Category: Our Web, Ourselves.

WTS has finally been switched over to TypePad with only a few posts lost. Which is okay by me. I’m going to reconceive this space anyway.

Here’s the deal. Ever since shutting down Central Booking in February, I’ve been migrating slowly away towards work and projects online and trying to devote myself more to to my writing. I’ve got a book to finish editing in this coming year and want writing, for newspapers, magazines, radio and live performance. I’ve still got some plans for the Virtual Book Tour and I’m going to keep this site going but professionally and energywise, more of myself will be spent over here.

So what to do with Where There’s Smoke? I have no desire to become a celeb blogger (as if I could) or use this site as a piece of an empire. Rather, I think I’m going to flesh out what it has always been, a map of my mind, a sketchpad for ideas, a guide for me to both the scary and bright hallways of my mind. I forget 90% of what my brain whispers back to me in a day. I’d be nice to have some record of it.

The design will most likely look the same but I’ll overhaul the links. What I post will be less professional, more personal. I might have a space to indicate what I’m working on, but other than that, career stays elsewhere. That might make it less interesting to read. So be it then.

Look for changes sometime in the new year. I’ll just be lighting an occassional candle here until then.

Since I’m sort of a high-Middle Ages blogger (Pre-Moveable Type, Post-BlogSpot), I was tickled when my friend Meg posted a video from the early days of Blogger. Back when they were all crammed into a little office by Pac Bell Park here in San Francisco and Paul Bausch had a head of floppy side-parted hair.

It’s a historical document now. Who’s keeping the weblog archives?

After a few days of wondering why my favorite NYC bloggers hadn’t updated, I remembered that big blackout thing.

Duh.

Everyone I know and love is fine, including my folks, 2 aunts and their families and my grandparents out on Long Island. What a relief.

Does anyone really see the difference between Friendster and Tribe.net? I’m just askin’.

I’m not much of a traveler but am a great admirer of people who are. I smiled big then when, doing some research for my proposal, stumbled across Jen Leo’s blog, Written Road, all about the business and pleasures of travel writing, which has just been added to my regular rotation of reads.

Jen has just edited a book of essays by women travel writers called Sand in My Bra which is supposed to be hilarious. Further inspection revealed that Ms. Leo is a Bay Area person who works at Travelers’ Tales here in the city where my friend Tara used to work. Sure enough, they knew each other.

I’m guessing I will run into this Jen person someday and find her a kindred spirit, proving once more that San Francisco is less a city than a hamlet with a very big parade every June.

The Barenaked Ladies, that wacky group of of Canadian musicans has their own blog, which I think is a splendid idea. As blogs increase in profile, popularity and (*gasp*) significance, more famous will feel the need to have their own. Many shouldn’t. I never felt the need to open the craniums of Will Weaton, Adam Curry, or RuPaul and splash around. I’m sure they’re all nice people, but life is short.

On the other hand, I’ve been keeping a flickering eye on “The Ladies” for about 7 years now, when my old college radio buddy Jeremy Hancock brought their first album “Gordon” to be played on our show. I’ve since seem them in concert several times and own most of their records. And while I think their albums are uneven and their sound plays better in clubs than stadiums, they were one of the few bands I listened to that I wanted to know more about as people instead of just rockstars. And when you’re over 15, that’s a rare thing. Put another way, I think the guys from Outkast are geniusness but I’m not all that interested in hanging out with them. They’re too freaky and mystical and well-dressed to seem approachable. “Approachable” is crucial to BNL’s appeal. The medium is perfect for who they are.

Blog away, gentlemen (via Kottke via Meg).

The Web Geek 0lympics have begun. Go Bryan go!

I’ve got two speeches to give today so not much time to blog but allow me to tempt your tummy with Peerscope, some sort of wingding that allows you to share links with people in a pre-defined group. A shiny silver dollar to anyone who can explain how this program will save me time because, as it stands, I don’t get it at all (via Mightygirl).

Ever email for way too long and then run out of energy to blog? Welcome to my life.

Lunch with my friend Meg yesterday was way fun, considering we knew each other and we could talk careers, work, and such but with nothing at stake. She had a few neat ideas for this Virtual Book Tour thing I’m thinking about doing and I learned the gist of the project she’s working on. Sounds exciting. She also gestures as much with her hands as I do which means we were a few animations away from silverware flying every which way.

Last night I went with my dear friends Jo and Robin and some of their homies invited me to see Fighting Gravity at a club in the Village. It was after Shabbat dinner with my parents and a light sleep night the evening before and I was dead tired. A noisy, crowded club was not how I wanted to end the night.

But I motivated, got there and had a great time. I realized I’ve been making a lot of lame excuses for myself lately, that I’m too old for that kind of stuff, that I need more sleep than everyone else because of the stupid apnea, that I can only be so healthy because of the stupid apnea and on and on. I’m really tired of it. I’m a lot healthier and sprightly than I give myself credit for. And the same way I can get out of bed in the morning and not listen to the little devil voices that tell me to get back in, I can silence the one’s that tell me I should always be in bed by 11 on a Saturday night.

Yes, I’m turning 30 this summer but I figure I can let that get to me or not. And if I have fun leaping in place to loud, silly music once in a while, then it seems pretty stupid to me to not do that because it’s slightly more inconvienent than reading a book. So next time I will try. Again. Because, though it might not feel like it at the time, it always seems worth it afterward.

It is my deepest hope that as online social networks become more purvasive, as the web becomes a means by which strangers may come together and form community, that more of this does not happen. Or that we develop an infastructure, either technical or cultural to prevent it as much as we can.

How perfectly horrible this story is (via Consolation Champs).