#daily videos

October 2017

1 November 2017

The proof arrived. It wasn’t perfect, but that’s the point. It proved a better version could exist.

 

With that being done and a flashback to the Latin ablative, I set out to make October a month of hardening. Previous months were dedicated to transitioning, experimenting, and expanding. The result was a variety of accomplishments and new activities, but with a great deal of disorganization and compromise in the wake. So I devoted myself to going back and doing the non-urgent but important things–cooking healthier meals, buying socks without holes, etc. I sure know how to live. So much so I flew back to Ann Arbor to stand in pouring rain for hours watching my alma mater lose a football game.

 

The visit was good, sans the primary purpose. Saw some friends that I hadn’t seen in a couple years. Spent time with my sister and cousins. Experienced mild nostalgia walking around town. It was a good weekend for a few reasons: seeing the folks listed, learning that I don’t like the feeling of nostalgia, and realizing I no longer own anything affiliated with my school. Rectified the latter with a new sweatshirt. I don’t think I’ll return for some time though. The travel and tickets were pricey and I didn’t derive enough enjoyment to justify the means. Walking around the woods is more exciting and significantly cheaper. And moving forward leaves me more fulfilled. I digress.

 

I took out the mountain bike to Gateway Park in Traveler’s Rest. Lots of red dirt and a fun skills track–bridges, ramps, winding trails. After a couple laps through the course, my confidence got the best of me and I went over the handlebars. That’ll be the last time I forget my gloves. On the bright side, my hand’s now callousing in a new place. Crashing feels good.

 

In the spirit of hardening, I made the decision to go quality in more things. For years, I took the cheap route with almost everything–travel, food, clothes, etc. I’ve come to realize that the reduced up-front cost comes with additional expenses in maintenance, hassle, and a lessened experience. Casting aside the guilt of spending more money, I invested in Mack Weldon apparel. The quality of underwear has significantly enhanced my daily life. It’s stupid, but the smallness of this has spurred me toward a paradigm shift: Good over cheap and fast. I’m approaching work and personal goals in the same manner. Quality over speed. Quality over cost. I’m not in a rush and I don’t have time to be cheap. With a lot of projects in flight, it’s time to focus and get out of start mode.

 

I ended the month with a weekend trip to Pawley’s Island for a writing conference. It wasn’t what I expected, but I think the experience will pay off. At least more than a football game.

 

 

 

September 2017

16 October 2017

September started off with a global morning. A call with Switzerland to discuss their data storage strategy. A call with New York to better engage Turkey with design education. A Swedish furniture delivery by two Hispanic gentleman. A call with a Texan about backup issues. And a winding line in the South Carolina DMV to become a resident. Despite the two hours of waiting, the DMV experience was positive: congenial workers and a shockingly efficient process. In one visit, I printed a new driver’s license, filed paperwork, snagged a fresh license plate, and paid fees–all in one pop. I may have low expectations, but I was impressed. While it was weird to hand over my Michigan ID, it was nice to finally have a state ID that matched my residence.

 

Following last month’s eclipse, another oddity crept through town: the Reedy River turned neon green. It looked like antifreeze. Authorities claimed that a special dye, normally used to detect sewer leaks, was placed in the river. To my knowledge, the who and why still remain a mystery. Police are quiet on the topic, leaving my imagination to run wild.

 

On the topic of green things, I joined the tennis league at work. I’ve experienced mediocre success in hitting the little green balls where I desire., but it’s been fun to get back into the swing of sports. I hadn’t played tennis in 8 years, which was an eerie realization in and of itself. Friends also pulled me back into running and rock climbing, the former begrudgingly and latter with great enthusiasm. With this sudden rise of activity, I also went white-water rafting on the Nantahala River in North Carolina. It was a good primer to the sport–no need for brain buckets, but enough rapids to have fun.

 

Most importantly, I finished my novel on the 27th. It was the date I had promised myself 100 days ago. Despite all the job changing and relocating, it felt good to stick with my timeline. The draft is rough, but it’s complete, cover-to-cover. I look forward to rewriting and revising in the coming months.

 

August 2017

15 October 2017

I like transitory periods–the bittersweet end of one chapter and hopeful excitement as the next begins. This was August in a nutshell.

 

It started by spending time with family and friends I’ve known so long they’re basically family. Although restless to begin the next chapter, I took some rest and enjoyed Michigan’s typical summer offerings–canoes, Coast Guard Festival, hiking, and the like. After attending my cousin’s wedding in Traverse City, I loaded my stuff into my two-door Wrangler and headed south. It had been just long of a year since I had lived in South Carolina. For the first time in six years and seven addresses, this move didn’t have an end date. It was a weird feeling moving somewhere “permanently”…a mix between refreshing and confusing. After the twelve-hour drive, I found a boxed mattress at the doorstep of my new apartment–an old brick house on Toy Street. The address may or may not have been the deciding factor.

 

Throughout the month, I got accustomed to the new job and refurnished my home with Ikea–ripe for a Tyler Durden explosion. Adding to the aesthetic, my new office is fits the bill–gray cubes, stained carpets, a gym with all-purpose soap and single temperature showers. The utilitarianism of the environment gets me off. It provides a sense of peace and quiet and enables me to do the one thing that’s been ruled out of the modern workplace: focus. Perhaps I’m a ludite, but I like drabness.

 

Almost as much as I enjoy urban legends. In the Carolinas, the “Lizardman” is a Bigfoot-equivalent that’s said to appear during natural anomalies. So I happened to make my move at the right time. Greenville was situated in the path of totality for the solar eclipse, and the Lizardman was expected to make an experience. Like most cryptids, it eluded me. But seeing complete darkness in the early afternoon on an otherwise bright and sunny day was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Crickets sounded. Street-lamps activated. The sun looked like something out of a space opera. Five stars, nature. Five stars.

 

In other news, I explored some more waterfalls, rekindling my fondness of the area, and found a strange fruit on sidewalk. It looked like an alien brain. A friend identified it as an osage orange. It repelled spiders. If only it worked for my cockroach roommates…

 

Home sweet home, Greenville, SC.

 

July 2017

29 August 2017

July was a big month. It began with a summit of Nevada’s highest point and ended with the purchase of a Wrangler. In retrospect, the order of those activities would be better in reverse.

 

After the adventure in Nevada, I began the arduous task of selling the bulk of my possessions. The rusty old Chevy was blowing fuses left and right and would go for nothing but scrap in California due to smog regulations. Old Faithful was nothing but, so I owed her a return to the elephant graveyard in Michigan. My role on the rotational program was coming to a close, and the logistics of my next role were still in flux. Rather than depend on a third party, I went for a self-move. Not wishing to burden the truck, I sold every large item on Craigslist–even my trashcan (a really nice model by simplehuman that I would later purchase for my new home). I sold my sofa. I sold my dresser. I sold my table, chairs, vacuum, and bike. My homemade desk, my homemade chest, my unicycles. Even my beloved elephant foot palm–a lovely plant I had fostered for five years and carried with me across the country. I dumped the excess Ugly Sapling books at a used bookstore in Dublin (which caused a regional spike in website visits, according to Google Analytics). Anything that didn’t come with me–outdoor gear, clothes, and personal items–I brought to various Goodwills and Salvation Army’s. It was surprisingly difficult to donate quality items, I discovered, in such an affluent region of great excess. But where there’s a will…

 

With my possessions unpossessed and job responsibilities transferred, I began the cross-country trek. Through the crowds of California to the deserts of Nevada, the salt-flats of Utah to the hills of Wyoming, the fields of Kansas to the forests of Missouri…it was long. The truck didn’t have air-conditioning. I had plenty of time to think for those five days. En route, I stayed at a few Motel 6’s to escape the heat and shower. They were a good price and advertised the four things I wanted: a bed, a pool, Wi-Fi, and air-conditioning. The air-conditioning was more of a fan to cycle the warm air. The Wi-Fi didn’t work. The pools were either closed or drained. The bed…well…let’s just say I’ve seen cleaner sheets and believe bugs belong in gardens. My learning: Add 2 and you’ll be alright. Super 8’s were heaven in comparison.

 

One night, I was fortunate enough to find my favorite rest area. The same one I had stayed at with my dad in the same truck over decade ago. It was a scenic spot in Pine Bluffs, Wyoming. I made a nest in the bed and slept under the stars. It was my best rest area experience to date. I also managed to bag a few more highpoints–Nebraska, Kansas, and Missouri. All drive-ups, but well-spaced milestones to keep me sane. Twenty-eight down.

 

To the end the month, I returned to Michigan. I saw my family and readjusted to Eastern Time. I sold the truck and bought a jeep.

 

One ring ends and the next begins.

 

June 2017

16 July 2017

Northern California is brown now. The rolling green hills of winter and spring have turned dry–the plants shriveled and dull, ground hard and cracked. During my first week here, I took my bike up and down green slopes. The earth was so wet that I ended up sliding face first in the mud. This June, I biked through the hills again, over earth so dry that I was nearly vibrated off the trail. The weather change may be minor, but the seasonal climate shift is nothing to scoff at.

 

Short of work and biking; I had a quick trip to Atlanta. It was the first time I had flown in several months, and I had the pleasure of spending long layovers in new airports. Sarcasm withheld, I am quite fond of long layovers. Once through security and not late for a flight, airports are relaxing. There’s plenty of time to read, think, and people watch. The anticipation of the flight to come is exciting, and there’s always a conveyor belt to walk on.

 

Despite the anticipation, the Atlanta trip was a net loss since I dropped my phone in Lake Lanier. Unable to retrieve it–despite the Otter Box probably keeping it perfectly dry–I upgraded to the iPhone 7 when I came home. Short of the missing audio jack (improved aesthetics and impetus to buy AirPods), there was nothing notably different than the 6. t was due for an upgrade anyway.

 

Beyond a technology upgrade, I enhanced a few other things. One, the premium version of Spotify–convenience and quality well worth the monthly fee. Two, a subscription to The Economist–well worth the limited ads and world news. Three, a loss of my best never-have-I-ever: I drank coffee. Black. At a little diner in Eastern California, I had my first taste of the world’s life fuel. What’s more, I actually liked it. It was plain, bitter, and got my mind rolling much quicker than it normally does in the morning. Haven’t had a sip since, but I’ll consider working it into my routine. Why limit myself? While self-denial can be a differentiator and bolster of strength in some regards, other limitations are just silly.

 

May 2017

4 June 2017

I dog sat this month. The beast was nice–friendly and well-behaved. I couldn’t tell you the breed, but he was some kind of mutt. He was a pleasure to babysit–I enjoyed walking and feeding him and generally having a dependent for the week. But the week was enough. Guilt weighed me down each time I left for work, keeping him caged for eight to ten hours. To compensate, I spent about an hour each evening taking him for walks and giving some TLC. As much as I enjoyed it, my free-time was spent and my couch covered in fur. I really enjoy free-time and a clean apartment, so this state was not sustainable for me. Thus, a realization: I love animals, but I don’t want pets.

 

Just as I live a transient life–moving from place to place–many people come in and out my life. This month, I had a handful of visitors, which gave me the excuse to explore several of the national and state parks. In San Ramon, the Las Trampas Open Space was an idyllic place of rolling green hills and views. Just ten minutes from town, you felt completely remote among the hills. Along the coast, I visited Point Reyes National Seashore and the Sonoma Coast. It was boggling to see rundown ranches along the cliffs of the Pacific, cows grazing before the crashing waves. It was beautiful to see such picturesque landscape left for agriculture instead of wealthy housing. On the east side of the state, I visited the chain of National Parks amidst the granite canyons and giant forests–Yosemite, King’s Canyon, and Sequoia. Yosemite was crowded and remote–requiring a two-hour drive along narrow mountain roads to get to the main tourist area. The granite cliffs were worth it, especially with the rain and fog to add a flavor of mystery. Sequoia and King’s Canyon left me feeling like an insect. The Sequoias were super trees–growing three times larger and older than any other tree. They survive forest fires and droughts and mankind.

 

California is truly America’s Greatest Hits. The source for technology and innovation, film and entertainment, agriculture and natural beauty. It’s a wonderful thing to look at maps of the state and see the eastern half colored green. National Parks and Forests abound, and it’s critical we keep it that way. Not everyone agrees, even in today’s age. National Parks are managed by the U.S. Department of the Interior. National Forests are managed by the U.S. Department of Agriculture. A seemingly trivial piece of information, but a differentiation with potentially dire consequences. National Parks, such as Yosemite, are very difficult to take away, whereas National Forests–such as Stanislaus–are, as so eerily labeled on a roadside sign: “A land of many uses.” There are fewer restrictions on National Forests, so the government has the power to develop, farm, mine, or sell the land as needed. Hetch Hetchy, for instance, was a valley that John Muir found even more beautiful than Yosemite. When the City of San Francisco decided it needed more water, it dammed up the valley to build a reservoir. This could have been built somewhere else–in a less picturesque setting–but they took it in an exhibition of power. The people would never see the valley, so they could care less. Few people even know of Hetch Hetchy, despite it being the source of their livelihoods. But it’s for this reason that we must pay attention to the classification of our parks. While seeing the green half of California may provide a sense of comfort, know that a good portion of that land could be repurposed when the government deems fit. It’s something I keep in mind, especially in the current political climate.

 

April 2017

2 May 2017

I hate ads. At least bad ads–spammy popups, billboards, unwanted phone calls–but I have soft spot for podcast-style commercials. Brief and solicited by the host, they’re actually credible and targeted to me. This blog isn’t sponsored, but here are some endorsements:

 

In my final days of 23, I submitted DNA to 23-and-Me. In fewer than the advertised 6-8 weeks, I learned I’m of 99.8% European descent, lactose-intolerant, blue-eyed, and not a carrier of major disease. At least nothing the tests caught. I highly recommend the service. As the company continues to flesh out their genetic research, more information will be available to patrons of the site. The more contributors, the better the results–so give your body to genetics. To science!

 

I’m not into clothes–I hate shopping and feel more comfortable naked. But I believe every man should have a good suit, myself included. For the past six years, I’ve attended formal events in the mismatched sport-coat and slacks from my high school prom. The pants were getting worn and the coat a bit tight in the shoulders. It was time for an upgrade. Rather than drag myself to a crappy department store and buy a crappy suit, I used Indochino. Applying the discount code from my favorite podcast, I got a custom wool suit for quite a bargain. Charcoal with adjustable sleeves, custom stitching, and an embroidered interior; perfect for any occasion and many moons. All without leaving my door.

 

Jealous of birds? I’ve been there. Bored by planes? Me too. Enjoy dangerous sports with legal ambiguity and unending thrill? Who doesn’t? I’ve wanted to hang glide for many years, and this month I indulged in that dream. After a short drive to Milpitas on weekend mornings, I spent several hours learning the basics of constructing and flying a hang glider. East Bay Hang Gliding offers in-depth lessons on a beautiful California hillside.

 

It was a good month. Now onto May.