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andrewphelps.com went dark in 2006. Not forever, just for now. You can still look through years of archives, comments, and photos. You can also learn about Andrew Phelps.

2006

A few hours ago I got an unexpected phone call. It was a woman from Arizona. The woman told me she was on a wild goose chase for a particular Phelps who might answer some questions about her lineage. I actually get these calls kind of a lot, and I don’t mind them. She had found my Web site, and she loved my tribute to my dad.

We formed a good rapport right away. But soon it became clear that I wasn’t the man she needed. She was looking for a Phelps with roots in Minnesota. The woman thanked me for my time. I kept talking, asking questions about her search. I was happy to have someone on the other end, someone with a story, someone I could talk to. She remained polite but ready to hang up. So I let her go, wistfully, wishing her a happy new year.

A few minutes later I was standing in the shower, trying to put the year back together in my mind. What happened in 2006? Had I evolved? Could I go back in time, to December 31, 2005, and impress the younger me? In some ways, yes.

Back in July, following a truncated career in food service, I got a reporting job at KPBS. It has only been about six months, and already I’m working six, sometimes seven days a week. I’m on national airwaves about every week, and just the other day I got a complimentary word from the head honcho at NPR News. Yes, the Me of 2005 would be impressed with that.

The younger me would meet a man more confident, more stylish, more comfortable in his 2006 skin.

I have begun to discover some of the little things that remind me I’m getting older. I enjoy quiet time more. I enjoy sweet things less. I have a Christmas tree, for the first time. My crusade against the commercialization of the holiday has faded. I didn’t write a letter to Starbucks or boycott the company; in fact, I ordered a Gingerbread Latte in November. Early November. And even though I complain it’s silly for Southern Californians to decorate their homes in wintery white, I’m the only resident in my building with a snowman doormat from Crate & Barrel.

This was also a year for mending, with my stepfather Andrew and my stepsisters, Amory and Parke. After my mother remarried and moved to Chicago last year, I reflected on the strained formation of this new family. I felt angst and anger about what seemed like an insult to my dead father. At one time in 2005, I declared my relationship with my mother over.

The younger me would be relieved to know those days feel distant. My mother and I talk every day — a bit too much, maybe. And I have come to admire our Brady affair, to see us as family for the first time. Our second Christmas together, this time in San Diego, was not only tolerable but enjoyable. I’m not just relieved; I’m proud, because none of this could have worked until I opened my heart a bit.

More than anything I have described here, I will probably remember 2006 for one woman. The rise and fall of our complicated romance added years to my soul. For her, I resolve to defeat my inner demons in 2007.

“Maybe we can try it again,” she would sometimes say, “in a few years.”

Make some noise

Today is Election Day! Make sure to tune in to KPBS (89.5 FM) for superb local and national coverage. We’re live until 1 a.m.

San Diegans: Find your polling place. The polls close at 8 p.m.

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