A Return To Form

Why I took the summer off from publishing the newsletter.

View from a favorite pull-off on Highway 1 south towards Big Sur.

I did not have the Summer that I thought I was going to. It’s not that I had grand expectations either. I learned many years ago to temper expectations, both of people and events. In doing so there’s much less chance of being disappointed, though sometimes it’s unavoidable.

The season got off to a pleasant enough start with the grand opening of the business I co-founded in Nashville and I was able to enjoy that for about a week or so before shit(once again) hit the fan. I’m not going to go into detail here because quite frankly I’m tired of telling the story and rehashing the minutia of the whole thing just gets my blood up. Bottom line, the business that was the driving force behind Megan and I moving to Nashville is not operating in the beautiful space I put all my energy into for the past two years. There have been moments where it resembles what I envisioned, but for reasons far beyond my control, the complete experience at One Garage as I conceived it is delayed indefinitely. “Delayed indefinitely”, what a crushing turn of phrase. Nothing more than an attempt to soften the blow of the reality that whatever you’d planned is not happening. It leaves a glimmer of hope where it is ultimately better to close the door and move forward.

So, that’s what my partners and I have done, moved forward. On paper the concept isn’t all that different, the space still looks fantastic and our F&B partner next door is doing very well, which of course I’m grateful for. However, the corner we were painted into forced us to make decisions I know are off-brand for myself and therefore, for the business as well. I kept quiet about One Garage while it was being built for this exact reason. I wanted to be damn sure that if I was going to leverage whatever juice my name carries in the automotive and luxury lifestyle communities, it was going to be for a business that I could be unequivocally proud of. For a brief moment it was within reach, then quickly snatched from our grasp. It’s hard to come back from that, but I’ve never been one to throw my hands up and call it a day. I tend to just shelve things and come back to them when the time is right.

So, Megan and I hit the road with dog and baby in tow at the end of June, seeking some restorative time in New England that would hopefully yield some useful perspective to help determine a direction at home. It did not.

A week into what was supposed to be a month of visiting friends and family it was clear that the timing of this trip was not right. A few days later we were back on the road headed south Nashville. Looking back on it, the check engine light that came on only an hour into our drive up north was probably about as clear of a warning sign as you could get. That being said, the Range has been running smooth as can be since getting the soot clogged throttle body replaced (under warranty, thankfully) after driving from Nashville to Westport, CT. The obvious lesson here that applies to life as well as vehicles, is to keep up with routine maintenance and not let things build up to the point where there’s a bottleneck that creates a major issue. For the record, I think it’s insane that Land Rover didn’t put a way to check the BluDef level in their diesel vehicles. Instead a notice just pops up when you have about 3 days left to refill, depending on how you drive. I do however find it fitting for a British vehicle to offer little in the way of system checks that could prevent a major issue. It just keeps everything bottled up inside with a stiff upper lip, until of course it can’t because that’s not a long term solution. Then you’re stuck figuring out how to fix things on the fly, which usually leads to a teachable moment, but sucks nonetheless.

Packed to the gills and blissfully unaware of what’s to come.

Once we were back to Nashville the reality of settling into the heart of summer in the sweltering South hit hard. There is a-lot to like about living in Nashville(enough that I’ll soon publish a standalone newsletter on that very subject) but being there in July and August isn’t part of that list. Anyone who says otherwise is lying or a masochist. There is no beating the heat, it wins every day. The humidity sucks the life out of you, there’s not enough linen and unsweetened black iced tea to forge ahead.

If you’re like me and you like spending the majority of your time outside, it’s especially depressing. You can get up before dawn and it’s “not great”. You can wait until after the sun goes down and it’s also “not great”. I didn’t grow up with A/C, just lots of windows and box fans to put in them at night. A/C isn’t a solution, it’s a band-aid. I don’t want to sit inside all damn day hiding from the weather, but if you’re in a landlocked state in the South during summer, that’s what you do.

Thankfully, I have the most amazing little girl to hang out with(in addition to Megan and our Cavapoo, Midge), and she filled the dog days of summer with all light and laughter that a 6 month old can bring. When Cordelia was born I thought I’d frequently be writing about fatherhood, but as it turns out I feel more protective of my thoughts now as they relate to her and I’m inclined to keep them private. This may change, I’m certainly open to it, but presently I’m happy to keep all the moments and the lessons learned from them within our little family.

One thing I am happy to volunteer is that having a kid really changes your both your perception of time and the way you value it. I’d already been feeling this prior to my 8 days away from home in August for Monterey Car Week, but the change in personality that occurs in a baby in that span cannot be overstated. I used to knock out 10-14 day trips multiple times a year, but now I can’t imagine being away for more than a week, maybe once or twice a year. The time is too precious, especially when you have your first kid later in life. I’m not quite in “Old Dads” territory, but I’ve done the math that one does when one has a kid and there’s some inherent sadness I feel around not getting started earlier if I’m honest.

Nobody asked why I took the summer off from publishing on Substack, but like any good writer, I excel at answering questions nobody asked. Having read all of the above, if it is still not clear, I didn’t publish anything because I didn’t prioritize doing so. I had the time and the content, but for the past 3 months I didn’t care enough to jot anything down and hit publish. That’s the truth of the matter and I’m putting that out there for no other reason than to hold myself more accountable going forward. I feel my best when I create more than I consume, we all should. Catching up with some of my peers and mentors while in Monterey reminded me of this. Since then I’ve been more intentional about engaging with their work and the work of many who drew me to into the various subcultures that color my world.

The drive from Monterey back to Los Angeles allowed my mind to wander in a way that it had not in a long time. One of the takeaways from that was how for the majority of my career as a writer the pressure to create has been self imposed. I’ve had my fair share of assignments over the years, but for the most part it’s been up to me to pull inspiration from wherever and turn it into something. The former carries a pressure to deliver on a timeline, the latter a pressure to deliver a level of quality set by yourself. Take a wild guess which is tougher.

I’ve tried a number of different ways to make posting on Substack feel like there’s a deadline I must adhere to. Ultimately, they haven’t worked. I’m my own boss, that’s whole point of this thing right? I feel some level of responsibility to my paying subscribers of course, but with the annual merch gifts(coming this holiday season to a mailbox near you) I’d say paid subscribers get the better end of the bargain. Besides, if anyone ever felt like they weren’t getting good value out of their paid subscription, I’d be more than happy to issue them a full refund, no questions asked.

Ultimately, the best motivation to keep publishing is the work of my peers. There’s nothing quite as inspiring to me as reading or viewing great work in a medium where I know I’m proficient. Recent stories by Brooks Rietz, Michael Williams, Yolanda Edwards and Jason Diamond all reminded me what I enjoy about writing, if not writing specifically for this platform. There’s an honesty and vulnerability found in the best writing on Substack, but some degree of education and entertainment as well. That’s what I came here for in the first place, but earlier this year I got completely sucked into reading newsletters that had no balance, they were just, bleak. My world view suffered, my attitude suffered and the quality of my work suffered. I was pulled out of this funk by getting a pitch accepted by wonderful team at The Rake and having the chance to deeply research a piece I’ve been passionate about for years. I don’t want to spoil the story as Issue 101 “The Los Angeles Issue” is available now, but I will say it involves classic cars, movie stars, and Mulholland Drive. Doing that piece got me fired up about “professional writing” again, while also reminding me that this, publishing a newsletter, is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be exercise to keep the writing muscles from atrophying and if it makes a buck, great. If not, whatever! I’ve had enough of being advised to monetize all my interests.

So, here we are, back in the saddle and writing from a hotel room like the good ‘ol days. No further explaining to be done, justifications to be put forth or promises to be made. I’m getting back to my roots and planning to have a good time while I’m at it. I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

-AM