Thoughts on BlogHer 08
August 6th, 2008I’ve been super reluctant to post about our recent San Francisco trip and the BlogHer 08 conference. Writing about a women’s conference is so laden with explosives that even with my HAZMAT training, I’ve been worried about touching a nerve or saying something that would be misconstrued as chauvinistic or misogynistic. But I really feel like a male perspective adds to the conversation about the difference in how the genders process things.
As my life has become more public, I haven’t regretted or resented what it means. I do not regard myself as famous. But some do. And when those some get concentrated together, reality seems to warp. The energy changes and things that I would never give more than .05 of a second thought, become front and center and the resulting processing grinds me to a halt. Especially socially. I’m not whining. I have a hard time processing the level that people are fans of my wife. The intensity of emotion directed toward Heather is astounding. On both good and bad sides. Being with her at BlogHer was a huge eye opener for me in terms of admiration that people have as well as the level at which they dislike Heather. I understand what happens when someone becomes famous, regardless of scale. Local bands, popular politicians, actors, musicians, et al are all subject to these same kinds of emotions. Humans react in strange, paradoxical ways when other humans gain attention. I’ve been a part of that on a much much smaller scale than Heather. Much smaller. But the dynamics are the same. Press, fans, detractors and outsiders all weigh in. It can be hard to navigate. I still have a huge admiration for how Heather has handled the attention from all corners and how she continues to be creative, every single day. Her strength has been and is inspirational to me. I simply don’t know how she does it in the grinder. But she does it. Well.
We had a lot of things on our to do list for our trip to San Francisco, and I still feel badly that we couldn’t see and do everything we wanted. We had some appointments and business to attend to. We tried to see as many friends as we could. There are so many friends in San Francisco that we really could stay there for a few weeks and still not see everybody like we’d hope.
In that framework of familiarity and bittersweet scheduling, we set out for the conference. We had hoped to sneak in the back of a few sessions and sneak back out, so Heather could enjoy the conference from an attendees perspective and so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed before her session. We had hoped to make it to more sessions but Im afraid I’m to blame for that.
On the Friday morning (opening day of the conference), I got a call from my Mom that her sister had died the previous night. This sister was my mother’s last surviving sibling. This past holiday season, this same aunt lost her husband. He was in his late 80s and had been very ill, so his death, while difficult, was not a total surprise. Of my extended family, this particular uncle and aunt have been the closest to us over the years. We spent a lot of Thanksgiving days together and their grandchildren were in the same age range as me and my younger sister. For several years, we would spend extended stays during the summer at each others houses. We’d go swimming, play in the park and play heated games of Sorry! and Clue and Pit. I looked forward to seeing my second cousins (cousins once removed? children of my cousin?) every summer and every holiday season. Just about every time we drove to Salt Lake City, we’d stop in and say hello and my mom would get her cold Tab fix from my aunt.
Losing my uncle brought into sharp relief my own mortality and that of my family. I worried for my aunt, who was older, losing her sight and had been married to my uncle for 67 years. I was worried for my mom, who is no spring chicken. It’s hard to see people who were so vital in my youth get older. My aunt took her husband’s passing as well as could be expected. Her surviving family stepped in and helped a great deal. My mom spent a few days a week with her sister over the past seven months watching movies, shopping and spending time together. I’m so glad they had that time together now that my aunt is gone.
I offered to come home from San Francisco that day, but my Mom said the funeral would be on the following Tuesday. I would be able to stay and support Heather through the press appointments, meetings, parties and the conference.
I spent the rest of that Friday in a haze of random recall. The cookie drawer. My aunt had metal, 1950s cabinetry well into the late 70s. In a very child-accessible drawer was an assortment of cookies. We were always invited to have a cookie when we visited. Her chocolate chip cookie recipe is amazing. Music. She taught music for years and was very involved with music teaching in Utah. She influenced a lot of people through her music, including me. She played beautifully. Sweetness. My mom’s family represented a broad range of personality: salty to sweet. My aunt was the sweetest and most kind of them all. Design. My aunt had teak furniture. Their dining set was mid-century modern and lovely. They had a teak sidebar and buffet as well. Their house was always so full of nice things…
If I saw you or spoke with you on that Friday, please forgive me being weird if I seemed so. Being “on” in the middle of a personal tragedy demands something deep within that I have yet to discover inside myself. In a way, though, this tragedy underscored the intensity of being around so many diverse and interesting women.
One of the hardest things for me to pinpoint is why this conference was so different from others we’ve attended. It’s not just that it is a women’s conference, or that women are the main attendees. It goes deeper than that. I believe that it touches on how women process things. How women interact. How women socialize (and likely, are socialized). There is an internal nature to women that was much closer to the surface than I have ever experienced. Projections, disappointments, boundaries. All of it. Right on the surface. It’s strange to feel so much support along with so much of something else that you can’t define. Plus, given that 99% of the people around you have publishing outlets… it can get a little strange.
Amongst the strangest things of that weekend was saying or doing something and knowing that we’d be under a scrutiny unlike other conferences. BlogHer represents the core of Heather’s audience; the core of women self-publishing and the core of a rising voice of women. However, it also represents the paradox around putting oneself out there. Heather gets recognized now and then, and we’ve been in interesting circumstances where someone will approach and introduce themselves. I enjoy meeting people and this is always a chance to meet people who are readers and supporters. That part of the conference was spectacular. It felt like there were far more bloggers around than at South by Southwest. Even still, wondering if anybody would recognize us and determine that we were horrible people because of how we spoke or seemed. Some argue that “this is your business” and I can see that. What isn’t our business is controlling how people read vocal inflections, conversations and body language. Everything at BlogHer is on display. It was exhausting to consider. I stopped considering that every comma, every breathe could potentially win a new fan or cause somebody to feel like they were treated poorly. I know one person who handles this kind of thing well. Heather. She’s amazing and was gracious and lovely to every single person who approached her.
Which makes reading the recaps of the conference so strange. How can so many people who were there see something so different? How does Heather turning away to look at me or say hello to someone else constitute an affront? Especially in a conference setting? This has never happened at South by Southwest, but seems to always follow Heather to BlogHer. I don’t think this is a “dooce®” phenomenon. This is a feminine phenomenon.
Stephanie Klein, whom Heather shared a stage with, wrote that being at BlogHer is like “a constant, 3-day, pledge class” and I think that sums it up very well:
It’s really like walking around a constant, 3-day, pledge class, wondering when you’ll finally be able to fully relax and be inducted into the sorority of women. It’s scary in a way that shouldn’t be. I hear way too many people mention “private parties” with apologies. “Oh, are you going to the Nintendo dinner?” she whispers. No. I wasn’t invited. “What about the private party at the suite upstairs by this sponsor? Oh, did you go to the sponsored private cocktail…” Since when did blogging become so elitist? It really is just another way, ironically enough, to feel rejected.
Until, that is, you aren’t. Until those moments where you connect immediately to someone you’ve read before. To someone who just gets it, with whom you share all the unspokens. And then it all changes. Your outlook, your enjoyment, and what you get out of it all. What I was reminded of most at my first BlogHer experience, at the most basic level, is what it’s like to go about making brand new friends, without relying on insincerity, or flattery, without bonding over mean girl moments. How fragile all of us can be, how nervous, how eager we are to be liked. And how ridiculously satisfying it is to connect with strangers who are now suddenly so much more.
The thing that most gets in my craw about reading the reactions from attendees is that people don’t seem to understand that Heather has helped you in some way. If you blog, Heather has helped you. She’s made it easier for you to accept advertising and easier for you to make money self-publishing online. Heather has helped move blogging into the mainstream. Even if you disagree with that and publish those thoughts, Heather has helped you. Heather is a lightning rod. And you benefit, even if the story is negative, you still benefit, because the mention of what you do just got added again to the greater dialogue. You don’t have to like or agree with Heather, but I was with her 98% of the time she was at BlogHer and she never once said or did anything untoward. Never once.
Which makes the conversation during her session and the resulting posts surreal. I was there. I didn’t feel any drama. I didn’t feel anything other than admiration from and for this roomful of women doing amazing things with their talent. Is it weird to have people say things about you like you aren’t a real person (whether those things were said with good intent or not)? It is. And sometimes it’s weirder than others. I don’t see how responding to that question by using a recent example of a popular blogger (and one who used threatening language) and then having that blogger stand up and say she’s drunk and then declining to respond to said blogger because who engages a drunk person in front of a thousand people? How is that in any way anything other than sheer professionalism? And trying to keep the panel moving forward? How is that in any way a bad thing? Or dramatic?
You should know that a couple of hours before Heather took the stage, she was made aware of threats of physical violence to both of us. Heather could have bowed out. She could have decided it wasn’t worth the risk. She didn’t. She went on with it. I would have supported her regardless of her choice. But under all of it, she sat up there and was a complete pro.
It’s only dramatic if we make it so. I haven’t written about this strangeness until now because I didn’t want to contribute to the making of anything other than, “Wow, my wife is fucking amazing in front of people; that she had the presence of mind to handle a potentially volatile situation with extreme professionalism says so much about who she is.”
Of course people are going to make something of nothing. It’s fun. The technology enables it. Whatever. What would you do if you were the subject of a mildly confrontational blog post and then later in an extremely awkward way in front of a thousand people by that someone who made the original blog post and was someone you didn’t know?
Heather could have evacuated the conference following her panel. She did not. She stayed and said hello to every person who wanted to speak to her. Every person. Including the person who created the awkwardness on her personal site and in the session. Heather was nothing but kind and gracious. But some attendees didn’t see it that way. And they are entitled to their viewpoints. I question their grasp on reality, but that’s my thing and I’ll own that.
Finally, BlogHer feels like a really unruly gathering in the way the first Woodstock might have felt to a music fan. There are moments of brilliance and historic weight combined with lesser pleasantries. To the credit of BlogHer, the restroom facilities seemed to be working just fine and no one had to be worried about the brown acid.
EPILOGUE: Heather doesn’t know that I’m writing this. I think it’s important to mention that she’ll be reading this for the first time, just like you. I’m going to open comments. Maybe I’m a masochist. Maybe I’m trying to understand women better. I’m married to an incredible woman. It needs to be said. o
August 6th, 2008 at 2:52 pm
I admire, respect, and honor every word you’ve written here, Jon. You and Heather are the embodiment of what every marriage should equal: true love, unending support, and a friendship that extends deeper than any language could ever express. I think no matter how old people get, the little kid who was the playground bully or the nerd who got picked on will always survive inside of them, and it sounds like a lot of those inner children congregated at this specific conference. Kudos to you both for your professionalism. You done good. And this may sound corny, but I aspire to find a partnership like what you’ve described here. Family is life.
P.S.
Dude… you’ve been “famous” since your Swim Herschel Swim days. Don’t think the Skarmageddon double-CD has departed from my playlist!
August 6th, 2008 at 2:54 pm
as a fierce admirer of heather, i tend to think this defense wasn’t necessary. i read the blogher controversy from my distant location and thought “huh. it all sounds like high school stuff.” (i mean, private parties? how ass is that?) i was surprised that the blogess’ comment had rubbed the wrong way, and i was equally surprised that so many people thought heather had done something offensive during the Q&A. from the perspective of someone who loves and wants to protect/defend their spouse, i understand your wish to write this post. but at the same time, i can’t see how it could help any of the fuss that has erupted.
people shouldn’t get so hot under the collar, it’s bound to have some bad consequences for them in the long run.
August 6th, 2008 at 2:55 pm
and in response to elevendreams: good perspective. i sees your points.
August 6th, 2008 at 2:59 pm
I think what I dig most is that you are able to voice your opinion here without being harsh, without accusing anyone of anything, and without stating any sweeping generalities about women (besides that they are different, and duh). It must be hard to want to stand up and protect, and have your brain tell you that your fists are no good here, only well-chosen words.
Mostly, and simply, I just dig dooce.com. Funny! Smart. Funny! Heartwarming.
But yest, as an aside, I do get a bit giddy when Heather makes the news because it validates MY [boring, personal] journaling as something more than trivial or the latest craze.
Thanks for the male perspective. Smart. Even-tempered. Well thought out.
August 6th, 2008 at 2:59 pm
I could get blasted for saying this being a woman myself, but I just believe SOME women are so very passive aggressive. They are only willing to insult the person in a safe, cowardly, and catty way. Plus some people just see it as “cool” or “unique” to dislike successful people. I would never be strong enough to handle 1/3 of the crap slung at your family.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:01 pm
@skh, I don’t disagree with you. I sat on this for two weeks before pushing the publish button.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:02 pm
Awh. May you and Heather always be such a great team. From what I have seen, she does seem to do it very well. It’s not easy to be a supah stah.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:04 pm
Great post. I definitely have to agree with elevendreams, I can only hope for a marriage as encouraging and comfortable as yours.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:07 pm
i gathered, and i completely respect your reasons for doing so.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:15 pm
Wow. Is it any consolation to know that those of us who didn’t go to BlogHer have no idea what this post is talking about? At the end of the day, there’s only a couple hundred people who are intimately involved in and writing about the conference, as you’ve described it; and peripherally maybe a couple thousand more who have followed the gossip or commented. It’s a small percentage when compared to your full audience. Just be sure you’re not giving that side of the conversation more weight than it deserves, as perplexing as it may be given how different the experience was for you versus what you’re reading.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:17 pm
I think every job has it’s own crap. As a huge, but relatively recent fan, I’m sorry that the crap that comes with this gig is so…crappy. (I studied engineering in school, not English, so I’m not exactly the most eloquent person. That new sewer you put in a few years back? I studied how all that works in college. I loved those entries because you took the most beautiful pictures of an excavator.)
I’m wasting space with my rambling. My point: Thank you. Thanks to both of you for creating great sites. It always adds a little something pretty, or something funny, to my day.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:21 pm
Jon — it must have taken a lot of strength on your part to write this, knowing that: a) it would probably be met with much of the same shortsightedness that you encountered at BlogHer (and the aftermath), and; b) you had to really dig deep within your heart to say exactly what needed to be said. I admire that.
Like it or not, the internet has changed us all, both good and bad. I’m sure both you and Heather can agree with that. Unfortunately the internet has made many people forget just how insignificant we all are, and given a misconception that just because we can register for a blog and type thoughts on the keyboard, that we have been granted some new power that is nothing but a fantasy.
I’m not saying that I’m any better; look at me, pushing my thoughts on your post like they are actually important. But hey, I read your words, I agree with your feelings of support for your wife, and I felt it was important for you to hear that you’re not alone on that front. Not. At. All.
Sometimes significant words *can* come from insignificant people.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:24 pm
I wasn’t at BlogHer — I’m fairly new to the blogging world. I’m hoping to go next year, but that’s completely beside the point. My point is, I don’t know exactly what went on, aside from what I read on a few blogs, and I don’t understand all the fuss. It sounds like those trying to create drama may just be attention-seekers, but what do I know? I personally admire Heather and think that you and she both deserve a lot of respect.
And by the way, your first cousins’ children are your first cousins once removed. Their children would be your first cousins twice removed. Your second cousins would be your parents’ cousins children. Or you can think of it in terms of your kids — your first cousins’ kids (your first cousins once removed) would be Leta’s second cousins. Complicated enough for you?? I have a big family!
August 6th, 2008 at 3:26 pm
I will forever marvel at how some people feel the right to tell someone else what they should or should not reveal on their blogs. You and Heather have accepted the consequences of dooce.com’s popularity with style (and a teensy bit o’ snark, which I love). The threats of physical violence are insanity, albeit scary insanity. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that at BlogHer, an environment that I expected would be more camaraderie than competition.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:29 pm
Having had the opportunity to spend a few hours with both of you on a scale far smaller (and ‘intimate’) than BlogHer would expose you to, it still astounds me that you both are able to function with even close to some semblance of normal, and have what appears to be a great bond. I’ve said it before: I don’t know how Heather manages to get out of bed some days, and I know you’re a big reason why she can. Huge props to you both - you’re some awesome people.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:33 pm
I’ve been aware of this situation and quite frankly have been wondering if you and/or Heather would have a response to it. I am glad to see your side of the story.
I think what people forget about communicating through writing is that a big chunk of essential communication is lost. Gestures, vocal inflections, facial expressions. Readers and writers BOTH forget this, and it is so easy to write something and then forget that people may not take it the way that you meant it. It is easy to read something written by someone you don’t know well and take it the wrong way, and it seems that this is unfortunately what has happened in this case.
I read the post by the other blogger that you referenced and while I can see where you are coming from, I think the situation is a regrettable misunderstanding. I am sorry that feelings were hurt on both sides and hope that there may be more of a healing resolution for you and Heather and the other blogger in the future.
It’s absolutely bizarre to me that you received threats of physical violence - who does that? My God, people, it’s a WEBSITE. If you don’t like it or the writer, spend your time elsewhere. Why is that so difficult?
It’s interesting to read your perspective on the BlogHer conference in general, it’s so completely different from anything else I’ve read. Thank you for posting it.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:34 pm
I’ve been reading Heather’s blog (and yours) for several years now. Reading Dooce.com inspired me to seek out other women/mommy bloggers. It has been so heartening to read other women’s stories about parenting and marriage and life in general.
Just before the BlogHer Conference (which I did not attend — and was surprised to hear about the flap), I found a couple blogs that made disparaging comments about Heather. I was beyond disappointed.
Of all people to spread the negativity how could it be other mommy bloggers?
But it opened my eyes.
These are not extraordinary women. They are just women who write for us all to see, warts and all — they just do it with a lot less grace and dignity than Heather does. And that’s too bad for them.
While I agree that it seems unnecessary for you to write in defense of her, I’m glad you did. It’s chivalrous and lovely. Thank you.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:42 pm
@Michelle, I can’t speak for Heather, but from my perspective, I felt Heather’s “side” of this isn’t that her feelings were hurt. She merely answered a question with a “yes it’s weird and can you believe that someone called me THIS name?”
August 6th, 2008 at 3:45 pm
Hi,
My eyes began to well somewhere early in the essay. By the end, I was gasping for air trying to keep from sobbing. The depth of your love and admiration for your wife is overwhelming. I am new to Dooce and Blurb but in just a few months I have begun to feel a part of your circle of friends. I have no clue what the BlogHer drama was–honestly don’t care because (and please don’t take my X chromosome) in my opinion most women would rather tear down a successful woman than eat chocolate. Where I’m coming from is that much of my life was spent like Heather’s. In a downward spiral of depression, anxiety and all the lovely stuff that goes with it. I’m better now (better living through chemistry) and I see Heather’s success as the public display of the success of every woman who lives with mental illness. She is my voice. She is who I can point to and say, “See, mental illness doesn’t mean your life is over”. Reading the things you say about her, well, it just proves how right her father is. I cry with joy that there are men like you for women like us.
Don’t worry. I’m not going to become your stalker…I found my own man like you!
Thank you again for this stunning essay.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:50 pm
I wanted to chime in with Yolanda. I read blurb and dooce regularly, but did not go to BlogHer and knew nothing about any drama. Hopefully there’s some consolation in knowing that a large part of your audience (I’m assuming) was unaware of all of that.
As for women, well, we are very strange. I am quite intimidated by large gatherings of women because the energy can shift in such unexpected ways. Women can be catty and mean… they can stir up drama for no reason other than they’re bored/they’re unhappy/they like drama. It seems to me that these qualities are magnified somehow in a large group of women… it’s like the classic alpha male struggle, but in a more insidious manner.
I’m not trying to be judgmental, even though what I said above sounds like a blanket statement. (I didn’t mean it that way.) I’m just being honest about what I’ve witnessed my entire life… and what I’ve participated in at times. (Not proud, but it would be dishonest to say I’ve never once been catty.)
Anyway, I loved this post… and for what it’s worth, don’t bother spending a lot of time trying to figure women out. I AM one and I still can’t figure us out.
August 6th, 2008 at 3:52 pm
My condolences on your aunt’s passing.
Your online, anonymous haters I can almost understand. Some people just like to pee in other folks’ cornflakes; I don’t quite get the purpose myself, but if nothing else I realize the ubiquity of it on the internet.
But for people who meet you in person? I watched you and Heather spent 2+ hours not just meeting and greeting but actually *interacting* with literally hundreds of people — and this after you’d spent all day at a conference. It wasn’t contrived or staged or done with a “well I guess we gotta do this thing for the fans” kind of attitude; everyone who got a chance to meet you and Heather got a degree of personal attention and intimacy that can’t be faked.
I think that this post was worth writing even if all it does is let you vent a little bit about what is an understandably upsetting situation. That said, I really do think that the problem is with other people and it would be a shame if you and Heather felt the need to change the way you do things or handle situations because of them.
Seriously, it’s not you — it’s them.
August 6th, 2008 at 4:01 pm
Today I accidentally clicked a link that sent me to a site that has literally dozens of posts about hating you and Heather. I have always heard about people hating Heather but I suppose I was naïve in thinking those thoughts were just passing. This person wrote thousands of words, posted links to both Dooce and Blurbomat, criticized your parenting skills, said that they think you lie about nearly everything.
I was surprised and kind of sickened that someone would devote so much time to hating your family and Chuck. She even mentioned hating Chuck. Chuck is a fucking DOG. How do you get yourself so worked up over a dog?
I wrote this long draft about the whole situation including this Bloggess vs. Dooce thing but then I clicked over and saw this in my reader. I’m glad you addressed it. I think you’re spot-on. Heather handled herself well according to video I’ve seen. The Bloggess was pretty ridiculous but I also don’t think what she wrote was bad and I don’t see why Heather would be upset over that.
August 6th, 2008 at 4:11 pm
I have a lot of admiration for both you and Heather. I love reading both of your blogs and looking at the photos that you take. I was at Blogher and I blogged about it (a few times) including a post about Heather and Stephanie’s keynote, which I thought was excellent. I could be wrong, but I think I may have been the first audience member to talk with Heather after the keynote and I expressed my admiration for her in general, but specifically with how she handled herself during the “drama.” For me, what was dramatic wasn’t Heather’s response or even the question directed at her, it was the way that some women in the crowd reacted so negatively. It was just weird—I had one woman yelling, from directly behind me, towards the stage.
Blogher was fun for the most part, but it was also a little unsettling. I was fortunate to attend with two friends who were as outgoing and open to the experience as I was. However, it surprised me how cliquey it seemed and how divided groups were at times when we could have been supporting each other.
With regards to you and Heather. I’ve met you both once in Vancouver and spoke to Heather in SF. You were both so friendly, warm and welcoming. I can’t say that I was surprised, but it’s always odd meeting people that you admire in person but when I actually spoke to you both it wasn’t odd at all. The only thing that really surprised me is that you’re both so tall!
Finally, I walked by you and Heather in Maggie’s panel and I noticed your clogs. I nearly stopped to high-five you—I’m a wooden clog wearing half-Dane—but I didn’t want to cause a scene. As amazing as Heather is, you’re totally right on the clogs, dude.
August 6th, 2008 at 4:16 pm
Just wanted to be another voice of support and say that I don’t know how in the world Heather deals with what she has to at BlogHer (not to mention online every day). Even the most well-intentioned, adoring fans often border on creepy, and I doubt most of us would be able to react as well as she does.
August 6th, 2008 at 4:22 pm
I’ve been an arts & entertainment writer for many years, and I’m married to a longtime music promoter. When I’ve had the opportunities to meet people who wrote a song (or several, or wrote a book, or made a painting) that had some residence in my heart, it’s always been a little frightening. It’s hard not to want the friendship/solace/fun/whatever their art provided me with to transcend into our meeting. And if they treated me in some way that made me feel small, or slighted, even if they did it accidentally/had a bad day, it’s hard for that not to be a little heartbreaking. On the flip side, it would be impossible for most of those people *not* to upset someone somewhere along the way, even if they were perfect. There is no way to live up to a kajillion different people’s expectations.
The openness of Heather’s posts can make people feel like she’s singing their song. And here you have an event where a lot of of people are singing their own songs, wanting that kind of connection with the people they admire, and wanting someone to tell them that they rock too. For some folks, the fact that blogging pulls them out of isolation and that their virtual lives are being put to the test has got to be scary. Especially in a not very intimate crowd of 1,200.
It’s a recipe for all kinds of distorted feelings and misplaced perceptions, maybe especially among bloggers, some of whom may be only at their best, communications-wise, from behind a keyboard. I wasn’t able to make it to BlogHer, and maybe it’s just the feeds I hang out in, but the majority of encounters with Heather that bloggers I read have mentioned seem to be glowingly positive. And that is amazing for such a pioneering person, because pioneers always get slammed.
I hope you both continue to find new ways to be comfortable in that weird public/private life space. And I’m sorry for your loss.