I’ve waited to make the announcement on public social media, but I’m not waiting any longer. My days of daily journalism are numbered. In fact, I can count them on my two hands with fingers to spare.

Starting later this month, I’ll join BNP Media, a business-to-business publisher out of Troy, as editor of National Driller. As you might guess, it focuses on the drilling industry, specifically water drilling but also touching on other areas. I’ll set the agenda for coverage, manage contributors, cultivate more contributors, and find ways to grow and improve the product. I’ll reach out to and try to engage readers using social media. And, I think I’ll have fun doing it.

If you think reading stories about drilling sounds dull, try reading years of Kwame Kilpatrick coverage and Martha Stewart columns. No different. I’ve worked at The Detroit News for almost five and a half years. It’s past time for a change and this is it.

Plus, it’s a day job. Years ago, I went to college to improve my lot in life. At the time, I was working a lot of night shifts. Well, professional life in my chosen field has meant more night shifts than I care to count. My schedule had improved somewhat lately, but still could be unpredictable. A 9-5 or 8-4 job means more time with my girls (both of them, at the same time).  I already know I have Christmas off. This year and next, and the one after. And that’s not something I could say working at a newspaper.

It’ll be a big change.

I wish my ink-stained newspaper brethren the best. I learned a lot and it was fun while it lasted. I’ll always have a soft spot for newspapers, but it’s time for me to move on.

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Actually shot last night at a nearby park, but sums up the mood nicely.

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This Saturday is the North Country Trail Run marathon. I’m excited about another notch in the marathon belt and stoked that my street team (i.e., wife and daughter) will be there to support me.

And I’m totally stoked about the ginormous medal they’ll hang on my neck at the finish line. The race newsletter describes it:

They certainly are not very much like the traditional race medal you receive. We believe the uniqueness of each medal only adds to their beauty and ruggedness. North Country also believes it is important to work with U.S. companies and hope to inspire other races to work with local artists and US labor to bring a greater percentage of race medal production back to the US. Last year’s medal weighed 11.5 ounces while this year’s weighs more than 16 ounces. And, no two medals are alike because each is handcrafted.

Wha? 16 ounces? That’s nuts. This one’s going to make diminutive 3- and 4-ounce medals from my other races. Rock. There are pictures on the race’s Facebook page. These neck-breakers are also American made. Mom would be proud.

Beyond the pre-race anxiousness and jittery feelings of whether I trained enough (or how well so much road training will translate to trails), I’m also excited to get this damn taper overwith. Seriously. I’ve run 3 miles in the last two and a half weeks. I keep thinking, Oh, wouldn’t today be a nice day for a run? And then my taper conscience kicks in. Why don’t you go stretch? Or eat some fruit? That little voice can get so annoying. I just want it to go away, and the only way to do that is to finish Saturday.

As an aside, I wish Daily Mile had a taper toggle so I didn’t get those sad emails asking me where I’ve been.

In non-running news, I’ve been deluged with spam at my blocletters email address. Spammers should die.

Also, I’m slogging through the Game of Fire and Ice series. About a third of the way through book two, A Clash of Kings. Love it. So much more reading than I’m used to. I read reams at work, so my eyes usually rebel at leisure reading. I’m still reading, and that speaks to how much I enjoy the story.

I can’t wrap up a post without the obligatory shot of girlie. This one’s at a nearby park. I helped her climb this green rope ladder, and she was so self-satisfied I had to snap a picture. I can’t believe she’ll be 3 years old soon. It seems like just yesterday I could easily cradle her in my arms. Now, she’s 3 feet tall and rising.

Running 26 miles will be totally worth it to see her at the finish line screaming “Go daddy go daddy go daddy go!”

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This is fun.

I’ve had problems with my iPhone button on and off for months. Late Sunday, it stopped responding (again). No matter what I did, I couldn’t get it to click. I’d press dozens of times, and the screen would just sit there, taunting me. Restarting the phone every time I want to change an app is no fun, I must say.

Originally, I blamed the hardware. The button on my last phone wore out after about a year, too. Later, I blamed software. I thought maybe a badly coded app was sticking it to the OS. Then I updated iOS, and it happened again right after the update. My suspicion turned to iOS itself. But that wasn’t consistent. I’ve come full circle, now, back to hardware.

The most recent episode lasted until Tuesday, during which time my iPhone was essentially useless. Then I dropped it while trying to juggle the device and a few other items as I signed the paperwork to enter a local 5K.

Bingo. Dropping it on my foot jarred back into place whatever doesn’t work behind that button. Responsiveness for days. Or hours, at least. It stopped reacting to clicks again later that day. Bam! I clunked it hard on a table on the headphone-jack side. Back in business. Fonz, meet jukebox.

At least now I know how to fix it. Funny. We build these advanced devices that get more and more advanced all the time. And when they break, it’s still a swift kick or a good thump that fixes them.

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I recently updated the Google+ app on my iPhone, and it’s as stunning as it is useful. It makes the Facebook app look like the broken down amalgamation it is. The problem? You can’t be social without other people.

It frustrates me. Facebook is good enough, and that’s good enough for most people. But I care about my social media experience and I’m sick of dealing with Facebook: the games, the sticky social readers, the interface (mobile and desktop). I yearn for something clean, uncluttered. Facebook, essentially, doesn’t make me want to use Facebook. What Facebook needs is a 2.0 version that isn’t a kludgy cobbling together of everything that developers have added to the site over time. I don’t expect that to happen anytime soon.

Competition abounds: Twitter, Google+, Path. Even Diaspora. All of these elegant services have a user experience that doesn’t get in the users’ way. So, with the exception of Twitter, why do they fail to pull in users? I wish I knew. I bet their developers wish they knew, too.

Friends of mine on Facebook likely notice that I almost always post there from Twitter. Twitter doesn’t constantly tell me who played what word in the latest social crossword game. Yes, I block these things. New ones come on line all the time.

Facebook going public will only accelerate the monetization of interactions. That means more games, more ads, more of everything that I think gets in the way of social interaction.

The only solution? Diversify. Google+ isn’t the Facebook alternative. It is one alternative. Try Path (which is mobile-only), Pair (for something really intimate), Diaspora (if you want an invite, ask me, but it’s about to open to everyone), or Twitter.

I know the inertia of staying. But I also know Facebook’s interface bugs me more and more. So, who’s with me?

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Riding an elliptical or as girlie calls it, the “pa-liptical,” doesn’t come naturally to me. It just doesn’t. Call it an inherent lack of rhythm. Call it a bias for running. Call it what you will, it’s not easy for me. But I’m learning.

We bought an elliptical a few weeks back of Craigslist. About the same time, I developed a pain above the medial side of my left ankle. And no, it’s not from lifting the elliptical and helping to move it downstairs (that damn thing’s heavy!). The pain, I suspect, is a minor overuse injury, so I prescribed myself a few weeks of not running.

That’s where the elliptical comes in. I still wanted exercise, but needed zero impact. After several uses, I’m finally getting the hang to it. It’s like running in sand: It’s difficult and you don’t get anywhere. But it keeps my legs moving and gives a modicum of aerobic action, so I can’t complain.

That said, I still can’t wait to get back to running. The ankle’s improving, so I’m optimistic. This weekend might be good. Waiting a full two weeks, which would be middle of next week, might be better. Either way, I think I’ll stick to an elliptical session a week or so; I think it’ll help build leg strength.

In other running news, I registered today for the North Country Run 2012 marathon in August. Stoked to renew the marathon card, and it looks like a fun event. Registration even includes a barbecue and beers at the finish line. How can you beat that?

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I shudder to think what the future holds for girlie in terms of technology. How we rely on and interact with technology has changed fast in my lifetime, and the pace of tech evolution seems to accelerate by the year.

Girlie’s skill with tech started earlier than I expected: She’s been able to operate the slide lock on my iPhone since about 15 months. Since then, she’s grown into quite the adept. She zips through screens on our iPhones and iPad finding “her” apps. PBS Kids is a favorite, where she can find Dr. Seuss and Noah Comprende shorts. She also likes Youtube (and has a knack for finding Annoying Orange videos) and Penguins, which is a live cam of the California Academy of Sciences penguinarium. And Koi Pond.

She’s never known a world where she can’t video chat with her uncle and his cat on a mobile phone. Yesterday, she told me she wanted to see grandma on my iPhone. I forget just how she asked in her two-and-a-half year-old’s vocabulary, but she wanted to video chat with grandma. It’s as natural to her as ketchup on chicken nuggets.

Things change fast. I won’t recognize her world in 20 years. But, then again, I thought we’d have flying cars by now.

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I forgot to post this weeks ago, but a neighbor who snapped a photo of me at the Detroit marathon gave me this print. This shows a rugged me (in bandana) coming off Belle Isle at about mile 22. I had dropped a water bottle about 100 yards earlier and almost didn’t pick it up for fear I couldn’t get up again.

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I’m too young to be an original The Clash fan, so I won’t even front. The group form ed when I was 3 years old, and I was 6 years old when the seminal London Calling came out.

Lately, though, I just can’t seem to get enough. I jam to The Clash at home doing the dishes. I rock out in the car. I just emptied my Shuffle, and filled it with The Clash to take on runs. Is there nothing this band can’t make better?

Enough yet?

I’ve had Combat Rock as long as I remember. And, really, that 1982 album was the first I exposure I remember. Rock the Casbah got high rotation on MTV (two asides: it’s my ringtone, and if you put that song on at a party in 100 years, like Groove Is In The Heart,” it’ll still rock the joint.) A few years ago I ripped London Calling and Sandinista! from our library. Somewhere along the way, I picked up the UK and U.S. versions of The Clash, the eponymous debut. This month, I bought Give ‘Em Enough Rope, their second, and the Clash on Broadway retrospective.

The only original studio release I don’t have is Cut the Crap, which apparently is as well regarded and received as Pink Floyd’s The Final Cut. I may leave that one.

Phases of rotation

Like I implied, it’s a phase. I go through periods where only one artist or album will do: Steve Earl, Wilco, !!!, Minus The Bear, whatever. Rush and the Wilco release Sky Blue Sky were recent hooks. Now, The Clash gets a turn.

I have been through enough of these phases to learn to enjoy the current one and eagerly anticipate the next one. But, until that happens, I’ll strap on my earbuds and run mouthing the words to Brand New Cadillac, ’cause you definitely don’t want to hear me sing.

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I totally covet these shoes. My NB Minimus have served me well. I dig my Bikilas for short runs. But these Skora Forms look like something out of Buck Rogers.

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