One Stop Shop Town

Posted on May 14, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

Big city life means lots of boutiques that only sell one thing in the middle of town and mega-stores on the outskirts that claim the convenience of one-stop shopping. I don’t live there anymore. Last night a favorite local island band, the Rural Characters, played a silly song called, Shopping in Clinton. Clinton, a town smaller than some mega-stores. A town that embodies the notion that if the stores don’t have it you don’t need it. Their less means a lot more.

The Rural Characters are four guys that pack the house whenever they play, and they only play when they want to. Play is the right word. They aren’t a band that’s trying to get rich. They’re just trying to have fun making music. Luckily they play in public. During last night’s gig (which was out of town – in Langley) that benefited other artists they asked for suggestions that described their genre – as long as the genre name included the word compost. Send those ideas to PO Box  . . . – nah, I won’t publicize it and unleash a world’s worth of snail mail. They didn’t have to give the rest of the address because we all knew it. I’ve already sent in my suggestion: My Folk’s Rocky Country Compost w/ Rhythm and Blues. I think that covers most, but not all, of what they play.

A few years back I asked a couple of them about their CDs or DVDs. They didn’t have any. They weren’t going to make any. Their level of expertise warrants it, but music for money takes more effort and stress, and music as an occupation is even more effort and stress with no guarantee of success. They have fun. We have fun. Why do anything different?

Everyone has talents and skills. The lucky ones have talents and skills that are useful for their era. Warren Buffett has made the claim that he isn’t necessarily the smartest man, but he was born with the right nature and nurture for this time. There will also be people who’s upbringing and genetics are either too late or too early. My basket weaving skills come to mind.

I could spend my time weaving baskets. They are decidedly rustic. My baskets take dozens of hours to make. Similar, better, artisan baskets sell for about $120. Divide the money by the hours and don’t forget to subtract out damaged, returned, and stored inventory and something that might be fun can become a source of stress without much recompense.

Much of American life is centered around making money, making the most of everything. Every moment is precious and time is money so don’t waste time because that is wasting money and a vicious and unhealthy cycle is begun.

During last night’s intermission a woman three seats away immediately popped open two cell phones. She balanced the clamshell one in her lap and read from it as she tiny typed on the mini-keyboard of the other. There wasn’t a moment to lose, at 9PM, on a Friday night, in a town that’s notorious for having bad cell signals, while in a theater full of sociable folks. She didn’t look happy or relaxed. Maybe she was in the midst of an emergency. Maybe not.

The band’s song about shopping in Clinton made fun of their and my small town, but they also made a point whether they wanted to or not. Clinton, WA only has a population of a few thousand, and that’s only because the post office boundaries extend far beyond the town’s border. Despite that, Clinton has a smallish supermarket, a packed and cluttered hardware store, coffee shops, at least two restaurants, one bar, two banks, places I’ve never entered, a library and a post office. Oh yeah, and the ferry terminal. This is an island. The ferry terminal is important. Without it, the town would be much smaller. I haven’t measured Clinton, but I suspect most of the shops and stores and their parking lots would fit inside a mainland mall. Here, I can park in one place and walk to everything I need.

Mainland malls are frantic and have become so filled with specialized stores selling un-necessities that they seem like a waste of time. The useful mainland stores have moved out and expanded into the big boxes that separate each other by enough asphalt to require driving from one to the other. They’re big because they have everything, even lots of things you don’t need. One stop shopping only happens if you’re shopping for things that are like each other.

For me, frugality is defined as a respect for resources: time, money, materials. Last night four guys playing with music and helping the audience have fun taught me a lesson. A frugal life, a life that respects me and the planet, is easier on an island. The Rural Characters have known it for much longer. Island life, and rural life, has less. There aren’t many stores. They don’t have as much stuff, and that’s a good thing. There isn’t as much time, money, and materials wasted making, chasing, buying, and sorting through clutter. As an islander I may have to do without a few things, but I also don’t have to wade through gazingas and goo-gaws.

Ironically, I think the same could be said for central urban life. Everything is within walking distance, or accessible via public transit. All of those boutique stores each fit someone’s needs. There may be more gazingas and clutter to filter through, but there’s less time wasted driving from one parking space to another. Committing to an urban life even may allow giving up a car and all of its hassles and expenses. I suspect that a city life is more easily drawn into the chase for money though. Most of the activities require it.

I’ll stick to my island life. It does more than simplify shopping. It simplifies community, conversation, creation. Fewer things and people are measured by money. Money continues to be a necessity, but free is easier to find. Food can be grown in backyards, as long as the deer, bunnies and slugs don’t find it. Entertainments may be as simple as sitting on the deck and watching the whales and eagles cruise by, or involve gatherings of dancers, artists, volunteers and thinkers. Even relaxation, something I’m trying to get better at, is easier, which probably doesn’t come as a surprise.

You are all welcome to come on by to shop and stop for a bit. The shopping may not take long. But be careful, the stopping and enjoying can go on for a long time.

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

Taught Muscles

Posted on May 11, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

We’ve been wrapped up tight. Can you feel it too? Terrorists tightened up our security efforts to ridiculous effect. Centuries of unintended consequences endanger our environment. Food scares make dinner an occasion for debate instead of relaxation. I think it’s time to practice no-tight.

I won’t claim to come up with the term tight/no-tight. It come from an old style of karate that I’ve practiced for over 25 years now. Practice is the right word because that much practice has proved to me how much more I have to learn. Like many aspects of the art, tight/no-tight is a simple yet elusive concept that is powerful enough to be worth the chase.

The iconic images of martial artists are zero-fat sculpted bodies with muscles delineated beneath glistening skin. Very tight looking. That ain’t me. I’m 52 years old. When I practice karate it isn’t very vigorous, dramatic, or even sweaty. My sessions are more like Tai Chi, slow and attempts at understanding the aspects of the art and myself. Surprisingly, those icons like Bruce Lee were actually very good at being loose. They were flexible and their muscles were taught to tightened fully for precise fractions of a second within a technique. My body looks looser, partly because of my American diet padding, yet beneath that can be too much tension. I’ve been so tight at times that my muscles ached and strained from days or weeks or more of stress.

The handy and humbling aspect of decades of training is the personal introspection that makes me laugh at myself. “I was tightened up about that? That’s silly.”

The Dismal Decade tightened many people. Many types of defenses were erected. It is unfortunate human nature that our defenses tend to outlast the threats. We continue to maintain nuclear missiles. I suspect TSA won’t go away soon. How many of us continue in adulthood to counter conflicts experienced in childhood?

This blog was inspired by my book, Dream. Invest. Live., partly because friends commented that my reaction to money was different than theirs. I wasn’t always worried about money. I wasn’t always ignorant of it. Some people worry about every penny, and may think there’s never enough even when they are worth millions. Others never worry about money because they don’t want to, or have so little or so much that it doesn’t matter to them. My attitude isn’t best or worst. It is merely mine. Money is a resource. I’ve witnessed the progression from money buying happiness, from when paying bills is difficult; to when more money doesn’t make a difference because there’s more than enough for necessities, luxuries and philanthropies. Right now money would make happiness easier. I can pay my bills, but it is prudent for me to delay some because the money is coming from my core investments. (A divorce and the recent economic downturn didn’t help the money side of my life.)

Within karate, tight/no-tight is practiced as a way to manage energies, internal resources. A fighter who is always taut tires easily, moves more slowly, and is more likely to damage their own joints and connective tissues. No-tight might work for the master practitioners and is the ultimate because it can also lead to no-conflict, but moments of tightness are useful for when two opponents make contact. Then, taut muscles can protect bones and organs. Karate is about defense. The counter exists though and uses the same principle.

For me, money is something to handle with tight/no-tight. Ultimately I could be completely no-tight and trust to the universe and the divine to provide all of my needs and wants, but I suspect that would require a monastic or saintly life that few can manage. I could also relax with substantially more than enough, a calculation that I’ll leave for another time. I’ve lived the life of an impoverished grad student, watching every penny and challenging every book and food purchase. Realistically though, I tighten up my money awareness when I am preparing to pay my bills or when I go shopping, but I am not agonizing over every minute of electricity used, or the exact amount for a tip. I tighten my attention when I am deciding on how to spend hundreds or more, and am no-tight when I am deciding on how my nickels and dimes are spent. (And yes, it is still possible to be “nickeled and dimed to death”, but nickels and dimes aren’t as powerful as they were when we had five-and-dime stores. I can’t even find the cent symbol on my keyboard anymore.)

I’ve learned that many of my health issues are stress-related. I tightened up over many of the same things we all tighten up about, not just money. The consequences encouraged me to relax, relax some more, and then relax some more. I think I’m hearing the hint. At least my body feels better and friends tell me that I even sound better.

We also just went through some traumatic times that tested everyone. On an individual level and on a societal level, I think we could use a bit more no-tight: a less contentious political atmosphere, less political correctness, more levity, and maybe shed some old defenses. Parts of this era will look silly in retrospect. I highly suggest that we can also benefit from some internal no-tight. We deserve it. We’ve been through a lot.

Okay, time to take my own advice. While typing this up I’ve handled three or four other chores, including today’s karate practice. I think it’s time for a relaxing cup of tea.

PS For those writers in the audience, I practice tight (concentrate on writing this blog within an hour or two) and no-tight (forget about it after that). Just an example that works for me.

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

Safe Tech Relations

Posted on May 7, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

My apologies to Casey Crafts. I was supposed to teach a class there today, but had to cancel. They were going to let me teach basket weaving, but I ran out of time and backed out. In Washington State, English Ivy is a noxious weed. I turn noxious weeds into garden art by weaving ivy and holly into wreathes, baskets, balls, and random shapes. (Not every project is a success.) Basket weaving is proof that some technologies survive. We learned how to weave before we conquered fire. We gave birth to technology and continue to raise it, but now it has now progressed to the point that it may move out on its own. Family relations are about to get interesting.

It’s Saturday, which means I’m sitting in Paul Petersen’s glass and metal art studio selling my books and photos. Paul’s arts rely on fire. It is very primal. The furnace roars. Heat is either intense, or swept away by breezes blowing through the open garage doors. Glass pops and cracks, and the rare dropped piece brings a chorus of sympathy from us and a resigned grin from him. My arts are quieter and more ephemeral. The garden baskets are temporary. My books and photos are based on collections of photons and electrons, insubstantial and possibly eternal.

I started weaving baskets as a way to clean up the yard. English ivy grows too well here. It’s resilient, flexible, and pervasive. That’s why it’s hard to eradicate, but I realized that those same qualities must be good for something. Weaving material. Besides, the cost was right. What did I have to lose from trying? If my baskets were no good they could become compost or kindling. It wasn’t until months later that I recognized the juxtaposition of a rocket scientist / digital artist diving into one of the most ancient technologies. It was fun spanning that much history.

Technology is like money: not a good or an evil, just another product of our civilization. Our use creates positive or negative impact, but ultimate consequences are hard to predict. Would we have developed the automobile if we’d known how many people would be killed in accidents or how pollution would impact the planet? If we hadn’t developed the car, how many horses and other draft animals would’ve led tortuous lives, and how much land would be required for millions or billions of methane producing oxen? Zero impact has only been an option for zero human scenarios.

We begin with immature technologies and develop along with them. Paul’s furnace is fire contained, concentrated and controlled far beyond an evening’s campfire. Our cars have developed. Check with those that remember the 1960s. Smokey exhausts, noisy engines, dim headlamps, dangerous interiors were common but not noticeable then. Watch a vintage truck drive by and imagine millions of those cars and their impact. We’ve progressed the technology, possibly not fast enough, but it and we do progress.

Change is happening more quickly. I follow trends and developments for investing, but also to understand where our civilization and environment are headed. It’s one of the reasons I like living more than a hundred feet above today’s sea level. I’ve seen the data on rising seas. It affects my life choices. The data on technological change suggests that technology is changing more quickly than us, our civilization, and our environment. Ray Kurweil’s book, The Singularity Is Near describes the perspective of exponentially accelerating technological evolution. It is possible that a computer will design a computer that is smarter than itself, which will design a computer that is smarter than itself, which will lead to an intelligence that rapidly exceeds human understanding and control. Optimists conjecture benign intelligences making decisions that solve mankind’s’ problems. Pessimists point to movies like The Terminator and The Matrix, while sci-fi fans know novels that describe far worse threats. Replicators and berserkers are possible. Personally, there are many possibilities, but I suspect the greatest probability is heavily influenced by Murphy’s Law, not that things will go wrong, but in this case that all predictions are flawed.

Despite the flaws predictions are useful to make. Referencing history helps. We’ve created technologies that allow billions to live, but have dramatically impacted the planet. We’ve also modified technologies to increase the positive and decrease the negative, though Murphy and unintended consequences modify the outcome. If technology matures to the point that it moves out on its own, then it defines positive and negative, though I suspect that Murphy remains powerful. We won’t be in control, but we will probably live within mature technology’s influence. Our relationship with technology will have changed more dramatically than what a parent experiences as a child becomes a parent.

History proves that civilizations have planned for one set of futures, but have been radically altered by surprises. Monotheism, bubonic plague, Mongols, and Europeans landing in America surprised and ruined the plans of pagans, royalty, the Roman Empire, and Native Americans. We’re trying to deal with limited resources, global impoverishment, overpopulation, and damaged environments, but I suspect that a radical and self-empowered technological intelligence is equally influential. Most of our global issues are described as extrapolated impacts for 2100. Many people alive today could see that day. Some rental agreements reach that far. Many of us plan for a third of that time with 30 year mortgages. Technological progress is happening more rapidly. Ray Kurweil estimates that technology will grow up and move out within twenty years.

An event twenty years from now is within the scope of IRA’s, federal debt reduction plans, and is less time than it takes for a newborn to reach adulthood.

Is Ray right? I don’t know, but I do know that it puts my plans in perspective. Projecting a portfolio’s growth through retirement can involve debates about whether markets will average a 5%, 7%, or 10% growth. Pick your number, but don’t be surprised if bigger changes enter your life. My plans are drawn with a broader brush, aren’t built with an expectation of exacting focus. I situate myself based on a good guess, and am ready to move if it looks like a good idea.

In the meantime, the ivy continues to grow on a friend’s property so I’ll drop by, pick some, weave some, and maybe teach some. Some things never change.

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

Comfortable Care

Posted on May 4, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

“Old age ain’t no place for sissies.” It’s a quote attributed to Bette Davis. Old is relative and lately I’ve felt relatively old. Relative to the ancient Romans I’m ancient, but their life expectancy was only 28 (including horrendous infant mortality) and was only 52 if they made it to their teen years. Hey, I’m 52! There’s another old quote, but I can’t find the attribution so I’ll paraphrase, “No illness, short life. Little illness, long life.” The idea is that a little illness inspires a person to pay attention to their body, which ultimately leads to better care. The issue of big illness is left unspoken. I’ve had some aches and pains that couldn’t be ignored. I hope the result is a longer, healthier life. The trick has been finding the right care, care that I am comfortable with.

I don’t like boring people with my pains. Instead I tend to mention that I’m taking it easy, or trying to tend to my blood pressure, or my back, or whatever. I’m not going to belabor the points here either. The consequence though has been a tour through various health care facilities. I’ve witnessed a range of costs, attitudes, and my reactions to my options.

Costs are definitely an issue. I miss the health care I had at Boeing, and know why folks with company provided benefits may not understand health care costs. I’m glad that I’m not one of the 50,000,000 uninsured Americans, but I can understand their situation. My monthly health insurance costs about as much my monthly food budget. That insurance has such a high deductible that I essentially pay out of pocket for the first few thousand dollars. It is a very uninsured feeling. My issues have involved cardiovascular and gastro-endocrinology (how is that spelled) so it made sense to sign up for treadmill tests and colonoscopies. It made sense until I asked for estimates. Each test was over $2,000. My potential total for three tests was almost $8,000, which might, but not necessarily, be partly covered by my insurance. The tests were mostly diagnostic. I didn’t want to ask how much it would cost to actually fix anything.

Costs like those did not help my blood pressure. I signed up for for the first test, showed up during a day when they were practicing emergency preparedness, went into a panic attack while waiting, which shot up my blood pressure and interrupted the test. I didn’t get my money back. Do they even have money back guarantees?

Some other incidents took me to the point that I associated western health care with stress, which has become an unfortunate cycle. There’s an old joke that’s also old advice. “Doctor, doctor. It hurts when I do this.” “Well, then. Don’t do that.” Doctor, doctor, it hurts to show up at your office. Well, then . . .

But the main hurts remain so I sought other solutions.

Whidbey Island is home to many alternative healing practices, though alternative is a relative notion. The Chinese probably don’t label acupuncture as “alternative”. It’s mainstream there, isn’t it? Many of my friends are healers, though they may call themselves practitioners, coaches, consultants, or counselors, probably to help better describe the benefits of their discipline. I have a lot to choose from.

For reasons that would fit a book, but are associated with my martial arts background, and also for convenience I decided to try acupuncture. Something felt out of balance and acupuncture is one of many ways to rebalance the body. It was worth a try and a highly recommended establishment (what do you call an acupuncture office – ah, there are so many pin puns that I’ll skip) was a just a long walk from my house. (Let’s keep in mind that I can walk a long way. Remember Scotland?) Oriental Healing Arts isn’t just an acupuncture office, which means they don’t always use needles. They understand and use a suite of techniques, many that I don’t understand, but my understanding was not required. Even western medicine tends to work with a great deal of uncertainty.

I’ve been there several times over the last few months. I’m feeling better, and I have a way to go before I’m back to feeling good and normal again. (Yeah, I know, normal ain’t normal; and folks have said that I’ve never been normal.) What’s worked and why? The scientist in me can’t draw conclusions because I am a clinical trial of one, which is a very small sample from which to draw statistics. Julie, the Msc.D., E.A.M.P., whatever that spells, could describe my diagnosis and prognosis, though I am sure that professional discretion means that you won’t hear those details unless I tell you. I haven’t asked for the whole story. Stay tuned. I can say though that I feel better.

After a few visits I realized that those details didn’t matter, at least not immediately. Visiting Julie’s place was a remarkable contrast to visiting my other doctors. I associate Oriental Healing with comfort, pleasant surroundings, quiet music, relaxed atmosphere, and no rush. I’ve come to associate Western offices and clinics with standing in line, proving insurance first, waiting while they run behind schedule, quick handling through multiple measurements, a hurried conversation, probably an expensive prescription, and a fear that I might be walking into the first of a long schedule of specialists. It’s easy to imagine open-ended costs running me into bankruptcy.

Allow me to emphasize that I like the people in both places. Health care providers are compassionate people. They smile well. But one group works in a much nicer setting. I have the choice of an organic garden or a hydroponics farm. I also have the choice of either feeling like I am being treated as a person or feeling like I’m a product on an assembly line. I’ve got a business and geek inclination. I understand assembly line efficiency. That efficiency drives down costs. Paradoxically, the assembly line version of health care costs more, isn’t as pleasant, and isn’t demonstrably more effective. Doctor, doctor, why would I do that? Most of my issues seem to stem from stress. I’m not the only stressed person out here. Which makes more sense with that in mind?

Oh, and the frugal finance geek in me was pleasantly surprised to learn that acupuncture qualifies as a health care income tax deduction. That too is a comforting thought. (Though not as comfortable as resting on the soft sheets with the music playing with my eyes closed. Besides, keeping my eyes closed keeps my brain from thinking too much. Relax dude. Does that feel good? Yeah. Then do more of that.)

So, some advice for you and me: Be comfortable. Take care.

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

Curious Nose Prints

Posted on April 30, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

The economy must be doing better. There were nose prints on the glass. Windows don’t get smudged by people standing back. Something convinced them to be curious enough to lean forward.

Last week I taught my ever-changing seminar on Modern Self-Publishing. I won’t go into the details here, but the quick version is that the publishing industry is undergoing the same changes that we’ve watched in independent movies and music. The class continues to change because the technology continues to change. Digital technology is changing many industries, including the arts, and yes, art is an industry; it just isn’t as efficiently or boringly managed as most corporations. The class was fun, I do enjoy teaching, but the timing could have been better. Langley’s Welcome the Whales parade literally passed me by while I stayed inside and taught. Reports are that it was fun. The video certainly showed a crowd. Oh well, at least I got to see it on YouTube.

It was hard to ignore the crowds as they passed the class room windows. Luckily, living in a tourist town is a wonderful education in people watching. This is a small town island and I could tell that most of the people wandering by weren’t familiar, weren’t locals, and were welcomed back. The tourists were in town again. There’ve always been a few, but during the last few lean years, the few were more likely to stroll by instead of wander through the shops. Last weekend many were more curious. They pressed their noses to the glass. They even walked into buildings that weren’t shops or stores. They were exploring forgotten realms. One walked into my class as if we were some art performance. Maybe we were from her point of view. I didn’t mind and invited her to stay – for the nominal fee of course.

Ah, but gas prices are up. The conventional wisdom is that people won’t be traveling or buying as much. I understand convention. I agree and think it is wrong, but in a good way.

People may not travel as far, but there are years of pent-up demand. They are getting out. Travel will be simpler and more local.

They may not be buying as much, but I think they are more conscious about what they buy.

If we all stayed home and bought nothing the planet may say thank you, but our civilization would suffer, at least temporarily. Besides, the buying isn’t as important as the community and one place community has always collected has been the market.

The effects of the Dismal Decade are fading. Aspects will remain, just like we still live with the implications of the Great Depression and the Civil War (aka War Between the States, The Northern Oppression, etc.). Our history shapes our future. That shouldn’t be news. It may seem that we never learn, but evidently we do. Sometime along the line we realized the benefits of the steam engine, the end of slavery, the Internet, equality for all, farming, and our interconnections.

There is always an argument for revolutionary change. This may be the time. Maybe we’re ready for it, maybe not. To me it is obvious that the recent economic turmoil changed many lives and attitudes, but it is also evident that many habits remain. I think the retreat to old ways of consuming are about to become anachronisms though. Bigger, faster cars, brighter bling, fancier gadgets, are becoming the goal of fewer, those that are still conspicuously rich. I find it interesting that the elite, the rich that are getting richer, are the ones most likely to reside in a more exclusive, and more energetically defended, shrinking enclave within our society. The rich that are getting richer are fewer. The number that are poor are increasing. At some point that imbalance corrects itself. Hmm, I think I just walked myself back around to revolutionary change.

I don’t know where we are heading as we leave the Dismal Decade behind. Our societies have always embodied some injustice, at least in retrospect. The only way injustice may be eradicated is a sudden global awakening of the global consciousness. Prayers for that have existed since prayers extended beyond asking for help in the hunt.

We may not have attained unanimity, but significant numbers of people are becoming more empowered and more globally aware. The digital effects on media are allowing expression at historic levels. Blogs like this never existed except as journalism subjected to excruciating editorial review which caught lots of typos, but filtered away passion and voice. Digital community is allowing an awareness of culture, imbalances, needs, and answers that are largely unfiltered by authority figures. Resources are more likely to find the right place to be applied, whether it is tents to disaster victims, or the light of discourse applied to ignorance. People are communicating without waiting for permission. They are becoming spontaneously curious.

Overlooked wisdom my finally find receptive audiences. People who steered from the mainstream to find the source and the fundamentals of consciousness may find crowds following their path. Frugal folk may be surprised to find that, their struggles, their forced or chosen resourcefulness, may be seen as a valuable resource and the focus of engaged curiosities. I hope that local farmers and artisans aren’t dismissed because they’re just down the road. An expert is anyone from out of town, but not really. Experts live amongst us and are us. Finding such resources close is wonderfully convenient.

Curiosities, noses on windows, are getting people out of their houses, into their neighborhoods, and into other lifestyles, communities, and cultures. Occasionally we’ll smudge the glass a bit, or surprise someone by walking into their space, but I think the benefits far outweigh the costs. Really, it doesn’t take much to clean a nose print off the glass. Let’s lean forward and learn from what we see.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Individuals Effort

Posted on April 27, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

It can be lonely out there. Decisions to make. Chores and errands that no one else can accomplish. Beyond that are global issues that are so large that just looking at them can overwhelm an individual. I can be overwhelmed looking at any home repair project that involves electricity. Individual efforts, especially ones with a bit of help from another individual, can accomplish much, whether that is changing the world or changing a life.

There’s a dance practice every Tuesday night at Bayview Hall, which is useless to anyone from outside the area, but it is very handy for local dancers, like me, who are practicing things that aren’t taught in classes. Some people want new moves. I want to get better at reading my dance partner’s flow. Everyone is different, and are frequently unaware of what their difference is. Some turn better to the left than the right without knowing it. Some want to spin once, twice, thrice, or not at all. Some prefer closed position to open. For two hours every Tuesday night I get to practice reading my follow (I’m the lead so my partner’s the follow. Get it?) while someone else is practicing pivot turns, or basic footwork, or just having fun. And yes, there are people who have to practice having fun.

The practices happen because we, an unofficial group of dancers, occasionally meet and decide on roles, schedules and pricing. Someone interacts with the Board of the hall. Someone puts up the flyers. Someone puts out the emails. Someone plays the music. Someone sets up and cleans up. And we all chip in. (Don’t we? nudge, nudge) It is not a group effort. It is a collection of individual efforts. We have fun and raise some money for an eighty year old rural dance hall. (By the way, the practices are open to the public: ~ 6:30-8:30, $5, smiles and laughs are encouraged.)

Practice ends before the local supermarket closes, so I usually go shopping afterwards. Last night I ran into a fine fellow who was loading up his panniers before bicycling his food back home. In one of those quick grocery line conversations I mentioned that I’d used similar equipment on my ride across America and he pointed out that he was training for a charity bicycle trip down to San Francisco (S2SF :: 2011) that will raise funds for the Ndoto Project. The project is about empowering youth in Africa. It is also about someone, an individual, having an idea and pursuing it.

I know others that have started movements, initiatives, and businesses. It is easy to look back at any notable endeavor and talk about it as an abstraction by considering the actions of the group. Look back far enough though and there’s usually a time when an inspiration struck one or two people doing something completely different, or sitting with a cup of tea or glass of beer. They decided to act and good things happened.

The Ndoto Project may expand or inspire. As I type this the web site describes the goal of getting five young Kenyans into college. Maybe it will grow to help more. Maybe it’s main accomplishments will result from the efforts of five educated Kenyans.

Grand plans are worth pursuing. So are efforts closer to home.

As of 2000 the most common household type was “single”. Been there. Am there. Not my preferred situation, but that is the way it is.

Single people, especially as they get older, can’t do everything. I’m lucky enough to have a network of friends to call. It isn’t the same as having someone in the next room, but it is far better than trying to do everything with only one pair of hands. Someone calls and I help with moving furniture. I call and someone helps me with a bit of wiring. A few of us have experienced panic attacks (which I am convinced is a phase middle-aged men go through, but that is rarely discussed because of derisive comments about mid-life crisis), and it is powerful and helpful to have someone who will pick up the phone just to listen and talk.

My skills are not in carpentry, wiring, or plumbing, but evidently sometimes I can listen and ask the right questions. In this digital world I’ve also helped friends with simple computer problems, have translated internet jargon, and have passed along basic Facebook and email etiquette. My hands may not get as messy, but evidently I’ve helped clean up bits for others. (I still refer anything substantial to the professionals like Gail at The Tranquil Computer.)

Many of us are alone, in a variety of ways. There are people within marriages that feel alone because their partner can’t understand something they are going through, even something good. At times like that, the partner or the partners can reach out to another. It can be too difficult to be alone, but if two people can start Microsoft, and two people can start Apple, then two friends should be able to sort through how to invest an inheritance, and two other friends should be able to install a woodstove, and two other people help each other get through bad day. And maybe two can help each other and then help a third.

A friend lamented, and I agreed, that life shouldn’t be this rough. That complaint is probably as old as language. Maybe it was one of the first phrases shouted when a hungry ancestor missed a meal because the arrow went wide. But we’ve gotten this far because of our individual efforts. Thanks for all the help, and call if you need a hand.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Decisive Power

Posted on April 22, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

People impress me. Most of us are able to run our lives much more efficiently than the government is able to run the country. It’s not the government’s fault. It was drawn up that way. Legislators must choose between yes and no, and there are greater incentives for saying no. To get through a normal day, regular people have to say yes to something, and many times no is not an option.

Thank you to everyone who worked on the Constitution. I know you’re all gone by now, but I thank you anyway. I think it is due for a revision, just like any bit of writing. (There’s too much ambiguity and too many anachronisms, why else do we argue about the Second Amendment so much?) It was a great improvement over every other form of government in the late 1700s.

Unfortunately, Congress is driven by arcane rules that operate around votes of either yes or no, with a few abstentions. Yes represents a commitment to action, a decision to follow a course. But nothing is certain, so failure and unintended consequences can ruin political careers. Yes can make the world a better place, but it requires legislators and senators to be personally responsible. No is a much easier vote. No allows for righteous indignation, noble defenses against government spending, political maneuvering, and I-told-you-so.

Real lives are driven by choices. Eating is not a yes or no option. Either you have enough or you don’t. If you have enough, then yes is implied and the vital action is choice and a decision. At least that’s true for me. I’ve never said yes to everything on the menu, or cooked everything in the pantry and refrigerator. Jobs, transportation, housing, education, and recreation are long lists of choices and consequences.

By the way, for those that don’t have enough, government’s no’s mean even fewer choices.

Most Americans excel at making decisions. Visitors can be overwhelmed by our menus, multiplexes, supermarkets and shopping malls. I’ve known some of them to simply surrender and ask a local to make the decision for them.

I’m not going to get into the wisdom of some decisions because sometime we’ve each picked the wrong option, gone down the wrong path, picked the wrong words. It is too easy to be judgmental.

Instead, I want to emphasize the skills we have. Our ability to make decisions is an under-appreciated skill. Fortunately it is a skill that immensely powerful. Deciding what’s going to happen is much more powerful than just saying yes to whatever will happen, or saying no in an attempt to keep everything from changing. People who are good at frugality or investing understand choices and decisions. They recognize that there are more choices available than what they first see, and they realize that their choices affect their lives. It is a powerful way to live and it is a power that is available to everyone, even people who feel powerless.

Part of my pessimism is produced by the yes or no culture and processes within our government. The government doesn’t have to be constrained by only yes or no, but it seems powerless and doesn’t realize that the very document that established the government also established mechanisms to change and improve.

Part of my optimism is produced by the people that recognize their power to choice the life and world that they want to live in. There’s a famous (and disputed) quote from Margaret Mead:
“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
I also like the corollary to it which is to imagine what would happen if there were so many small groups that agreed that they represented a majority. We The People then embodies impressive power.

I’ll put global issues aside though because individual choices are more powerful. Deciding to live more frugally, deciding to invest actively and possibly in each other, results in benefits at a personal level. Abstractions and ideologies are inconsequential compared to people living healthier and more sustainable lives within healthier and more sustainable communities.

We, you and I, have these powers. We simply have to decide to use them. Thanks to those that do.

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

Electric Parties

Posted on April 20, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

I am not addicted to Facebook. I merely have it up whenever the computer is turned on. Well, okay, so I do post there a bit. I am not alone.

Facebook has over a half-billion active users. There are barely twice that many personal computers in use, and Facebook stretches into smartphones. Some lament the intrusion of technology. I celebrate the growth and pervasiveness of community. The electrons and electronics helped it happen.

Life on a rural island requires resourcefulness. When the snowstorm trapped people in their homes, or at least made them decide to not drive anywhere, people got busy on Facebook with lots of posts, pictures, and shared stories. There were even a few 4WD favors as some ventured to the store for others. When we’re warned about tsunamis, notices, links, and offers of safe havens are passed along.

Facebook is not alone.

We’re surrounded by the Salish Sea, so orcas and grey whales do laps around the island, but they are elusive. Want to find the whales? Lots of locals email whale reports to one central unofficial and effective authority: the Orca Network. (Donations appreciated.) Their baby announcements are particularly well received.

Drew Kampion, penultimate surfer and sage, produces a daily set of emails that cover the island’s classes, freebies, art shows, jobs, and other innovative connections. It’s like craigslist, but much less structured, which is good for our community of free-form lifestyles. (Donations appreciated again.)

I’m even on Twitter now (@tetrimbath). Adding another network felt overwhelming, so I postponed joining until recently. Now that I’ve joined I get it. I see why and how it can help and be used.

I joined LinkedIn too, but that one doesn’t seem to be as active and useful – yet.

Of all of the titles I list in my bio, “Writer, Speaker, Teacher, Photographer, Engineer, Entrepreneur, etc.”, networker is missing unless you read between the letters of etc. Networking is not a job, but it is an occupation. It occupies my time because I enjoy people. I’m both and extrovert and an introvert. As I’ve said in other places:
If people see my extroverted side, they might not believe I need quiet time. If they see my introverted side, people might not believe that I enjoy people, public speaking and throwing parties.

I prefer to meet people in person. (Dancing is much more fun that way.) The majority of communication is non-verbal. Phone calls miss body language, but at least capture intonation and emphasis. Emails allow for revision and review, but miss human cues. Video chats probably get around a lot of that, but I haven’t tried that yet; though I remember very jittery video-conferences where I concentrated on my notes so I wouldn’t get nauseous from the electronically spastic images.

Until the telephone, almost all human communication was immediate. The other person wasn’t an abstraction. They were within arm’s reach, which encouraged manners and politeness. Hugs were encouraged. Insults didn’t initiate flame wars; instead, insults may have initiated bruises.

Technology has frequently been feared, yet with education and wisdom, it is accepted and used. Computers were invented to help with the census and artillery barrages, not free music sharing as one person adamantly asserted. Email was developed to allow academics and the military to pass along data and messages, particularly across a battle damaged network. Facebook was for dating. Blogs were a way for admins to track and record system performance issues across shifts. As for LinkedIn and Twitter, maybe they’re actually being used according to their original designs. It happens.

We are social creatures, and we live in an era when we can be aware of global problems while also be reaching out to larger communities than ever existed. I am encouraged because we’re taking tools and using them to build connections, networks populated by us, despite initial intentions.

Someone passed along a party analogy for these various media. Email is like handing a letter to a friend – who has a massive copy machine that they may or may not use. A message on Facebook is like walking up to someone and passing them a note. Posting on someone’s wall on Facebook is like walking into a party of friends and shouting something across the room. Maybe everyone will listen, many folks will probably nod and ignore it. Twitter is like buying a headline, and the number of your followers determines whether it is a headline in the New York Times or in some newsletter. And blogs are more like freelance journalism, but without the editors or paychecks.

Whatever technolgy’s intent, it is a tool that with wisdom and practice can save time and money, while improving our social lives. We are impressively connecting up, building networks, and reaching across borders. It might just be a way to find a cheap car, or to find out if it’s safe to drive out of the neighborhood, but it’s result is a wider, more pervasive society. We may see fewer people in a day, but we are less alone – and I think we are heading to a much bigger community, and a much better party. Thank you electrons. (Ben Franklin never saw this coming.)

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

Show Up

Posted on April 16, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

The folks that show up may not have signed up. The folks that signed up may not show up. That explains the traffic on the dance floor last night. At the urging of others I reserved a table for dinner for dancers. By the time the band started it was obvious that the reservations were mostly worthless. The seats were all taken, but with a different cast. Exacting reservations weren’t as important as the fact that the folks who showed up had fun.

Showing up is powerful. Retire and become valuable. Every charity will be happy to take your time. They’ll be happy to take your money too, but there’s always work that needs to be physically finished. I save time for volunteering, sometimes digitally (e.g. as Secretary of The New Road Map Foundation), sometimes as grunt labor (e.g. as one of the fence-building, blackberry-whacking, site stewards for Whidbey Camano Land Trust). Cheap labor is worth a lot to an organization with more work than money or people.

Showing up for yourself is self-empowering. I’ve learned, and am learning, to show up for myself. Great philosophies center on self-less behaviour. Ultimately, that probably proves out to be true, but charity also begins at home, and I have plenty of internal personal projects to complete before I devote myself to a monastic life or dive into a world of self-less service. Before I can become sustainably altruistic I have to take care of myself.

It’s Saturday, so one way I am showing up for myself is to sit and sell. It’s the Saturday Art Show at Bailey’s Corner that I described last week. My photos and books are racked, displayed and priced. I’ve already had one interested customer, interested, but not paying, yet. It’s a few hours of tending my photos, practicing my writing (via this blog), and practicing photographing a new environment (indoor candids of patrons, artists and our host, glass artist Paul Petersen). Learning to type with chilled fingers may be a useful skill, but for now it’s just a nuisance.

This is definitely not just a way to kill time. If I wanted to do that I’d find a warmer activity. Being this cold can also be fun, if I’m skiing or hiking. Maybe I’ve met an artist that started creating to fill the time, but such an approach dies quickly. Art takes effort, especially in ways that never show up in the final product. Shopping for framing sales, Helping fellow artists move. (Boxes of rocks should not be packed on top of boxes of feathers.) Taxes, licensing, advertising, web maintenance, and association dues are hassles and expenses but they are worth the cost for someone who has found a passion.

Showing up is not a guarantee of anything. But not showing up has a very high likelihood of not succeeding.

Woody Allen is frequently quoted as saying, “Eighty percent of success is showing up.” Pardon me as I paraphrase an earlier post: In Freaknomics, the authors Levitt and Dubner point out that many successful people, whatever success may be, frequently achieve it through persistence. Maybe if I persist in repeating that the thought will sink in. A more specific variant is Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000-Hour rule (from his book Outliers). My understanding is that, while neither failure nor success is guaranteed, and while luck plays a large role, successful people tend to reach that success after about 10,000 hours of effort. Devote about twenty hours a week for about ten years and you’ve practiced for 10,000 hours.

Spending twenty hours a week on anything is hard, and difficult to wrap around a forty-hour workweek. Family and friends will notice.

For retirees, ten thousand hours can be intimidating because of the apparently late start. Retirees though may have already accrued hours. I retired from engineering just over a decade ago. It wasn’t until years later that I wrote my first book, and even later before I started selling my photos. But looking back I realize that both my writing and my camera work really began in junior high. While I worked in a cubicle I trivialized my teenage efforts because they were what I did as a kid and had nothing to do with aerospace engineering. Now I recognize that my junior high work led to practicing via the high school newspaper, aided my college essays, continued developing through corporate communications including organizing photo shoots, and finally had a chance to be tended and grown after I handed in my Boeing badge.

I won’t label myself as a success because using that label here entwines with your definition. I do know that some have called me a successful writer and artist, and I appreciate their compliments. Inside my head and heart I don’t use the word. My main measures are to be pleased with my work, for it to serve others somehow, and for me to make progress with deeper, clearer and more concise self-expression. Of course, it would be very handy to make more money from my efforts. More money would help me produce more and better work. Financial success as an artist would also ease many conversations with people who want to ask how my art is doing without dredging up starving artist stories. (I may not have “enough” but I’m not starving. Go check DNDN and MVIS, but maybe skip over AMSC.)

Retirement doesn’t mean doing nothing. It does mean I can finally spend the time showing up, getting things done, giving serendipity more chances to walk through the doorway, giving me time to relax as I watch for good opportunities to come by, and by giving me time to make mistakes and fix them. I get to help myself, others, and the world; frequently, in ways I can’t predict or necessarily understand.

It’s been a treat and a surprise to learn that I’ve been showing up for longer than I knew. Thinking back, I started dancing in college. It turns out that showing off as a teen-ager was the start of showing up as an adult.

PS Hey! Scatchet Sunset just sold! Yeah. She bought the autographed copy, a one-of-a-kind.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Restless Society

Posted on April 13, 2011 by Tom Trimbath

Retire. Relax. Take the time to wander around town and watch the world go by. If I did too much of that I’d gain too much weight and lose too much money. We talk about slowing down our frenetic society, but there’s little in place to let it rest.

Yesterday I made a calendar mistake. I did a few chores around the house but soon left to meet a friend for lunch, head off to a lesson, and run a string of errands before ending the evening by dancing. It was going to be a full day of disassociated events well scheduled and arranged. It turned out to be a practice run and an exercise because I got the day right but the week wrong. Most of that was scheduled for next week, which left me feeling sheepish and looking for something to make of the day.

I could’ve returned home after having a rare solo lunch date, but the sun was burning away the clouds and I found myself in a warming spring day. It looked like it might even creep up to air that felt almost like April. Most of my small household chores were done. The lawn was mowed. There was nothing I could do to suddenly make the garden grow. The rest of the chores were too big for just an afternoon, especially if I was going to end up dancing. I decided to act the part of a retired person, or maybe a weekday tourist. That should be easy on Whidbey. The island’s demographic is graying and tourism is a major industry. It should be easy to kick back.

Kicking back does work, but for the most part a place to comfortably and simply sit usually takes money, calories, or outdoor attire. I’d just had lunch, which was fine, but diners want diners to eat it and run. Free up the table for the next person, unless you want to have a dessert or two. The winter watched me gain enough weight to backslide a notch on the belt. I didn’t want dessert and I didn’t need something else to drink. I wondered around town for a while. Langley is a good town for that. It’s why tourists visit. Langley is small enough to walk around, but big enough to have plenty to see and do – unless it is a Tuesday before the main tourist season. In that case, many of my friends have picked the same quiet mid-week day to close their shops so they can rest up before the main sweep of business.

Sitting in some quiet bistro sounds quaint and relaxing, but again, I didn’t want anything to eat or drink. I could’ve bought something anyway and let it sit there on the table, effectively renting a spot for the price of a pint or a macaroon, but I don’t like wasting money or food. The library was open, but I tend to fall asleep there, they might not like that, and I don’t like to snore and drool in public. Beside, it probably wouldn’t be quiet. Libraries are no longer the sanctuaries of silence I remember from childhood. It isn’t worse, it’s just different, but I don’t feel relaxed listening to multiple halves of cell phone conversations, even if they are sotto whispered. (I’m sorry to hear about your father going into the hospital, and it’s good that you care, but I’ll be leaving now because I don’t need to hear the details of his surgery.) I suppose I could’ve dropped by a church, but I see them as places for worship for their parishioners, not for loitering by strangers.

We talk about slowing down the pace of life, yet we have laws against it. I was effectively trying to loiter. The laws may be there to combat hooliganism or as leverage to use for moving along homeless people, but the consequences have also worked against a more relaxed society. I sat in the park for a while on a hard bench, shivered a bit and saw the dilemma. If the park seating was more comfortable and sheltered from the wind and rain, it was be so attractive that it would be lived in. As much as I wanted a place to temporarily simply and comfortably sit, such a place would already be occupied or over-used.

If it feels like you are only really comfortable at home, in your car, or maybe even in your office with the door shut (for those few who actually have real offices), you might be right. The most comfortable place for me without going home was to go sit in my car. The seat was cushioned and the weather held away. It was even warm if I parked it in the sun.

This isn’t just a problem on Whidbey. I witnessed the same dilemma when I lived in suburbia, but there the issue was complicated by “No Parking” signs. Where do I put myself and my car in that environment? Oddly enough there is a place. It’s called the mall. No wonder so many seniors and kids wander about in the closed and comfortable confines of a suburban shopping mall.

Many talk about building community, yet there are few places where we’ve actually built structures that support it. Langley is working more towards that. It has a Commons. A local bookstore and coffeeshop that is aiming to be a community living room is run by students, so the energy is higher; and it’s well-designed and equipped, so it can be quite comfortable. They even hold events there, including some of my talks and slideshows.

Such places are rare. I bow to those who saw the need and contributed the resources that made it happen. It works in this small town environment, and is one example of what I like here that I don’t expect to find anywhere more urban. Larger places are more expensive and someone has to pay for it. A small town is more likely to find a passionate and understanding local philanthropist.

One solution is community based person-to-person interaction, the original P2P, which only requires two Ps, two people, who have the same time and interest in visiting with and talking with each other. Simply visiting friends fills the need. It’s probably the biggest challenge I’ve encountered by retiring early. Almost everyone else I know with a similar age and background is still at work. Almost everyone I know who is at home is either raising a family or is a senior citizen. My situation is under my own control, and I’ve found ways to stitch together community. Usually it works, buts somedays, maybe with just the slipped glance at the calendar, gaps form in the net. Then it is easy to see some of the unresolved disconnects and conflicts within my life and our society.

There are bigger problems to fix: global climate change, social injustice, unsustainable civilizations. I wonder though, how many resources are consumed, how much discontent is created, because we’ve yet to find a way to build and sustain simple places, and simple societies, within which we can rest.

Personally, it’s time now for me to slide into my comfy chair at home and watch the whales go by, whether they’re there or not.

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