Introducing Our New Name: Tilting West

The old handle for this column has been retired. Here’s why.

Welcome. Today’s Substack will be different than the usual because I want to tell you about a change that is taking place. Starting next week, we will publish under a new name: Tilting West. The old handle of “Favorite Things” will be no more.

There is nothing for you to do. Your subscription will continue to arrive weekly in your email box as always. All  you need to do is sit back and enjoy the new approach and content. 

So why the change? If you’ll indulge me for a moment, I’ll explain. When I started this column I really had no idea where I was going with it. Now, three months and 12 editions later, I have a stronger sense of the path I am on. In my road-happy Toyota truck—first generation Tacoma, 2004, built in Fremont, California at the old NUMMI factory, 268,000 miles on the odometer and still running smooth as a fine timepiece—I carry with me a card I picked up from Santuario de Chimayo in the hills outside Santa Fe. 

The Santuario is an ancient chapel and holy site for Catholics around the world. They make pilgrimages there to pray and worship and visit a tiny dark room that is off the main chapel. In the back of the room is where the holy dirt is kept. This soil is said to have divine properties that can heal the sick and the injured and protect those in mortal risk. Pilgrims quietly gather the moist earth into small bags to take home with them.

On the way out of the room I saw a table with cards on it. They were plain white business cards with the p.o. box of the Santuario and its online address in small type at the bottom. At the top, in larger bold-face lettering, it read, “Live your life as a pilgrim not as a tourist.”

I did not take any dirt but I did bring home this card. Its message resonated with me even though I’m a tourist and love being a tourist. Being a tourist is fun. But I also feel I have a bit of the pilgrim in me. I’m not afraid not to know where I’m going. Sometimes that’s where I most like to be.

Here’s another quote I like. It’s from the great Yosemite big wall climber and Patagonia founder, Yvon Chouinard, who said in his cranky, crusty old mountaineer way, “When the first screw-up occurs, that’s when the adventure begins.” Those are the stories I love, the best stories to read and write in my view—people screwing up, losing their way, and the adventure that follows.

Welcome to my new Substack. 

“Favorite Things” became a sort of Procrustean bed for me. You know about Procrustes? He was a figure from Greek mythology who welcomed travelers into his home. The fun and games began when they lay down for the night on his iron bed. If they were too long for the bed he’d saw their legs off so they’d fit the way he liked. If they were too short he’d tie them to a rack and stretch their bodies out to make them longer. Travel tip: Never book an Airbnb from anyone named Procrustes.

But that’s what the old column was starting to feel like—that there wasn’t enough room to stretch out anymore. For instance, lots of promising things are happening behind the scenes with my book Operation Bullpen and the making—or not making—of it into a documentary TV series. Now I feel I can comfortably share those stories.

The other thing is, I felt a vague unease that what I was writing lacked grounding, that it needed a stronger sense of place. Thus, the title Tilting West. I’m a lifelong California boy who knows this state from north to south, and east to west. What’s more, in my trusty Tacoma and other modes of transportation I’ve bumpety-bumped around Alaska, western Canada, and a dozen states in the west and southwest. So why not dig into those life experiences and write about them as well?

Tilting West will be more personal but also have a broader range, touching on bigger issues when it seems relevant. At least that’s my aim. But rest assured that one narrative thread we will continue to unwind is the favorite things of interesting people like you; we’ll just approach it from a different angle. Or tilt.

Despite a shocking, sorrowful run in which four solid friends of mine have died all in the past four months, my life is filled to the brim and overflowing, in a good way. One of the good things is writing this Substack. But really, there is no Substack without you. So thank you again for your support and if you ever feel like sharing something you read here with a friend, it won’t hurt my feelings a bit. Brace yourself. Next week Tilting West strides out resolutely on its unknown path forward. Onward, pilgrims!