There's Only One Thing That Matters.

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.

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?

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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).

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.