I apologize for not posting anything in the past several months. It has been a very busy time in my life. However, I plan to change that — starting now.

However, first, please indulge me as I fill you in with what you may have missed.

The past has been about change. If it were a chapter in a book, a potential title would be “transitions.”

Since leaving FOX News in May, 2009, I completed the majority of course work needed to earn a masters in Interactive Communications from Quinnipiac University. It has been an eye-opening experience — and has connected me with some inspirational people.

While working toward my degree, the Connecticut Post, a Hearst Connecticut-owned newspaper, was generous enough to take me in. I have been working there four to five nights a week as a part-time copy editor and page designer. In addition to working on Post pages, I have also had the opportunity to work with editors and reporters from Hearst’s other Fairfield County entities, namely The Stamford Advocate, Greenwich Time and Danbury News-Times. Folks are putting their hearts and souls in these papers, and if you have the opportunity to read one, I highly encourage you to do so. In addition to working on the copy desk there, I have also written technology pieces. You can check out my blog, Tech Talk, here. It is updated daily, and so I hope you check it out often — and offer suggestions and potential topics.

In addition to the Hearst properties, Quinnipiac generously offered me a graduate assistantship. Over the past year, I have had the pleasure of meeting a few dozen of the Hamden-based university’s best and brightest students, faculty and members. I was delighted to write about my experiences that have been used across numerous platforms.

Well, the graduate assistantship worked out so well it has become my next adventure. Beginning Monday, I will begin a new job — as assistant director of public relations and social media at Quinnipiac. You heard it here first, folks. It is a position that promises to be as rewarding and enjoyable as it will be challenging and cutting-edge.  I look forward to sharing some of my experiences with you here.

I have also been contributing to the Radio Television Digital News Association, a fantastic organization for journalism professionals. You can read some of my writings — as well as the perspectives of others — here.

And, speaking of journalism, I have continued my work with the great people of the Society of Professional Journalists. I am the vice president of the Connecticut pro chapter. If you are not yet a member, please consider this your personal invitation to join. The organization is composed of some really talented and great individuals. Particularly in a time of uncertainty in the industry, it is important to be part of such an esteemed and important organization. You can learn more about events happening in Connecticut here. Most of the events are free, so what are you waiting for?

OK, enough with the pitches. I look forward to continuing where we left off.

Oh, and if we’re not yet connected on Twitter, let’s do so.

Until next time, rock on.

So I finally did it, after driving for a decade I finally locked my keys — which were a shopping bag — in my trunk.

Twenty minutes ago, I closed my trunk, and with it any chance of leaving the Westfield Shoppingtown Trumbull mall in a timely fashion.

After placing a call to mall security, through a special phone just after 3 p.m., I began the wait.

Despite the presence of two Trumbull police cars just feet away, I remained locked out of the car and in the cold for nearly an hour.

A mall security officer informed me he “would be right back.” Twelve minutes later, he drove by and informed me through his car window be had another call. I should have learned from “Scream,” that when someone says they’ll be right back, they never are.

At 3:30 p.m., 30 minutes after realizing I had a problem, the security guard pulled behind my car and asked if I belonged to a motorclub. I told him I had AAA and he suggested I call them.

Apparently, all units were searching for some dude, he said.

I informed him of my association with the Connecticut Post, and asked if there was a story to be told. The middle-age gentlemen said no, but informed me that he was considering a change to journalism. I encouraged he considered freelancing.

I then called my neighbor and asked him to bring me my spare key. He said he would.

About fifteen minutes later, he arrived — and within 10 minutes, I was home ending my quasi-harrowing ordeal.

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A whole lot of nudity

I have never been one to spend much time in a locker room — largely because I am not an athletic type of guy.  However, this weekend I found myself in two. 

One before and after my second-ever swimming lesson, and one as a result of my desire to play racquetball and do some minor, and I do mean minor, weight-lifting.

The thing that struck me during both my experiences is how so much more comfortable people to seem to be with their bodies than I had realized. 

At Wilton Y, for example, it seemed like no one gave  a second thought to stripping off their clothing and walking around completely in the nude.  It all seemed very odd to me.  Me?  I preferred to change into and out of my bathing suit in a more private corner of the locker room — inside the confines of a stall.

But the real strangeness struck at a sports club along the Bridgeport/Fairfield line.

I had returned to my bag after playing a very spirited game of racquetball with a former colleague from the Connecticut Post, when I couldnn’t help but notice a very spirited conversation going on right behind me. 

As a result of instinct, and curiosity, I turned around and gave a glance so I could then visualize the gabbing folks in my head.  To my surprise, a handful of middle-aged men were letting it all hang out while standing around a television talking about high school football in the region.  It was, again, very odd to me.  My friend, however, who is much more a jock than I ever could be, didn’t seem phased and said he didn’t even notice the nudity.  So, I suppose, it was just me.

I was so puzzled by the phenomenon that I spoke with an old college friend who consulted an athletic source and informed me that this was not a unique scenario — but rather something that transcends the gender barrier.  Although, she noted, the phenomenon apparently is more common among older folks.  Interesting.

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One of the things I have been long embarrassed and ashamed about was that I couldn’t swim. 

I don’t think I’m afraid of the water as so much as I don’t know how to effectively move about it. 

It’s one of those things that seems so natural to those who can, and so awkward and downright seemingly impossible to those of us who cannot.  Well, as a result of the generosity of a friend, I believe by Christmas I will stroke my way from the ranks of the “have nots (knowing how to swim).

And best of all, I plan to take you along with me on the journey.  Will I make it, or will my ambition just sink like a ton of goggles?  Time will only tell.

Before I get started, I have a question for you: Do you have any tips or suggestions to make my experience as favorable and successful as possible?

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