Audiences

Monday March 3, 2025

My onboarding last week included a LinkedIn Learning class about building audiences with content marketing. Turns out, that’s a pretty relevant topic for this newsletter.

I started this thing when I had a lot of time on my hands and wanted to give myself a creative jolt out of professional tedium. I have increasingly less time now, and it’s forcing me to ask big questions like, “What is the point?”

I’m nearing a crossroads where completing this newsletter each week is more stressful than fun. Especially the Monday one. I’m scrambling for a couple of hours every Saturday or Sunday to put some bullshit together, and I think the quality is noticeably worse on Mondays. (Maybe I’m wrong, that’s just my feeling.)

Subscriber growth has stagnated. I haven’t drawn the attention of anybody further than one degree of separation away. They say Picasso completed 20,000 paintings before he sold one. I am not Picasso, and I’m not sure if I have the endurance to write 50,000 newsletters before a stranger subscribes.

Nonetheless, it feels like the purpose of this thing, if it’s feeling more like work, should be to build an audience. Or, at the very least, to entertain the audience I presently have. I’ve talked about it before, but I’m a filthy little praise addict. When this thing sparks conversation, makes someone think introspectively, or just inspires them to say hi, it hits like a Friday afternoon beer every time.

It’s occurred to me recently that one subconscious reason for starting this thing was loneliness. I wouldn’t say I’m full-blown lonely, but I do spend most of my waking hours alone (with Goose). I only see Lindsay for four or five hours each day before bed. I don’t leave the house very much, especially in winter, and when I do, I interact with strangers. I don’t see my friends very often and making new ones is notoriously difficult at this age of responsibility. I play soccer for exercise more than friends these days, although I have made a couple that I’m happy to see each week. The audience of this newsletter is so personal that it has become, to some degree, a substitute for a social life. (Hopefully, just seasonally.)

I’m conditioned to want to build an audience. That’s what I do professionally. I should be able to do this. But I’m also coming to the painful realization that I’m not one-tenth as charming as I think I am. I’m back to that fear of putting in a failed effort. What does it say about me if I can’t grow my audience? If I lose the one I already have? Why am I doing this anyway?

Big questions to which I don’t have answers. And I’ve got too much to do this Sunday to think them through.

One Quote: “Getting an audience is hard. Sustaining an audience is hard. It demands a consistency of thought, of purpose, and of action over a long period of time.” - Bruce Springsteen

Ain’t that the truth, Bruce.

Yes, Heath Ledger did see The Crow.

One Hollywood: The Crow, Starz

Sometimes, you gain audiences for horrible reasons. Brandon Lee was considered a rising star, only to be killed on the set of 1994’s The Crow. The film is good on its own merit, but it became a cult classic due to the eerie parallel between the undead character portrayed by Lee and the fatal nature of the project.

We are all beetles. (According to Vladimir Nabokov, Gregor is, in fact, a beetle, not a cockroach.)

One Book: The Metamorphosis And Others by Franz Kafka

Kafka died in 1924, before much of his work was published, and decades before it began to resonate with the oppressed populations of Cold War Eastern Europe. He did publish The Metamorphosis in his lifetime but hated it as he did most of his own writing. If his dying wishes had been followed, all of his unpublished work would have been burned. Fortunately, he was a lonely man, and nobody followed that wish, allowing him to become a seminal literary figure long after his death. Kafka himself, it turns out, had a fairly Kafkaesque life.

Looks like a pretty shitty job.

One Art: “The Red Vineyard” by Vincent Van Gogh

Van Gogh was famously anonymous in his time. The one painting he positively sold in his life is “The Red Vineyard,” which is today displayed in Moscow’s Pushkin Museum.

Syrup and anti-fascism. That’s what Vermont DOES.

One Person: Lucy Welch

Well, damn, I missed JD Vance by one week! This little gremlin of a creature of hell received a pretty hostile audience in Vermont, where he went skiing this weekend. TikTok is rife with videos of protestors chanting, waving rainbow and Palestinian flags, and generally treating Vance like the unwelcome fucking pariah he is. The entitlement of this man to spit in the face of everything Vermonters value and then demand their service.

Sugarbush Snow Reporter Lucy Welch likely lost her job for getting political in the (now taken down) Saturday snow report. My dad was smart enough to copy the post, which I’ve included here. This is the end of the newsletter so up to you whether or not you want to read Welch’s diatribe:

Today of all days, I would like to reflect on what Sugarbush means to me. This mountain has brought me endless days of joy, adventure, challenges, new experiences, beauty, community, and peace. I’ve found that nothing cures a racing mind quite like skiing through the trees and stopping to take a deep breath of that fresh forest air. The world around us might be a scary place, but these little moments of tranquility, moments I’ve been fortunate enough to enjoy as a direct result of my employment here, give me, and I’d guess you, too, a sense of strength and stability.

This fresh forest air, is, more specifically fresh National Forest air. Sugarbush operates on 1745 acres of the Green Mountain National Forest. Right now, National Forest lands and National Parks are under direct attack by the current Administration, who is swiftly terminating the positions of dedicated employees who devote their lives to protecting the land we love, and to protecting us while we are enjoying that land. This Administration also neglects to address the danger, or even the existence of, climate change, the biggest threat to the future of our industry, and the skiing we all so much enjoy here. Burlington, VT is one of the fastest-warming cities in the country, and Vermont is the 9th fastest-warming state. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association (NOAA), a resource I use every day for snow reporting, is crucial in monitoring extreme weather events and informing public safety measures, and is also experiencing widespread layoffs and defunding at the hands of the Administration.

Sugarbush would not be Sugarbush without our wonderful community. Employees and patrons alike, we are made up of some of the most kind hearted, hardworking people I have ever met. Our community is rich with folks of all different orientations, ethnicities, and walks of life, who all contribute to make this place what it is. They all love Sugarbush because it is a place where they can come to move their bodies, to connect with the land, to challenge themselves, to build character, to nourish their souls with the gift of skiing. Many of these people are part of the LGBTQI+ community. Many (well, that’s a stretch, we all know this is an incredibly white-washed industry) are people of color. Half are women. Many are veterans or adaptive skiers who, through Vermont Adaptive, are able to access snow sports in part thanks to federal grants through the Department of Veterans Affairs, which is also facing devastating cuts.

Many of our beloved employees moved across the world through an exchange program on the J1 visa to help this resort run, and they are not US citizens. ALL of these groups are being targeted, undervalued, and disrespected by the current Administration. The beauty of National Forest land, is that anyone and everyone is welcome to enjoy it. Anyone and everyone can buy a lift ticket. I also imagine it is incredibly difficult, and likely impossible, to say “No” to the Secret Service. I hope that, instead of faulting Sugarbush management or employees for “allowing this to happen”, you can direct your anger to the source–the Administration that, in my oh-so-humble opinion, is threatening our democracy, our livelihoods, our land. I want to reiterate how much I admire and respect my fellow employees and managers–they work so hard to make this place operate, to keep you coming back and enjoying it and making lifelong memories. Many of them may feel the same way that I do, but their hands are tied, and for good reason. They have families to support, they have benefits and health insurance to receive, they face far greater and more binding pressure from Corporate. I am in a privileged position here, in that I work only seasonally, I do not rely on this job for health insurance or benefits, and hey, waking up at 4:30 AM isn’t exactly sustainable. Therefore, I am using my relative “platform” as snow reporter, to be disruptive—I don’t have a whole lot to lose. We are living in a really scary and really serious time. What we do or don’t do, matters. This whole shpiel probably won’t change a whole lot, and I can only assume that I will be fired, but at least this will do even just a smidge more than just shutting up and being a sheep. I am really scared for our future. Acting like nothing is happening here feels way scarier than losing my job. I want to have kids one day, and I want to teach them to ski. The policies and ideals of the current Administration, however, are not conducive to either of these things, because, at least how things look now, I’d never be able to afford a good life for a child anyway, and snow will be a thing of Vermont history. So please, for the sake of our future shredders: Be Better Here. It has truly been a pleasure writing your morning snow reports–I hope this one sticks with you. With love, peace, and hope, Lucy Welch