Change is inevitable. There are big, sweeping changes: wedding days, birthdays, death days, and the like. But most change is incremental. Evolution takes time. Yesterday’s daydream is next month’s thought is next year’s action. Some moves warrant mulling and consideration, a thorough examination from all angles. There are certain ideas that demand ratification from a committee of friends and family who love you enough to tell you you’re being a damned fool. The gravity of some desires dictates that you pry them open and poke around their guts and knock on their bones until you understand how the entire organism works. And eventually, when a desire or a dream is thought about long enough, the dreamer becomes what he thinks about. It’s amazing. It’s inspiring. It’s overwhelming. And it takes time.
The pace of movement is glacial, but one day, in a tsunami of motion and emotion, change crashes through your roof.
My work situation changed recently. My position had pivoted to be less creative and more sales. Suddenly I had goals and quotas and I was responsible for setting a strategy and making contacts. My marching orders were altered. I’m still trying to figure out if this were a slow change or fast one, but it came without asking if I understood. Mind you, the closest thing I have to sales experience is convincing a small business owner to buy an ad in a high school newspaper. Granted to some degree everyone’s in sales, but I’m by no means a salesman. I’m not that aggressive.
After much thought and conversation with Liz, I asked to have my hours and my pay halved. I explained that I be happy to be a part-time salesman so I could use the rest of my work week to write. Gracefully, my employer obliged. I owe him for that.
I also owe Liz for her patience and grace during this time of change. We had to cut back on some expenses and we spend much more time at home now, but she’s been a trooper through and through. I’m a lucky man.
This new working arrangement has been in place for the last month, and it’s been a life-changer. Each day, I’m a little closer to finishing my novel, and I’ve picked up freelance work to bring in some cash. The freelancing brings us to the structural changes to this site.
I’ve you’ve been around a while, you’ll notice that about half of the content that used to be here is gone. It left town like a sailor called to battle in the dead of night. And you didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. Sorry about that, but it had to be done.
I needed to separate church and state, so to speak. I needed to build a place where it was easier for Creative Directors and business owners—people who might pay me to write—to see what I can do. I had to create a spot free from my opinions and dog pics and tales of overindulging in food and drink. I had to make an inviting electronic storefront to sell my wordy wares. So I moved the best of the work that lived here to my new online portfolio. You should check it out—see your old friends; make new ones.
But fret not, Good Reader, your loss is your gain. Smoking Monkey isn’t going anywhere. In fact, it’s getting leaner and meaner, like a genetically-engineered super Smoking Monkey. Like Caesar from Planet of the Apes. For starters, I’ve rearranged the layout for easier navigation, and I’ve trimmed some fat content-wise. The biggest change is that of attitude, of spirit. This space used to serve as portfolio and blog, so, conceivably, people could have hired me out from here (Not that they ever did). But since this site is now all play and no work, I can operate a little more loosely. Subject matter and delivery can be a little more free. I’m not going to be dropping a million f-bombs or writing erotica or anything, but the tone of the posts are likely to shift toward the irreverent and the silly. Office Tom doesn’t write here anymore. Management replaced him with Street Tom. Give him a chance. I think you’ll like him.
You can’t stop change, whether it be to this website, to your marriage, to your workplace, to your friendships, to your body, to your mind, to your city, to your country. That’s not to say you exert no influence, but some things are out of your hands. The world quakes without our permission. There’s nothing you can do. So put on something nice and enjoy the ride.
Smoking Monkey 