The evolution of a weblog

Six years ago, Times Union blogboss Mike Huber asked if I wanted to take my little weblog and bring it to the TU blogfarm.  I think I set a timed record for acceptance.  And on August 25, 2009, my blog joined the other bloggers at the TU portal.

That was over six years ago.

And today, my blog is one of the longest-running independent blogs on; it’s also the record-holder for most consecutive days blogging among any TU blog, staff or independent.

But how has its content evolved?

Over the weekend, I went back and looked at some of the content from those earlier posts.  They were simple, whimsical posts about things like buying a new wristwatch or a list of my favorite television shows.

My blog was simple and quiet.

And then, as time progressed, that blog became an extension of my life.

The blog inspired me to deal with my own mortality, as well as the loss of loved ones.  It became the avenue to the addition of a headstone on a resting place of a long-remembered baby brother, and the updating of a headstone on the grave of a beloved grandmother.

The blog helped me get through a very painful and shaky divorce, as well as the rocky and confusing world of dating.

The blog helped celebrate my successes, and it helped forgive my failures.  There were highs and there were lows, and I never shied away from any of them.

The blog became a cycle of life.  Months like February and August and November were replaced with Trivia Bowl and Altamont and Equinox.

The blog helped me resurrect one fiction story (the Iverhill series) and create a new one (Collarworld).  It helped me have fun and snark (the Amish Mafia reviews) and deal with a cold, uncaring world (I don’t do well when children are injured or killed by madmen).

The blog has encouraged me to step out of my safe zones, to take camera equipment and go beyond pictures of cats or pictures of dinner.  Next thing you know, I’m throwing around phrases like “splitfilm” and “ripscale” and “Kodak Red” and “Leica Green” and the Chief and the Rollei and always italicizing the “f” in Nikon Df.  Words like “Jumbuck” and “Lenten Meal” and “AGFA Bridge” and “Ansco Lake,” words like “Vivaldi’s Pond” and “Aerochrome Falls” and Dream Windows and other creative fires, built from the sparks of individual blog posts.

The blog has made my cars supporting characters in my life, whether it was a 1991 Pontiac nicknamed the “6”, a 2005 Saturn Ion christened “Cardachrome”, or a 2006 Chevrolet Cobalt SS “Blackbird” that was named in a “help-Chuck-determine-a-name” blog poll.

The blog has reflected on the evolution of a currently 52-year-old man as he travels forward in life.  Sometimes each step is positive, sometimes the steps can hurt.  Sometimes the stories aren’t perfect, sometimes they turn out just fine.  But every journey begins with a single step.  Every moment begins with a single tick of the clock.

The blog has celebrated my fellow Times Union community bloggers, to the point where I know that Thursdays are reserved for them.  Mike Huber gave me an opportunity to share my dreams and visions and ideas; it’s only right for me to pass the baton every Thursday and showcase the hard work of my fellow writers and dreamers and visionaries.

Six years in.  This is my blog.  If this were a person, it would need first grade school clothes and a start in Common Core.

Six years in.  I know many of my blog readers, their morning routine involving coffee and breakfast and checking out my latest writings and photos.  I enjoy interacting with my blogreaders.  It’s a new communication, a new friendship path, a new community.  It evolves, just as my life has evolved.

Six years in.  Trivia tournaments.  Photo competitions.  Reflections on the worthiness of my life.  Reflections on those who have received the call to Glory.

I never thought, not in my wildest dreams, that this blog would follow this path.  Not in August of 2009.  Not in November of 2015, either.

And here we are.  You and me.

Every post is a new step.  Every writing is a personal, internal, introspective view.

Do I know what this blog will cover in the future?

Maybe.  And maybe life has the opportunity to surprise me.

You know… that moment at night, just before sleep overtakes, when you think to yourself, “I did not expect that thing to happen today.”  Whatever “that thing” was.  Whatever “that thing” will become.

That’s where this blog has traveled.

And here we are, you and me.  On a chilly late November morning in 2015.

And we’re still here.  And we’re still writing.

And we’re still observing.  This wonderful, crazy, confusing, confounding new world and everything in it.

Thanks for being part of this blog.

Oh, trust me.  This isn’t the end of my blog.

It’s just a milepost, a marker, a chance to look back at six years… and continue for six more, or sixteen more, or as long as the road leads me.

I’m here today, I’ll be here tomorrow, and the next day and the next.

I don’t know what the blog might look like next week, or at the next mile post.

But it will still be a blog.

And it will still be here.

And I will still be here.

And you will still be here.

Count on it like a sunrise.


12 thoughts on “The evolution of a weblog”

  1. Wow – 6 years! And how you post as often as you do is beyond me. I do know this, I am truly grateful for the frequency and consistency of your writing… You inspire me!

    I’m grateful that I have gotten to know you through your words and images. Plus, you were the very first, probably setting a record ( 😉 ) for welcoming a new blogger when I came on board in 2012. That is one gesture of kindness that I shall never forget.

    All good things for you, dear Chuck! Congrats!


  2. Cheers to many more! You have given me morning reading material (I appreciate your early morning posts, especially), wonderful photographs for my home (thanks again), and perspective I sometimes need. I look forward to what’s next!


  3. I’ve laughed with you, cried with you, bragged about you. I’ve worried about you, said a prayer for you, enthused about your photos and writings. I applauded the silks with you, listened to the music selections you posted, and even made a scarf to keep you warm on cold photo shoots. Hey, wait a sec….are you one of my kids??? Nah, just someone I admire and respect very much. Your blog has added enjoyment to my life, and that my friend, is priceless.


  4. I’ve pretty much ceased to put any personal content here until the staff finally gets a raise, which is too bad, because you’ve inspired me what I might put here, if I were to put things here.


  5. Chuck! Happy 6 years! Thank YOU for welcoming me to the TU community and making me feel like family. No one likes being the new kid and you made it easy! 🙂 I love reading your posts they inspire me to write more and I love looking at your photography! You are very inspiring and I look forward to reading more from you when you continue on for another 6 years! You have to keep the record sir. I mean, you blogged for this long 😉 Here is to many more amazing blogs!!! 🙂


  6. Congrats Chuck! And, thank you, I always look forward to your posts & I am thrilled with the frequency of your posts. There are other posters I enjoy that do not post often enough for my tastes – probably letting little things like work, family & their own interests get in the way of my enjoyment of their words – how selfish of them. 🙂
    Glad to know you will be around a while longer, more to look forward to.


  7. And we will be here, looking forward to another day of surprise. Another day to reflect on the many different and interesting topics/ things you bring to the table.

    Thanks for putting in all the time and effort to make peoples’ life like myself more fulfilling. You have succeeded in the past 6 years and I know the next 6 or 16 or 26 years will bring many more thoughts and smiles from your loyal followers.



  8. This blog survived–and thrived–even though it broke certain “rules.” 😉

    I see that a certain other blog has now reached official Jango Davis Zombie Blog status. To be fair, though, it didn’t die a natural death; it was murdered!


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