One of life’s realizations that I’ve often struggled with is the notion that the world will always move on without you. It’s true in your job. It’s true of the town you live in. It’s literally true just on its own. One day you will die and the next day they will still serve food at McDonald’s while the Earth will continue rotating around the sun.
You might have had this sensation at least a few times in your life. Most often it seems to come up when you leave a longtime job. Over the years you mastered the skills needed to complete your tasks. You might even be the only person in the company capable of performing said tasks. You might even do this for years and years. And then one day you will leave, and there may or may not be a tough transition, but eventually they will find someone who can do your job just as well as you, perhaps better, and pretty soon the only time anyone remembers you is when someone says, “Hey, remember that guy who used to wear hoodies to work every day? What was up with that guy?”
I recently went through this when I gave up my gig as editor of Curbed Seattle after four years. What was such a big part of my day for over 1,000 days of my life will now fall to someone else and I can already feel the sensation as if no one except me will remember I was there in the first place.
Same thing when we moved from Whidbey Island to Chicago. While there are people there who will miss us, I also know they will get on with their lives all the same. They’ll stop seeing the empty space where we used to be altogether and just fill it in. The deer that grazed our front lawn will continue to do so, oblivious of the fact that someone else is now looking out at them from the kitchen window.
And I can already feel that sensation coming on now as I officially say that I’ve decided to step away from Troy Nunes Is An Absolute Magician on a day-to-day basis.
There’s myriad reasons I’ve decided to do so right now. Chief among them is feeling that running TNIAAM the way I’ve always done it has shifted from being a labor of love into a chore. The truth is that it’s felt that way for a little while but I’ve only just started admitted it to myself. The move to Chicago also allowed me a little perspective on where I want my career to go from here.
Besides, everybody knows that a Syracuse Orange blog works best when run by someone bordering the Pacific Ocean. As such, John Cassillo will remain as your No. 1 here at TNIAAM. To be honest, John’s basically been running things for a while now anyway. I wouldn’t feel comfortable stepping away from TNIAAM if it wasn’t in such good hands.
That goes for Ari and James and Ben and Claudia and Jim and Kevin and Dan and everyone else contributing to the site, podcast, and social media outputs. The TNIAAM staff has never been stronger and I’m excited to see what the site looks like moving forward.
Now I’m not going away altogether. I’ll still chime in when I feel like writing something. Between Jim Boeheim’s up and down team and the imminent explosion from the Dino Babers Era will provide plenty of opportunities. Consider me like an editor emeritus, which sounds way fancier than “uppity guy who writes once in a while.”
In the meantime, I’ll leave you with two requests.
One, don’t give up on Syracuse sports teams too easily. While the recent uptick has us thinking good things again, this basketball team needs fan support more than before. I understand the inclination to demand change and be upset, but anyone can be a supportive fan when things are good, the true fans are still there when things look bleak.
Two, let’s keep in touch, huh? Make sure you’re following me on Twitter at @SeanKeeleyIsMe and on Facebook on my writer page. I’ll still be doing a little bit of writing for The Comeback, so keep an eye on that. Oh and of course if you can give Passage a listen, rating, or review, you’ll be my friend forever.
I suppose the antidote to that realization about the world moving on without you is that the world also moves on with you. When you start a new job, you’re the person who takes over for someone else. When you move someplace new, you’re living in a place someone else used to call home and making new friends you didn’t have before. And you still have your connections to everything you used to be as well. It’s just different.
Thanks to everyone who helped make the TNIAAM experience such a fundamental part of my life. I am a better person for having created this site and for everything that came from it. Even if all you did was read, you were a part of that. I’m excited to see what the future holds for myself, TNIAAM, and Syracuse fans.