First Post, Last Post
This blog has come full circle, as the Patriarch Diaries project, after more than ten years, successfully concluded on the 18th of August 2024.
The resulting book, in addition to containing all the essays found here, also features tales of growing up without WiFi or 24-hour TV, and the stories, legends and boring genealogy of whatever ancestors I could uncover. Consequently, the finished product comes in at 400 pages and weighs about four pounds. Each book is so heavy I am going to have to mail them one at a time.
The book, which was always the reason for this blog, had its genesis around the time my first grandchild was born, some 14 years ago. I recall writing successive prefaces to the imagined tome before hitting on the idea of a blog, which also took a few detours before it finally took root here.
In searching for a way to wind up this blog, I ran across the first post, written for the initial iteration of The Patriarch Diaries blog, back on the 28th of April 2014. It was never published, so now is a good time (indeed, the only time) to present it to you, as a convenient bookend to this project:
First Post
There are a number of indicators that you are getting older—the shocking realization that your doctor is younger than you, the apprehension that “kids today” are not quite up to scratch, the painful reminder that you can no longer do a hand-stand—but none are quite as defining as looking at an exhibit in a museum and recognizing an item on display as something you once owned.
And I’m not talking about an IT museum—where anyone in their 20s will find obsolete items they bought when they were teenagers—I mean real museums, featuring exhibits from the 1800s or earlier. This is where you might visit the recreation of a blacksmith’s shop and find yourself thinking, “My dad had a set of tongs just like that; I used to play them when I was a kid!” while the younger people around you have to read the information card to find out what it is.
That, my friends, is when you know you are old.
A glass-half-full type of person will simply leave it there and, perhaps, start shopping for rocking chairs instead of patio furniture or decide a big, comfy sweater looks more suitable than a button-down collar shirt. Anyone with an ounce of optimism, however, shouldn’t miss the fact that being old is not what it used to be (I consider myself still in my prime even though I have grandchildren) and that the world we grew up in is as far removed from our grandchildren (hell, even our children) as the horse-and-buggy days and, to the child with any imagination, just as mysterious and fascinating.
It is with the previous points in mind that I write these essays, in the hope that I can make them interesting enough that my children and grandchildren will find them informative—and/or amusing and/or engaging—reading in years to come.
Last Post
This blog has served its purpose in giving me the necessary kick up the backside to get moving on The Patriarch Diaries, as well as providing about a third of the material.
With the book complete, there is no need to add more posts to this blog because, if I did, I would try to think of a way to shoehorn them into the now-finished product, and I don’t want to temp myself.
And so, I will no longer update this blog, though I will leave the content here for the foreseeable future.
To finalize the project, I will have five copies of the book printed—one for me, one for each grandchild, and one for their father so he can judge when it might be appropriate to give his kids their copies—and that will be the end of it.
Thanks for reading, and for being part of The Patriarch Diaries.