Thursday, October 28, 2010

Holding Pattern


Things are moving right along in Stamper-land, but never as quickly as I hope they will. We have made significant strides towards downsizing. Got rid of the much-cherished 1970 VW camper bus. We have owned it since the mid-90's and it has tons of great memories for us. If that car absorbed good vibrations, it should be a pretty happy vehicle for someone. Practically gave it away, but that's what you need to do to re-home things in this fantastic "new economy" we find ourselves in. We want things to go to people who actually appreciate what they are getting. I think we have accomplished that mission so far, at least for the most part. Try digging from the "Craigslist" pool to make that happen--not a small task, I can assure you. A few other items have left the property. No huge money-making going on. The profit is in the fact that it has a new home somewhere else in the universe. I take comfort in that.

Fifer is safely tucked away in a new slip in the same shipyard (Tom-Mac, Richmond, B.C.) marina as she has been residing in for a few years. She is in a far safer place than she was for the last few Winters--right in the Fraser River at the very edge of the marina. Logs and barges freely collided with her in that spot, in which she sustained some fairly significant damage to her starboard side. Her new place is right in the heart of the marina, far from traveling barges and giant logs being hauled up the river.
We have completed a considerable amount of work since we bought her in March. The engines are in, the shafting in in place, the transmissions are ready to connect. We also replacing her old and ailing battery system with a new 24-volt set up. Much better and more reliable. The guys in the shipyard make sure everything is well taken care of, but a bilge pumping system that isn't working is just asking for trouble. I will, at a minimum, sleep better knowing that water is not in her bilges. We have also ripped off the problem area on her roof (over the engine compartment) and are getting ready in the next couple of weeks to replace the wood and repair all the damaged areas. The shipwrights at Tom-Mac are fantastic, and have really done great work to get her back up to where she needs to be. They re-did some seams on her hull that needed replacing. This process consists of figuring out which seams are weeping, then tearing out all the old caulk and cotton, then replacing it with new--this time they re-did it in cement. It was beautifully done and should last many years. As I painted the bottom a few weeks ago before she went back in the water from the last haul-out, I looked at how gorgeous the work was. It seemed a shame to it cover up...(yes, I "geek-out" with this boat stuff).
We were going to make the mad-dash to have Fifer down here this Winter, but the further we got towards our deadline, the crazier the idea seemed. We still have so much more to do, and that's not just Fifer I'm talking about. The house still needs to be readied to sell in the Spring, and all this fantastic crap we've collected over the years still needs to go. It's a daunting task, and I try not to get overwhelmed with it all.
All this work hasn't left a whole lot of time for socializing and recreation. Friends have been left by the wayside to some extent, and I'm still trying to figure out balance while feeling like I'm going insane! Friends are necessary to give perspective at times like this. I have been pretty unavailable, and I know that the situation is far from ideal. When I eventually get out and interact with people I enjoy being around, I'm never sorry. Now that I'm blogging again, I'll share some of the feelings I have about what things I feel like I'm giving up in order to give ourselves a better quality of life. It's work, this downsizing and prioritizing. I vacillate between feeling great about this complete overhaul of life, and feeling totally overwhelmed.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Where the Fuck Did Summer Go?


Alright, so I haven't blogged since March.....if it counts for anything, I've been thinking about blogging. Basically all we've done all Summer is work, work, work. We were either in Canada working on Fifer (the new boat, 68 1/2 foot 1928 motor yacht), or here stateside working on Molly (the 1957 Owens Flagship Cruiser that we have owned for 4 years--ready to sell now). It was an uphill battle for everything--and while I can't say for certain that we've won the war, I feel like we've made it across a couple of battlefields at least.
Since we do everything ourselves, you just have to sort of start the work and keep on going until completion. Vince handles the mechanicals, and I handle the bright work and trim. Ben helps a lot on the bright work, but since he had a job this Summer, it was mostly up to me. This goes both for Fifer and Molly--on Fifer we have gotten the engines placed into the boat the Summer, along with the transmissions. This week the shafting and props should be installed. There is also a pesky leak along the garboard that will be fixed.

When I say, "engines installed," it really oversimplifies the whole process that went down. Transporting the engines was the first step. 3 tons a piece, they were sitting for several years in the back of a tire warehouse some miles away from the shipyard where Fifer currently resides. It's not like you can rent a U-Haul and move the engines yourself--3 ton engines, and 1 ton transmissions take heavy-hauling equipment. We managed to find a shipping outfit that was willing to move the engines at a price that we could afford, and the man in charge of the move was aptly named, "Justin Case"....Justin Case, indeed. We made the move of the engines to the shipyard for less than $300. We also emptied the storage unit full of parts/pieces/and equipment as well, moving all the contents to Tom-Mac (shipyard). I found out after the engines got to the yard on the back of the semi-truck flatbed that they had been "teetering" a little around corners. That was a moment I was glad I had thought beating the truck to the yard would be better than following it. I would have crapped my pants watching that.

The engines sat on the docks for a few weeks after we moved them there. We spent a weekend steam-cleaning the engine compartment and bilges to get ready for the engines to be installed. Vince bought a steam cleaner last year for a couple of hundred bucks on Craigslist. It was pretty much toast, so he spent a few months rebuilding it, getting it back together. It took a LONG time to clean out 80 years on oil and sludge out of Fifer! It had definitely never been done before, but in order to properly clean the compartment for painting there was no other way. Once clean, it was easy to apply the paint. I spent hours and hours huffing paint this Summer, I can't say it was a particularly effective or enjoyable way to get high. It looked great, and we felt really good about putting the engines in for another 80 years (hopefully).

We hauled Fifer and had the engine installed via a huge crane--through a nicely (albeit small) hole that had been cut through the roof. Vince, me, Ben, Tom (shipyard owner) and another yard worker put both of the transmission units and one of the engines into the boat in about 4 hours one afternoon. It was amazing that we were actually able to do it, as the crane was at it's weight limit to boom (extending mechanism) the engine into place--so movement forward or backward was accomplished by pulling the boat up the rails, or sending the boat the other direction down the rails. It was one of those moments where you were halfway into something, and you realize that you have to figure out how to get 'er done. You do it because you don't have any other choice. It's kind of how we've been doing everything these days. Every second of this task was absolutely awesome and exciting. I loved it.

Once the engine had been installed, we felt comfortable letting Tom and the rest of the yard guys handle installing the second engine. That was done the next week....so...mission accomplished and on-time for that goal. The rest of the things we are doing seem to be falling into place..well, for the most part, anyway.

Molly was one hell of a lot of work. This little boat has been so much fun for so many years. We have been working on her for the past 4 years. We originally acquired the boat for my father, so that he and his girlfriend could stay on it when they visited Washington from Sacramento. We worked to get it up to standard for cruising and living aboard for a few days here and there. She was in pretty good shape to begin with, but her paint and varnish had been neglected for many years. We hauled her out a couple of times the first 2 years we had her, the second time taking her down to bare mahogany and returning her from white to her original color-scheme of beige and red. Every year we have worked hard to get her ready for the Wooden Boat Festival in Port Townsend every end of Summer, consistently bringing her to a higher level. Well, this year we really kicked it up a few notches. Vince completely stripped down the engine, taking apart the entire cooling system and removing all the old paint from the engine. He cleaned and polished everything--making sure all the gaskets on all the parts were replaced. After he was all finished, he applied a beautiful new coat of red paint. We also rebuilt the troublesome old carburetor--that little sucker had us chugging back and forth from Port Townsend last year on a wing and a prayer. Vince also steam-cleaned the engine compartment of Molly, and her bilges....once again, I was in charge of painting the bilges. This time I used turpentine and linseed oil. Huffing that in the hot Summer sun DID get me high. Less brain cells....goody. Thinking is troublesome, anyway, who needs it?

One would think that all this was enough. It wasn't. I had ripped out the carpets last Winter, so I figured that I would refinish the mahogany plywood floors--just sand, bleach and coat them with varnish. I attempted to sand them and after taking an hour to do about 1 foot of floor I decided that I didn't want to spent the next 50 years creating sawdust. I headed to the hardware store in search of the elusive chemical stripper that would solve all of my old-floor-varnish woes. Now, I have extensive experience with these fantastic wonders of chemical superiority. I had one product that I loved called "Speed-o-Matic"...this crap was the real deal. It had more health warnings than your bottle of Viagra! If you were unfortunate enough (or stupid enough) to get it onto your skin, the chemical burns that you received would serve as a long-lasting reminder that you had to suffer for your love of wooden boats. And burn....don't forget the burn. Well, the bastards discontinued "Speed-o-Matic"---some dumb ass probably sued Jasco for their well-deserved chemical burns. Pissed.me.off. It seems like in this fantastic country where nobody works or gets their hands dirty anymore, people look to eliminate any *dangerous* products. Hey, dangerous WORKS! I'd rather have a kick-ass product that takes 5 minutes to strip the paint, rather than working with some namby-pamby remover that takes HOURS, or might not even work at all. Call me stupid, I like products that work. So, the quest was on for something that could work, hopefully as well as my favorite poison.

As I wandered the aisles for my little mom 'n' pop hardware store a couple of blocks from the marina, I found several options--I grabbed them all in the smallest bottle I could find. I was going to test them ALL out and figure out the best one. They all touted their attributes for removing paint and varnish, but their labels didn't have nearly the "danger" factor I was looking for. It dawned on me that one of the old duffers who worked at the hardware store might have some helpful knowledge. I ambled up to one especially grizzled-up oldster who looked (to me, at least) to be handy. I asked him if he had any recommendations about what I should use--and that I wanted something that REALLY worked. He informed me that the can of something called, "Dad's," innocently enough, was what I really wanted. He went on to affirm my idea that the more health warnings that were on the bottle, the better the product worked.

I bought a gallon, and marched back down to the boat with a new energy. They had included a handy spray bottle to apply the stuff, which had great appeal---this way you didn't have to brush it on. This would eliminate any potential contact for chemical burn. I opened the spray bottle and poured the toxic crap into the obviously too-small hole of the bottle. I got to test the chemical burn potential right off the bat! Oh, yeah, this stuff should work..OUCH! When I put it on the floor it was love at first burn.....it took SECONDS to strip it right down to the wood. Awesome. That opened the floodgates of stupid. "If it takes the varnish off the floor so fast, maybe I can do the WHOLE INTERIOR". That's what started the insanity 3 weeks before the Wooden Boat Festival. I started taking apart the interior, removing doors, panels, windows and everything else in the quest for perfection.....

More tomorrow--including, but not limited to: "Nobody will buy my cool stuff--oh, yeah, we're in a Depression!"......downsizing is very difficult if you can't get rid of your stuff......

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Sit Down, Shut up....

It's so hard to sit down and write these days--still so much up in the air. We now have a 68 ft. yacht in Canada (sitting and waiting for us to come and love it), a house and farm--7 acres and (less) critters. We have cars, trucks, tractors, collectibles to re-home--and it's an uphill battle to sell them. Amazingly great stuff, nobody has the money to buy them. We're dealing with it all--hoping and working towards the goal. I vacillate between being thrilled with what we are doing, to being entirely overwhelmed. Happily, I'm moving more towards being thrilled....I have my days, like everyone.
On another front--I have successfully dealt with culling people out of my life that I have found too negative to deal with. For many, many years I have accepted that WORST behavior from people. I just thought that with friends you should look for the best in people, and overlook the flaws. That's what friends do, right? I challenge that by saying that negative energy begets negative energy. Choosing to move people out of your life can be very liberating. This is not to say that the people themselves are the problem. It's a matter of the mix--you+friend=whatever energy that creates. I am much more selfish about my time, who I choose to spend time with and taking the time I need to have to concentrate on my life issues. People are thinking this is just a "temporary" situation, that I will bring people back into my life after this whole life-change is finished with. This is not the case. I feel so great about what I'm doing that I'm going to continue on this path. I want to surround myself with people who understand they are worthy of success, and bring a lighter feeling into the world.
The whole cleaning/down-sizing/life-change is moving along, perhaps not as fast as I'd like--but as a very wise friend said yesterday over coffee--"live minute to minute." That's what I'm doing. Makes things easier.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Don’t use your Passion, let your Passion Use You

One of the highlights on our adventure to the land of silicone and Botox, was dinner with an old friend, who moved to L.A. from Seattle to pursue a career as a screenwriter. We had an amazing dinner at a small Nicaraguan restaurant, and an even more engaging conversation on art, passion, talent, and drive. He related how he had gotten meetings with some very connected producers. “I just pick up the phone and start calling.” It reminded us of the time that Carrie was asked by a local Seattle morning show to set up an in studio for a nationally touring band. We were friendly with the band, but had no idea how to get a hold of them. The management company that was promoting their tour wouldn’t give Carrie the time of day. “Who are you, and who are you with?” they asked. Not taking no for an answer, Carrie kept cold calling until she finally got the bands personal manager. “Sure, that would be great, I will set it up,” he said. By coincidence, our friend is also a musician, and knows the manager in question.

I posed the question, “so what do you do if you are passionate about something that you realize you may not be talented at in a way that would make you successful.”

Being both a musician and a writer, he shared how he had applied for a series of post graduate music programs. After being repeatedly rejected, he humbly admitted that as much as he loved music, maybe he was a better writer, or at least more likely to be successful at it. Having two parents who were doctors, and expecting him to go to medical school, he was already pursuing his passion over material success, (or even parental validation, which can be a force of nature to resist.)

But what is success? On a superficial level this is an easy question to answer. Some would tell you that it can be quantified in terms of market share, record sales, best seller lists, or critic reviews. I remember a proud mother showing me an article from the L.A. times, reviewing her daughters gallery show. She shared how the daughter told her, “they described me as an artist Mom. I always wanted to be called an artist.” The art world is a fickle place. Looking for external validation, especially if it has a direct correlation to your personal self confidence, can be a dangerous strategy.

On the other hand, perhaps out of fear of rejection, or simply lack of initiative, some people pursue a strategy of never putting themselves out there. Our friend related how as president of the North West Screenwriters Guild, he would meet writers who always had an excuse for why they hadn’t written. They would blame their husbands, or their family, or their hectic lives. I say start living or start dying. If you are truly passionate about your craft, commit, and start doing. Only time and experience will hone your skills so that when and if opportunity presents itself, you can seize the moment. If and when that moment comes, if you are focused on the external then fear of either success or failure will cause you to hesitate, and the moment may pass
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Another musician friend is more talented than she knows. Externally she appears to be empowered, almost to the point of being cocky. She has a wicked sense of humor, a quick wit, and delights in shocking people. Just like Carrie, she is not afraid to engage in topics of substance, so it is not surprising that Carrie and she became close friends. Both share a traumatic past, and instead of being shocked or feeling sorry when the friend confided some of the more sordid events, Carrie was empathetic and encouraged her to work through and move past them, having done so herself. Carrie is also relentless in her insistence that these things must be dealt with, or the baggage will weigh one down and influence one to pursue paths that are in conflict with your long-term happiness. I think because of this, their relationship is tumultuous, as the friend struggles with whether to subvert her past, or deal with it, (which could be painful, and force some uncomfortable changes in her present life.)

As she is a talented musician, Carrie saw the opportunity to connect her with our network of friends in the music industry. This culminated with a friend, who is respected in the industry, helping her record a demo which we all felt should open some doors for her. All of us that is, accept for Wolverine, who is very self critical about her music. So what is it that drives us past our fears to success, and what is success?

The friend who recorded the demo has had success. He was the drummer of arguably one of the most famous bands to come out of the Seattle scene. He was with them when they broke, but quit just before they exploded, (rescuing us from the likes of Poison and Loverboy.) For years he refused to give interviews, or explain the reasons why he left the band. The music press did what they typically do; they made up their own history, and in my opinion, because they felt slighted that he refused interviews, marginalized his role in the band, and his talent. He was with the band longer than any other drummer, recorded what many purists believe is their best album, and has the respect of every other musician I have met in the Seattle scene, including those who are still internationally recognized. So if it wasn’t talent that caused his departure, and continues to keep him in relative obscurity, then what is it?

His successor, who went on to start yet another very successful band was once asked in an interview about his predecessor. He revealed that many of the tracks on the album that exploded the band into superstardom, had already been written and recorded when he joined, and that he re-recorded them beat for beat. When asked who the better drummer was, he replied with humility that it was the other. These two drummers are completely different in their styles, so in all fairness the question may have no answer. One is very improvisational, more of a jazz drummer than punk, rock or “grunge,” the other a human drum machine who can replicate any style. In that difference I believe lays the answer to why our friend left the band, and continues to shun the spotlight.

The psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi describes those experiences which people find most rewarding, as those that challenge us just to the edge of our capabilities, but not beyond them. Allowing worry or doubt to intrude restrains you from achieving these optimal states of productivity. I have always said that the secret to anything is not knowing you can't, which looked at another way is that optimal success does not have a lot of room for self doubt, fear of failure, or just as damaging, fear of success. If you are successful doing something that you love, you might fear that you would grow to hate it. One might also speculate that success also can be limiting, because it creates expectations, and to meet those expectations you might have to compromise, or continue doing things the same way, to a formula, which will eventually trap you into doing this thing that you once loved, but that is no longer challenging or rewarding because now you are not allowed to grow beyond it.

Musicians especially can fall into this trap as fans and or labels and management do not want to take risks, for fear you will grow in a direction away from your market or fan base, which then is inherently at odds with an artist, who by nature wants to explore and take risks.

In my opinion, one artist who exemplifies the ability to both take creative chances, and have a long and successful career, is David Bowie (another would be Johnny Cash.) “Let’s Dance” was just as relevant in the eighties as “Ziggy Stardust” was in the seventies. When I first heard “Tin Machine” I didn’t like it, but it laid the foundation for bands like Nine Inch Nails, which he later collaborated with. The aforementioned drummer, while on his first national tour after being signed to SubPop, introduced the lead singer to Bowie in a record store in New York, and it heavily influenced his later work.

Part of Bowie’s success can be attributed to the fact that he is one of those rare combinations of talent, passion, and business acumen. There is a story of his early career, when he was still relatively unknown, of him hiring a limo, outfitting it with a large entourage, and then hiring a group of “fans” to wait anxiously at the Hotel for his arrival. This created such a buzz around town that he then played to a sold out show that night. The cold hard facts are that in the art world, talent without marketing will toil on in obscurity. Some artists are O.K. with obscurity, and in fact pine for it even after success. We see this in Seattle, where bands such as Pearl Jam delight playing un-announced shows in small clubs under assumed names, or in disguise. In part this tactic also validates them as artists, just as Steven King publishes under pseudonyms, which validates him as an artist independent of the “brand name.” If you are passionate about your art, and need more resources to explore that passion more, but lack the business sense, you had better find a Colonel Parker to your Elvis.

If you pursue you passion, success (or the people who will market you) may or may not find you. If your passion is a means on to itself, this may be all that you desire, but remember that if you are true to your passion and yourself success will not preclude this fulfillment. I recently saw an interview with the CEO of Starbucks, and what came across to me was that despite his success, not because of it, he was and always had been very passionate about coffee. When your passion is a means to an end, and not just an end on to itself, you can never be completely focused on what is most fulfilling, your passion. Only by getting in the “zone,” by letting our passion use us, can we truly perform at our optimum potential. If we do not find our passions rewarding in and of themselves, do we really believe that we will be fulfilled with the fruits of those labors?

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

In Defense of Dirty Hands

For now, Fifer remains in Canada, partly so we do not get distracted from our downsizing, but mostly to work through logistics to get her ready to come through customs. Our second trip up to see her was a mad dash to inventory equipment, and get the contract signed around. This last one was more relaxed, but it was time to get our hands dirty.

Unlike buying a used car, or a house, it has been my experience that when you buy a boat, you also inherit a lot of clutter. Boaters tend to be like Boy Scouts. “Be prepared,” for all situations, or at least try to be, is the mindset. The previous owner of Fifer, with the best of intentions, had tried to turn her into a Swiss Army knife; lot’s of stuff that sort of works in a pinch, but not very well.

The will to put Fifer back together, and return her to her former glory was there, but I think he just got overwhelmed.

I know from personal experience, that even smart hard working guys can get in over their heads, but you need to know when to quit. This is a lesson I am still learning, and I take it for granted that I am able to deal fairly easily with the curves that life, and mechanical things throw at you. The week before our trip we sold the last of our Mercedes diesel wagons to a good friend. I had done a lot of work to make sure that I felt confident about the car. It had new tires, battery, starter, glow plugs, thermostat, and fuel filters, and Carrie and I had both spent a lot of time working on it. The first indication that our friend might not be a good first time diesel owner was several hours after we dropped the car off, he called to say it wouldn’t shift. Carrie went over climbed in, and while he looked on in amazement pulled out on the highway as it shifted up to speed. Being used to gas cars, I am guessing he pushed the pedal all the way down, engaging the kick down switch that tells the transmission to stay in a lower gear for passing. The next day he called to say he couldn’t get it to start, and the turn signals to work. We had been driving it for two weeks with no problem, but at this point we just called AAA, and got it back. I put it on the charger, and after a few minutes it started right up. To our friends credit, he just knew he wasn’t prepared to deal. No problem. I will either keep the car, or sell it to someone who is a little more mechanical, or experienced. Just to make sure there weren’t any more gremlins in the car, we decided to take it on our trip to Canada.

The drive up was fairly uneventful, and we were looking smugly at the traffic moving slowly in the other direction, when we hit one of the worst traffic jams I have ever been stuck in. As we crested a hill, the cars in front were simply parked. Carrie watched in the rear view mirror as a car collided so hard into the one stopped beside us, that the left front wheel came off and rolled into the lane behind us. Three lanes merged into one, tempers flared, and then even more lanes merged before we made it to the tunnel that goes under the Fraser River. We spent a lot of time with the car idling at a standstill, and I was a little nervous when I saw the temperature gage start to climb. I had just put a new thermostat in, and this was the first road trip we had the white Mercedes Wagon on since I had installed the new tranny. I was relieved when we started moving again, and the temperature dropped down to normal.

We checked into the hotel, and then went down to the boat to get a little work done before calling it a day. When we went out to the car to go back to the hotel, it wouldn’t start. Undaunted, we went back to the boat, got an extra battery charger (for once I was happy with the redundant tool buying habits of the previous owner,) and started charging it while we went back down and got some more work done. Just to be safe, when we got back to the hotel, I smuggled the battery and the charger up to the room to let it charge over night.

For some strange reason, Grocery stores seem to very difficult to find in Canada. We needed distilled water to refill the batteries on the boat, and had to travel many miles, passing just about every other type of retail outlet that modern life can provide. Golf World, craft stores, Recliner land, Rice World (there is a large immigrants population,) Chow’s Exotic Meats, and lot’s of mini-marts, but nothing resembling a supermarket on our quest. In the midst of our adventure, the car started making a strange new metallic sound. This was quite unsettling in our foreign surroundings, and as we drove it got progressively worse. We pondered what it could be, and Carrie called AAA to see what our coverage was. Finally, when we got back to the shipyard I had Carrie pop the hood and keep it running. Almost immediately I was relieved to see that the fan belt was slipping, so now it was obvious where the noise was coming from, why it got hot, and why the battery wasn’t charging. I also had spare belts with me, which I put on while Carrie went down and did more work on the boat.

That weekend we filled two dumpsters. Up and down the dock I went, dragging garbage cans full of torn up tarps, foam to keep the tarps from chafing on all the ropes, cardboard boxes for all the supplies he bought, and blankets that the rodents had delighted in using along with the cardboard as a source for food and nesting material. The four socket sets, three full toolboxes, camp stove, and other miscellaneous stuff we loaded into the wagon to take to his storage unit.

I think that long before the grounding, the previous owner was out of his element. A lawyer by trade, he liked the idea of Fifer, and that of being a handy guy. Even if he didn’t do the work himself, he prided himself on knowing who to hire, and how to research what to do.

The deck leaked, and instead of keeping it simple, he just kept adding tarps on top of more tarps, stringing rope back and forth to hold them, and when the water started to pool buying step ladders and garbage cans placed to hold the low spots up. These were custom tarps, and he had several spare sets made. For the money he spent, he easily could have had a frame made, or just made one out of PVC pipe, like the guys at the shipyard tried to tell him to do. He kind of had the same approach to the hull repairs. He went with the cheap bid, didn’t listen to the people who knew what they were talking about, and when the timeline and price doubled to a year and $300,000, he just kept piling it on. In both cases he ended up with inferior results.


On the return trip we surprised my Grandma Becky by stopping in Anacortes for a visit. It was perfect timing as it was the day before her 84th birthday. “You made my birthday!” she said. We visited for about an hour, showing her pictures of Fifer and chatting about family. She is very concerned about countries current economic situation. “We lived on a farm, and so we were fine during the last depression. We took care of each other. I’m afraid that people today don’t know how to do anything for themselves. I think we are in a real mess, and I worry about these kids,” she lamented. She was relieved to hear that I had a secure job, and that we were very self sufficient.

A lot of people I know do not understand all the work I do: the old cars, home improvement, fixing everything myself, etc. My parents, as well as my in-laws came from the generation where if you were smart and well educated you hired someone else to do those things. I will admit that there were times where it would have been easier, and maybe cheaper to just buy a new car, or hire someone else. Especially in light of our recent downsizing, I definitely took on more projects than I should have, and would have been wise to devote myself to tasks more challenging or cerebral. What I don’t regret is that while most of our friends and family are in debt, we have the freedom to do what we are doing now, with no debt, no obligations. At the end of the day my hands may be dirty, but I had the ability to use them to do what needed to be done, and with the wisdom I have gained, the freedom to choose whether or not to do it myself. That my friends is a much better choice than Visa or Mastercard.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Blog on...........

Haven't written in awhile. Crappy. I know. Just haven't felt witty--or particularly sociable. Yes, blogging is sociable....lol....better not tell the "Teabaggers", huh? Socialism is bad, m-kay? All the same...no, not even close. I digress. Kind of how my brain has been functioning of late. Or not functioning. Think of clicking through a bunch of TV channels while sitting on the couch--that's me running from one thing to another. Channel surf between the home-improvement show and the big adventure reality bit. These days A.D.D is a blessing.
Kind of on "auto-pilot" getting things done and moving forward. I guess when we started this I didn't realize how huge of a life-change it really was. Silly, considering all the material possessions we have, thinking this would be an easy task. Call me an idiot, I thought it would go faster than it is. Selling things on Craiglist (and elsewhere) is a GIANT pain in the ass. People, if you didn't think we had an economic crisis, I'm here to tell you that yes in-dee-dee we do. We have some pretty cool shit. 1940's Coke machines, very collectible cars, extremely sought-after things....none of it really moves, even priced to sell. Even a couple of years ago this crap would have moved down the road rapidly. As it is, it is taking time. I'm not patient. I am forced to be. It will eventually go, I resign myself to that. In the meantime we work like dogs getting things gone and cleaned up. That is going very well. Disappearing giant trailers, old junk cars--GONE. It's still a daunting task. I accomplish it happily. That's the good stuff. I love it.
Aside from that, we are again heading to L.A. for the unforgettable debauchery that is the Playboy Mansion. It has to be the most fun you can have people watching (yes, it's even better than Burning Man--the people at the party aren't trying to be feats of nature, they simply ARE). I love the cause. It's for our brave men and women injured in Iraq and Afghanistan--they attend the party, too--and it's really all for them. I loved watching David Hasselhoff thanking them, each individually, for their service. Call him what you will, the man has class (what a man does on his own floor with alcohol and hamburgers is his damn business!). This year I'm not freaking out at all about going. I know what to expect, and I have no worries. Just expect to have a lot of fun. It helps that I'm probably in the best shape of my life, and I've worked damn hard for it. This year, the pictures most likely won't all make it to Facebook--I kicked it up a notch. My attire is tasteful, but there is less of it. Figure I'd better kick it up a notch while I still can! lol. Vince has the tux that makes him look like James Bond (with more staying power, lol, ask me about Sean Connery--I'll tell you the story!) It will be nice to just relax and enjoy the show.
We will be flying in on Friday morning, meeting with friends for lunch--then heading to a live taping of the Bill Maher show (HBO, Fridays), then out to dinner with old friends.
I'll blog about it all when I get back....

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Murphy's Law (or, "I'm going to kill Murphy if I ever find him")

Anything that can happen, will happen. That's the theory. Comes to pass all the time. I never need proof of it's existence.
Got a call day before yesterday that a (very large) barge hit Fifer late Saturday night. There have been some rough storms up there, and she's tied outside of some other boats. She's right in the River, so it's not a huge leap to think that something like this could happen. The damage is pretty extensive, but not too alarming. It hit the bow of Fife (good amount of damage there), and during the time they were trying to move her back into place they ripped out a cleat. Probably 5-10k worth of damage. It was the barge companies fault--they will pay for the repairs.
This leads me to the place I am right now. We're in a house I'm done with--ready to make the move. I feel that I've already made the emotional detachment, so the time I'm spending here (though I'm enjoying--the sense of accomplishment is amazing) is frustrating. Nothing leaves as fast as I want it to. I either make the arrangements to have it picked up and something happens that I can't have it leave. Usually this is due to Vince not being about 10 people. He can't do it all. I'm afraid I'm not very well versed on putting tires on tractor rims--perhaps we wouldn't be having this discussion if I could. Lol. There are also the folks who promise to come and get things, then stall out. Ads that need to be written. Never get that done, either--because I don't know what the hell they are, these items. I have to learn to take it easy. It will all get done. I'm trying to concentrate on the things that I CAN do, not the things I can't. If I don't do that, I'm going to drive Vince insane. I have one foot out the door, and one foot on Fifer. This particular dilemma won't be any better until I have BOTH feet on Fifer. In the meantime, so much more to do.
So I try not to freak out, thinking of all the things we have to do to be ready to sell the house on the time-line we have made. I know that things have to be done in order--make things disappear, then work on the house to have it ready to sell. I try and enjoy the ride, while Murphy's Law ensues.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Patience is a Virtue?

I usually believe that being patient is a good thing. But it doesn't feel like it at all. I'd just like to move down the board and be done with the game at this point. Visiting Fifer and then coming home to face the realities of what still needs to be done here at home is rather maddening, really. She sits up in Canada waiting for us to come and do the work--and yet here we are, wrapping up old bits that we are very much done with. At least mentally.
There is still so much to do--and the inevitable "necessary" things to get done always seem to overlap. You go outside to clean/organize this, and there's something else that beckons. It's hard to stay focused. I've made a mental list of all the things that need to be done, and I'm moving through that--keeping in mind that I still have a household to run. It will all work out in the end, I try and keep that at the forefront of my mind. This is difficult as I watch Vince thrash around getting pissed off at the menial tasks he has to do in order to clean-up and down-size. I stress as much as he does, worrying about what the house will sell for (although it really doesn't matter--we could sell this place for MUCH less than it's worth and have plenty of money to deal with Fifer). I think about the things we still have to sell--the VW's, the Mercedes, the trucks, tractors--odds and bits. I want as many of these things to go before we make the big move. Seeing things go on to other caretakers makes me extremely happy. All these items have value to people, and I love to see folks pick up the torch and run with them. Selling Mini-Molly (a 21 ft. 1957 Owens Flagship Cruiser) was such a fantastic feeling. The guy who bought it really loved it, and was excited to get it up and running. This is my hope for all these things. When you collect very old things, you have to realize that you are simply the caretaker. You do the maintenance and show the craftsmanship of these things to a new generation. One day the thing, whether it is an automobile, boat or well-crafted piece of furniture, will be passed on to the next caretaker. You never own these things--you CARE for these things. It's a huge responsibility. I don't look at most of them as inaminate objects. Especially wooden boats. I see them as "living" things. It's hard for me to let go of that, to let the next person in line take over the responsibility of keeping the boat in good condition.
Having said that, Fifer is next in line. If we hadn't stepped in, it would not be long before she was completely beyond repair. There is a window for these boats--once that time-period is exceeded it is extremely difficult to bring them back. It happens to many wooden boats, boats that have history and value. The are the casualties of a bad economy, or the lack of expertise of their caretakers.
I'm impatient to get on with the next chapter. I will swallow that and soldier on. Can't get down the road if you don't travel the distance first. I'm hoping I can take my own advice I so often give to others and actually enjoy the ride.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Cruising Forward.....

Great. it's been so long since I blogged, I forgot my password. I'll only say in my defense that I've been busier getting everything done around here on the farm to concentrate at all. That, and the whole idea of our new boat, "Fifer" has been eating away at me. I just wasn't sure we were prepared to take on a project like her. I say that not because we don't have the skills, know-how and ultimately, money to do the job....it's that this isn't just a huge project. It's our new home.
I've been quiet about letting all of you in on just how much of a project she is. Partly because the idea of it was daunting to me as well--and for those of you who truly know us, well, you know how over-our-heads we've been most likely as long as you've known us. (Hell, we've been over-our-heads as long as I'VE known us...lol) This boat felt like more of the same. That is, until this last weekend past.
We have been going back and forth with Sandy, the man who owned the boat, for weeks. Fleshing out details and expectations. Translating that into legalese...not as easy as it sounds. There are all kinds of issues swirling around this boat. None of which she caused. The man who owned the boat for more than 10 years is devoted to Fifer. He loves her. He lived on her and enjoyed cruising her around Canada. I don't doubt his affection or devotion to her, I only walk about this once proud and regal vessel and wonder how someone could be so overwhelmed and keep going down the same path. I think Sandy managed rather well until "the incident"--the point years ago where he ran Fifer into some rocks and tore the bottom of her out. The damage was extensive, and yes, she was partially submerged for a time until they were able to temporarily repair the gaping holes and tow her to safe harbor. It was at this point that the fortunes of Fifer took a turn for the worse. It wasn't because Sandy didn't throw an adequate amount of money at her--he spent $300,000 to repair the damage. It was done well, for the most part. The work that was done is a testament to how much Sandy loved the boat. He was only given $150,000 for the insurance settlement. Since that time, Sandy has become more and more overwhelmed trying to get on top of all the things that needed to be done to put Fifer back together. The interior has been gutted (all the fixtures and wiring have been removed). Many of the pieces are still intact--the main bits are all there. There will be extensive work done to restore the cabinets. We are thinking since things are torn out, that we may move the galley from where it is (downstairs) up to the salon area. The salon is massive, and having the galley where you could look out large, bright windows seems much more condusive to a happy cook! The galley down below seems more dungeon-like....it fits with my feel for being a chef, but I'd rather not perpetuate that ideal of myself. I'd actually like to cook, given the right environment. The engines have been completely rebuilt and sit in a tire warehouse in Surrey. They weigh 3 tons each, and Vince is mad for them. They are original to the boat, and where made in England. They are quite impressive and even I have to admit that they are pretty cool.
In short, there's one hell of a lot of work to do. Until this weekend I felt that the task was going to be so big that I couldn't quite get into the spirit of it all--especially since we still have so much to do with the house. I had a shift this weekend. I actually looked at what needed to be done, and it doesn't seem to overwhelm me. We have a reasonable plan of action, and I feel good about it.
This hasn't been an easy thing to do, getting Fifer. We now own her--we signed papers and exchanged funds yesterday. Sandy is in the hospital, and we had to go to his bedside to do the paper shuffle. He is very ill, and we're not sure if his outcome will be favorable. It was time for him to pass Fifer on. She is so very worthy of saving. She has a rich Northwest history--even boasting a visit from the Queen. We are only now discovering some of these things, and everyone we come in contact with seems to have the same sort of affection for her, and are excited to see someone pick her up and run with her. We have so much to do, but I'm excited.
We are really moving forward on the house, too. I'll bring you up-to-date on those exciting bits the next time.....and pictures of Fifer. Scary "before" pictures......

Friday, February 26, 2010

Something different (but contoversial)


Out of curiosity, I recently did a Google image search for the infamous 2012 London Olympics logo. I had heard about it from my wife, who described it as “Lisa Simpson giving head.” Evidently this design has sparked a lot of criticism. Here is the quote from the design firm, Wolff Olins, who after several years and nearly $100K unveiled the logo.

Wolff Olins creative director Patrick Cox claimed that “Its design is intentionally raw, it doesn’t… ask to be liked very much. It was meant to provoke a response, like the little thorn in the chair that gets you to breathe in, sit up and take notice.”

There are plenty of things that get our attention as we stumble through life. I notice dog feces on the sidewalk, especially if it smells strongly. This evokes a response and emotions. I step around with disgust, and anger at the owners who allowed it to be in a shared public space. I’m not sure, but I don’t think that similar responses were desired by the Olympic Planning Committee who will emblazon this logo on everything from uniforms, to souvenir programs and clothing.
You may think me a bit harsh, but there is an old stereotype we have all seen of the Nouveau Rich, yet uneducated rube, (typically portrayed on screen as a Texas oil millionaire,) who upon looking at some modernistic painting comments “I may not know art, but I know what I like.” This person is then looked at scornfully by people who, we are told, are much more sophisticated and educated. The joke is that we should then dismiss this moneyed but crude person, and the lesson; that money doesn’t buy taste. Having seen many a mega yacht with a hideous interior, (and often exterior,) design, I could easily be led to identify with this stereotype. After reading the blogs critiquing and defending the Lisa Simpson/ Olympic Logo, I think deconstruction of this scenario is called for.
In 2012, the world will tune in to the London Olympics, and if this logo survived we will see it in every screenshot of Olympians either soaring to new heights, or crushed by performances falling short of the podium. The stories behind these athletes embody all that is good and altruistic, (or sometimes the opposite,) in human achievement. As members of the human race, we will all identify with something or someone in those arenas. Don’t we all then collectively have the right to demand a high standard for the imagery associated with these events?
Images evoke emotions, associations leading to memories, and prompt us to take action. Whether it is the decision to change or not change the channel, read or toss aside a magazine, buy or not buy a product, or simply the quality of those experiences, images are powerful. As consumers of pop culture our responses are measured in sales and ratings, but if there is a monopoly on that product, like the Olympics, the quality of that event is left to the whim of the Planning Committee. I say as consumers we are justified in feeling indignant if we think that an element of that product does not live up to the high ideals embodied in the event.
So I say that if we the public start feeling like that Texas oil millionaire, it’s time to throw the elitist snob’s out on their behind.
Here is a comment by one of the defender’s of the logo. They say the best defense is a good offense, so pay close attention to the language this “design professional” uses. I hope you see the irony:

Beauty is inherently elitist. It is full of rules and codes shared and acquainted only by the initiated. Beauty for being mysterious and enigmatic because no one knows it and when you grasp it, someone else tells you "you are so last season"... well, the TV shot beauty and MySpace and globalization finally killed it.Is this really such a loss? I don't think so. Aesthetics will always be used to separate people so you can bet on a next hype of orthodox old graphic design, and also to create desire out of pure void so it'll be cheap and fun (like it's always been). But if ugliness, postmodernism and democratization are the way to do those things so be it, I'm going to love every second of this trend. Orthodox graphic design doesn't have any sense of humor and has led to a boring generation of young graphic designers (the ones who praise Pentagram) that made dissidence (a.k.a. creativity) almost impossible, our very own artistic mix of state police and royal absolutists.My closing thoughts: F..k Vignelly, f..k Pentagram and f..k Paul Rand... we may differ on our appreciation of their quality and contribution but I think we can all agree that THEY ARE BORING. We can still learn from them but, we better have fun with our jobs and stop referencing the past.Viva lo feo!Dani R

First of all, beauty is hard to define, but it can be measured. Many amazing scientific studies on what is and isn’t beautiful, or when discussing fellow humans, what is or isn’t sexually attractive, have come out in recent years. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but these studies show it is a lot less arbitrary than that. Beauty can truly be measured, quantified, and defined. What cannot be quantified are trends, and to some extent fashion. These are subject to the whims of society, but there are some underlying universal truths. Anorexic tan blondes may be the trend, but symmetry and proportion is still universal, and thus they are symmetrically anorexic and proportionately blonde.
Just as questions of ethics and human behavior bring controversy, so do these ideas of beauty and design. On the latter you have conservative religion and secular psychology on two ends of the spectrum. The religious types would scoff at psychological studies, and tell you we shouldn’t even attempt to study it scientifically; have faith, they have all the answers and will share them with you if you join them. The secularists would say much of the human experience can be measured and explained, and that those ideas belong to all of us. It is my opinion that the art world: the gallery owners, fashion magazine editors, designers, etc. are the high priests, bishops, popes of fashion. They want to dictate our tastes to us through their hierarchy, worship in their stores, and pretend that they have not spent many fortunes hiding evidence contradicting them in their vaults, and ridiculing the heretics that dare question them.

Which brings us back to the Lisa Simpson/ Olympics logo.
If you define yourself by what you are not, then you are giving creditability to that which you seek to escape. Like the punk rock kid's who were trying to be individuals, but all end up looking like they are wearing uniforms (albeit leather with safety pins and anarchy patches) because they were trying so hard to be different that they let what they aren't projecting define what they were. "Devil worshippers" give credibility to Christians by accepting their argument that if you aren't following God's rules you must be a follower of Satan.
If these designers were truly groundbreaking, redefining how we communicate, then they wouldn't spend so much time trying to create contrast to what they were not.

An old saying is, "If a student hasn't learned, a teacher hasn't taught." Taking the same analogy, one can measure quantitatively how much a viewer has retained after being exposed to an attempt to communicate. Show me a study comparing what the creator intended vs. how much the viewer retained in both the traditional, and the new formats, and I might pay attention. I suspect that the latter would prevail, and therefore one could prove quantitatively that the communicator had failed.
If I wanted to listen to a rambling drunk who never got to the point, I would got to the bar, and not read Henry Miller. If I wanted to look at random shapes and bright colors with no intent or meaning, I would give some monkeys some fluorescent paint to throw at the wall with their poo.

Monday, February 22, 2010

End the Winter of Discontent.....

I continue this evening as I have for the last week. Watching the Olympics. I watch these people do what I will never do. Somehow, just because they are from my country, I can feel proud. It's weird. It also keeps me up too late at night. I'll be happy and sad when it's over. Can't wait to see how the men's hockey works out.....I just can't believe we could actually beat the Canucks in their own house. Doesn't seem fair.

The work continues, and we move closer to a signed-around agreement on the boat. Taking the kids in to get their passports tomorrow. We want to take a trip up to Vancouver for Spring Break to see Fifer. I know what it means for me--time to start cleaning! lol.

I don't have much to say tonite, just cleaning, working, getting things ready to go...same-old-same-old.

We haven't been able to get out and see people lately. I miss some folks...but on the other hand--we're well rested, catching up with things around here and finally getting over the dreaded flu.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Bits and Pieces.....

Today was all about work. Trying to get the1970 VW bus ready to sell. I'm dragging myself around doing all these things to prepare, but what I really should be doing is sleeping...I've got some nasty plague. I can't seem to relax, though, so I just keep moving. Getting things done feels good, so I keep on keeping on.
The boat purchase is progressing as well. Vince has contacted the boatyard where the boat is docked to tell them of our intent. He has also looked into all the ins-and-outs of getting the boat from Canada to the U.S. It's as complicated as you'd like to imagine. It will also cost us more money. Not a lot, but a couple of thousand dollars. Also, discovered that it's imperative to have the engines (which are currently in heated storage) installed in the boat before coming across the border. Apparently the EPA wouldn't allow them to come over to the the U.S. It doesn't make any difference if they are antique (which they are, 1926) or not. Good things to know. Due diligence. This boat won't cost us a lot of money, but any investment we make needs to be looked after well. Can't afford to make mistakes.
I'd really like to get the house sold in fairly short order. I realize that the boat is do-able without selling the place, but to me it seems like too much to juggle. I also think that emotionally we are one foot out the door already. It's like we made the decision and though it was seemingly sudden, it really wasn't. This was a long time coming. I'm ready.
I'm in the process of making the sacrifices necessary to make the move to Fifer possible. Selling my horse this weekend was a HUGE step for me. Lacey isn't just a horse, she's a dear, dear friend to me. When I bought her 8 years ago I had no idea how she would impact my life, how much I would grow to love her. I have no idea what happened to her in her previous life. I know that she was extremely well-trained--she can be ridden either English of Western, and she was quick and responsive to every touch. Unfortunately, I think she was also abused. When I got her, you couldn't touch her head. Not at all. She'd freak out, spook, rear back. It was terrible. Someone beat her severely. You could load her in a trailer--at your own risk. She freaked out at that, too. She'd get this crazy look in her eyes. If you know horses, you'll know what I'm talking about--complete disconnect. Just gone, There was no reasoning with her. After 8 years, she has grown to trust, and love. The little girl who will ride her now will know the joys of this love because she and I had the time to learn to trust each other. She has none of the fearfulness that she did when I got her. I'm sad that she isn't my horse anymore, but I'm happy that she will have a better home because of the time we spent together. It made me sad today when I looked down into her beautiful, rolling pasture. You can still see her favorite places to spend time..little worn out spots amidst the lush green. I'll miss that girl. She will always have a special place in my heart. She did as much for me as I did for her....she was a friend, not a pet. I'll miss our talks. I know it sounds crazy, but she listened. It felt like she understood. And accepted. Not too many friends like that in the world.
Selling Lacey is how to gauge my emotional commitment to this life-change. I'm completely in it. Having a horse was a dream from the time I was tiny. It took me until I was in the 30's to fulfill that dream. Now dreams are changing .Evolving, I guess. Now I dream of traveling to exotic ports of call with the people I love most. I dream of lounging on Fifer on beautiful summer days. I dream of sailing Gullmar around the Puget Sound, sailing her in the way she should be sailed--hard and fast. Life is good. Bring it on.......

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Time is a Four-Letter Word.....

Never seem to have enough time. I should sit down and write more, but I always seem to find something "more important." I apologize for that. I'll try to be better about keeping up-to-date.

Lots has happened. We did go up and see the boat in Canada. She is a 1928 Hoffar-Beeching 68 ft. yacht. She needs a lot of work, but she is sound. The engines have been completely rebuilt, and are sitting in a tire shop in Vancouver. The guy who owns it is an intriguing individual. He is a chain-smoking (Oo, my FAVORITE) and I believe "hard-drinking" may also apply. The boat is in it's present state because of him. About 10 yrs ago he ran it into some rocks and ripped some holes into the bottom (all of which has been repaired). He seems to have gotten behind with things, having torn everything out of the boat in order to deal with the sinking of the boat. Everything has been removed. Some bits here, some bits there--some bits will have to be remade. Peeling paint, leaking roof, decks needing sealing. He has done none of it. Maybe it's just time for a new prespective, time for him to be out and us to be in. There is no shortage of work on the boat--and there is no shortage of work here, either. I'm a bit overwhelmed, truth be told.

Add to that changes at Vince's work, trying to get things sold or given away, cleaned up, sort and scrap. It's a whole lot to be looking squarely in the face, but I'm coping. Make small goals everyday, and don't get overwhelmed. It's a clever balancing act. Some days are better than others for me. My goal right now is getting the cars we want to sell cleaned up and ready. We have the 1970 VW camper bus, 1962 Mercedes 220 SEB coupe and the 1957 oval window bug. They should keep me pretty busy for the next couple of days.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Pragmatic Optimist

Often people will argue that if you look at the world optimistically, that you have rose colored glasses, are unrealistic, or otherwise not grounded in reality. They will explain that they are not being pessimistic, but are pragmatic, or realists. In my opinion, viewing the world in this way limits our ability to see the possibilities.
I recently had dinner with a friend I had not seen in many years. We immediately connected, and had a great conversation. When Carrie and I got home Carrie remarked that he looked the same as he had ten years ago, and I remember having the same impression as soon as I saw him walk in. So why is it that some people continue to appear youthful, while we are shocked by how much others have appeared to age?
While we were dining and talking, I remembered what had always made me feel a kinship to this person. He was engaging, truly interested in what we had done and why, and very forthcoming with his own experiences and motivations, but above all else, he was upbeat, and some would say, optimistic. We talked about children, wives, jobs, hobbies, and generally got caught up. You could tell he studiously avoided dwelling on anything negative about the ex, co-workers or others in his life he clearly did not hold in high regard. He was truly happy with the relationships he was building with the women in his life, his wife and daughters and was, dare I say, optimistic about the future. It is my opinion that a positive attitude, an active lifestyle, and choosing partners that are also positive and supportive, is the key to being, and looking youthful.
I’m sure that if one could prove such a theory, this alone would be a compelling reason to approach the world with a sense of optimism. Getting carded well into your thirties, or let’s say, getting invited to the Playboy Mansion solely on your appearance when you were forty are blessings few people would turn down. There is however a simpler and more fundamental reason. As I discussed in my blog on “Scarcity versus Plenty,” we are often limited not by the resources not available to us, but more often by our inability to see what is possible with the resources we already have. Not dwelling on the impossible, and being able to see past it to the often not so obvious possible is what separates the followers from the leaders. With a sense of optimism, you are open to the possibility that there may still be a positive outcome possible, regardless of how bleak the prospects look currently. With a sense of pessimism, you may have already decided that given the current situation, there is no happy ending. Being pragmatic is facing the facts, and then making realistic decisions about how to proceed, which can be done either pessimistically or optimistically. Even if the pessimists are right, at least you were open to the win-win, and can approach the setback with a happier attitude.
I have always said that if you don’t try, you are guaranteed failure, and the answer to something not asked for is almost always no. If you are looking for the possible you cannot become too focused on the impossible.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Keep on Truckin'......

Today I didn't accomplish a ton of manual labor. I did finish the taxes--took me about an hour from start to finish. Because of the kids going to college (Ben last year) we get money back. Yay....anytime you get money back from the government it's a good thing.

I have to say, even though we are moving at a break-neck pace, getting to the point we have everything gone that is going to go will be a serious relief. I wish that process would could move faster sometimes. It's like we made the decision to make this incredible life-changing move, but there is so much work to do before we can get there. I think about the fact that it took 15 years (more, actually--some of it came here with us) to collect all of this stuff. It will take time to dispatch it all. The fact that we are willing to say goodbye to all of it is miracle enough. The realization that it's all just "stuff" that is holding us back from achieving our dreams. Baby steps....when I want to RUN! I have to remember that this is a marathon, not a sprint. Still, I keep thinking about the freedom we will have and all I want to do is climb the wall and make a run for it.

This coming weekend we are heading up to Canada to see the boat we are thinking of purchasing. Maybe this will be a welcome break. Get away from everything and come back Monday refreshed and ready to take on the work again.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Saying Goodbye to Burdensome Encumberances...

This weekend has been a busy one. I said goodbye to one of my favorite cars. Sad about that, to some extent. It has to happen, though. Too many cars. This Mercedes was a great car. Reliable. I used it as an "estate car" hauling hay and feed to the farm. Posts for fences, all measure of things of farm-y importance. Recently it has served as a vehicle to haul tons and tons of stuff to charity. I'll have to use the truck for that now. Still, seeing it go today was *a bit* sad. It had been a great car, and in the nice weather it had a sunroof to open and let the very rare "Washington State sunshine" in. Still more to go. We've decided to sell the very first car we ever bought together--a white 1962 Mercedes 220 SEB Coupe. I love this car, too....we brought Ben home from the hospital in it--and when he was a toddler, he liked to go inside it and pretend to drive. I have to admit I was a little worried that he would follow in our footsteps and be auto-obsessed, too. It's not a curse you would wish on anyone.
Now that we are purging I am able to really observe what these cars mean to me, after collecting all these years. I've reached a breaking point. I see that they are great cars, they hold memories for me. I also see that they all need work. When you have as many as vehicles as we do, the work-list piles up. Add other interests in life and it just goes out the window. There was just no way to juggle the house that needed remodeling, a huge piece of acreage that needed grooming, the labors of a farm (animals, upkeep), children, boats--and countless other crazy pursuits. There's just no time to deal with multiple cars, even if they have value (which they do). Vince has even decided to sell the 1957 Oval window Bug....before any of you get all excited, we have a friend who gets first right of refusal, and knowing how he appreciates wonderful things, he may very well embrace the little thing. It's as cute, well, as a Bug! These decisions aren't easy, but life is changing, and we are finding that our old way of looking at things just doesn't fit anymore. Time to move on. New life is waiting.

This brings me to the next thing on the menu. I have found something happening with this purging process that I didn't expect at all. I have been questioning EVERYTHING, including my friendships/relationships I have with other people. I have a tendency to give, give, give in relationships, and ask nothing in return. Sometimes I don't even ask for respect. Well, that has been my policy. Up until now. The way I see it, big life changes call everything into question. I am seeing my own shortcomings--and the shortcomings of the people around me. This is making me less tolerant of any bullshit. I'm done trying to "make" relationships work. Sure, I'll put in my time, but if all I ever get in return is lack of respect I'll have to say "pass." I want people in my life who are considerate, loving, selfless and honest in their dealings with me. A person doesn't necessarily have to be a Saint (I'd rather they not be-lol), but they have to have love at their core--and be willing to share it. It is my belief that people can change in time, but if someone puts no effort forth at all to become a better person then again, I say "pass." Maybe time will do people good...for them, trust will come eventually....this path is their own. Surrounding themselves with more fucked up people who give them positive affirmations about how awesome they are is not self-improvement. Part of being a friend to someone is giving and recieving constructive criticism, and being able to take it--on both sides. I guess it just boils down to the fact that I've decided to place more importance on the people we bring into our lives. It's time to take responsibility for it, not just sit back and wonder why I have negative energy around when I invited it in in the first place. Also, I have to say that these aren't bad people, just not people I can have in my life. Making changes, that is what this is all about.

On the upside, now that I have been moving farther down this road of change I see different people gravitating towards me. Vince and I are thrilled with the people we have in our life right now, and we are looking forward to many happy boating adventures in the future. Our true friends prodded us into action in this life-change. They are the people who challenge us, and push us out of our comfort zone. Change is never easy. Re-accessing your life and prioritizing isn't easy. The end result will be worth it.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Old Careers Never Die, They Come Back to Haunt You Once and Awhile.

I went to a benefit last night for Habitat For Humanity on Bainbridge Island. The star attraction was a friend who is a real estate agent. She does a stand-up comedy routine ALL about real estate and all the trials and tribulations involved in that business. I have to admit, being a real estate agents for over 10 years, some of it was pretty damn funny. If you are in any business your have some pretty funny stories regarding the ins-and-outs of whatever it is that you are doing. Real estate is a special animal. I met some of the best friends I have ever made when I sold them a house. I also completely HATED the business...especially other real estate agents. They were some of the WORST people I have ever met. The most morally bankrupt, souless, altogether AWFUL people I've met in my life have been real estate agents. I can literally count on my hands the admirable folks I met that were part of the biz. Bridget is one of those agents. She's one of the good ones.

To continue my personal rant on real estate, I have to say that being in the business during the decline of the mortgage industry, I saw the criminal acts that were occuring to help drive our economy into the ditch. Homebuyers who didn't have to qualify based on their income to buy a home. They couldn't afford a home--you wouldn't loan these people money to buy a scooter, let alone a house! Yet people looked the other way, and they got their loans--and homes they couldn't afford which they later defaulted on. The real estate industry WAS responsible for part of what happened. You could see what was happening--if someone couldn't afford a home and you helped them buy it, YOU are complicit...bottom line. Just because you CAN doesn't mean you SHOULD. I had one mortgage broker that I used in the day, and I was completely aware of what my clients were capable of buying. I NEVER had anyone buy a home that couldn't afford it. No "interest only" crap in my book...I smelled a rat on that business. I just felt that it was important to maintain that kind of standard for myself. It was the right way to do things. I would also have the mortgage broker sit down with the client in the early days of looking for a home. She would explain to them EXACTLY what their loan would entail, what the terms were and how much they could comfortably qualify for. This put us on the right track in the pursuit of their home, and not have them looking at homes they couldn't afford.

As for the other agents, I just never fit in. I never wanted to. I completely hated these people. Not my tribe. Many of them would stab you in the back to get one step in front of you. I was always the person to try and help the new agents get on their feet, or if someone was having a problem, I would do what I could to help them. I love the people I sold houses to--they are still some of the best people I know. The other agents--many of which I saw last night...auuugh! Glad not to work with you anymore.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

The Insane Plan

When I tell friends of our decision to sell the farm, I am typically met with open mouthed stunned stares of disbelief. I think that the reason for this, before I even get to telling them about the live aboard boat part, is also the reason why this is such a good decision: I had too many ideas for the farm.
For the last 15 years I have not only been spending almost every spare moment working on improving the farm, but also planning and drawing out what I want to do next. I have shared many of these plans with the now incredulous friends, and thus their reaction is not surprising.
It all really started twelve years ago with the first Tractorfest. We spent the better part of the summer clearing and leveling the field, campsites, and building a stage. It was an amazing day, with great music and good times with friends that has built some enduring friendships. Preparing for this annual event ironically made us somewhat anti-social. We always seemed to set the bar a little higher, and so when we saw a house in Hansville was going to be torn down, we saw an opportunity to get the materials to build a recording studio.
We stripped the house, salvaging as much of the roof and interior as possible, and then cut the walls and subfloors into ten and twelve foot sections, later to be reassembled as 12 by 20 cabins back at the farm. In the process we called in a lot of favors, but our friends seemed to revel in our crazy scheme.
The studio got built first, and has functioned as a practice space, recording studio, guest house, party room for the kids, (it is really nice to send a bunch of noisy kids out to a completely separate building,) and more recently as a Home theater with a ten foot wide projection screen. The guest house got built next, at a 90 degree angle to the first building, and then I cut cedar beams to frame up the truss that support the roof over the stage that is built in between them. That stage hosted the bands for Chloe’s sweet sixteen, as well as the tenth anniversary Tractorfest. The concrete work for the courtyard still needs to be done, but it is already an epic stage.
When I was approached by the owner for Burma Queen, a 56’ 1926 steam boat, about moving her to our property to save her, an unexpected opportunity presented itself. Jerry had a bulldozer with a six way blade that he lent me to do the dirt work to clear a site for the boat. The other two bulldozers I had already acquired were very tired, and while I had Jerry’s machine, I was able to do a lot of things I had wanted to do for awhile, like finish the road off the back of the property to connect with the old logging road on the 200 acres of timber trust, clear and level, build a circular drive around the front of the house, and do the site work to level the back of the house in preparation to put in the footings for an addition.
I had big plans for the house too. I was going to use Insulated Concrete Forms to put up a retaining wall and load bearing walls for the addition. This would have housed a mechanical room, sauna, work space, a solarium (it has good southern exposure for passive solar gain,) and expanded the upstairs and downstairs bathrooms. I was also going to add a loft bedroom when I reworked the roofline.
A friend who builds water features and owes us a favor was going to build a waterfall on the lower end, which was going to instigate yet another project to build a cedar lodge perched above it. Even further out was a subterranean recording studio above the waterfall, which I had already cleared a spot for. Then there was also the boat I cut in half as a club house for Katrianna, or the other half that was going to a balcony/ bar behind the stage.
So when people look at me and say, “Why are you selling the farm, you had so many plans,” they are also answering the question. I had so many plans, it was going to take the rest of my life to get them all done. For the last fifteen years I have been driving past my prize possession, our sailboat Gullmar, to work on a house that is worth half as much, while thinking I would get to it soon. They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Thinking I was going to get it all done and go sailing into the sunset was pure insanity. Now we have a sane plan to do just that.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Resolution-By Vince

I’ve heard people say that you will do all the things you always wanted to do to your house just before you sell it. I had always scoffed at this notion, but now have to admit that at least in my current situation, this adage looks to be true. After discussing this with several coworkers, they shared additional data points to support this conclusion.
So what is it about the human experience that causes us to put off all of these changes until we have made the decision to move on? Several explanations come to mind.
Is it ego? We all seek validation, and want people to see value in what we have accomplished. Do we finish things just before we pass them on in order to validate the vision we had of what they could be? In our current situation I am trying to be much more pragmatic about what I do, or don’t do, to prepare the house for sale. This is not because I am above wanting to seek validation, but purely out of practicality. There is simply too much to finish for me to even contemplate trying to do it all. In fact, that there is so much to do was core to our decision to move on. I could spend the next thirty years working on the house and the property at the expense of doing the things that truly inspire me. Right now we are in triage mode. What must be finished in order to get the house to sell quickly and smoothly. We are prioritizing the things that could lead to questions, and or require having to hire out to correct before closing. We want the new owners to have a good foundation on which to customize their new home to fit their needs. What we do not want to do are things that are to our tastes that the new owners will tear out and do over.
Is it the focus that comes with getting a clear vision of where you want to go that helps you make these choices? In our case this is certainly a major factor. As I mentioned, we are performing Triage. It is a lot easier to decide just to put the drywall back up when you are not still debating if you should install hydronic heating tubes under the floor first. When you aren’t going to live with a decision for forty years, you can distance yourself emotionally enough to see that you were never going to install that tubing anyway, so just finish it, paint it a neutral color, or don’t if you don’t have time, and let the next guy figure it out. Let them decide what color tile they want in that bathroom.
Another factor in our case is that we were always working around stuff. Now that we are downsizing and preparing to move out, I can see us having most of the furniture and stuff out of the house before we sell it. It is a lot easier to repaint or fix the drywall in an empty room, or finish the counters in the kitchen when you are moved out, or close to it.
Some of the issues we simply can’t put off. For instance, when we bought the house our agent talked us out of having a survey. She was the selling agent on our property, and the listing agent on the five acres next door that was closing about the same time. She swore up and down that she had walked the property with the sellers, and that they had had the property surveyed and staked. I have been over every square inch of that property and have never found a single stake. Now with the advent of Google earth, Zillow, and the like you can go look at satellite imagery with the parcels and lines marked out. Lo and behold, the property line runs right thru the neighbor’s mobile home, which was sited while we were waiting to close. We have consulted with a lawyer, and we know what needs to be done. We will have to pay for a survey, and go negotiate with the neighbor to do a property line readjustment. We've known it for awhile, but it is easy to procrastinate when you have time.
I remember a conversation Care and I had with a friend over coffee about transformative moments. We were talking about addiction, and other self destructive behavior patterns, and he made the comment that people decide to change under two circumstances. One, they are at rock bottom, have lost everything, and thus have everything to gain by changing, or, they have nothing to lose, and see the possibilities.
Our decision to sell the house and go back to boating has definitely forced us to lose some of our preconceptions about what was and wasn’t possible, and shed some of our baggage. In hindsight, we had nothing to lose that we really needed, (or that in reality was just weighing us down,) and we are definitely for the first time in years seeing the possibilities.