
In the year 2000, when internet dating was getting warmed up, I met a first date, a blind except-for-pictures date, at a bar on the Upper East Side. At that time, that elite area in New York City was unfamiliar to me. I had only been there one other time to see a therapist after moving to the city from Arkansas after college. I don’t remember her therapy being especially helpful, but I do remember being in awe of her apartment of multiple rooms in an immaculate building guarded by a doorman in uniform. I usually had $1 in my pocket to buy a slice of pizza for dinner, so meeting this date in that area already had me gassy with anxiety.
Turns out we were not a match, gas aside, but the date was cordial and friendly, with an easy conversation which led to our discussing our writing passions. I told him about the short story I wrote in a creative writing class at the New School, and he, more accomplished, shared that he had recently started writing something called a “blog” that he was really enjoying. As those were the days of cell phones primarily making calls, he wrote down the http:// web address on a bar napkin for me to check out later once I was at a computer. “I just write about life,” he said, smiling, sliding the napkin across the dark wood to me. Of course, my immediate thought was, I hope he isn’t going to write about me or this date! We cannot help but be the stars of our own movies.
Gratefully, I did not show up in his personal blog, but I was fascinated reading it. He was an excellent and funny writer, and I really enjoyed his antics. Whenever I was on the computer, usually checking e-mail or reading Suck.com, I made it a point to read his entries, and not just to see if I would happen to make a random appearance, “The date that was not.” No, I continued to read his work because he was sharing more than just his life, where he went to have dinner. He also wrote his reflections about living life. Very personally and introspectively, he wrote about living his life’s questions daily, echoing the book “Letters to a Young Poet” by Rainer Maria Rilke that my best friend, Leonardo, had given me. Incredibly inspired, I decided that if a random guy I met on an internet date could “blog,” I could blog, too, calling it, “Where the Deer and the Antelope Play,” my Arkansan way of saying this blog would be my own little ‘home, home on the’ web.
And so for most of my adult life, I’ve been writing and writing into the digital black hole of the internet. Though my blog has gotten me into trouble once or twice, caused some challenging conversations, and has been mostly forgotten (I like to think, swept up in a tide of an over-saturation of information lapping at every toe), this little blog of mine has been a lifeline for me, personally, these past 25 years. It’s allowed me to yell into the void, “Don’t go to war!” on multiple occasions, and talk out my questions, faith, and perspective. And maybe that’s all my blog is meant to be, an invaluable “release valve” for me (I highly recommend it.)
“Were the Deer and the Antelope to Play” by me is by no means perfect. There’s no specific purpose to it, nor does it attempt to do anything. (Other than say, NO WAR.) There are spelling errors and grammar issues, especially in the earliest posts. And even I get annoyed by some of my naiveté and self-righteousness. Nevertheless, my blog is grace-filled and well-intentioned, and it serves as a witness of my life living life’s questions. If you read it, thank you. I’d love to hear why!
While a lot has happened since my first post in 2000, at my core, I remain a Gen-X poet for peace writing protest poetry. And I’m also still that idealistic, therefore depressive, seeker needing to share my thoughts about human life in modernity. However, one thing age has taught me, and you will see more of in my writing (hopefully), is my fresh belief that witnessing is much more powerful than preaching. I can’t tell you what to do, what to believe, or give you advice. I’m barely getting through it myself. But I can tell you what I see. And if it nudges your perspective, that’s really cool.
Chad, many thanks for your updates and for sharing with us a glimpse into your interesting life. I wrote a blog for several years back in the day when blogs where a new thing, but like all things new, they have become ubiquitous and all over the place. It's been interesting to watch "communication" transition from analog to digital and I'm encouraged to see you taking an active part. Carry on, sir, and good luck.