Do No Harm

In retrospect, scheduling acupuncture on Monday and a dentist visit on Tuesday was lining up two ways to get poked with little bits of sharp metal. The one that involved the most needles was relaxing and less expensive. The other cost as much as a small kitchen appliance (I’m shopping for a new range) and involved negotiations to discourage negative commentary. They worked on different parts of me, but their styles and attitudes didn’t have to differ, yet they did.

Western medicine in under assault. Costs are rising. Insurance for providers and patients continues to become more complex and expensive. Tests are layered on tests to make sure that nothing is overlooked. As I wrote about recently (Comfortable Care, May 4, 2011) cramming all of those tests into a very short visit results in an assembly line running through a clinical factory. The health care workers may be nice folks, but they are under pressure to produce, and unfortunately it produces an uncomfortable environment. Recently I had anxiety attacks (or something like them – they weren’t officially diagnosed) whenever I visited the doctor’s office. My experience with western medicine had become a negatively reinforcing loop. That’s not healthy.

The dentist’s office shouldn’t be as onerous as the doctor’s office, even though they are both Doctors. The battery of tests aren’t as extensive. Maybe the insurance isn’t as high. Maybe the field of probable treatments is more constrained. In any case, I’ve used the same dentist for almost a decade because they do a good job. I’ve even traveled off-island to maintain that relationship, effectively adding a $30 surcharge to each appointment for ferry fees and gas. They do good work and have many other patients who travel hours. They tell me I’m not the only one.

Yet yesterday they unknowingly played out a Jekyll and Hyde episode as if to parody western medicine. The reception was pleasant, and where they told me about the other island travelers. The greeting by the hygienist was the typical small talk about family and housework.

But then, as the equipment was rolled in, she brought up the topic of my blood pressure. When I couldn’t tell her that it was lower because I hadn’t checked recently, she playfully chastised me by playfully reaching as if to playfully choke me into doing the right thing. It was done from a sense of humor, but looked very odd from my position in the chair. Fast forward to the end of the professional and cordial x-rays, cleaning and inspection. The dentist finished and started chatting as usual. He went into great detail about heart surgery in his family. After a short while I stopped him and asked him to change the subject because I didn’t want to wind up in an anxiety attack. Ah, but he just wanted to make a point, so he skipped ahead to the worst details of the number of bypasses, the various parts extracted or replaced, and the extensive recovery support. He was proud of the might and power of western medicine.

Finally I got him to stop. And I told him that what he saw as a long list of positives I saw as a long list of bills. Within his list of procedures I suspect that some where there to lower the risk to the hospital and providers as much as to help the patient. What he saw as a path back to health. I saw as a path towards possible bankruptcy.

I have health insurance, but it has limits and a high deductible. I have health insurance because we don’t have national health care, so I have to do what I can on my own. My restricted insurance costs as much as my food bill, and food is definitely more important for my health. My health insurance is really health care insurance, insurance against the costs of the health care system. The health care debate is decided by legislators and lobbyists, and I suspect that none of them have to worry about finding coverage. To them the issue must seem abstract. Otherwise calling something Romney-care or Obama-care would be a good thing because it includes the word care. Evidently care is not valued.

Ironically, I am paying my health insurance, doctor’s bills and many other bills by selling off my investment in a biotech company, Dendreon (DNDN), which only has one product (Provenge) and it’s expensive. Granted it treats prostate cancer better and safer than conventional treatments, but it also costs $93,000. That’s enough to bankrupt some folks, or at least severely cut into their savings. Dendreon has plans to help. Insurance and Medicare will cover it for some. And yet, Provenge is cheaper that chemo and radiation, as I understand it.

Western health care is expensive. But you knew that. Western health care is also based on the Hippocratic Oath, which includes the paraphrased “Do No Harm”.

If a procedure cures the patient but ruins their life, I contend that they have been harmed. I do not doubt my physicians’ motivations. For the most part they have my medical health in mind, but in this society and with this health care crisis, medical health is impacting financial health which is impacting medical health. Tests run without regard to cost can be unhealthy.

Allow me to lighten my spirit by remembering back to Monday and my acupuncture appointment. Breath in. Breath out. I already feel better. For the last few months on an irregular schedule, I’ve visited Oriental Healing Arts. I mentioned them in that previous post, so I won’t go into greater detail here. Monday’s visit though acted as a counterpoint. Explicitly their attitude is that my body is healing itself and they are there to help. The way to help that, especially for people dealing with stress like myself, is to have a pleasant environment where the patients and treatments are handled in a relaxed fashion. She focused on what I was doing right, and reinforced that. And then, as necessary she suggested a change or two in diet, exercise, and attitude. Her suggestions were casual and friendly. She suggested that I cut out refined sugar. I pointed out that I rarely eat it, but M&Ms were on sale. She laughed.

She laughed. I repeat that because instead of admonishment she saw the humor. Instead of making me feel like I was doing lots of wrong things, she pointed out the right things I was doing, while treating me like an adult who knew that M&Ms were health food.

It doesn’t have to be western versus oriental; yet, that seems to be the distinguishing characteristic difference. Western medicine focuses on what’s wrong with the body, what mistakes the patient is making, and how the doctor is going to fix it. Most alternative or non-Western practitioners seem to concentrate on what’s right, and how to help the body and the person bring it back into balance.

Some things are mechanical: broken bones that need to be reset, cavities that need to be filled, cuts that must be bandaged. But maybe that philosophy has its limits. Maybe it isn’t always the external and the immediate that must be considered. Maybe the body’s own capabilities, the soul’s needs, and financial realities must be considered too, because to concentrate on only one might do harm to the others.

Oh yeah, and another feature of the non-Western treatments I’ve received appeals to the frugal part of me. They tend to be less expensive, more accommodating, and require less paperwork. Save me time and money while helping me get better? That takes me farther from harm.

(And thanks to all of the other non-western health care providers who are working me. I’m feeling better, thank you. Though I have a headache from staring at the screen by writing this rather long post. Time for a good walk outside.)

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Lottery Ticket Stocks

Do you play the lottery? Spend a dollar on a ticket and buy hope and the chance to win much more. Millionaires have been made that way. Most millionaires got there through inheritance, hard work, or investing. Lottery tickets aren’t investments. They are wild speculation. We play because wild speculation has worked for others and may work for us. Many stocks are investments, but many are also speculations, and some are wild speculations; but, either by chance, plan, or hope I’ve found myself a shareholder in more than a few. Especially when the price is down around a dollar, I consider them my lottery ticket stocks.

When I invest I try to use my advantages against the weaknesses of the massive financial institutions. They steer clear of companies that are too small (worth less than a billion dollars), too remote (interesting how researchers in New York, New York, overlook the left coast), or too difficult to understand (technology can be intimidating to someone with a finance background). I get into the details of my investing style a bit more in my book (Dream. Invest. Live.), but there’s a need for another level of detail, which is what inspired this blog. Today’s post is about one of those companies (Microvision), one of those stocks (MVIS), one of my advantages: the ability and willingness to attend stockholders meetings by investing in local companies, and a balance of hope and caution.

Microvision is a story company. If they succeed they’ll change the world. Their innovative display technology allows a cell phone to project screen images across entire walls – if the room is dark enough. Just like with a flashlight, they project a cone of light that eventually noticeably dims with distance or ambient light. Because they use lasers the image is always in focus, which means the device can be shown on any surface (handy in a mobile device) and can be moved around (handy in game controllers). Computers and televisions are obvious markets (I already use mine, a ShowWX, to watch DVDs), but if cheap enough they can also change dashboards, cameras, cell phones, game controllers, etc. There is great potential. Check out their web site for more, but the stock discussion boards reach farther into amazing product possibilities and potential profits. Go there and you’ll also read about the chance that they might run out of money, lose to larger or more innovative competitors, or encounter some fatal technological flaw.

That’s been the story for over a decade. A friend asked me if they were a one or a ten, on a scale of ten. I said yes. They’re like a quantum company, both possibilities existing simultaneously waiting to collapse to one reality with no distinction in the present.

Welcome to the 2011 Microvision Annual Meeting of Stockholders, which should have the acronym AMS, but everyone seems to use ASM. They’re a local company and I’ve attended almost every meeting since I bought the stock in 2000. One of my traditions is to attend, take notes, and post them on various discussion boards. Head over to The Motley Fool, Investor Village, and Silicon Investor if you want to read my notes. I think a greater value is being able to read the notes from other attendees, as well as the questions from those who couldn’t attend.

Since I bought the stock it’s gone from $35, up to $65, and eventually down to where it closed on Friday, $1.13, slightly more than the price of a lottery ticket. Estimates of MVIS’s value range from $0 to above $100. The most optimistic guesstimates range into the hundreds of dollars.

MVIS is not the only stock with such high and low potential. They are seductive stocks. For the price of a pair of shoes you can buy 100 shares of stock, depending on your taste in shoes. That does not mean it is the best way to invest $100. But $1 spent on a lottery ticket is money well spent if you win the jackpot. And it shouldn’t be mistaken for investing. It is speculating, spending money on hope. You can only lose $1, which is fine if you only spend $1, but if you spend $1 ten thousand times you can lose $10,000. Of course, if a $1 stock becomes worth $100, then 10,000 shares becomes a million dollars. Nice return, but only if you can afford to lose that $10,000.

A few years ago some friends heard about some of my lottery stocks. The others were seen to be much more expensive, as high as $4. MVIS looked cheaper and many bought shares. One of those “expensive” stocks was DNDN, which went from a low of $2.60 (while MVIS was < $1) to a high of about $55, and with estimates in the hundreds (Is Dendreon a $360 stock, Or Is That Too Low?). I think we own over 100,000 shares of MVIS. If we’d bought 50,000 shares of DNDN at $2.40 for $120,000 (and, no, we don’t coordinate any of this) a twenty-fold increase would result in $2,400,000.

It is easy to be seduced by the potential of such stocks. Little companies do take over their world on occasion, but most do not. Most fade away or are absorbed via mergers and acquisitions.

I own this lottery ticket because I thought they’d have a product and a profit within a few years. In 2000 The Seattle Times ran an article suggesting that Microvision might be profitable in 2003 or 2004. I bought in at about $36. Every year the estimate has been profitability in 2-3 years. The topic wasn’t even raised this year. Too many investors, some with more tenure than me, have become inured to postponed hopes. Many have sold and left, and may be waiting for quantifiable, credible news. One group even has formed a private discussion board that is more support group than stock analysis, yet it continues to have members because of the possibility of incredible success.

Those 100,000 shares of MVIS may someday be worth $10,000,000.  It is easier to become emotionally engaged with that possibility rather than the possibility that those 100,000 shares will be worth nearly nothing except a good story. Rationally everyone seems to understand the downside, but emotions aren’t required to listen to reason.

I tell this cautionary tale because I’ve lived it many times. Look in my book for the data. Sometimes the investment has succeeded. Many more times it has not. The successes are fewer but exceed the losses because the losses can’t exceed -100%. The gains can be much higher.

If you haven’t figured out by now, allow me to emphasize the point that I am more tolerant of risk than many others. I am also passionate about some of the potentials. Dramatically reduce the need to build, package, ship, and make room for 100 inch monitors? Great! Dendreon can retrain a body’s immune system to fight cancer with limited side effects? Wonderful! American Superconductor can do for power what fiber optics did for data? Marvelous! But I’d probably buy into them if they were $100 stocks in companies that had 1/100th as many shares.

But I’ll also admit to buying lottery tickets. They’re only $1. What do I have to lose?

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2011 My Space Remorse

A popular photograph was released by NASA this week: the space shuttle docked with the space station. They’ve both been around for years, but it wasn’t until this week that they both were captured in one close-up. Two American space accomplishments, aided by international partners. And the end of an era. The shuttle program is effectively over. There is no new shuttle or station in NASA production. To me, one of the ultimate ironies is that the photo was taken by an Italian astronaut while aboard a Russian space capsule. Nice photo. Sad moment.

Do you remember the book and the movie, 2001: A Space Odyssey? An icon of science fiction, it looked ahead from the mid-sixties prior to the landing on the moon, to where we might be three decades later. If you haven’t seen it or read it, try it, but don’t be surprised if you’re left a bit confused. At the time it pushed the limits of the implications of space travel and contact with an extra-terrestrial civilization. The special effects were revolutionary, and may seem simple, but keep in mind that very few computers were involved. The hardest part to believe may be that we thought we could go that far by 2001. We could have. We decided not to.

I was born in 1959, early in the Space Race, right after Sputnik scared America into catching up to the Soviets. Soon, President Kennedy challenged America to land on the moon, and we did. There was a call for mathematicians, engineers, and scientists for our collective and epic struggle. We made it to the moon and the call for technical types didn’t cease. I was good in math and science, and eventually got a bachelors and then a masters in aerospace (and ocean) engineering. (Check my bio for details.) The space shuttle had finally flown and even a newbie engineer could tell that we’d eventually need something better, and something designed more to commercial rather than military specifications. I interviewed as much as anyone but I only chased two job offers: Boeing Commercial Airplanes, and NASA. The NASA offer was sweet, and eventually turned into the group that designed the space station. The Boeing offer wasn’t as good, but they knew commercial better than NASA, and I wanted to seriously work on Commercial Space for the rest of my career. (And of course the career would last until I was 65, right?) I accepted the job to work on the 747, what I thought would be a good training ground for understanding large, complex, and reliable vehicles that paid for themselves. Next step, line myself up for the inevitable space shuttle replacement design group. Besides, I didn’t mind rain and thought I might like hiking and sailing and such.

My career only lasted 18 years (the story of my early retirement is in my book that is the basis for this blog), and it did pass through several years spent in the small Commercial Space division. I worked on rockets, shuttles, and satellites. I also learned a sad lesson. I was in a small design group when a new manager “corrected” our perception of our jobs. We were enthusiastically working on a long-overdue shuttle replacement. He pointed out that the company had greater incentives to design than to build. Subsequent designs for possible replacements were done under contract. Contracts made money, and they could always go back and get yet another design contract. Building the vehicle could make money, but design studies don’t crash; while an accident with something as risky as a new rocket could negatively impact the company’s finances, public image, especially if anyone was killed. I don’t remember his name. I don’t know if he was expressing a personal opinion or official corporate strategy. For all I know he was shuttled off for his comments. But his logic could explain why the majority of innovation and construction in space vehicles has taken so long and is happening outside the major corporate and governmental bureaucracies.

Scaled Composites, SpaceX, and Blue Origin are some of the commercial ventures designing, building, and flying new and innovative space vehicles. For them, success is directly tied to operating real vehicles. They are all small companies with engineers that are expected to get their hands dirty, or so I hear. They’ve all flown prototypes and have commercial customers. They are all, as I understand it, funded by IT wealth: respectively, Paul Allen, Elon Musk, and Jeff Bezos. Commercial companies with much less budget, much smaller design and build groups, are rapidly replacing NASA’s capabilities. It is a mark of their success. I applaud them and their community of competitors. The comparison is also a sign of the inefficiencies of old, massive, entrenched organizations that survive on misplaced incentives.

My space remorse is personal. Years of college, years at work, and the realization that I was in the right place at the right time with the right skills, but that wrong set of something as abstract as corporate incentives could be the cause of so much waste.

My space remorse is also for America. I wasn’t the only engineer in that situation. I’ve known dozens and probably hundreds of fellow engineers whose expertise could have made a difference for our country and our planet. Following Kennedy’s dream and level of vision from the mid-sixties through to 2001 could have surpassed the movie’s technical accomplishments. We didn’t realize how quickly technology would change. Better access to space resources could have meant less use of earth-bound materials. Better self-sustainable systems, which are required in space, could have brought earth-bound sustainability sooner. Space allows industries and power supplies that aren’t economically feasible with current, which is also 1970, technology. I suspect commercial work in space would have uncovered discoveries as unexpected as what society found as we delved into the Information Age. At the time, there was no obvious path from an IBM PC to streaming Netflix on a cell phone.

Space isn’t the only place with stymied innovations. Think of other overly-bureaucractic institutions like health care and education. How many doctors, nurses, and teachers have fought for change within their systems, staring at needs, while unable to replace archaic or counter-productive incentive systems?

Space has finally found its innovators. Money, passion, and incentives were the key. Maybe the same can happen with health care and education. I’m an engineer. I don’t know as much about those areas. But I’ve witnessed massive waste of human potential and wondered how much better we all would be if that potential had been utilized.

I watch for trends and space was a trend that I invested in early with massive amounts of my time. Part of my remorse is from having guessed wrong, from having guessed that we wouldn’t allow ourselves to stagnate. Thirty years after I graduated, it looks like I might finally be right. It may be a bit late for my career (but call me, operators are standing by), but there is great opportunity for the newer generation. Maybe the same will soon be true throughout other aspects of our civilization.

In the meantime, America is counting on its entrepreneurs and those entrepreneurs are in a race with the governments of China and India. Those governments’ space bureaucracies aren’t old enough to be entrenched anachronisms. They’re still reaching for their Apollo Program. I’ve had enough remorse. It’s time to find something to celebrate.

PS I also have a first edition of 2001: A Space Odyssey for sale. Details available upon request.

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Tell Me More Addendum

The late night inspired addendum to Tell Me More:

If what you had to say resonated with 100 people, would you say it? Picture them sitting in front of you arrayed in ten rows of ten seats. That’s a nice audience. You’d have to rent a space to seat them. Good.

Would you still say it if it was only 40 people? Forty people knocking on your door to hear what you have to say. That’s a busy doorbell. You’d be busy opening that door and they’d make an impression by the end of your day.

Only ten that show up to hear your opinion or insight? That’s about the right size for a fascinating dinner party. You’d have a warm hearth and know that other conversations were inspired by yours.

How about if it was only one person, but that person’s life was changed, even only slightly but positively by what you had to share? That should be worth your effort. You be encouraged to speak or write again.

There’s a bible story that works from the same logic though to great consequence, but even at the personal level the logic suggests “Tell Me Your Story. Tell Me More”.

And listen to theirs.

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Tell Me More

Ideas and stories are insubstantial, numerous, and we only hear a few. No wonder my passions are people and ideas. Occasionally I’ll launch into monologue when I find a receptive audience. Maybe that’s why I enjoy teaching and speaking, and good friends. For me though, listening is like hiking to the top of a mountain ridge. I wonder if the next ridge, the next story, will give me yet another new view of the world to piece in with the others I’ve already collected. Unfortunately, there are more stories, ideas, answers, insights than can possibly be delivered, heard, or absorbed. Treasures wait to be found.

Hiking to views in Washington’s Cascades is a not a sure thing. Most days are cloudy, and the views are obscured. A sunny day at the trailhead can turn at a ridge clouded by the morning’s evaporating snowpack. Sweet lakes can spend afternoons under very local mini-thunderheads. Each of the hundreds of lakes is unique, but they begin to look alike in a fog or from inside a rain-drenched tent. So, why go hiking? Because of the nice days of course.

I was hesitant to write my first book or two. Others had undertaken similar adventures with greater drama, accomplishment, and incentives. Yes, I rode my bicycle across the United States, but so did hundreds every year. I heard their stories as I rode across their routes. The locals passed along the tales; especially, if the tales involved greater challenges. I rode from north of Seattle (Roche Harbor) to south of Miami (Key West). The stories I heard about though were of the family of five. Dad on his bike with the five year old on a pedal powered psuedo-tandem. Mom cycling along pulling the three-year old in a trailier. And the eight year old proudly independent. The other story was about Lars Clausen, the man who unicycled through every state. Their accomplishments didn’t diminish mine. Their stories added different perspectives.

One story was told to the world. Lars wrote One Wheel. Many States. A book is a way to launch words beyond the community of friends and acquaintances. I don’t think the family wrote theirs, but they undoubtedly could teach others about shared joys and coping methods.

I wrote three books about year-round travel in the Cascades, not because I was an expert mountain man, but because I was surprised that none of them had written that story. The Seattle area has an active community of hikers, skiers, alpinists, climbers, and uber-adventurers. The area is also populated by best-selling authors and storytellers. Yet, none of them had taken on the duel challenge of visiting a bit of wilderness throughout the year and writing about their insights. I thought someone should, so I did, even though I wasn’t the most accomplished at either skill.

People who are awake and alive have stories to tell. Writers and other artists get to tell stories. One of my frustrations is to see and hear stories, or maybe only their hints, and to know that its message and meaning is trapped by logistics, excessive humility, or fear of disapproval.

Every time I talk about Modern Self-Publishing, I hear each attendee’s story. They’ve taken an enormous step, for some, by showing up. Even amongst them, most hide their tales. One very powerful tool they have is each other. Telling each other their stories and talking about their process amplifies and speeds their efforts. Here’s a bit from one of them:
Kim Tinuviel is an avid travel photographer/blogger. Between trips, her Langley design studio Tinuviel Creative, creates stylish and professional book covers and layouts, websites, photography, business cards and many other services that help writers get their work published!
Not only does she have a story to tell, but she’s also a source of other talents, just like everyone in the room. Unfortunately, only a few pass around their contact info, or announce their progress. Some hold back for personal reasons. Some hold back for competitive reasons. I hid my first Twelve Month project until I was in the eleventh month. I know the feeling.

On a global and on a personal level we have a great need for being heard and for listening. Our environment and society needs solutions, and I suspect that somewhere in a few billion brains exist simple solutions. Ingenuity exists but needs an outlet. All of us have stories to tell, some that impact global issues, but more that merely need to be said and healthily heard. Compassion exists and is greatly enabled by sharing.

For our sake and for my sake, for deeply powerful insights, or merely for entertainment, tell your story. And if you think it’s a bit rough, talk to a friend. There are plenty of people around to help with the polishing.

Now, it’s time to pour a cup of something and go listen to a tale. About an hour ago, as I started typing this, a friend’s sleeve slid up to reveal a tattoo. Evidently, it involves a wizard, Hong Kong, and possible inebriation. You gotta admit that there’s more to the story than that. Hmm, maybe some stories are best kept private.

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Everything Changes

Did the Rapture happen or didn’t it? There are about seven billion people on the planet. Would the planet notice if 144,000 or even 144,000,000 disappeared? Comedians should be paying tributes to Harold Camping for his prediction of the rapture. Their writers appreciate the source material. Despite that prediction’s apparent failure, there are many other ways the world could dramatically change resulting in lots of five year and retirement plans becoming suddenly obsolete. Some scenarios are heavens. Some are hells. Planning for them may not make more sense than the plans made by Camping’s followers. But I continue to find the speculations fascinating because the range of disruption puts normal plans into perspective.

Doomsday
I’m going to skip these scenarios because, being human, we are better at imagining hell than we are at imagining heaven. Long time readers know my favorite example: Dante’s Inferno. Really it is a trilogy, but as he steps from hell to heaven the language and imagery gets duller. Just for a quick example though, one bad asteroid could ruin our day forever. (Pity we don’t have a better space program, but that’s another post.)

Digital Singularity
I mentioned this one in a previous post (check my tag cloud for the links). Technology in genetics, information, and robotics is changing rapidly. If any of it develops consciousness and can develop an improved successor, technological evolution could rapidly run past human capacity to control or understand it. The heaven scenarios include cures for all bodily, societal, and environmental ills. The hellish scenarios are popular enough to inspire movies like The Matrix and Terminator. Either case makes the choice between stocks and bonds very moot when there’s no more need or use for money.

Scientific Breakthroughs
Our world has radically changed in the past through our own advancements. Digital Singularity is an extreme example, but equally or more likely are discoveries in physics and biology that can change everything. Physicists are exploring dark energy and dark matter. Maybe we can tap the all-pervasive dark energy and suddenly stop burning fossils. Biological understanding may reveal magic pills or procedures (which in retrospect were probably obvious to some shaman) that can cheaply heal our ills. Heaven and hell in concert, in that our lives are better, but our economies are trashed. Retirement plans may have to accommodate very long lives, but did life just get much cheaper or much more expensive?

Extraterrestrials
I don’t expect aliens in massive starships descending from the skies. The physics can work, but the movie versions use far too many resources and very inefficient ships. Contact is more likely to come through information, which is why SETI listens to the universe. Information is cheaper and easier to send than people, ships, and probes. Contact is such an appropriate word that Carl Sagan used it as the title of his book, which also became a movie. That was more of a heaven scenario, where we are welcomed into a galactic or universal community where answers are freely available, eventually. The truly hellish scenarios don’t make it into the movies because the invasions would be more subtle: nano-infiltrations, social engineering, effects that seem more like magic than technology. But in an infinite universe anything can and probably will happen somewhere, so we could see something like Independence Day, but with smarter aliens. In that case, which financial institution owns the title to my thirty year mortgage is not a big issue.

Cosmic Consciousness
This one is my favorite. Science has a tough time understanding consciousness. Regardless of technological achievements, maybe some spiritual types will find a simple way, or maybe simple evolution, will lead us to communal consciousness. Rupert Sheldrake‘s work points to the possibility, in my interpretation. Compassion and love of all becomes the norm, because someone thought or felt in a new way. If love cures all ills, then this sounds like a heaven. Worries about the future are no longer solitary cells. An extension of this then reaches out beyond the planet. Maybe that’s the entrance requirement for joining the cosmic party.

So, what am I planning for? I try to spend frugally while investing in today’s society via stocks; and by investing in my skills by creating and selling my books and photos, and by teaching. I’m a few years into a fixed-rate thirty year mortgage. I try to live a healthy life and generally want to live long and prosper. Everything can change, but usually, for the most part, it stays the same. I’d hate to find that I’d planned for aliens inducing an involuntary cosmic consciousness via dark energy delivered by asteroid at the end of the Mayan calendar only to find out that contact is planned for the end of the next Mayan cycle. That would be so embarrassing.

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PSCZ

No, PSCZ is not a stock. Wait a minute while I check, maybe it is. It’s not a stock. (But PSCZX is a $2B mutual fund.) Around my neighborhood, PSCZ stand for the Puget Sound Convergence Zone. Cliff Mass’ excellent blog describes it better, but I simply consider it a movable micro-climate that draws a band of rain across slices of Puget Sound country. Some places get it more than others. My house seems to get hit a lot. Position makes a difference. Ask most aware Americans of how importance place can be.

My house lives due east of the Olympic Mountains, Washington State’s coastal range. It’s a distinctive range for around here because it isn’t trying to blow up. There aren’t any volcanoes along it. Instead, there are tremendous pressures building beneath it, which, on geological terms, regularly lead to massive subduction quakes and tsunamis. In California the tectonic plates grind past each other. Here, like in Indonesia and Japan, the oceanic plate slides beneath the continental plate, scrunching land at the boundary that someday pops to relieve the pressure. As the plate descends it melts, and if it finds weaknesses then rises back through the crust to form volcanoes. Welcome to Washington’s Cascades.

Let me rephrase that. The mountains to my west are building to an earthquake and a tsunami. A few miles beneath my house, ocean floor is melting into magma. The mountains east of my house are dotted with steaming volcanoes.

Yet what I want to write about is the weather.

Massive forces may surround us, but we are more likely to respond to daily events. Pacific storms hit the Olympics, split, and converge again over Puget Sound. When a split storm reconnects it tends to storm again. Welcome to Seattle and the area’s grey and rainy reputation. The weather is far more noticeable, and is one of the reasons why it is hard to even see the volcanoes. Clouds are more common.

America has a privileged geographical position. It was never easy to get here. Otherwise the first settlers would have come in crowds. Now it looks like it was only 70 people at the start. Geography gave them elbowroom and a lack of visitors for thousands of years. Sounds like the benefits of taking a risk and investing in a good idea early. Even after the European migration, America’s massive moats meant less royal and archaic influence (unless you happened to be a descendant of one of the firsts). A new culture sprung up because it was distant enough to grow untended. Cultural evolution occurred, followed by political revolution. It’s possible that global respect for personal liberties couldn’t have happened any other way.

Then, becoming an American meant commitment to this new place. Now, most Americans are born to that privilege. I’m glad for it. My life has been longer and easier (despite my griping) here than almost any other birthplace could’ve enabled. Proud to be an American? Yep. But in my case I recognize it as luck. (By the way, I am impressed with legal immigrants. Thanks for joining the party.)

Luck is powerful, and like a resource, respect for it can be powerful.

America is in a powerful position, but I no longer think we are the world leader because the world is no longer engaged in a singular struggle as in World War One, World War Two, and the Cold War. I think we all have a common interest in growing into a sustainable and thriving global culture, but people demonstrating in Northern Africa or the Middle East have more immediate fights. Others are fighting to live amidst terrorists. Others are fighting poverty, drought, flood, and many other historical ills.

Around me I see many more individual struggles. I also see proper respect for position and place, either attained through luck or effort.

I know many people who describe themselves by their job. “All I can do is (fill in the blank).” They see all of these other impressive individuals and are humbled. Except for the self-centered ones, the rest are given the joy of seeing everyone else’s talents and skills. Sometimes it is easier to be in awe of someone else’s accomplishments and efforts. (It’s why I enjoy art fairs. So much talent and diversity is heartening.)

I think this happens no matter the vocation or avocation, but the arts are an easy example. The sculptor may be impressed by the results of the painter who is impressed by the writer who is impressed by the musician who is impressed by the sculptor. “But all I can do is play an instrument.” Yep. Well, they probably have more talents than that, but I think the artists that do best step confidently or at least courageously into the role of showing the world what they can do. Hopefully the world appreciates and compensates. (Classic artist mistake = pricing their art too low because, “All I do is . . .” Respect yourself.)

These personal battles and personal abilities are foundations from which we can build toward the longer term and more global goals.

Do I live in a wet land? Yep, though it’s dry today. Things grow well here. Grey days are great for getting things done. Sailors love the winds. Skiers love the snowpack. West of here is rain forest. East of here is nearly rain forest. Go a bit farther and find high and cold. A bit farther east and find more arid. (I love the diversity. That’s why I wrote the books.) Do folks in eastern Washington live in a dry land? Yep. Something else grows well there. Every place, person and time has it’s power and potential. Imagine how much we can get done given all of that.

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A Million Thoughts

Money is on my mind. That’s probably because it’s the end of the month and I’m not a millionaire. Actually, when I was a millionaire, money was on my mind at the end of the month, but the thoughts were significantly different. There was a bit of anxiety in both situations, but one is understandably more pronounced. In both cases though, the anxieties came from unknowns. Will there ever be enough? Will it all suddenly disappear? What if? What if?

Around the time of the Internet bubble and again a few years later, while married, I spent some time as one half of a millionaire household. It wasn’t a dynamic achievement. It wasn’t the result of singular luck. As I describe in my book, Dream. Invest. Live. (now available on kindle!), our net worth accomplishment was the result of good jobs, a comfortable and frugal lifestyle, and a diversified stock portfolio. Want more details? Read the book. The main story though is that a lot of tired advice is unfashionable but correct. Spend less than you make. Invest the rest. Go ask someone who lived through the Great Depression.

We didn’t have a million dollar bills sitting in a vault. Most millionaires get there by adding up various pots of money and other assets: stocks, businesses, real estate, etc. They add up to over a million on paper, but it can be hard to believe they are real. There are too many ways that each can vanish. Each valuation is a guess, and their sum is a sum of guesses. Each could be worth more, and maybe eventually worth much more, but each can also lose value and they could lose their value together. We’ve just witnessed the Dismal Decade when bubbles popped in the stock and real estate markets and when businesses were worth less because the economy wasn’t healthy.

Staring at a seven digit TOTAL on a spreadsheet is not the same as being ready to pay bills from a stuffed checking account. The bills drain from a smaller reservoir and their impact is therefore larger. Despite that, the optimist also can look at the potential growth in the other assets. As long as the assets’ worth grows faster than the expenses, the total increases. Nice – if you can count on it. An awareness of wealth brings an awareness of economic frailty. When you’ve got it, you realize you can lose it.

Regardless of wealth, life has other circumstances, situations and consequences. Divorces happen, and no, the details of that story aren’t in the book, but it wasn’t soap opera material or dramatic events. In my case amidst national economic turmoil, enough for two divided by two, was not enough for one. Stock market bubbles pop. Real estate fluctuates. Specialized careers, like commercial aerospace engineering, aren’t worth much outside the corporate cubicles. Anxiety ensued. Optimism did too.

Median household annual income in America is about $31,000. Should I get such a job? I consider that question, especially during the numerous downturn months we’ve recently experienced. Obviously, many maintain households on that amount, and that amount would greatly ease my situation, especially because I have a moderate stock portfolio and a reasonable house and mortgage. At the same time though, that moderate stock portfolio has managed much larger swings within minutes as stellar news has hit individual stocks. One or two such good days per year, with the rest averaging to zero, and I’d be better without the stress and cost of time spent at a job. I’m an investor. I’m an optimist. Of course I think I can have more than enough such good days every year.

Nothing is certain, neither jobs nor stocks. My stocks and my real estate currently total to a much smaller number than they did when I bought this house. As long as they last, jobs bring paychecks and benefits for the cost of time. Jobs can also be major sources of stress or satisfaction, depending on the job.

I invest in companies that I believe will succeed. Most of the companies represented in my stock portfolio are doing well. One or two (hello MVIS) don’t appear to be doing well, but have enormous potential. Two companies, American Superconductor and Dendreon, are progressing as I expected, but their stocks, AMSC and DNDN, are worth much less than I think is reasonable. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe the market is wrong.

If I am significantly wrong, then sometime in the next few years I’ll have to get a job, as long as I don’t mind draining my IRA later this year. If I am right, even without extra optimism, then my worries will look silly in retrospect and my time will be better spent the way I am spending it now: as an artist, entrepreneur, volunteer, social innovator, relaxed human being living long and prosperously. Some of the most optimistic scenarios put me back into that seven digit realm, though its return would be tempered by experience.

My answer has been to follow my intuition. It’s a path that is not obvious, but that has led me to community and insights unavailable elsewhere. This path has produced art via my books and photos. I’ve enjoyed public speaking and teaching. (Don’t forget tonight’s class.) Entrepreneurship and social innovation are fascinating open-ended avenues to travel. All of these trails lead to various satisfactions. Any of these trails could lead to income (those books and photos are on sale now!), which wraps back into thoughts about jobs and careers.

Investor, employee, or bohemian; which should I be? I suspect that eventually it will look like I am all three.

So here I sit, waiting for money from a recent stock trade within a dwindling portfolio. After the money shows up in my checking account, I’ll pay a pallet of bills. If you thought I lived this life without worry or concern, you obviously weren’t thinking about this as much as me.

By the way, as I typed this, DNDN is up about a dollar. Multiply by a few thousand shares and many bills could be paid from one day’s action. Ah, but what about tomorrow?

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Crowded Art Markets

Aargh! We’re  crowded. As of a few months ago I spend most Saturdays sitting and selling my art. Paul Petersen has extra space in his metal and glass studio; so, he’s has opened the doors to local artists in a weekly Saturday mini-art fair. Thinking of those humongous events with hundreds or thousands of artists jammed booth by stall? Ha. This is an island thing. Six of us are enough to pack the space. And we aren’t alone. Art is catching on in painting, sketching, performing, writing, and even in the corporate realm. Is there already too much or can we ever have too much?

Once upon a time in a galaxy identical to our own I lived in a different world: my 18 years as an aerospace engineer at Boeing. I worked on rockets and satellites long enough to grab the badge of rocket scientist, but really those few years made me much more impressed with those who’d legitimately held the title for decades. I miss the work, the people, and the paychecks. Maybe the corporate culture has changed by now. Maybe I’d travel back into the aerospace world for the right project. In the meantime, the world I inhabit more frequently is that of art and artists, a world not so completely alien – except for the finances.

My artwork stretches back to the mid-seventies, but I didn’t realize that until I wrote my first book, Just Keep Pedaling in 2002. That book led to more books, which led to photography, and now both have led to my stint educating people about modern self-publishing. Looking back I started my art career journalling and photographing for fun as a teenager, and both quickly worked their way into the high school newspaper. I can’t recall any direct influence from my art classes. It all just seemed to happen.

That was the seventies in a suburb of Pittsburgh over by a couple of mills. It was not an art-conducive environment, yet in retrospect art was there.

Today’s world is much different. In the last ten years, writing has broken out because of blogging and print-on-demand publishing. Photography has been transformed by digital cameras and sophisticated software. Performance arts are captured on small and simple equipment then easily loaded onto YouTube. Sketching and fabric arts are group events.

Locally, this venue and a few others (“downtown” Clinton, Bayview, Langley, Freeland – so I’ve heard) have opened or resurrected to accommodate artists. Supply is up. The traditional and stereotypical artists continue, those dedicated and experienced people who excel at one or two arts. I think the majority of the increase is from those embarking on second careers and those tackling it as a second, or third, or fourth job. Some are driven by passion. Some are driven by financial need. For some, it just happens.

Art is happening more consciously too. As friend Smolinsky put it in his corporate consultation blog, “And art, what does art bring?”.
He answers his own question by listing the influence and benefits within corporate culture.
“Art brings eloquence in communication.” Think Powerpoint that actually works.
“Art brings innovation.” “Managers who are skilled innovators learn to lead not force.”
“Art brings willingness to take risk.” “Knowing how to assess risk and use it wisely leads to managers who rally their people forward into new heights of success.”

Sounds like the consequences of art are in demand.

Supply and demand may be in the midst of a new relationship within the art world.

In the last decade print-on-demand publishing has grown from only printing one-fifth as many books as the traditional industry to now producing more. E-books from kindle and Nook are now rising to exceed both. Martha Stewart and the craft store Michaels are entry drugs addicting people to the realization that they have always been creative. Suppliers to the professionals, like Daniel Smith, benefit as novices transition from hobbyist to crafter to artist.

Demand for artistic expression is up, but demand for art is less certain. There are more books. There are more writers. There are fewer readers. Photography has become easier and maybe some are happier hanging their own photos, instead of, for instance, buying mine. Do-It-Yourself is usually Consumed-and-Appreciated-by-Yourself. Now I realize that the prices for most art doesn’t do much to compensate for the artist’s time and trials.

Technology is blamed for ills. Art frequently has been trivialized and dismissed as useless. Yet we live in an era and a world where technology is helping people recognize the artist within, and society is recognizing the benefits of artistic expression, and also artistic perspective.

Is it getting crowded because there are too many artists? Of course. Those of us here today (Paul, Susan, Kim, Judy, Anne and me) spent the first hour or two shuffling around display panels, and helping each other with hanging hardware as we settled into our spaces trying to make it all fit. As a trend, it looks like society is doing something similar, creating a crowd of artists, maybe on purpose, maybe it’s just happening.

As for a crowd of buyers, well, I guess that’s what I’m sitting here for. Luckily, sitting amongst art with artists is quite comfortable. A little crowding can be a good thing.

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Overlooked Upstart Seedlings

Big things start small. Acorns to oaks, snowflakes to avalanches, ideas to revolutions. Big things are in the news, whether we are interested or not; but, because they are big, editors and reporters talk about them. Big things touch many people, so the news touches more lives. I look elsewhere because usually by the time something is recognized as big, Its effects are nearing their end. It is not new and therefore not news. I enjoy watching for the disruptive notions, ingenious solutions, comically simple insights. That’s where the new news lives.

Every major philosophy and institution began as an idea in one person’s head. Occasionally there is simultaneity, just ask Rupert Sheldrake about his research into morphic resonances (at least as I understand it.) An idea living in only one head has a fragile home. We humans aren’t invulnerable, yet. Somewhere between a solitary address and world-wide reach, an idea is planted in hopefully fertile ground. One of the nice things about most ideas is that the same seed can be planted many times.

That’s not true in the world of business. Intellectual property rights, patents and inventions particularly, reside within one company at a time for the first twenty years. That seems like a long time, but in high tech and biotech, two decades may be needed to develop the supporting technologies, prove safety and efficacy, and clear the regulatory hurdles. It’s a risky business, and small businesses can only accommodate a few risks. Many ideas are shelved or forgotten. Some are sold and licensed if they are valuable enough but not core to the company’s strategy.

Set the way-back machine to 1999. I learned about a company that had the potential to revolutionize the way we viewed almost every electronic display. If Microvision‘s (MVIS) idea worked, images would be projected onto our retinas. To some the idea was silly, but most new ideas look that way. We’ve taken for granted the fact that our devices have to store an image, shove it onto a tiny bit of glass that commands the device’s acreage and sucks up lots of power but isn’t readily readable in strong light. Our retinas evolved to capture photons. Why not take advantage of that and lightly paint the image where it needed to go? I bought some stock.

Microvision had plenty of such ideas for image display and image capture. They had even more exotic technologies involving electro-optical materials that allowed for high-capacity switches, antennas, and bio-labs on a chip without any moving parts. Unfortunately, the company’s products were perpetually delayed (until recently, but that’s another story). Ideas were shelved as technology hit roadblocks. Maybe management guessed wrong or was too optimistic. They decided to concentrate on displays. Spinning off the electro-optical group into Lumera, a separate company, made them some money and removed a distraction without abandoning the idea.

Lumera looked good. Its technology was harder to understand, but could be just as disruptive. Instead of replacing a large fraction of the world’s displays, Lumera could dramatically enter the industrial electronics market only seen by uber-geeks. They aimed at the high-end of the high-tech industry with devices that were smaller, less likely to break down, probably cheaper and therefore probably had a higher profit margin. Maybe it was technology’s hurdles. Maybe it was management again, but the company never made enough money to survive independently.

GigOptix (GGOX.OB) stepped in. They were a tiny company with less advanced products, but they could make money from their existing products, had money, and used it to merge with Lumera. It was more like a buyout though. The name changed. The headquarters moved. The Lumera people began to disperse. Most of the Lumera product development pipeline was cancelled – except for the electro-optical switches. Every place a fiber optic cable ties into an electrical cable there’s a good chance that there’s an electro-optical switch. It’s a big market that few of us ever see but it makes downloading movies possible. They were a less passionate company but more business-like. Maybe they’d succeed. I bought some stock.

Microvision, the company that’s been working on their products for over a decade recently announced first quarter earnings of $1,100,000; less than the value of some houses in my neighborhood. GigOptix’s first quarter earnings were $7,700,000; seven times higher. Despite seven times the revenue, GigOptix’s market cap, the company’s value on the stock market, is one-fourth that of Microvision. Either GGOX.OB is very cheap, MVIS is too expensive, or something else is going on. Maybe it’s that management thing again. Maybe it’s because small companies are easily overlooked.

I think the potential is that they are both undervalued because of the fear in the market. The market is hunting for stability and safety. If it can’t trust banks, why would investors trust little companies even if they have big ideas?

Any time there is a mismatch between price and value there is an opportunity for investors. I don’t know Microvision’s or GigOptix’s futures. Microvision has issues with green lasers, cash, and credibility. GigOptix may be onto something very good, but I’ve had a harder time getting to know the non-local management. In the meantime, I have enough shares in both to become comfortable, but wish the stocks appreciated soon. I’ve got bills to pay.

Disruptive ideas don’t simply exist within business. How many protests and revolutions have begun because someone posted an idea on a church door or Twitter? I use my interest in innovation for my investing, but I also use it to track the health of my larger investment – my love for this life and this planet. There are lots of ideas out there that are the size of acorns and snowflakes which are easy to miss because more attention is paid to corporate and governmental behemoths. I suspect though, that eventually, the solutions to our big problems will come from small ideas – those upstart seedlings that are currently easy to overlook.

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