Most of my online time and effort these days is focused on my new responsibilities as editor-in-chief of Alpinist magazine. Which is to say I don’t update this blog nearly as often as I did before I started working for the magazine in 2016.
I’m a typical ColoRAD-o boy: Climber, Kayaker, Snowboarder/Skier, Backpacker. Growing up, I fly fished with my dad and got my hunter’s safety card, but I no longer hunt or fish. My wife is pretty much a vegan and I enjoy other things more, so why kill? In my teens I regularly sacrificed my body to skateboarding, knocking my teeth loose more than once. Feels good. Later on I found similar pleasures in climbing. Two heart surgeries at 32 and 39 slowed me down a bit.
My understanding of life is heavily influenced by gravity, air, water, fire, stone, and natural predators. I grew up with a close relationship to the mountains, and for that I feel very fortunate. Experiencing the physics that govern the existence of this planet in a first-hand way is pretty much what gets me going in the morning.
Truth be told, I’m a quivering coward who is attracted to things that terrify him. Posting in this blog terrifies me. In today’s culture, publishing feels scarier than any risks I take in the mountains. If something isn’t at least a little bit scary, then where is the opportunity for growth? I’m not saying I’m brave all the time, only that I try to be.
Yes, I’m weird. I’m trying to understand that, too.
Growing up, I considered myself a “fast learner.” It took me most of my life to figure out that I’m actually a rather slow learner. Wish I’d learned that faster, because I would have learned a lot more. I’m sure it’s not related to the concussions I suffered while learning tricks on my ‘boards… I can’t remember where I was going with that.
Anyway, I tend to fit the profile of a white American male circling 40; that is to say, straddling the gap between Generation X and the Millennials, never fully belonging to either one. The relevancy of my X-ennial generation faded almost as soon as we graduated college. Fuck. Hate when that happens. Might be for the best anyway, because my consciousness was guided by all that self-loathing grunge and metal music that was blaring on MTV back in the day. (I mean, do you even have anything valid to say if you haven’t gone to rehab?! Note: I haven’t gone to rehab. Maybe I should. Kidding. Am I?) As a journalist, my pessimism and self-loathing runs especially deep. If I’m representative of America’s recent past, it’s probably for the best that the can-do-anything Millennials quickly stole the show, even though I wish we could just call each other on the goddamn phone once in a while instead of texting first to make sure it’s OK. And I regret that social media algorithms and metrics have become so integral to my job and social life, and so much of our economy, politics and (mis)education, and…civilization. Fuck Zuckerberg.
And while I’m at it, for the record, fuck Trump and his ilk. Why do people believe his Twitter feed over, like, 97% of scientists and journalists who actually care about the truth beyond their own self-interest? I do believe Trump’s rants, actually—not in the literal way but in how they reveal his true character. Read between the lines. Observe patterns. Duh. Greed, hate, ignorance, fear—you’d think we’d see through those strategies of divisiveness by now. Jeezus. (Face palm.)
If you’re still reading this, I’ve either done a good job keeping this interesting, or you’re phishing or looking for a way to cancel me for something I once said when I was trying to amuse my friends at a junior high sock hop.
If it’s the first, thanks for giving me the time.
If you want to see more from me in the future, please "Like" the Derek Franz page on Facebook or follow me on Instagram (@dstorm8000). Better yet, support our mission at Alpinist magazine! Peace.