Guest Post: The Gift of Rural North Dakota

After reading my thoughts about the Hazelton story, Troy had a great point about how sometimes a town just isn’t the right fit for you, so I asked him to write a guest post, which he very quickly did. He’s one of the funniest people I know, and as an all around great guy, you would think he could easily get along anywhere. I miss having him nearby, but sometimes, a family just has to go somewhere else. Go check him out over on Twitter and YouTube!

The Gift of Rural North Dakota

by: Troy Heidt

I grew up in rural areas all my life.   I always thought it was normal to have people looking in your shopping cart at the supermarket.   I thought that noticing rather or not your neighbor Cindy had her boyfriend’s car parked in front of her house all night was just the neighborly thing to do.   It’s even more neighborly if you exchange such information with your other friendly neighbors.   I learned that when someone offends you, the best way to deal with it is to just not speak to them for twenty or thirty years.   I learned how to be afraid of crowded places like a mall food court at noon, or The Denver Airport.   You can always tell us “rural” folks, we are the ones clutching our purses tightly or moving our wallets to our front pockets.

My wife grew up in Helena, Montana.  It was Montana’s capital city and she knew the joys of living by a Wal-Mart and going down the block for fast food.   She could shop without being watched.   She didn’t know most of her neighbors, so whoever was parked in front of their house was irrelevant. Her advice for offense is, “Get over it!”  She’s not freaked out by large groups of people and she doesn’t seem to be as self aware as most of the small town folk I know.

Marrying me was one of the hardest things my wife ever had to do.  Not just because I’m a self centered, lazy, and neglectful person- but she struggled because I brought her from a life of total freedom – to a life of total bondage.   She was forced to observe and live under the unwritten rules of rural society.

Some people thought she dressed funny.   Some people thought she talked funny.   Some folks thought it was funny that she wanted to go to McDonalds so badly.   She would get stares and backhanded questions when we first moved into our honeymoon town of 500 people that she hated.   She was looked at like a freak and the only thing she could think was, “Why are all these freaks, thinking I’m a freak!”   Life is a lot different when the minority becomes the majority and tells you that the way you live and the tastes you have are wrong!

The problem with our rural attitude is the fact that we don’t get as many chances to fail as more populated areas do.   Fat kids get to play on the basketball teams.   Loud and obnoxious people get to make decisions because we fear them.   People who dropped out of beauty school can still cut hair if you’re willing to sit in their kitchen and give them a “donation”.  You can be one of the rudest and most self centered people in town and still be a deacon at the local church.  We have a slide rule for family and friends and we let our amigos get away with murder.   If we don’t know you; we’ll run you out of our town for looking at us funny.

Now, I’m not against small town living.   I’ve lived in small towns my whole life.   I’ve even got my wife to come around to small town thinking.   We had a lady move into our town a couple of years ago and she’d come from a bigger place.   She had the answers to all of our problems!   She ended up moving back to where she came from after a year and a half of not being able to fix us.   I can’t say we were all that sad to see her leave. After she left we incorporated some of the changes she’d suggested.  They worked really well- but we weren’t going to let an “outsider” come in and show us up!

In a small town they say it takes up to five years before people begin to “accept” you- let alone respect you!   Most of us just don’t want to invest that much time into trying to impress people who really don’t impress us all that much.   On top of the battle to just prove you are a person, let alone a good one, we have harsh elements and scarce resources. There are two types of people who move into rural areas- people who get there and fall in love with the culture and area in spite of the hardships, and people who realize in the face of a culture shock: this isn’t my cup of tea.

I didn’t mind small town North Dakota all that much, but it wasn’t where I could best serve my purpose.   The problem with the whole Hazelton row is how it’s being handled.   Hazelton isn’t a bad place, it’s no different than any other small town.   The family from Florida that moved there just had to get away for awhile to realize that Hazelton wasn’t their home.   They had elderly loved ones who needed them and they had a different culture in their heart.   They will now go back to Florida and have more respect and appreciation for their home than they ever had before.   That’s a gift that the people of North Dakota have given them that will last them a lifetime.   I know, because it’s the same gift they gave to me.

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Small Town Outsiders: Embrace The Change

By now, you’ve probably read the story of the Tristani family, who are ready to leave Small Town, USA, just 4 years after moving there. I strongly suspect there’s a lot more to the story than what is being told though. Were there people in Hazelton, ND, who were unwelcoming to this very strange family from South Florida? Certainly. Were there some in Hazelton who were warm, cordial, and glad to have new people in town? More than likely. Are elderly parents one of the reasons they’re moving back to Miami? Yes.

Yet, there are some things that we can all take to the bank from this story. Small Town people are notoriously resistant to change, after all, this town was fine when their kids were in high school 40 years ago, and it isn’t dead yet, so surely everything is fine, right?

Old History

Small towns across the USA are a tightly knit group. They’ve been around each other for a long time, have a plethora of inside jokes, know each others extended families, and know what topics around town just don’t get talked about. New people upset the balance they are accustomed to. They don’t laugh at jokes when everyone else does, constantly ask who you’re referring to, and cause quite a disturbance when they ask why you don’t change something. You probably should change something, but you’re dug so far into your rut that you don’t know it.

Different Lifestyle

When you leave one part of the US, and move to a completely different part of the US, don’t expect to fit in. The midwest isn’t known for being flashy. Guys are more likely to wear flannel and drive a pickup than to sport a rolex and cruise in a luxury car. Ladies are more likely to wear tight jeans and a close fitting shirt than to walk around in a mini skirt and exposing most of the skin above their waist. There are definitely exceptions, but when you roll into town, don’t be surprised if you’re a culture shock.

New Activities

While the larger towns may feature bars that often have live bands and lots of dancing, clubbing isn’t something that we tend to have as an option. Small Town, USA, is more likely to find a large crowd at the football game Friday night, a party at an old farm yard or river bend, driving around (quite possibly mud running), or chilling in a friend’s basement. There’s really no shortage of things to entertain yourself with, we’re just more likely to create it than just stroll in somewhere, expecting everything to already be ready to go for a good time.

All Small Towns Are Not Created Equal

When Hazelton offered lots and cash to move there, and more incentives to open a business there, it was a bold move. When a town stubbornly resists change it’s like rolling over with a whimper and playing dead, until somebody realizes you’re only pretending and finishes you off. I wish my hometown would try something as audacious as providing incentives to move there. Bigger towns frequently roll out the tax breaks and other perks to attract businesses. Small towns need to realize a business with tax breaks gets you more money than no business.

It’s very possible that there are much more friendly towns than Hazelton, but I guarantee there are also less friendly towns. I’ve done a little work in Hazelton, I’ve hung out with people from Hazelton. I even spent a year in Iraq with a Hazelton native. They’re good people, hard working folks who get the job done and go home to their families at night. Could they do more to be more open and inviting to new people? Well, couldn’t every small town? Couldn’t every family? Couldn’t their next door neighbor?

The fact remains that no matter where you go, there will be some unfriendly people. If you quickly adapt to the new culture, that will go a long way towards your acceptance. Not that you should have to change, diversity is good for any town. But if you have a fancy car and wear a lot of flashy jewelry in a town dominated by agriculture, you might want to at least tone it down a notch. Besides, don’t you tend to dress a little differently when you go on vacation?

Perhaps we should all consider forming a welcome wagon committee, meeting monthly to dream up new ways we can be more inviting and helpful to new families. In the past 15 years my hometown went from having its own school to sharing resources with the next town to shutting down our school when we merged with the other town in the county. One county, from 3 schools to 1, and the discussion continues for how long they’ll be able to do that until they must merge with yet another school. Can we afford to be the reason people don’t stay?

Help them unpack. Invite them over for dinner. Embrace their diversity while helping them acclimate to your culture. Show them around town. Encourage them to get involved with local organizations. Don’t make national news for being unfriendly. Whether you actually are isn’t known to me, but it’s the kind of bad press that’s hard to overcome.

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I’m A Creative Type, How About You?

Before you read any further, you should take this short and free color test.

Not a day goes by that I don’t click on an excellent link from @GuyKawasaki, and this afternoon I was led to this USA Today article. It’s been obvious to me for awhile that I march to tbe beat of a idfferent drum, so I was eager to see what this test would say about me.

Best Occupational Category

You’re a CREATOR

Keywords

Nonconforming, Impulsive, Expressive, Romantic, Intuitive, Sensitive, and Emotional

These original types place a high value on aesthetic qualities and have a great need for self-expression. They enjoy working independently, being creative, using their imagination, and constantly learning something new. Fields of interest are art, drama, music, and writing or places where they can express, assemble, or implement creative ideas.

CREATOR OCCUPATIONS
Suggested careers are Advertising Executive, Architect, Web Designer, Creative Director, Public Relations, Fine or Commercial Artist, Interior Decorator, Lawyer, Librarian, Musician, Reporter, Art Teacher, Broadcaster, Technical Writer, English Teacher, Architect, Photographer, Medical Illustrator, Corporate Trainer, Author, Editor, Landscape Architect, Exhibit Builder, and Package Designer.

CREATOR WORKPLACES
Consider workplaces where you can create and improve beauty and aesthetic qualities. Unstructured, flexible organizations that allow self-expression work best with your free-spirited nature.

Suggested Creator workplaces are advertising, public relations, and interior decorating firms; artistic studios, theaters and concert halls; institutions that teach crafts, universities, music, and dance schools. Other workplaces to consider are art institutes, museums, libraries, and galleries.

2nd Best Occupational Category

You’re an ORGANIZER

Keywords:

Self-Control, Practical, Self-Contained, Orderly, Systematic, Precise, and Accurate

These conservative appearing, plotting-types enjoy organizing, data systems, accounting, detail, and accuracy. They often enjoy mathematics and data management activities such as accounting and investment management. Persistence and patience allows them to do detailed paperwork, operate office machines, write business reports, and make charts and graphs.

As I read through the results, and thought about past jobs I’ve had and what I like to do now, they seem to be spot on. I love creating things, and when I’m designing things, whether a web site or a brochure, I look at the finest details of various fonts so I can find just the right one. At the same time, the less rigid the work environment, the more likely I am to not only enjoy it, but be more productive.

When I look at the recommended careers, it should come as no surprise that over the past few years, through some form or another, I’ve had significant experiences in advertising, web design, public relations, music, reporting, photography, corporate training, editing, and concert halls.  I find myself continuously pursuing opportunities that allow me to be creative and solve unique problems.

Perhaps this is why some people have such a hard time understanding and connecting with me. I have a tendency to do random and completely unorthodox things simply because I can. I resist a typical 9 to 5 not just because I lose a lot of flexibility to do other things, but because that’s what everyone else does.

It’s also likely why I can sometimes struggle to communicate with others. I have a tendency to see the big picture and where something is headed, but I see it so far ahead of others that I don’t know how to explain it all to them in terms they can understand. Maybe that why I enjoy Twitter so much, it’s filled with other people are creative, see what’s coming before others do, and all the while try to find the next big thing.

Go ahead, take the quick color test, then take a moment to comment below. What does it reveal about you? Do you think it’s fairly accurate?

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Guest Post: My Brother, My Hero

Growing up, I wasn’t a shining example of how to act for my brothers and sister. While not the constant source of trouble that many kids are in high school, I didn’t exactly shy away from it either. Yesterday I wrote a post on the 5th anniversary of returning to ND. Today, I present to you an essay my sister wrote her freshman year of college (dated October 20, 2005). I probably would never have found out about this had her professor not wanted to publish it in something. She doesn’t know I’m posting this, but it’s still special to me, and I think some of you might like it too.

My Brother, My Hero

by: Heidi Kirsch

If someone had asked me the question “What do you think of your older brother?” two years ago, I would have said, “I love him, but I don’t particularly like him.” Two years ago, Shawn, an average college freshman, attended Mayville State University. Twenty-three months ago, his sergeant called him, saying their company was on alert for deployment to Iraq. Twenty months ago, my family and I said goodbye and left Shawn in Fort Carson, Colorado, a few days before he left for “the big sandbox.” Shawn returned from Iraq eight months ago, after a one-year tour of duty with the 141st Engineer Combat Battalion of the North Dakota Army National Guard. Some people who knew him quite well before he left say he is a changed man, and, in some ways, I can see that; however, some things never change.

When he returned from Iraq, I saw some changes in Shawn’s lifestyle and habits, but some days, I couldn’t help but smile when aspects of his old being came shining through his tough, sun-baked exterior. When I said goodbye to him in February 2004, he was a risk taker, a kid of average intelligence who wasn’t overly ambitious, and a guy with little job experience; however, when he returned, he was a man who seemed kinder and gentler, exhibited a new brand of wisdom, and held the experience of an occupation unlike any other–and I like this version of Shawn a lot better than the previous.

In his high school years, Shawn spent a great deal of time arguing with my parents. Due to his job as a truck driver, my dad was usually only home on weekends, so all the negative discussions Shawn and my mom had during the week were revisited when Dad returned. I can recall one particular instance where Shawn’s argumentative, rebellious side was displayed. The night before his graduation, Shawn returned home very late. He had been in Dickinson with his friend, Matt. Shawn would have gone alone, but his license had been taken away when he was caught driving 113 miles per hour in a zone marked 65 [ed. Actually, I got my license back the day before]. Matt’s parents, who just happen to be the school superintendent and his wife, called my parents, worrying about their son. When Shawn and Matt returned home around midnight, my dad threw a fit. I had been sleeping pretty well up until that point, but when Dad started yelling, I woke up. He told Shawn, in a horribly loud voice, he needed to apologize to Matt’s parents before he walked across the stage at graduation in the afternoon. This incident upset me quite a bit, probably because my brother was going to leave home soon, and I hated thinking about the possibility of him never coming back because of the unstable relationship he shared with Mom and Dad. If I had only known what was around the corner, I wouldn’t have gotten so upset over this small matter.

When he returned after spending a year in Iraq, Shawn acted much better than he did before he left; he stopped arguing so much and kept his thoughts to himself. I believe the twelve months away from home made him realize how fortunate he is to have a family, especially one that cares about him. He still argues with Mom and Dad, but their fighting is less frequent. Shawn cares more about my brothers and me as well. He lets us borrow some of his things and maintains composure when a situation turns out opposite of what he had hoped for. I know the possibility of Shawn getting upset still exists, but it takes a bit more prodding to evoke a yelling and screaming match these days.

Shawn’s risk-taking side may have played a role in how he behaved in high school as well. He never applied himself as much as he could. He possessed the capability to get As and Bs in his classes, but he chose not to put forth the effort to get those grades and instead, got Cs and Ds [ed. It was Bs and Cs, but no, I didn't care]. I suppose it never bothered Shawn too much, but it hurt me to see him not do as well as I knew he could. I looked up to him, and his not doing his best made me doubt whether or not I should want to be like him.

When he returned, however, Shawn held a new brand of wisdom, a kind of intelligence shared only by those who had been with him in the Middle East. The news reporters, try as they may, lack the knowledge of what is really happening. We only see what they want us to see, but the soldiers know the inside story. Shawn, when given a start on the subject, speaks of the few close calls he had while on patrol, the high numbers of specific groups of Iraqi people we think are minorities, the fun the soldiers had, and the good that was done despite being in a bad situation. No one other than a solder can ever truly describe what the war in Iraq is like. I consider myself lucky to know a person so close to me who voluntarily shares his experiences and knowledge of the war of this generation.

Given the education he had before leaving, Shawn, like many other teenagers in my hometown, had little choice when it came to jobs [ed. Actually had a tremendous amount of self education, but didn't have access to the technology to use that knowledge until college]. No one needs anyone to work for them, but there are some people willing to offer jobs to people they trust. Reggie, the youth leader at my church, gave Shawn a job on his farm. Shawn spent the summers of 2002 and 2003 working in the fields and around the farmyard. I think he enjoyed the work, but he couldn’t complain when he earned the amount of money he did. Being a farmhand was a good job for Shawn, but he needed experience doing something else; little did he know he was in for the job experience of a lifetime.

In Iraq, Shawn’s platoon held the responsibility of finding improved explosive devices (IEDs) on and along the roads, collecting them, and setting them off in a safer location. While some soldiers searched for IEDs, others watched for the enemy, ready to fire at them in a moment’s notice. During his first month in Iraq, Shawn e-mailed us his account of what had happened on one day’s mission. He had been looking for roadside bombs from the front of his humvee when a missile shot across the hood of the vehicle. Had the vehicle been going any faster, it would have gone through the front driver’s side window, in all likelihood, causing multiple fatalities. This was the sign those of us at home were praying for–the way we would know God was watching over our troops, especially Shawn. My brother also felt the excitement and power of being a gunner while he was in Iraq. On his birthday, he was chosen to be the shooter when they went on patrol [ed. This wasn't unusual, I was usually a gunner on mission]. When we heard this story, we asked Shawn if he killed anyone. He told us that they never went back to check, but he knew that his group avoided being hit because the Iraqis are “lousy shots.” Shawn, in addition to his “fun,” felt the pain of losing a fellow soldier when one man from his platoon died after being wounded [ed. From my company, but from a different platoon]. Being a soldier allowed him to catch a glimpse of real life–the life behind the scenes of the war.

Shawn has changed in many ways, but the most obvious change is that he has become a veteran. He is also, in my mind, a hero. He did not do anything special to make him better than any other soldier, but the fact that he willingly served our country makes him a hero in my eyes.

By recognizing the ways Shawn has changed, I can better understand why he behaves the way he does, and by doing so, help him. If I realize when he is in a “mood,” I know to avoid him and let him figure things out on his own. If he starts talking about something of which I have no knowledge, I know not to question his intelligence. Finally, if he talks about his experience as a soldier, I know to listen, so I learn all I can about what he went through.

If asked now what I think about Shawn, I would say, “I love him, but I’m still working on liking him.” Comedian Mark Lowry sums it up well when he says, “There are some people you love who you just don’t like. You know who they are. You’ll cry at their funeral, but you won’t go on vacation with them.” I feel the same way about Shawn right now, but as time goes on, I am certain I will begin to like him more fore who he is–my brother, my hero.

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Veteran, 5 Years Home

5 years. I can hardly believe it’s been that long. The older one gets, the faster time flies by.

High School

7 years ago, I was a senior in high school. 18 years old, doing the things you need to do to get ready for college, having fun with friends, playing drums in pep band, starting on the basketball team and getting ready for the quickly approaching district tournaments, with legitimate hopes of making the state tournament (though we ultimately came up short). That summer I would return to Missouri for AIT, the part of training that comes after basic.

College

So I graduated, went to AIT, worked for a couple weeks, then took off for school, away from my parents, on my own, with a plan for how the next few years of my life were going to happen. I quickly gained new friends, got involved with Campus Crusade, I was having a ton of fun, loving life, and the plan was off to a great start. Then we got to the end of October, and God started to intervene, by way of telephone.

It was almost Halloween, and I was being informed that we were on notice that we could go to Iraq. Not that we were going, just that it was more likely. Being a never ending optimist, I thought ok, but never once seriously believed I’d be going to Iraq.

Wednesday, November 26, 2003

It was Thanksgiving Eve, and I was hanging out in the dorm. The next day I would be going to Jamestown for Thanksgiving dinner at grandma’s house with a lot of cousins. But on this night, I would get another call. “Shawn, we’re going to Iraq.” Reality would slowly begin to set in as I realized ‘my plan’ was being interrupted. So, being a college guy that just received life changing news, I did the only logical thing. Grabbed a buddy, hopped in the car, drove to Grand Forks and didn’t really do anything. Grabbed some food, drove around town, visited some car lots, sat in a Nissan 350Z (my dream car at the time).

So began the journey to Iraq. Like the other students, I took finals early so I could get home and do some final prep for our all expense paid trip to foreign lands.  I enjoyed Christmas with family, getting a lot of presents that I’ve never used (just because I go to Iraq doesn’t mean I’m going to suddenly start playing cards), and receiving a never ending deluge of ‘we’ll be thinking of you.’

Training

Shortly after Christmas, we all met at our various armories, and the 141st Engineer Battalion would proceed to load onto buses, heading for Colorado to train. In true North Dakota fashion, we left in the middle of a blizzard. We stayed at Fort Carson for several weeks, doing desert training in the snow, then made our way across the Atlantic and down into the middle east.

Iraq

We briefly spent some time in Kuwait, where we learned we would not be working as carpenters, but would be driving around looking for IEDs (roadside bombs). We quickly went to work reinforcing  all of our vehicles, because the Army was dealing with a backlog of requests for supplies, and we weren’t about to wait around for stuff to keep us safe. A large group of farmers doesn’t take long to weld up steel boxes, which I was very thankful for during our ambushes as I heard the bullets pinging off it around me.

Long story short, almost all of us came back safely. We went through a lot of ambushes, saw a lot of stuff blow up, did a lot of work around our FOB to help keep people safe, but most importantly, efficiently kept the roads clear for the hundreds of military vehicles that daily passed by.

February 4, 2005

Mom received a phone call at 4 am, as the kind people at a small airport in Maine were gracious enough to show up at 6 am and let us use their phones. “Good morning, Mom, I’m in Maine. I’ll be home soon.” A few hours later we would land back in Colorado, step off the plane to the sight of McDonalds logos everywhere, cheeseburgers for all!

I opted not to come home for 2 weeks leave during our year in Iraq, so they put me on the first plane home. Just in time for the Superbowl, and somebody pulled some strings, convincing some people to come in on the weekend and push through our debriefing period. This kept everything moving and just 4 days later, we would leave Colorado.

Tuesday, February 8, 2005

I had asked my parents not to tell anybody I was coming home, though I think everybody figured it out anyway. I was hoping to surprise people. We landed in Bismarck that afternoon, went through the welcome home line with a bunch of Generals and Majors from several military branches, and of course Governor Hoeven and some of his staff. We reached the end of the stairs and looked down at a large crowd of people there to welcome us home, with signs, balloons, cheers, hugs, handshakes, and tears. I found Dad and we took off. We made a quick trip to the mall to grab some things I wanted, and all the looks from everyone that came with that. When you’re dressed in desert camo, and have a good tan the beginning of February, people in ND tend to notice.

We started the trek home, stopping in Carson on the way. My youngest brother had a basketball game that day, so we stopped in to say hi to him and Mom. I was eager to get home though, so we didn’t stay long, and soon I’d find my other brother and sister at home. For the first time in over a year, our family had supper together, all of us at the table again.

My Plan Still Doesn’t Work

I thought my plan would now resume, finishing college and rolling on to whatever came after that, but God had other plans. College became so boring, and I wasn’t learning anything, so I only did 1 year after we got back. In the span of time since, I picked up 2 new MOSs in the National Guard, and worked a variety of jobs, including farm work, filling anhydrous ammonia tanks, electrician, computer repair, web design, basketball coach, youth leader, internet web app bug testing, and more.

Through it all, I’ve seen God’s presence at my side. I’ve made more than my fair share of mistakes, some of which I’m still paying for, and will be paying for a few years yet. College still crosses my mind, but I first need to settle in on a direction to take with it. But through all the ups and downs, my needs have been taken care of. There’s a lot of wants that would have been nice to have, but I’m surviving, one day at a time, and involved in a variety of things that I love.

There are several things floating around my mind for a few years now that I’d love to do, whether God allows me to do them or not remains to be seen. I think some of them will work out, because I continually see developments that are like pieces of a puzzle fitting together, small steps leading up to the grand prize. I have a ton of fantastic friends, both to hang out with every week, and to chat with online, Twitter has connected me to some amazing people from around the world. I see God at work in my life, even as I continue to mess it up. There are great people around me to challenge me and call me out when I do something stupid, or encourage me when I need it most.

Iraq was an interruption to Shawn’s plan. The 5 years since have been crazy, but it seems God has me right where he wants me, and keeps throwing things in front of me where I can put my skill set to fantastic use. I hope everyone reading this can remember that no matter what comes your way, God is working in it, whether you realize it or not. When your whole world gets turned upside down, it might be so you wind up in a certain place, at exactly the right time. For me, it seems to be Bismarck, ND, in position to help a variety of people move forth in things they have started, but were needing someone to lighten the load, to help them take the next step, to encourage them, and inspire. I hope you come along for the ride and help us too.

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Officially Use Bitly Pro

The other day I wrote about my little work around to use my short url with Bitly, but now Pro is officially here!

Verifying my short url was a snap, I adjusted the A Record a few days ago. It was slightly troublesome to verify the url to track, the html file that I downloaded to add to my site didn’t work, so I finally want to adjust the cname. After several agonizing minutes (I’m an anxious geek, I want to play wi SQUIRREL!), it finally verified, I threw a link into Tweetdeck, and yippee! It works, just as advertised.

Sadly, we do not yet have the option to customize the shortened url further, as you can with the regular bit.ly. So for now, I couldn’t take my post about dating conduct and shorten it to something like http://ttdu.de/dating. No big deal for most, but as I roll out some pages with specific content, I’d like to make a shortened url very specific to that page, regardless of title length. Mostly so I could remember shortened urls at a moments notice for tweeting purposes, rather than having to copy and paste again.

Anyway, bitly.pro is here, and I hope you take the time to check it out. I’m excited to shorten links that can be traced to me at a glance.

When you see something with http://ttdu.de/ in it, you can bet it came from me.

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Use Bit.ly Pro Now

Many of us woke up this morning to an email from Bit.ly. In it contained instructions to change the A Record for our short url. Eager to begin using the Pro features, I eagerly changed it, then checked my Bit.ly account. Nothing looked different, I shortened a couple urls, still had the bit.ly domain on them.

Well, that confusion was cleared up in a 2nd email tonight. The Bit.ly Pro site should roll out later this week.

The DNS settings (A-Record or CNAME) detailed in the previous email are steps you can take before the site launches. Sorry if our last email was unclear, and thanks for your patience!

Being the impatient geek that I am though, I learned a trick earlier today. You can start using Bit.ly Pro now. We don’t have access to the official site yet, but we can use our domain.

I purchased ttdu.de nearly a month ago, which now that I’ve changed the A Record, redirects to bit.ly. But if you manually adjust it, it already works with shortned urls. Take my post from earlier this week, Proper Date Conduct: How To Treat Ladies Right. It shortens to bit.ly/9vIf24. But if you swap in ttdu.de for bit.ly, leaving you with ttdu.de/9vIf24, you’ll find that it still goes to the right post. 

There is a catch though. I have found that when putting it into Tweetdeck, it will still take it and shorten it into a bit.ly url. The trick there is to add your custom url by itself, and then add the http:// in front of it.

I still eagerly await the full featured back end, but for now, I can start using my custom url.

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