This little speck in the blogging universe has been my home for over a thousand days. During that period, my enthusiasm for this enterprise has not diminished, even if occasionally — like the last couple of months — the available time that I’ve had to dedicate to it, has. When I started the blog, I was unemployed. There was plenty of free time left over for posting after all those resumes were mailed out. Today, a job I’m very thankful for takes a lot of my energy and focus. As it should be. I’d much rather be an occasional blogger, than a frequent one facing foreclosure.
From the window that faces the Hudson, on this home saved by grace, I have a sliver of an opening to the New York City skyline. As I write this, the fireworks have just begun. Luckily, one of the Macy’s barges is sitting on the river, directly in front of us. My five and a-half year old son is more excited about the spectacle than I remember him on years past. I loose count of the “Wows” after the first few minutes. Behind the exploding shells — and in direct competition with them — sits a day-old new moon, a majestic red that will soon fade in the haze.
I never picked Independence Day as the day to start the blog. It was a coincidence, but I appreciate the symbolism. I value the liberty to write about or post anything here. Freedom of expression is a big turn on. It is what so many people come in search of, when they come to America. The idea that you can be who you are and say what you mean, whether from a street corner or a humble blog.
Two years ago today, on Independence Day, I wrote my first post for this blog. Against the firework-lit Manhattan sky, Cubiyanqui came to be.
This blog has been, and continues to be, a challenge, satisfying work and a great source of joy and pride. Also a perfect channel “to share my creative efforts and other obsessions with my friends and the rest of the world.”
In this time I’ve posted 781 times on 109 different categories with 1,281 tags. Through today, the site has had a total of 23,335 visitors from as far away as Viet Nam and South Africa.
Of the many comments those visitors have left, one hateful diatribe stands out — and I mean hateful — written in response to a political article I posted. Someone didn’t agree with a constitutionally-protected progressive point of view I expressed. The comment, the only one of it’s kind I ever got, was full of racist, xenophobic words, also wishing me a painful death from a certain disease. I deleted it. Sent it to the trash, where that stuff belongs.
The comment that stands in stark contrast to that one was posted in response to an essay I wrote about missing my Dad on his birthday. It was from someone who was missing their own Dad and was searching the internet for a little relief from the ache. It was a brief human connection, the kind possible between reader and writer, born out of a common loss and the shared blessing of having known someone exceptional. That comment is the one I treasure today, on this second anniversary.
Thanks for you support over the last 2 years. I look forward to your next visit.