As the New Year is preparing to force us all to live within the confines of 2017 for a whole year (selfish!), ModState LLC has continued to develop behind closed doors. In addition to growing beyond the recently-founded board of directors in terms of MANpower1, we’re gearing up to expand our reach as an online magazine in 20172.
I’m pleased to report that yesterday ended with December having bested August as our strongest month of traffic to date and that honestly shocks me still. While it may not seem like the brightest PR move for your “top” editorial figure to act surprised by good news out in the open, there’s no getting around the fact that our network has struggled on every level throughout much of this month. Any of you who braved the wiles of the post-election stimulation hangover by swinging by here know that. In fact, until this week, the days spent with a static image up were the sole sign of life just prior to our server issues. Until Wednesday, we weren’t functioning on any level discernible by the neutral observer.
With that, it’s far beyond relief the feeling I close out this month knowing that, even with all of our apparent woes the public didn’t give up on us and continued to persist in swinging by to see if we were milling about. Again, the interest was so keen and persistent that we topped August as our strongest month in traffic since our official launch on 30 April, 2016. Rather than go out on a whimper, complete with moans and groans of “It’s not fair!” I’m thrilled knowing that the paranoia involved in constantly backing up database and files paid off by ModState losing nothing more than the downtime involved and some of the favor we had generated amongst our faithful. Not only have I learned a great deal on the technical side due to our budget calling me into IT action since before the launch (HTML aside, any additional CSS and PHP work? Yep!), but I got to know our server and a few other anger-inducing sets of initials due to the chaos of our downtime. On top of being able to nearly use all ten fingers in a countdown of traumas endured in my personal life in my lifetime of Decembers survived, I ended up having to bring about resolution to a month replete with grief enveloping ModState as a publication and a network. As a result, by whatever means this series of debacles transpired, it nearly met with a damning end as a corporate enterprise.
That did not occur, obviously. I’ve been shown unwavering support behind closed doors by everyone involved on every level of this enterprise, and all that really matters now (from the corporate standpoint) is that everyone made it through this Holiday season safe and sound. LLC aside, though, and where the love never quite ran out on me (though it would’ve been warranted long ago) was as shown me by both of my wonderful, ever-loving and kind parents throughout my three-plus decades of life and, last but not least, my lovely, determined wife (imbued, I promise you, with the resilient love and belief not dissimilar from a patron saint of any and all goodness). That personal, Heaven-on-Earth, unholy-but-divinely-favored trinity of love meant all stayed right through the rain as all ends well this year because the love shown me never ceases and…yes, all is well.
Strength and honor.
1 Yeah, manpower. Just like we’ve been called corpsman in the Navy not because women are inferior but because until this half of the decade women have not been consistently permitted into combat-ready units as part of any policy. Thus, Marine infantry units did what they’ve always done in taking Navy medical personnel along for the s**t-show and, again, recall that bit about how it has been 99+% men that’ve gone to combat in America? Well, the Navy medical officers go by their rank but the Navy enlisted who go with the Marines? Nobody but their fellow Navy enlisted say their rank. To the Marines? It’s “Doc” and, to everyone else, they’re just a corpsman. That said, as pertains to ModState, as we’ve had several wonderful, brilliant women involved in our endeavor(s), that comprises what I like to call “a joke”, referring to the lot as manpower even though one of our stalwarts is from our stomping grounds here in South Louisiana in spite of her current geographical handicap (she lives in Orlando, Florida). That and, oh, yeah, on our board of directors and fulfilling an integral role as not only a visionary accountant but also as an acting CFO to help us get it together, keep it together and make it off the ground? In her extensive spare time outside of this she is a caretaker for a live-in elderly relative, a cosmetologist and is working on cleaning up one dilapidated old property while selling another. And by working on it I mean she’s the one actually doing it. That lady for whom a label of “ambitious” would nearly approach an insult? Katherine F. DeViney? That would be my mother. If there was a chance I was being serious (which there isn’t), she wouldn’t be within the same language as a joke she would bear the brunt of.
2 We only have to put up with 2017 for 365 days. Hey, it could’ve been 366 and it’d be one of those weird years where people like my former neighbor in Knoxville, “Crazy” Eddie, who was just turning 40-year-old but kept insisting he was actually turning 10. “Whatever for?!” I thought you’d never ask. I just don’t feel like repeating that story again. Not now. Au revoirs!