break into the house, it is much less of a problem than it was in the 1970's.

The site receives around 12,000 visitors per year, and many people spend much of their time walking the gardens that surround the large pond. If you step near the edge of the pond, colorful koi rush to the surface, assuming you are there to feed them.

Seriously: No Pictures Beyond This Point.

2009-09-25T17:05:00.000-04:00

THE BARNES FOUNDATION gallery is among the most amazing collections of art I've ever seen. You can get within sneezing distance of the 181 Renoir's, 69 Cezanne's, 59 Matisse's and handful of Van Gogh's.

But you can't take pictures anywhere inside.

Technically, you aren't even allowed to have a camera in your possession inside the private facility. There are security cameras in every corner of every room, and there are security guards throughout the facility.

But the foundation is otherwise progressive when it comes to images of their art work. They have digitized every single piece in the collection, including the three-dimensional pieces. Images are made available to educational and commercial outlets upon request, a spokesperson told me. There can be fees for commercial use of the images, with fees varying based upon intent of the product. Images for educational use are generally free, though that can vary as well.

The spokesperson said that camera restrictions are in place for two reasons. First, the flash can damage the art. Second, this allows the foundation to control the use of images of the gallery. When the collection moves to the Ben Franklin Parkway in 2011, the photo policy may be reassessed, the spokesman said.

Until then, the closest thing you'll get to a family snapshot will be outside the current facility.

The Danger of Historical Ignorance.

2009-09-24T23:39:00.000-04:00

A GERMAN JOURNALIST serving in a fellowship with the Philadelphia Inquirer wrote about the health care debates and the use of Hitler-like imagery in reference to President Obama. The journalist wrote:

"Equating Obama to Hitler and the Democratic health-care plans to Nazi policies shows no understanding of the inconceivable cruelty of Third Reich Germany. The people who invoke the Nazis don't seem to know what they're invoking - or, worse, don't care. This is a reckless insult to the millions of victims of the Holocaust and other Nazi crimes - especially given that, 70 years after the outbreak of World War II, we are rapidly losing those who lived through the horror."

This seems to exemplify the distance between history and people. Those offering Nazi imagery either believe that Obama is also pure evil, or they are ignorant of history.

(On my journalism blog, I questioned whether it was irresponsible of journalists to perpetuate the ignorance).

"Hey look kids! There's Big Ben, and there's Parliament."

2009-09-23T20:27:00.001-04:00

LIKE ANY GOOD PHILADELPHIAN, when visitors arrive in town, I take them to see the Liberty Bell. As far as Philadelphia icons go, the bell is right up there with Geno's and the Rocky steps (otherwise known as the Philadelphia Museum of Art). Beyond those sites, I'm hard-pressed to think of places to show out-of-towners, especially when they only have a few hours here.

Today, I slowed down a bit and watched people's reactions to the bell and surrounding exhibits. Most people walked right past the displays in the foyer leading to the bell. The 4-foot wide black and white photographs and other historical reproductions were largely ignored by the packs of children. A few French-speaking tourists watched a video about freedom and the bell (the park ranger generously offered to show the Japanese-language version of the film but my Japanese friends declined). I noticed that there was nothing interactive in the facility.

The bell itself was at the center of a 360-degree photo op. There were people everywhere - not facing the bell - having their picture taken. The last time I visited the bell (when other visitors were here), there was a park ranger throwing out bell facts and stories. Maybe he was off today.

I'm not sure there was an appreciation for the symbolism of the bell by many of those in attendance. They sure did seem happy though - I bet they tell all of their friends they saw the bell.

At the Art Museum, the guard at the gate welcomed us and told us that photography is fine as long as we don't use the flash. Inside, few people took pictures. I noticed that there were numerous fragile pieces that could be negatively affected by a sudden burst of light (like the skirt on the Degas' statue, left). Guards in every hall kept a close eye on the visitors - a luxury not every semi-public institution could afford.

The guards didn't stop me from getting very close to the paintings, which is something I love to do. I appreciate art on several levels - the superficial, the process itself, and as a piece of history. Paintings, like fiction, are not always realistic but they can represent the mindset of an era (just as fiction can). I love seeing the evolution of styles. Getting inches away from this Pissarro landscape (right) shows me how he used texture in his work.

Like many of the museum visitors, we spent the bulk of our time with the impressionists. My guests didn't get very excited about anything else in the building.

All in all, my day of touring made me wonder whether marketing history and museums to out-of-towners is a worthwhile effort. There seemed to be a sense of obligation - I'm in Philly, I need to see the bell, etc. Instead of actually experiencing the city, people see the stuff they're supposed to see. I'm not sure what the alternative would be - how do you provide random visitors authentic Philly experiences?

I drew the line at Geno's. I feared they might not serve my foreign friends.

The Authenticity of The Alternative Self (Or, How Flogging Fantasies and HistoryMobiles Make People Happy).

2009-09-20T19:44:00.000-04:00

WHERE TO BEGIN? How about this: I'm thinking Renaissance Festivals might be fun.

According to scholars Hyounggon Kim and Tazim Jamal, the Texas Ren Fest is a hotbed of binge-drinking, promiscuity, role-playing, nude partying and posing for cameras (not all at once, please). Regular attendees say that the costumed-environment is a carefree world where everyone is an equal (as long as you are costumed) and judging is left at the gate. The regulars say that at the Ren Fest, they can finally be their authentic selves.

My questions is this: why not be your carefree self every day? Why let people control your desires? If it's legal, go for it. Want to wear a cape to the office? Do it. Want to wear a mask and leather boots? I won't stop you. Express yourself, my friend. The world would be a much more interesting place if everyone did.

But I digress. We're talking about authenticity. I question whether you can be your authentic self (existential or otherwise) simply by donning a costume a few weekends per year. The rationale seems to be that the people are not authentic in their workaday life. At least during the festivals, you can choose your persona. To me, it sounds like you are leaving one social construct for another. But hey, have fun!

My reading of Michael Frisch's "A Shared Authority" was difficult. The dang Google book program lopped off half the chapter. I glean, however, that Frisch was among the crew in charge of educating the masses in 1982 for Philadelphia's "Tercentenary" celebration.

The challenge was to provide information that people would appreciate and learn from. The solution? A HistoryMobile. Yes. Everything with "mobile" on the end is going to be fun.

The ultimate lesson learned, I think, was that people wanted to interact with history. The HistoryMobile brought information to people, creating a street-festival type atmosphere. People learned on their own, without the weight of a museum over them. Did they sacrifice the message through the presentation? You need to find that balance, I suppose.

In the end, who decides what is authentic anyway?

(The images are from Offagna, Italy, during their annual medieval festival).

Life, One Frame At A Time.

2009-09-20T13:22:00.000-04:00

MY MEMORY OPERATES in still frames. I remember the past in a single image, or sometimes as a series of still pictures. No one is ever moving. My memory is stagnant.

I shoot a lot of pictures and they are what I remember from the places I've been, the things I've done. I can remember the context of each and every picture I've ever taken (and I was a professional photographer for a long time).

Looking at those pictures - either the old prints or the digi files - evokes emotions, ideas and, often, a sense of place. Just seeing the images, I recall smells, stories, sounds, expressions. I can remember the exact details - time, names, weather, etc.

I remember feeding Poki and Riri, the two little dogs in the image above, sushi using my chopsticks during the farewell dinner with my family in Japan. I remember drinking sake, my face turning red with every cup. I remember my uncle's eyes welling with tears because his oldest daughter, my cousin, had passed away recently. She would have loved the party.

My problem is that without images, I have a hard time bringing the past to life. I can't imagine the moments, experience the events, or even recall the reason why things occurred. If I didn't take pictures, I can't imagine the event and it fades into nothingness.

I fear that without images, I'll forget everything. Those pictures are my direct link to the past. That's why I always have a camera with me - I'm an unbelievably sentimental person.

I'm interested in why other people care about the past (as well as how they remember it), so I enjoyed the beginning of Rosenzweig and Thelen's The Presence of the Past. But I quickly became frustrated with the book - the different reasons people appreciate their past are just so disparate, and their tales, I feel, verge on psychology rather than history. Their thoughts are often self-centered - legacies of family violence, finding God, drug abuse, lamenting lost innocence, determining what made them the people they are today, etc.

The personal past shapes the individual, more than formal history lessons do. I get that. I understand that people want to know their family background - as much for themselves as to pass that history along to future family members. But I'm curious why we remember what we remember. Why do certain things shape our identity more than others? Is that even a question for historians?

Perhaps I was miffed from the get-go, when on page 57, the authors referred to people of mixed racial backgrounds as "half breeds." Nice. Is it 1950 again? Maybe they want to hold on to 1941, as they wrote on page 123, "One of the most important contributions of professional historians has been to foster the idea of nationalism, and the rise of nationalism has in turn fostered the practice of professional history." Seriously? They're boasting about increasing nationalism? Or were they being wry?

Nationalism is way outdated, especially in a country with 300 million people. When Kanye West is the greatest common denominator among people, the message is clear - we have very little in common with each other. What can be considered "collective history," let alone common knowledge, barely exists.

Rather than harping on the past, I try to live in the present. That's the other reason I take so many pictures. Shooting pictures means appreciating the moment, seeing the beauty in the instant.

That's why I love my dog so much. Mookie (left) runs, sniffs, jumps, barks, spins, dances and fetches with abandon, unencumbered by the events of yesterday. He has habits and he learns stuff, but he's generally uninhibited by the past. His world is right now, a very Zen existence.

I imagine the next step in the concept of public history is figuring out how to make history relevant to a wider audience, and establish commonalities as to what makes for important history.

It's ironic that you have to be visionary in order to make people appreciate history beyond their own past.

There's Only One Version of History: Mine.

2009-09-13T00:03:00.000-04:00

I CAME CLOSE TO NOT existing. Very close.

During World War II, my grandfather served in the Army, fighting in the Philippines. It was hot and swampy, he tells me. He contracted malaria for which he still receives disability checks. But that's not the only point when the family tree was nearly cut before I came along.

My other grandfather - my mother's father - served in the Japanese military (he shot the image above). And he was in the Philippines, roughly about the same time as my American grandfather. My Japanese grandfather was shot in the eye during a battle there, and he nearly died, I'm told.

Sometimes I wonder if my grandfathers were shooting at each other.

And sometimes I wonder where the real history lies. By American standards, Pearl Harbor was a sneak attack, unprompted in a military sense. Sure, there had been trade injunctions and verbal sparring, but crush the Pacific fleet? That was uncalled for.

What about the Japanese perspective? Is that history?

What I gather from Ian Tyrrell's Historians in Public is that some traditional scientific historians are uncomfortable with the democratization of knowledge. They'd prefer that there was a universal idea of what is considered history, and multiculturalism and political correctness be damned. History is what they say it is - with they being Ivory Tower intellectuals (i.e. white American dudes).

I find that shocking.

The discomfort that historians apparently have dealt with since the origin of "History" is more understandable. As Carl Becker says, the facts are malleable. They are subjective and constantly changing as needed. How can an historian, even one of ph.D caliber, claim to know anything for certain when the facts are so easily massaged to suit one's needs?

As education evolved, and social sciences garnered credibility, and political power ignored historians, and mass media rendered them relatively obsolete beyond academia, traditional scientific historians seemed to grasp for appreciation, influence, importance, and indeed, relevance. They complained about the narrowness and fragmentation of the field (while at the same time perpetuating it). They called for specializations to act as bricks that build a collective home.

That's progressive?

There is a purpose to history, I think. It's more than nostalgia or romance. We can study the past, looking for best practices and warning signs. It is the infrastructure of the present, and an outline for the future. While the historical facts themselves may be debatable, so are the moral outcomes. And that's a wonderful thing.

I think this really comes down to how we define history. If everyman is an historian in some fashion, then there are millions, if not billions of histories. There are commonalities, for certain, but there are also different perspectives. That doesn't have to hinder history. It can actually enhance it by making history inclusive, maybe even personal (that's my Japanese grandfather on the far right).

In the end, history belongs to the individual. Nobody knows my history better than I do.

Pictures Steal Your Soul, Turn You to Bronze.

2009-09-11T23:50:00.000-04:00

THIS IS PURELY HYPOTHETICAL. But hear me out.

A semi-public institution that houses rare and delicate material has a problem with people taking pictures inside the building. Their collection, it seems, is light sensitive. Flash could hasten the erosion of their stuff. So they completely ban photography in their space.

But we live in the age of cell phone cameras, TwitPic, Flickr and Facebook. Images are part of our every day life, and we (as a society) snap them constantly.

So, should the institution allow people to take pictures - without flash? Or do you prohibit anyone from taking any images, assuming that many people don't know how to turn their flash off?

My immediate thought is this: you can't control people. Really. You can tell them not to shoot images, and they still will. It's like telling them they can't drive faster than 55 mph. Or don't walk on the grass. Or don't take pictures of the Sistine Chapel.

People will continue to take pictures. So, what can you control?

What about being proactive, creating easily accessible images (with water-stamps) that people can view online or purchase in the gift shop (perhaps in book form)? They could be revenue generators for the institution. People would be able to grab the images online and use them wherever they want but so what? The institution's mission is to serve the public, right?

If people can see the place online, some might ask, "Why would they want to visit?" I'd answer, I've seen the Eiffel Tower a million times on magazine covers and in my friends' vacation snaps. And I still want to go there. In fact, the pics make me want to go even more.

The institution could continue the "no photography" policy (knowing full well that they don't have the staffing to police the place). People will still snap images, for sure, but they may not if they know the online database is there and free.

Ah, free. That could be a catch. This interests me as it relates to the dawn of journalism on the Internet. Back in the early 1990's, people put their content online for free. Now, they can't get anyone to pay for it. This hypothetical institution needs revenue, and images and video could be a potential source.

The reality is that there will always be free images online. So why not be the original source, and brand them in such a way that the images further market the institution?

When it comes to professional photographers or video crews, well, I'm thinking they are a case-by-case kind of thing.

These are simply my preliminary thoughts, without support or data about how other institutions handle photography. But I think the giant loophole will always be the Internet, and the free flow of information that exists there. You can't stop it. So you might as well adopt it and use it to your advantage.

Hello, Wagner. Hello, George.

2009-09-06T19:58:00.000-04:00

I HAVE RETURNED TO STUDENT STATUS after a seven year hiatus. I've enrolled in the continuing education department at Temple University, largely because it's pretty much free (I work at Temple) but also because I'm thinking of pursuing doctoral studies in the near future.

History in general - and public history specifically - appeals to me because I am a journalist. As first-drafters of history, I believe that journalists have a responsibility to get facts straight, not water down the content, and provide the context around the primary event. In our attention deficit, 140-character microblog-loving world, context, I fear, is greatly missing.

I'm interested in bridging traditional academic research and the non-academic world, creating readable scholarship - without the stigma of being overtly commercial.

I'm not sure there is such a thing. But I enjoy researching and writing.

My intellectual bio: suburban kid educated in Delaware public schools; graduated with communications degree from Loyola College in Maryland; hold masters degrees from the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism and the University of Pennsylvania (master of liberal arts). I have been at various times a photojournalist, features writer, crime reporter, magazine writer and videographer. Sometimes multiple things at once.

Now, I teach journalism at Temple and freelance words and images on the side.

I'm very interested in the class project working with the Wagner Free Institute of Science (above and left), if only because it is a great story. A Victorian-era organization that became the first branch of the free library, containing skeletons, bugs, birds, fossils and other fun stuff? In the heart of North Philly? And it's relatively unknown?

Yeah, I'm interested.