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.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
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
.
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?
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
.
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.
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....
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.
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.
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......
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......
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