It stinks going to CrunchNotes lately

I’m one of those guys who really appreciates folks who shoot from the hip and share what they feel, especially in the face of lots of heat. That’s one of the reasons why I follow many of the writers I do on the Web, including Michael Arrington and his blog CrunchNotes.

But his latest post just won’t go away. It’s been sitting as his latest now for over a week and the longer it sits there, without correction, the further it spreads mis-information.

What is that mis-information? Well it’s one thing to dislike Shelley Powers and to back it up with facts, and even feelings.

It’s another thing to spread a falsehood, which is what the post in question does. Shelley Powers, unequivocally, will criticize anyone, regardless of sex or station. She really puts her self on the line by speaking truth to power day in and day out.

Questioning dogma is a lonely place to be sometimes.

How this happened is a mystery really.

There was an argument that erupted over the use of an image in an online video, produced by a band.

You can read about the controversy at Wired.

There was some interesting discussion about copyright, much that resembling that which followed other similar controversies in the past.

Conversation that is again springing up about Fox helping itself to someone’s Flickr pictures.

I simply feel that without a lawsuit, contrary to the opinions of folks I respect – because of lack of clarity – no one knows who was in the right and who was in the wrong.

During arguments like this, where facts are few and opinions are many, where clarity is hard to find, I tend to absorb all view points, to weigh my own opinion. This was a great opportunity for that.

That is, until it ran off the rails at at Mathew Ingrams’s blog. Normally a place, like Shelley’s, for some of the best discussion about social media and the Web.

Rogers Cadenhead said that Shelley is due an apology – I agree.

Jeneane Sessum looked at this as a bigger, cultural issue with the blogosphere:

…the larger LARGER problem for the blogosphere and twitterspehere is that a culture is developing — thanks in part to time-saving, fragment-tossing platforms like twitter, that by design silence dissenting voices — we have all become easy targets for extinction, the casualties of casual dismissal.

THAT’s what bothered me about this situation, about what Mike said to Shelley, about what Mike and others said about Lane without asking Lane anything, and STILL DOES bother me.

The “you’re just” mantra is getting way out of hand.

It is cultish and thought canceling.

The irony is that my attraction to ‘shoot from the hip’ opinions is part of the problem.

When I look around me, it seems more and more that context or historical background doesn’t matter – all that matters is the headline, the blurb, and the attention driving influence of the one sharing it.

Increasingly it seems our culture encourages ‘winning it all costs’ behavior – no matter the right and wrong.

And I guess, at Christmas time especially, these things make me sad.

Looking forward to Christmas

It’s hard to write about looking forward to something like Christmas with joy when you know fellow friends and travelers are dealing with sorrow.

Shelley Powers last week summarized some of the tragedies that took place in the online community recently. Of particular note to me was the passing of Anita Rowland, who had been fighting cancer since 2003. Her husband put up a memorial post on his blog.

Jeneane Sessum: For Anita

GarretVreeland One of our own, Anita Rowland, has passed away

Bill Humphries: Anita Rowland

Frank Paynter: Last Dance: Anita Rowland, Rest in Peace

Frank Paynter’s interview with Anita Rowland in 2002: Settled in Seattle… the Anita Rowland Interview

Anita’s family is in my thoughts and prayers.

This will be a Christmas that will best be described as bittersweet for me. Such tremendous ups and downs.

With so much churn in my life, I know I am blessed to look at Emma and be filled with hope.

She is a true blue toddler now. She can communicate very clear what she wants, what she loves, and what she doesn’t care for all that much. That means that Christmas day will be something to behold.

Her Momom will be with her. Laughing, joking, and singing all the way.

As Anita will be with her loved ones.

In Passing: Quiet Riot’s Kevin DuBrow dead at 52

Metafilter: cum on feel the noizQuiet Riot’s Kevin DuBrow dead at 52.

It was Quiet Riot on Solid Gold that introduced me (well.. re-introduced me) to Metal and Hard Rock. His MySpace page is filling up with condolences.

I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that Quiet Riot deserves the evolutionary credit for 80s Metal, from Ozzy’s 80s success, to Guns N’ Roses.

Thank you Kevin DuBrow.

NYTimes: Kevin DuBrow, the Leader of Quiet Riot, Dies at 52

LATimes: Singer for 1980s heavy-metal giant Quiet Riot dies

Blabbermouth: Classic QUIET RIOT Broadcast To Re-Air Today – Nov. 27, 2007

Thanksgiving 2007

It’s been a challenging year. The herniated disk (I’m still suffering with it). The Comcast.net reenginerring and relaunch effort (we launched successfully and they promoted me the same day Mom was diagnosed with cancer). Handling various stability issues with Philly Future that nearly killed the site. Being with Mom as she ended up in the hospital more and more (look on the archives here – a pattern emerged from back in 2005). Learning to be a dad.

So while it’s been a struggle – I have much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving and every day.

This is my last post on Mom for a while. I mentioned I would share some pictures and Richelle did prepare a terrific slideshow for her memorial service, but I think this recent one says it all.

I Fooled Myself

In the past, I fooled myself into thinking I could not miss what I did not have.

I grew up without a father.

Looking at many I grew up with, sometimes I thought I had it better. I had quite a few friends with dad issues that haunt them to this day.

But now, upon reflection, it feels like I’ve simultaneously lost a Mom and a Dad.

What a strange thing to write. I must be entering the so called ‘anger’ phase.

If only life were that sequential, I could expect the emotions to wash over me, to pass me by on my way towards ‘acceptance’.

But our lives aren’t really like that are they? They happen, in a cosmic kinda level, at something resembling all at once, and our minds attempt to give it order and structure, if there are such things, they are beyond our current understanding.

All I know is that Mom did exist, and she left a legacy in me, in her other sons. Her grandchildren and great grandchildren.

I’m rambling on my blog. Not like me at all. I’m trying to reach for something in writing I can’t quite get to yet. And my guitar is failing me on some level.

So good night folks.

Halloween Pictures

It may have been the day before Mom’s funeral, but she wouldn’t have wanted us, especially Emma, from having some holiday fun. We may have been harried making arrangements for that Thursday, but we had a good time. I feel particularly blessed to live where we live – a true blue old fashioned Philly neighborhood. It’s a great place for Halloween.

Want to learn a bit about the work I do?

I’m 2/3rds of the way through reading Scott Rosenberg’s “Dreaming In Code” and wanted to share with you my enthusiasm for the book – I’ll be buying it as a gift for a few folks this year.

Back to work

Getting back to work after Mom passing away is a weird and strange. I’m still busy reconciling everything in my head and heart.

Funerals absorb so much of your time that you don’t get a chance to think about things until after they pass.

I’ll share some pictures later, but one thing that became apparent from the slideshow that Richelle put together was that she was, most likely, happier now than she had ever been in her entire life.

Ya know, there are two stereotypes of old people who have had extreme levels of tragedy and struggle to deal with in their lives.

One, the wizened old soul who rose above such tribulations and became a font of information and history.

The other, the poisoned heart, who can no longer see the good in much anything, and rails against the unjust nature of our world – especially to him or herself.

Mom grew into someone resembling neither of these.

Instead, as she aged, she became more childlike with each passing day. When I say this I don’t mean unknowledgable – no I mean more aware of wonder. Of laughter. Of surprise. Of the importance of deep hugs and never staying angry and unreconciled. And of never saying goodbye, but of saying see you later and I love you.

It doesn’t seem fair that it took so long to get to this place, and then to have her snatched away.

But at least she did get to this place. That I was there to witness it. And I will be there to share it with my daughter (I hope).

Mom passed on Saturday at 3 in the afternoon

Mom was in the hospital with what was thought to be congenital heart failure. By Wednesday she was looking good, but the swelling in her right arm had not gone down. She and I talked about this latest trip to the hospital, just a few days after the last, but that everything should be alright. Her spirits were good.

On Friday I spoke to a doctor who told me it was a blood clot in her right arm that was the trouble. Blood thinners should help, but they wanted to be conservative since her platelets were low as a consequence of her chemo.

I called to check on Mom Saturday around 1 PM and heard that she was in ICU.

This was a shock. While she has issues she was dealing with, her Doctor sounded confident with me on Friday.

I ran to ICU and got there around 2PM.

It turns out, around 6AM Mom was having difficulty breathing, they did a CAT scan and found another blood clot, this one in her right lung. They asked her if it was okay to temporarily be intubated. Mom has been in this situation before, and so she said yes.

By the time I arrived, Mom was looking like she had on other ICU trips, drugged, but stable. I held her hand as the doctor on staff told me what they would like to proceed with. Mom became agitated, possibly hearing me and the doctor discuss these things, possibly just because she was snapping out of her medication. They gave her morphine (which they had done countless times before on other trips to ICU) and she calmed down. The doctor and I talked for around 2 more minutes before her stats went haywire and alarms started ringing. I remember one doctor asking this doctor if she needed help and she said yes, get everyone. Someone pulled me away and asked me to go to the waiting room.

I was there for 10-15 minutes when they called me. They told me there was no heart beat, that they were keeping her alive at that point with CPR. They asked if I wanted to be in the room with her.

Within seconds of my arriving one doctor said he felt a faint pulse and I grabbed mom’s feet and demanded to her that she stay. The staff worked for 15 or so more minutes, with me present, but she was gone.

A nurse told me it was like she had waited for me to arrive, and then decided to let go.

I’m coming out of the daze of the day and am waking up with a million questions and what-ifs. I don’t know how many of them are coming from my head, and how many from my heart.

Thank you everyone for your support, your thoughts and prayers.