Generational Waves

Posted on August 13, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

My head feels like it just came off a boat ride. My balance is tuned to react to waves, so sitting still has an undercurrent of expected adjustments. This might be because I spent three hours on ferries yesterday on a thirteen hour trip from Cortes Island up in Canada down here to home on my island of Whidbey. The ride was smooth. My internal waves have more to do with my time at Hollyhock Resort on Cortes. Every year some friends gather as diverse a crowd as possible for almost a week of commiseration, consideration, and calls to action about the planet, its people, and our role in the world and the universe. Oh yeah, and it is a good party. Diversity extends across generations and it stretched and shaped every topic.

It is too easy to limit our social connections to reasonable facsimiles of ourselves. Community may contain diversity, but it is based on commonality. The internet has freed the flow of information, but many people use it to concentrate on their favorite topics and have discussions with agreeable people, from a personal perspective. Pittsburgh Steeler fans don’t suddenly became enraptured with cricket matches in Australia. Many conferences and gatherings are based on common topics, otherwise they would be exercises in chaos.

The folks I hung out with for the last week aren’t threatened by a bit of chaos. Some of them actively produce it. It makes for a good party, or at least a memorable one. It also makes for more memorable conversations.

There was a group exercise that concentrated on age diversity. Elders were paired with young folk and we shared our stories of change. What inspired our acceptance of change in our lives? Afterwards we sat down, but organized with the youngest at one end and the oldest at the other end of the hall. Much was talked about regarding the advantage of different perspectives. Comments ping-ponged from one side of the room to the other. A statement was made about the value of generational diversity, which was true, but it revealed a point by emphasizing the value to the extremities of age in the room. A hand went up in the middle.

What about us? The question wasn’t phrased that way. Maybe it was a comment instead, but the essence was the same. What about the middle-aged people that watched the ping-pong of ideas being tossed back and forth over their heads?

I enjoy the group that filled the hall because they do not balk at challenges. Simple social norms are easily modified and the conversation became more segmented as BabyBoomer, Gen X, Gen Y, Millenial, etc. Go find the links on your own because I find them arbitrary.

The intermediate groups pointed out that they are left out of many such discussions. The youth are emphasized because they are the greatest potential for change. That’s always been true and moreso now. Mentoring and other forms of support are directed at them because that is the most powerful way to change the world and improve the future. Baby boomers receive a lot of the spotlight because they aren’t babies anymore. They are the greatest source of experience, connections, and money – though even in such an open-minded crowd riches are talked about with euphemisms. Some of the comments from the middle ages (that’s a joke folks) were that they could use support and that they had much to offer too.

Many conversations reach to the extremes to define the bounds of an issue. It is a useful tool that I enjoy employing. But I am also an extreme independent moderate. I know, am certain, that the answer is most likely to be nearer the middle. Anything that only exists at its extremes is hollow. I’ve found the greatest value in the conversations happening back from the edge.

I sat there quietly. I know that I have much to offer, and that after last week’s DNDN collapse and my personal Triple Whammy I also could use support. Many others are in similar situations. But I kept quiet because I was reflecting on the group dynamic.

As the group attempted to include more people they added the labels I mentioned above, Gen X et al. Each slice segmented the crowd and enriched the debate. Some missed the Sixties and their dynamism. Some haven’t caught on to social media. Distinctions were made around technology or social change. Each slice through a specific date separated two individuals into this camp and that camp, us and them. It was necessary for the conversation, but I noticed that the line nearest me bounced back and forth from my left to my right. I didn’t feel integral to either.

Humanity has been counting generations for generations, but we don’t birth successors and descendants in sync or even in waves. We are a near-continuum of individual births.

Generations are a handy way to describe the general influences of major events: The Great Depression, World War II, The Cold War, The Sexual Revolution, Civil Rights, Watergate, The Collapse of the Soviet Union, etc.

Generational labels describe influence. They do not define individuals.

Everyone has something to offer. Everyone can use support. Young can teach old about new. Old can teach young about experience. And young and old can happen at any age – well there’s probably a line back about the cradle. Labels are abstractions and people are real. When two people connect, it isn’t two generations getting together. It is two individuals, and maybe one consciousness.

In the closing ceremony we were asked to allow at least one of our vulnerabilities to show. We were asked to describe one of our real needs without abstractions. Here I will pass along a simplified version of mine that may paraphrase those of many other people:
“I could use some help here and I’ve got a lot to offer.”

Of course, a little luck wouldn’t hurt. Where is that lottery ticket?

Oh yeah, and as for those waves – the Canadian ferries ride smooth. Do you think a week of parties might have something to do with the room softly settling?

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Unfortunately Common Ignorance

Posted on August 9, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

What in the world is going on? I won’t tell you. I’ve been out of easy communication for days, thanks to a trip to resort in Canada: Hollyhock. Just by chance I’m up here, out of the way, while enormous waves are tumbling through the financial world. Ironically, the visit is to coordinate and learn from as diverse a crowd as is practical. Even amongst veterans of the World Bank, financial institutions, wealth managers, investors, entrepreneurs, and advocates of alternative economies, no one knows exactly what’s going on. Ignorance is common.

These are not ignorant people. They are brilliant, educated, motivated, and passionate about finding sustainable solutions to many aspects of this world. The majority are not the money types. The majority are artists, philosophers, teachers, healers, and philanthropists. After listening to many of them, I think we may understand art and spirituality better than we understand money and the economy.

Money was invented to make life easier. Barter came first, but it has lots of limitations if more than two people or more than two villages are involved. Money was tangible, exchangeable, and non-perishable. Money was very handy for  trading between farmers, craftsfolk, and service providers. The local doctor wants to be paid in something more than only chickens.

Debt was also invented to make life easier. It enabled larger projects for businesses and better homes and education for people. My mortgage is why I have a house.

One of the topics we discussed was the nature of currency and debt and how that all plays into our lives. it is a diverse group and multi-national so the distinctions between capitalism, marxism, democracy, aristocracy and a few other -cracies made for a fascinating discussion. There were some intriguing combinations present. If nothing else, I enjoyed the notion of the marxist-entrepreneur. One person even pointed out the fact that the pyramids and cathedrals were funded by economies that worked with perishable currency. I’ll take his word for it, but despite the resulting impressive infrastructure, I’m not interested in societies ruled by pharaohs or kings.

Everyone that talked started their discourse with the variations on the same caveat, “Well, I don’t understand everything that’s going on, but I can tell you about this . . . ” Ego or not, impressive credentials or not, wealthy or not, no one felt comfortable claiming sufficient comprehensive knowledge of how money, debt, economics, and governmental policy are entwined. It was also obvious that these folks were smarter than the average legislator or senator. If such a group of experts can’t claim expertise, then what chance is there for solutions to come from government?

The first session pointed a lot of blame outside the room. Government, financial institutions, cabals, conspirators, and vague references to “them” were easy targets. It was their fault.

An unrelated session talked about people who stood up in situations that seemed hopeless and futile with too few resources and too little expertise, yet they succeeded. They succeeded because they took personal responsibility.

We had a second session. Placing blame got nothing done, except to raise the anxiety level. We decided to get positive and get responsible. What could we do? Did anyone have first hand experience implementing at least partial solutions.?

The ignorance was gone. The energy came back. Solutions ranged from using subtle pressure to swing corporate policies, down through mid-level socially responsible venture capitalism, down to community currencies and cooperative exchanges, down to the power of individual introspection into personal values and actions.

I’ve blogged about some of the direct actions I’ve taken. As time allows I’ll blog about the others.

The key was that while no one can understand or therefore explain the current crisis, all of us can do something that makes the situation better. If you earn money, if you spend money, if you maintain a household, if you have a job, you can affect change. Look to those changes that are in, and especially along the borders of, your comfort zone. Courageous types can go beyond, but their courage also means that they have fluid definitions of comfort.

On a personal level, I recommend going back to the roots of financial responsibility that I listed in my book,
“Invest for the future. Pay yourself first. Diversify. Think long term. Get started now. Don’t spend more than you make. Put some away for a rainy day. Don’t try to get rich quick. Slow and steady wins the race. Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.”
When I feel that the world is out of control, I remind myself that, whether that is true or not, I always have some part of my life that I can control; and then I find ways to empower myself from within that.

Amidst my financial turmoil, which has little to do with global economics, I know that by living frugally and my understanding my skills, talent and experience, I can make many good things possible. There are no guarantees, and that goes both ways. There are no guarantees that the crisis will be catastrophic, despite what the media portrays. There are no guarantees that our current institutions and their solutions will survive or prove to be fruitful. And I find it fascinating and unfortunate that it is common for people to be ignorant of the power they possess, yet personal action has the surest guarantee of all the options.

Be uncommon.
(And if you need a starting place, cruise over to The New Road Map Foundation or the Simple Living Forums. There are people who want to help because they like to help.)

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Whirling Dreams

Posted on August 6, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

Life without dreams is a lot of goal-less work. The financial turmoil has shelved lots of dreams, American and otherwise. This blog is inspired by my book, Dream. Invest. Live., and I admit reluctance to pointing that out. Two years ago may not have been the best time to publish a book about personal finance. But I also believe that challenges aren’t to be avoided. So I’m taking my own title as advice and going back to word one in the title: Dream – as starting over.

I am a long term optimist and a short term realist. The country is in better shape than the government. People are becoming more resourceful. Companies are making money, and regardless of economic statistics, are evidently hiring because I see friends shifting careers and breaking out of ugly situations. In the long term, we, because the government is us, we, will fix our problems. In the short term, dysfunctional institutions have yet to dissolve and emotions have yet to abate, so I am looking for a good job while this turmoil swirls down. (unsubtle plug: skills resume, chronological resume, artist resume)

Sleep happens, even in tumultuous times, and dreams do too. Describing dreams is always risky because the dreamer replays the imagery and symbolism while searching for words that might capture the concepts, but the listener only hears the words which may weave a different and unexpected tale. Let’s see how well I do. This week I had two dreams. In the first I was inside a rust-belt industrial shop as the floor turned into a whirlpool. A couple of people were staring at and concentrating on the center, and were being pulled into the vortex. I didn’t want to get sucked into that, turned the other way, saw a window and jumped through two panes of glass to escape as the floor began to move beneath me. I don’t know if they followed me.The second dream was completely different. George W. Bush dropped by to convince me to take the job of Aide and Advisory to the British Prime Minister. Different dreams but a common theme: my best path may be in unexpected directions. (But really, George Bush? Where’d that come from?)

This week measured my optimism. Despite the fact that my net worth dropped by half, a stock market recovery is delayed by quarters, and my country’s credit rating has dropped to AA+, after an initial total body shudder I saw an opportunity for the universe to amaze me. That shudder was significant. Gastro-intenstinal distress is annoying. The next day I surprised myself. Rather than looking at what could go wrong, I looked at what could go right. I was amazed at the possibilities. (Someone suggested I get a job as a part-time CFO. That would be fun. Then I found a job for a rocket aerodynamicist. Yep. And there was that possibility of a job on the island . . . )

There will always be an American Dream. We may mourn the evaporation of the dream of suburban or ex-urban home ownership, but that dream was recent. It came with expectations of hard work resulting in tangible benefits. Prior to that, during the Depression, hard work didn’t seem to show a benefit, merely survival. Dreams took a nap for a while. Scroll back before the Depression and the dream was of quick wealth in the Roaring Twenties. Prior to that the dream was the dream of homesteading. The home wasn’t as important as the land. The United States of America was a dream of democracy, though packaged as a republic. The first Europeans saw the American continent as opportunity to escape from the constraints of aristocracy and theocracy.

Dreams change as we live. Life is what happens while you are making plans. Especially in times like these, plans change, life changes, dreams change.

People’s dreams seem to be shifting to eliminating excess, aiming for sustainability, and finding values in themselves rather than in institutions. Or maybe that’s just what I see because I live on an island. Islanders are resourceful because islands have limited resources. Islanders frequently move to islands to live lives away from the mainstream. I see the shift here, but I hear about it otherwhere too.

The world seems to be in a whirl. America’s bond rating has dropped for the first time. The climate is swinging through unseen extremes with little chance of settling into something that meets our predictions. Power centers are in motion and are harder to track despite the great visibility within the information age.

Trying to understand the grand and global shifts can be futile and headache-inducing. That’s too much to shove into one skull. I guess, but I don’t worry, because I know I can’t know every nuance and possibility. I can, however, find enough to fit within one skull. I start by thinking about one life, mine. What do I need? What do I want? What do I have? What else do I need to do? Me first is not a long term strategy, but in a disaster even the Red Cross advises people to make sure they and their immediate environment are safe first. If you’re already in the lifeboat it’s easier to save others.

In times of stress the human body can withdraw into the fetal position. That only works if the crisis is short and life returns to normal. Laying still may not be safe. Standing still may not be safe. Finding a new dream or revising an existing one can point me in a new direction that turns crisis into opportunity.

The universe may amaze me, but I might have to dream a bit different, think a bit different, and look in new directions. Does anyone have a good link for the job of Aide and Advisory to the British Prime Minister? I’d give it a whirl.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Triple Whammy

Posted on August 4, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

Triple whammies hurt, even when they are more like two whammies and a flounder. The beginning of August has been atrocious for my portfolio. Dendreon missed its numbers and the stock, DNDN, tanked. My net worth dropped about half and my semi-sustainable lifestyle is at least temporarily threatened. It’s time to look for a job.

I wrote the book Dream. Invest. Live. because I have decades of experience in stock investing. My investing has enabled a return to college, houses, early retirement, and a new career. Friends pointed out that I could explain personal finance and investing in practical terms, so rather than continually answer questions verbally, maybe I could put them into a book. I did. The basis of the book wasn’t just investing though. Investing is teamed with optimism and frugality. Frugality makes early retirement more likely and more sustainable. Looking at companies frugally provides a perspective that makes personal investing easier.

Investing can be made easy, but it can not be made risk-free. That’s true of stocks, bonds, anything.

I prefer a diversified portfolio, and I tend to invest in companies that I can understand but that may be mis-understood by the mainstream financial institutions. My strategy gives me the opportunity to buy companies when they are small and sell them when they have grown large, and their stocks have finally caught up with the company’s value. It is a risky way to invest though because stocks are risky and misunderstood stocks swing more wildly through the market. A diversified portfolio lessens the chance that they’ll all be down at the same time and increases the chance that some will be up when the others are down.

The chances worked against me. My three most prominent holdings, AMSC, DNDN, and MVIS are all down at the same time. Each has had recent bad news. In each case I think the market has over-reacted, but the market is tending to over-react because fear is peddled in massive quantities since 9/11. The details of each story can fill this blog, but I’ll direct you to my post, “Semi-Annual Exercise“, which has links to the pertinent discussion boards.

I am an optimist. I think American Superconductor will probably see the delayed orders restarted and the superconducting cable business or its other projects begin to generate revenue. I think Dendreon is onto a major innovation in biotech, but the change is so dramatic that medical and insurance institutions are finding holes in their understanding of the treatment. The rest of the pipeline is being treated as if it was worth nothing, which is probably not the case. Microvsion sits and waits for a cheap green laser, which existed but wasn’t cheap enough, and then was delayed, but is hopefully ready any month now.

In the meantime my bills must be paid, and my years of saved living expenses has drastically diminished. Don’t worry too much. Even amidst this dismal period I have enough to take care of bills for at least a few years, especially if my books sell (the other ones have nothing to do with finance), or my photos sell, or if my classes continue to do well. Like I mentioned in an earlier post, I have many “Lines In The Water”. But for now, those revenue streams aren’t enough to pay my mortgage. Very soon I may have to dip into my IRA, years ahead of time; and unfortunately, my IRA is basically those stocks I just described. Maybe they’ll come back. Maybe GGOX.OB will come through strong.

Times like these are when frugality is a comfort. I know what my expenses are. I know what I can cut back. A frugal lifestyle means that it won’t take much money to make a big difference. A job that pays as well as my time as an engineer would dramatically re-establish my comfort level.

I blog because the content of any finance book rapidly ages, with few exceptions. I blog because personal finance can sound abstract and distant, and I think it is important to show the reality, both good and bad. The best way to do that for me is to pass along my experiences. I also blog to openly disclose what I’ve done and how it’s affected me. I don’t want to hide, though I also don’t want to look at my portfolio right now either.

This has not been a pleasant experience. My emotions have churned my stomach and my thoughts have contributed to a headache, but I recognize that it is all temporary. For many stockholders, their reactions are more severe. Some will be scared away from stock forever. That’s why I emphasize that very few people should invest in stocks, but that those who have the skills and particular flavor of fortitude necessary can find a way to possibly fund their life. DNDN went down over $22. The possible range of news could have equally likely risen the stock that much. I’ve got champagne for that.

As I wrote this a friend replied within an email thread. She was checking on how I was doing. I mentioned that with everything going on in my life, “I give the universe the opportunity to positively amaze me. ” She agreed, and she plans to amaze the universe. That’s optimism plus.

To any stockholders in AMSC, DNDN, MVIS, or other beaten-down stocks, I sympathize. To anyone considering investing in stocks, check your risk tolerance. And as I write this I realized that, despite such a dramatic drop in DNDN, the price is above what I paid. I’ve been down here before and I now know the path that we may travel again.

In the meantime, if you know of a good job that could use the skills of a writer/photographer/speaker/innovator/ex-aerospace-engineer, send me a note. And I’ll fire up the word processor and update my resume.

“Never give up. Never surrender” – Galaxy Quest

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

An Explicable Life

Posted on August 3, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

How do you answer the question, “So, what do you do?” Your answer, and how long it takes you to think of it, can tell a lot about your sense of identity. That’s not a typical daily concern, but people who’ve left the world of paychecks can find the answer comes uncertainly and slowly. Living frugally may allow early retirement, but using the word retirement may hijack the discussion. What do I do? Allow me to explain.

“Allow me to explain” is a bad answer. The person that asked probably wanted a job title (engineer), and would probably accept a role (American), or a passion (dancer). I retired, or at least left paycheck employment based on sufficient resources for a comfortably sustainable lifestyle, about 13 years ago. (Pardon a personal moment as I let that sink in yet again. – Whoa.) Retired is the wrong word. Since I left Boeing I’ve taught karate though now I only train myself, written five books and continue to write more, sold my photos and continue to sell more, helped people start or steer businesses, aided various official charities and have been unofficially charitable, taught various classes and given a variety of public talks, and am probably overlooking something but don’t want to spend time being complete. You probably got the point earlier in the paragraph and skipped past a lot of the details. If you continued reading though, go check out my bio for more. The answer isn’t concise because my life doesn’t fit under one label.

Many “retired” people have the same issue. Our society and civilization are changing and we need a new vocabulary. We’re living longer. We’re living longer than our occupations and sometimes our relationships too. Retired was originally a very short period. When it lasts a few years, retired is a good enough label. After a decade or so though people with passion have probably found a new vocation or an avid avocation. If the new activity makes money, does the “retired” label stick?

Labels and vocabulary also fail at describing modern relationships. A few decades ago divorces were uncommon and scandalous. Empowerment, empty-nesting, decayed support networks mean marriages aren’t as permanent and the frequency of divorce worn down the stigma. What does a middle-aged single person call themself? What’s even more confusing is what do middle-aged unmarried couples call themselves? Spouse sounds like married. Partner sounds like a business relationship. Significant other has too many syllables and is emotionally limp.

In the last week or so I’ve finished the photo essay Twelve Months at Penn Cove, scheduled to teach classes in Modern Self-Publishing and Creating Your Photo Book, been interviewed on KWPA radio about my book Twelve Months at Merritt Lake, held meetings for new ventures like island movie productions and classes in Social Media for Artists, and have finished and shipped two self-published books (one is private for my family, one is semi-private for students in my Modern Self-Publishing class). That list skips the volunteer and charity work. Over the weekend someone asked me what I do and even I noticed my pause.

I’m a single guy. Being a guy I can claim oblivious manners. After I’m seen with a single woman I’m asked if it was a date, or if is she my girl-friend, or some question equally expected to be answered with simple labels. That’s when I step into oblivious mode and answer that I don’t know. My vocabulary fails.

Mostly what I don’t know is how to simply explain a self-defined lifestyle. I’m not alone. Many people through intent or circumstance are changing occupations and relationships. These have not been easy times for most. My transitions weren’t easy either.

When I left Boeing, I quickly learned that calling myself retired upset conversations. The common challenges were, “You’re not old enough to be retired.”, or “Well, you must have been lucky.” In the first case they didn’t accept that retirement is based on money not age. In the second case they didn’t believe that conscious frugality existed or could succeed.

After my first book I used the title, writer. People have low and broad expectations of writers and they’d continue the conversation with that neat answer inserted in the blank. When I started selling my photographs I switched to writer and photographer, but that didn’t last long because it had too many syllables. Now I pick whichever one I want: writer, photographer, or even artist. All of them fit that blank and fit people’s impressions of my lifestyle and lack of fashion sense. Some friends and colleagues have also supplied a couple of labels I enjoy: social innovator and instigator. Dancer fits too, but all of these other labels end up with more explanations than are comfortable within most conversations.

Our labels have power over our perceptions. I realize that labels are arbitrary and merely language constructs, but I admit that calling myself an artist, or a karate instructor, or an ex-rocket-scientist subtly shifts my attitude. Fortunately, I have a good transmission because I shift that attitude and perception frequently. I don’t get stuck in ruts for long.

A frugal life, a conscious life, an artistic life, is a personal life, but we are social creatures which means that we’re expected to live explicable lives. So, I pick a labels that almost fit. I don’t sew them on or get them tattooed. Instead I wear them like costumes, something that doesn’t shock the neighbors, fits and covers well enough, and may have nothing to do with the body inside.

Now, it’s time for me to switch from being a blogger to being a runner and then I’ll be a bill-payer and then a diner and then a photographer and then a homeowner and then, and then . . .

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Island Time

Posted on July 30, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

Whidbey is finally experiencing a day of summer. The clouds burned off. The sun dried the lawn. The windows and doors are open. It’s Saturday, and a fine day for feeling lazy. I’ve been so busy that I’m going to take this lazy man’s approach to today’s blog post and simply tell you what the last day’s been like living on island time.

Move to Whidbey, and probably other islands too, and you’ll hear about island time. Things get done, but they follow a different pace. It’s easy to assume things always move slower, but that isn’t right either. Most things move more slowly. Some of the most auspicious happen without warning.

Summer is the easiest season to see the difference between island time and American Standard. Year-round residents move along like diesels, steady and sure, and confident they’ll get to where they’re going. Visitors, weekenders, tourists, lost souls, raise the average energy. Horns honk. Car alarms wail. Harley’s rumble. Cell phones chatter. Sitting on my front deck I can easily hear conversations from five houses away. They, and this is an us and them thing, they have conversations in tones that would carry over sirens and traffic noise. There’s not much need for that when the loudest thing in the neighborhood is a flock of birds. All that extra noise and energy can’t sit still and a freneticism develops.

I live on the island. When I moved here I expected to head back to the mainland (aka Merika) at least once a week. Except for hiking, it’s become more like once a month or two. The culture shock is obvious.

Island time is not a philosophical choice. It is not an attitude imposed on the island by its residents. Island impose a lifestyle. Almost every road is two lanes with few passing zones. Pick the pace you want, but you’re probably going to spend a fair amount of time behind some vehicle that can’t go faster and that you can’t pass. Relax. You’re headed the same way. You’ll get there. Besides, it’s an island so to get really lost you’d have to cross a ferry or the one bridge. Where ever you’re trying to get to isn’t going anywhere. The ferries can be a reason to rush, but the chance for a speeding ticket usually isn’t worth getting to the terminal on time. There’ll be another one along shortly, or not at all. You can’t change that, and for all you know, the next run might be cancelled, or the lot is already full, or the schedule is slid because they had to steer around the whales. Leaving early to beat the crowd is a relative thing considering that the distance between any event and its parking spaces is less than half the length of any Merikan shopping mall. I will, however, get to The Clyde early (almost first run movies for only $6 + $1 popcorn), but that’s because I have a favorite writing seat in the back row.

Life on the mainland could work the same way, but there are competitive pressures. There’s always another lane to change to in the hope of getting ahead. Besides, cutting through traffic is weaving through strangers. They’ll probably never see you again. They’ll never know what they did to your blood pressure. Make your own career analogies.

Cut someone off on the island and they’ll recognize your car or your bumper sticker. It might even be news in the police blotter. Blue SUV with five bumper stickers and a fishing pole in back passed on the right . . . (Fictionalized for community harmony.)

Last night was Friday night. Downtown Langley had the Second Street Market where a couple of dozen artists, farmers, and shops set up tents in one block of the two main streets. They even had to post Detour signs. Gasp. I’d forgotten about it but happily stumbled into it on my way to meet with one media mogul (Hollywood style) and then had to walk through it again on the way to meet another media mogul (digital era). It was all relaxed and casual, running on island time, but it wasn’t lazy. The Market seemed to pop into existence, though I am sure someone was quietly working on it for a long time prior to it’s inaugural event. In that regard it’s probably like the Bailey Saturday Art Market that I helped initiate: a small idea kicked around for weeks or months that suddenly becomes established.

My two Friday evening meetings happened simply and easily. A casual encounter in a gallery led to an idea for the first. A chance comment amongst another group led to another. I’ve watched similar events occur back when I lived in Merika, but they were dismissed rather than emphasized. At the same time as those meetings I was missing out on another meeting that was equally interesting, but choices must be made and I only found out about the other one after commitments were made. No matter. It all works out. The one meeting was in a great coffee shop that turns into a BBQ joint at 5PM. The other was in the first sustainable tavern Langley’s had since the waterfront one shut down. The Dog House was great, but it’s tough to sell a bar on premium waterfront property. It would take a lot of beer to pay for that place. Instead we sat outside Mo’s (which doesn’t have a web site despite being across the street from the Center for New Media), a couple blocks back from the water, but right along two popular pedestrian routes. We sat there to organize one event (more later) but had at least a half dozen passing conversations with friends and with variations of “Hey, send me an email about that when you get home. I think I might have something that’ll help.”

Island time looks relaxed and casual, and it is at its artistic perfection; but it isn’t the different pace that’s as noticeable to me. What’s apparent to me is the acceptance of things as they are and awareness of common goals and complementary skills. There’s a recognition that fastest isn’t always best and may not get things accomplished soonest. Enabling is more time and energy efficient than forcing. There’s a frugality based on respect of time, limited resources, and impressive human talents. And what goes around comes around and that that’s much more obvious on an island where that return trip is pretty quick.

This morning I led a took a break from selling my photos at the Bailey Saturday Art Market because I was tour guide for the local land trust property called Hammon’s Preserve. Yes, it is possible to spend two hours touring a 9.5 acre ex-farm when the people in the group are actively interested in what’s happening in their neighborhood. That and it was free. Islanders can be easy to entertain.

Island time can happen anywhere, but the individual actions get lost in the crowds of a city. A city has all of the same possibilities and events as an island because both are inhabited by humans, a very social species. But at least here on Whidbey, it’s easier to respect each other because we get to know each other and because an action’s consequences are much more apparent. That can happen anywhere, and I’m glad I’ve found it here.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Fresh Idea Cafe Computer

Posted on July 28, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

Welcome to a new feature of my blog: Fresh Ideas.

Ideas are powerful. Ideas are free. A frugal guy like me likes powerful and free. Frequently, or at least often enough, ideas come to mind that might be inventions. Maybe someone else has thought of them too. But for years I’ve compiled these ideas in a notebook, hoping some day to be able to develop and possibly patent them. I will continue to do that with some ideas, but I decided that I’d also like to simply describe some here as a way to speed their development.

Today’s Fresh Idea: what I call the cafe computer – a computer that stands vertically when not in use, but with a detachable or downward folding keyboard.

A cafe computer is very similar to a laptop, but I realized that few people actually put laptops in their laps. Portability and mobility continue to be important, but most laptops end up sitting on tables or desks, putting the sensitive electronics in danger of spills while also taking up furniture real estate. My idea is to have a portable computer that contains the elements of previous desktop computers that stored almost everything in the monitor with the portability and closed shell design of a laptop.

Almost all of the electronics would reside in the same framework as the monitor. When closed, the keyboard would cover the monitor screen and would rest above the desk or table top. The monitor would have feet or supports that would also fold away for transport. Ideally, the entire device could also be mounted on a wall, with the keyboard detached for use. The keyboard and possible mouse could also be wireless. A wireless keyboard would weigh much less than a laptop, so putting it on the lap would be less noticeable; and keeping the main components in the monitor would put the heat source where cooling is easier and overheating laps wouldn’t be a problem. Dropping a keyboard would be less troubling than dropping a laptop.

I call it a cafe computer because it should fit on a coffeeshop table, a cafe table, while being safe from spills and possible sticky residue.

No new components need to be invented. This should merely be a repackaging of existing components.

I won’t belabor the details because I want this Fresh Idea series to be fun. Besides, as with any new idea, it may already have been invented. But any new idea also has one moment when it was first thought of and brought into the world. This is one step in how patents are made, and solutions are found.

If nothing else, being more open with my ideas may encourage others to recognize fresh ideas of their own. There’s more than enough work to do in the world, and many of the old ideas are no longer solutions. This is not the time to hide fresh ideas in notebooks or cabinets.

I’d include a sketch if I could only find some good cheap sketching software, but there’s none on this MacBook. Time to rummage around the web.

In the meantime, what’s your Fresh Idea?

Posted in Fresh Ideas | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Instant Expert

Posted on July 27, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

Overnight success can come after decades of work. Work, work, work, smile and nod at those that think you’re wasting your time, and maybe, but not assuredly, something good can happen. I’m finally going to read Malcolm Gladwell’s  frequently referenced book, Outliers, in which he talks about various aspects of success (I think, I haven’t read it yet) and the 10,000 hour rule. A lot of seemingly sudden success is backed up by overlooked work. Anyone who has been awake for 10,000 hours (sorry kids) might reach that goal. It can happen sooner (hey kids, there’s a chance after all). It also might never happen (rats). But I suspect that expertise is more common than appreciated and we have more experts than we realize. We could use some experts right now. The trick is getting them to recognize themselves. Recognition can happen in an instant.

I’ve heard about the 10,000 hour rule through many sources. Sometimes such concepts spread because they are appealing. Sometimes they even have data behind them but many of the ideas that pervade the media are hollow. The 10,000 hour rule seems to be backed up by data and research. I must learn more.

Even though I am “retired”, I was in a meeting the other day. Lots of ideas were being kicked around, and as is usual for volunteer organizations, there was more passion than people, more ideas than money, and more jobs than volunteers. Amidst the cross talk someone asked me to talk about social media and whether it could help. I’m no expert but I mentioned this blog, and how I spread the word beyond my subscribers by also announcing each new post via facebook, twitter, and LinkedIn. A comment or two later someone asked me, seriously I think, about when I was going to teach a class in that, whatever “that” was. I directed them over to a friend who is an expert, Russell Sparkman.

Ducking out of the limelight is common. I see it done by artists, dancers, money managers, tradesmen, orators, and organizers. In some cases they point to official organizations that bestow accreditations, as if the organizations are the only possible authority. I definitely dodge being called a money expert because 1) I don’t think I’m an expert, and because 2) the state and the feds are very particular about financial advice. (If you haven’t noticed, I try to write about what I do with my money, not what you should do with yours. I am an example, not an official authority.) Yet, the lack of a badge or certificate does not change where knowledge and wisdom resides.

There are very few topics that aren’t covered with expertise within my group of friends, officially stamped or not. I suspect we are all in that situation, though to various degrees.

Our worlds are changing. Environmental, financial, cultural worlds are being modified by natural cycles, the impact of our civilizations, and the coupling of the two. New types of problems are arising to which conventional solutions are ineffective. A friend asked me what to do about the debt ceiling and possible economic collapse. We’ve never experienced that in this country. Fortunately, another friend who is an expert addressed this in his regular video. Friends helping friends is one of the frugal person’s most powerful tools. Other problems aren’t so readily addressed. How does an artist exhibit their work online without losing control of the image? How can I know whether my attempt at an organic garden will provide me with a balanced diet? The slugs’ diet seems to be fine. My corn, squash, and beans were all mowed down though.

I’m learning to let others judge whether I am an expert enough or not. The only thing I do better than anyone else is being Tom Trimbath. From engineering through writing across photography and into charitable work, I can always point to people who are more accomplished and effective. But what I’ve learned is that sometimes being considered an expert is a personal thing, and that personal judgement is made by the person seeking the expertise.

Pardon the small personal plug but allow me to mention my upcoming series of classes. Every month for the next few months, and maybe beyond, I’ll be teaching a clinic or a seminar about Modern Self-Publishing at the Center for New Media in Langley. I’ll also help teach a class on Creating Your Photo Book with the folks at Fine Balance Imaging in September. There might even be another class or two at each of those sites. I’m not an expert at the modern version of self-publishing, but I do have some expertise and am evidently good enough at passing it along. I didn’t set out to teach people about publishing their own book. I started out by bicycling across America, which turned into a book, Just Keep Pedaling, which encouraged me to write another book, and then another, which also produced compliments for my photos, which resulted in my series of photo books on blurb. Along the way I started passing along what I’d learned about publishing and now I have a history of teaching those classes. It wasn’t a sudden thing and it wasn’t intentional.

And yet it was sudden, despite how it felt.

I didn’t and don’t consider myself an expert, but at some point, at some moment, someone else did. Within their mind, I was labeled an expert. And maybe I am expert enough for them even though I am very aware of how much more I have to learn.

My point isn’t about me. It is about all of us. Regular readers may guess the quote that comes next.
“You know everybody is ignorant, only on different subjects.” – Will Rogers
And that I enjoy his unspoken and my inferred corollary which is that everybody is also brilliant only on different subjects. If you’re lucky, your brilliance is right for this time and place.

There’s a lot of work to do. And I am optimistic because within ourselves and our billions of neighbors, we probably have all the experts and expertise we need. But sometimes the key finding a solution is to acknowledge that moment when someone recognizes you as an expert. It will happen in an instant.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Group Think

Posted on July 23, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

Forget the wisdom of crowds. What do I want? Buying what I want has saved me a lot of money.

Crowds create group wisdom. Like minds gather, share similar thoughts, and build community from their mutual interests. At a minimum they preach to the choir, mimicking each other and repeating those first common thoughts. Their song becomes a chorus constantly repeated, without stanzas. Their canon is concrete and industriously protected. Most groups do more. They build on their common knowledge, returning to their base tenets, but realizing that differences within the group can be used to ratchet up the average as others learn. That’s how universities operate. Though the learning process is voluntary, testing the students recalls the preached choir because everyone gets measured to a canonical standard. For me the most fun comes from freer crowds that have passion in common, but that aren’t very worried about the details. Ideas freely flow, and may never be recorded or remembered, but a precious few may embody genius. The group may not last long though because the members may find themselves chasing an idea and forming a new group.

Groups teach and support, but groups can also exert phenomenal peer pressure. Fashion decrees desires. The fashion community tests many ideas within its ranks and then decides what the general public should want. I was heartened a couple of years ago when men’s shorts were in style to the point that they were included in formal tuxedoes. I wear shorts often, very often. But I’m not trying to set a trend, or make a statement. I’ve had long pants bind at the knee, pull at the waistband, and pinch my back. Long pants have thrown out my back. Shorts are healthier. I even get more vitamin D. Seeing a tuxedo with shorts brought a chuckle. I applauded the exploration of innovation, and acknowledged the possibility that the trend might survive, but I was sure that their motivation was far removed from mine.

The fashion industry, advertisers, politicians, and many ideological institutions evangelize. The more people that embrace their point of view, the more power they embody or the more money comes their way.

Conformity is also comforting. We are social creatures. The social aspect asks for at least some commonality. In the words of one of my favorite authors, “Shared pain is lessened; shared joy is increased . . .” – Spider Robinson.

I was raised in a conventional neighborhood. Get a job. Go to church. Get married. Wear a tie. Root for the home teams. Collectively those acts define a comfort zone.

Now I live in an unconventional community. The neighborhood of houses is conventional, but my community of friends is built from unconventional free-thinkers, people who are artistic even if they aren’t artists. Their comfort requires stepping out of their comfort zones on a regular basis. Most can only do that because they know there is a community of similar spirits they can return to when it is time to recuperate and share stories.

“If everyone else jumped off a bridge, would you?” – my mom, ironically one of the great proponents of fitting in.

About the time I went to college I started applying her advice to many aspects of my life. College professors may protect a canon, but college students create a marvelous rebellion against authority and convention. By the end of my first pass through college I’d decided to abandon television and cold beer. I preferred books and warm Guinness. Regular church services were replaced with personal explorations of religious and philosophical texts. A few years later I replaced watching spectator sports with moving my own body by hiking and skiing. Bicycling and running stretched back to my high school days, and they gained prominence until I was running marathons and riding double centuries.

After graduation I entered that bastion of convention, corporate America in the name of Boeing. Suits and ties were the norm, but not for young engineers who worked more with computers than people. I’d moved to the Seattle area, back when it was closer to its pragmatic Scandinavian roots. Lifestyles were judged more on function than form. Hats replaced umbrellas. Hiking boots replaced leather loafers. My beard fit in. I wore business casual before it had a name.

The consequence of accidentally stepping out of convention was that my lifestyle was much more affordable. Instead of buying the things that everyone was supposed to buy, I was spending money on what I wanted. Because I was defining my personal style I was defining my personal fashion. My fashion doesn’t change on a whim. Money invested in clothes, equipment, or lessons meant less money spent chasing yet another whim or fashion. A bicycle may cost a thousand dollars, but it lasted years and cost far less and was healthier than buying season tickets every year.

Frugal living is conscious living, and while that can sound like a lot of work, eventually it eliminates eternally wasting effort chasing the crowd. With practice, that effort becomes expertise and ease.

Learning and understanding what I want has not been easy. I won’t trivialize the task. It has taken me decades to untangle what I want from what I was taught to want. Public media act as a constant pressure pushing in a direction that has no regard for the way I want to head. I’m still understanding my relationship with snack foods and beverages. Sometimes I make my own potato chips. Sometimes I like a bag of Tim’s Cascades. Mine are cheaper. His are crunchier.

Financial advice shouldn’t be given or taken frivolously. That’s one of the reasons it is federally regulated. Everyone’s situation is different and generalized statements are guaranteed to eventually fail for someone. But one piece of advice is powerful and pervasive. Understand your own wants and needs. No one can do it for you. One of the most powerful financial tools doesn’t cost anything except your time, no matter what the group thinks.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Magical Powerful Words

Posted on July 20, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

Thank you J. K. Rowling. Last night I saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2. My favorite parts were when the audience cheered a couple of heroes: Mrs. Weasley and Neville Longbottom. Harry, Hermione, and Ron didn’t get as much of an ovation. All of the (surviving) characters, and the author too, demonstrated the power of perseverance. They aren’t the only ones.

Last Saturday I taught my seminar/workshop on Modern Self-Publishing, a digital revolution that is redefining the publishing industry the way digital music and video redefined record labels and Hollywood. Big budget, traditional publishers and movies continue to operate. The Harry Potter franchise proves that. The Harry Potter franchise also sustains them too. What will bookstores sell next year? They’ll still be selling an entire shelf of Harry Potter tomes. DVD sales will survive quite a while too. But while the industry behemoths grind along, hundreds of thousands of writers find themselves looking up to Ms. Rowling, hoping for even a fraction of her success, and then return to stringing words together in new and artful ways.

J. K. Rowling’s story is typified as rags to riches, though I recall an interview where she didn’t see it that way. She had money problems, but she was very aware of people who were in much tougher situations. She wasn’t the only one spending time delving into story, agonizing over detail, and doing more than thinking about it. There are more writers than books. There are more stories than writers. It’s the lucky story that gets pulled from the common subconscious, crafted by a writer, and turned into a book; and it is the fortunate book that is presented to the world where it can enter the public conscience. That process turns a writer into an author, and possibly a very fortunate one. Nice consequence from such a simple beginning as an idea.

Yesterday morning, hours before the movie, I had a pre-interview meeting. Next week I’ll be interviewed on KWPA (live in Coupeville, streaming around the world, July 25th, 10AM Coupeville time) for a show that investigates Why Writers Write. It wasn’t until about my third book that I realized why I was out of synch with what some people expected from an author. They expected an author who was passionate about writing. They’d try to engage my enthusiasm for critique while attempting to coddle my ego because they perceived writers and artists as extraordinarily emotionally attached to their work. As a writer I want to know if readers enjoyed reading the book or got even a snippet of the message. My passion is for people (hello readers, I think you all are people but hello to the aliens too if you’re listening in), and my passion is for ideas.

Before I started blogging I was actively part of a writers group. Some groups are all flowers, rainbows and praise as they try to encourage every writer. Some are merciless as they strive for perfection of the art and the artist. I liked the group I was in because they straddled those two attitudes. For one of my works in progress I was told that the writing was so good that they missed the point. A compliment and a critique in the same line and nicely delivered.

Yesterday afternoon, part of a busy day if you can’t tell, I sat down with Joe Menth at Fine Balance Imaging to look over the preliminary edits of my next photo essay, Twelve Months at Penn Cove.

For the most part I treat digital photography as if it was film. I don’t crop, colorize, add or subtract. I also don’t clean my lenses often enough, don’t use a tripod, and make mistakes. Joe and Nancy (the shop’s co-owner and Joe’s mom) are good at spotting features I miss and covering up some of my most egregious mistakes. For most shots the differences are subtle. For some the end result is dramatically improved. (You can see the difference by looking at my gallery of untouched images on smugmug and the final product on Fine Balance’s gallery page.) I continue to wince when I look at one image that I know took Joe over an hour to clean. Hey, I’m taking nature photos, of course there are going to be dust spots and dew on the lens.

Joe and Nancy have worked with me and my images for years now. They know I look at things differently from most of their clients. They are a fine art print shop. Images are held to the highest standards and each image can be heavily invested with an artist’s vision, passion, and desire. My art is more than one image. Each of my photographs is part of a twelve month series of photos. Each photo is a phrase in a paragraph. Every month of images is a paragraph in a twelve-month-long chapter. Twelve Months at Penn Cove is chapter four of a five chapter story of Whidbey Island. My passion is for the island and its people. My goal is to give people the opportunity to see the entire range of the island across the range of seasons because most folks are too busy to do that themselves. If a print is more likely to end up in someone’s house or office because I tempered the artistic possibilities to keep it accessible, then my art succeeded because my art is the message, not the image.

Maintaining a clear internal goal and voice can be difficult, especially if it is uncommon. The scope of the Harry Potter series is much grander than most writers attempt. J. K.’s genius was partly in crafting good vignettes within the stories while being courageous enough to think into far arcs with complex characters (definitely more complex than most children’s books).

I don’t know where my art sits within such realms. I like to take on large projects, or at least I am aware that I’m better suited for it than most. J. K. Rowling didn’t know where her idea would go when she was in the midst of writing the first book. I don’t know where my art will go or where it will take me. The people that have shown up for my self-publishing clinics and seminars all have passionate ideas that could carry them on unexpected and possibly very fortunate journeys. It may sound trite to say that I am always inspired when I teach the class, but it is definitely true. Putting the seminar so close to seeing the final chapter of Harry Potter colored Saturday’s passions with powerful potential. Any of us could find ourselves on a similar path.

Art begins with ideas. Writers use words. Photographers use images. Ideas are cheap. The frugal part of me likes that: costs a little, worth a lot. Ideas are also ephemeral and powerful, two words which put together sound like a description of magic.

Yesterday was a busy day. Between the morning interview prep as a writer and the photo editing of the afternoon I had lunch. Actually, I “did” lunch, with a guy that brought his acting portraits (head shots sounds violent) and his resume. You see, we have this idea about making movies on Whidbey. It’s only an idea, but if we keep working on it and find some other passionate people, who knows where it will lead? Magical. Powerful. And it all begins with something that costs nothing: words.

(Coincidences happen. As I finished typing this a link came up for a movie being put together by some of my friends. Midway – Heart of the Pacific, a film by Chris Jordan, is powerful and beautiful imagery documenting the impact of plastic thrown into the Pacific. I’ve seen the images. They carry the message well. Go to the site for their eloquent take on the story of the albatross.)

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment