Ridicule. ( rid·i·cule/ˈridiˌkyo͞ol/) The subjection of someone or something to mockery and derision.
Yes, ridicule. I expect it. To those who will mock, I respond, “Well deserved, but it is not to you that I owe an explanation.” Owed that explanation is my conscience and my wife. Hope you’re both reading.
I interpret “why” as relating to two things: (1) cubing and (2) documenting it.
Frankly, I needed a challenge. I always need challenges. I get bored, lethargic, and downright unpleasant when I’m without a new hobby or challenge. That’s not to say that I’d be idle without this. With a demanding job, a fantastically awesome wife and two ridiculously cool kids at home, a food/cooking passion, a photography obsession, and a number of other hobbies, I have freakishly little spare time for lollygagging. But being busy and being challenged are entirely different beasts. So, learning to solving the cube — and now trying to improve those solve times — is a welcome challenge. Besides, it gives my hands something to do other than wildly and jealously gesticulating while watching the Property Brothers and Kitchen Cousins do their thing.
I also struggle with the fact that my competitiveness (the self-competitive variety) is eclipsed only by my lack of athleticism. Toward what endeavor does an oddly shaped aerobically-challenged man pour his self-improvement drive when strapping on running shoes simply isn’t an option? Indoor sport like speed stacking, Super Mario Cart, and Portal, I suppose. Or cubing. This allows me to speak the lingo of athletes — personal bests, stretching, technique, practice, recovery, diet — without breaking a sweat.
Why document it?
Now this is a better question. Cubing is easy. It requires little equipment, little space, and little time. You do it in the backgound. Documenting it is another story. Webcams, movie editors, blog sites, and time — lots and lots of time.
Here, I’m less apologetic. I tremendously enjoy writing and have often dreamed of being a novelist. Law school, of course, is not the natural path to a Pulitzer, and legal writing is often dry and in want of style. The writer in me needs an outlet, and this is that. The same can be said of the technophile in me. I love technology. I love the web. I love media. I love manipulating, creating, mashing it all together. I’ve build websites for fun. I’ve built others’ blogs for the challenge of it. So, having a digital playground of my own just makes sense.
Time, that rarest of commodities, does militate against this endeavor. When I have little time for R&R and less time than I’d like with the kids, how can I justify this? Well, besides the fact that it will help keep me sane (if only until my next hobby-obsession arises), I will say that blogging takes less time for me than you’d imagine. This second narrative and my inaugural post are long ones, to be sure. And they did take some time to think about and write — much of that while listening to droning conference calls to which I probably should have never been invited in the first instance. But from here on out, posting the occasional thought, trick, video, accomplishment, what-have-you — that will take little time.
So, there you have it. A welcome distraction, a necessary challenge, an itch scratched — all in less time than you might imagine. Convinced?