I started writing Monday Memo almost exactly nine years ago. This is the final Monday Memo.
In the beginning, Monday Memo consisted of a news item and "Wally's Comment." Over the years, it went through several different changes until it became what it is today. It was a great basket in which to collect the pieces of my life and interests.
I got to write about interesting and amazing people. Some of those people were famous, like Steve Jobs and Howard Dean and David Brinkley.
Several of them were just fascinating. I got to write about Ron Popeil and his amazing infomercials, and Malcolm McLean, inventor of the cargo container.
I got special joy from writing about people who didn't get the recognition I thought they deserved. One of them was Peter de Jager.
Peter de Jager was a programmer and futurist. While nobody else seemed to notice, he figured out that we could have a major, worldwide mess on our hands when computers designed to handle two-digit years rolled into a new century on January 1, 2000.
Peter became the Paul Revere of the Millennium Bug. In articles, and speeches and interviews he urged us to pay attention to a looming threat. Folks finally took notice. Around the globe millions of lines of computer code were changed in time and the rollover turned out to be a non-event. We have Peter to thank.
Then there was Dan Nigro. Dan was a career firefighter. He was Chief of Operations in the New York Fire Department on September 11, 2001 when the World Trade Center towers came down and killed his friend, Peter Ganci. Days later, Dan got Peter's job.
He became Chief of Department, the highest uniformed rank there is in New York. Then, without the fanfare, flash, or bluster, of so many public figures, he set about the daunting task of healing and rebuilding the department he loves.
I also got to write about people I admired. There was my father, most of all, but also folks like Steven Jay Gould, Al McGuire, Marvin Bowers, and my friend, Deb Haggerty.
Naturally, because businesses provide so much of the energy of what goes on in our world, I wrote a lot about a lot of them. My favorites included the pieces on Harley-Davidson, McDonald's, Ford, and Semco.
It was important to me to say, over and over, that values and principles shouldn't change, just because we're in the Digital Age. That's why I had to write about Enron and the scandals and many other issues of the day.
Many of those issues involve ethics and how we deal with one another. So I wrote about things like courtesy and trust, and about historical events like the First World War's legendary Christmas truces and about my own family and relationships. I wrote about historical forces, like the malling of America and about new problems like the rise in American obesity.
There were other, specifically Digital Age, stories that were fun. We've talked about phishing, and spam, and piracy and the network computer that wasn't. But we also talked about e-books and personal selling in the Digital Age and many of the ways that Digital technology has infused and enveloped our world.
Monday Memo, for me, has been all about how human beings wrestle with the angel of the Digital Age. It's true that we face some unique challenges. But we also face the same challenges that human beings have always faced. That's why today, as always, we look for heroes.
I got to write about people who were heroes, whether they were giant, larger-than-life public heroes or quiet behind-the-scenes heroes. I also wrote about the imaginary cowboy heroes, who inspired me and the father who set the example for me.
All of this has been great fun. It has been a wonderful intellectual exercise. Increasingly, though, Monday Memo and its weekly 2000 words has become an investment of time and energy that takes time from other important things in my business and my life. In the last few months, I've become worried that Monday Memo would soon become a chore.
That would break my covenant with you. You expect good writing and careful research and creative thought. I wanted to quit Monday Memo while I could still deliver those things joyfully.
So what will happen now? Monday Memo as you've known it will close up shop. This as the last issue. But the spirit of Monday Memo will live on in Postcards from the Digital Age.
That's the name of a radio commentary that I started doing about five years ago. It originates on public radio, WHQR, in Wilmington, North Carolina. The topics on Postcards and on Monday Memo have been similar.
Monday Memo has had longer features, its own Web site, sections for Thought Starters, I'm Not Making This Up, Snippets and Resources and it has been emailed to you weekly. Postcards from the Digital Age has had Web presence, but nothing else. Postcard features have been about half the length of those in Monday Memo.
Starting this week, Postcards from the Digital Age will be mailed to you weekly, usually on Monday night. It will consist of a short feature article and a resource section. You'll receive your first issue tomorrow, about Google and its Initial Public Offering.
The Monday Memo site will stay up for at least a year, longer than that if it's getting visitors and use. I'll also, finally, put together a book of favorite Monday Memo features.
Monday Memo has been a star of joy in my sky these last nine years, and you have been among the reasons. There was the intellectual challenge and satisfaction of wrestling with issues and deadlines to be sure, but mostly it was the notes and feedback I got from you that made the whole effort worthwhile.
I hope you'll stay with me as a subscriber to Postcards from the Digital Age; but whether you do or not, I wish you great joy and prosperity, and I close this chapter of my professional life with a heart overflowing with gratitude for the blessings you have given me. Thank you for letting me come into your life every week for these last nine years.