Happy Winter Solstice

"Christmas comes but once a year, to every girl and boy."  I can't hear that song without thinking of Pink Floyd, The Wall, even though it is only in the background for a few seconds.
Christmas is great for kids.  I don't remember any individual Christmas or Christmas presents.  What I do remember is anticipating the coming Christmas.  With a decorated tree, presents under it, wood fire in the fireplace, etc.  I'm sure kids today still have that same thrill.  We celebrated the gift-giving part of Christmas on Christmas Eve.  And with the exception of a few trinkets that came in the stockings on Christmas morning, Christmas day was reserved more for going to church, going to relatives house etc.
Approaching old-manhood, things are different.  For weeks now we've been bombarded with ads about what to buy.  As Christmas approaches, even the news is dominated by Christmas presents and the hoards at the mall.  Frankly, it is sad, an abomination as one manager at work said.  What I don't understand is why the season needs to be stressful.  We see people on tv, at work, at the grocery store, agonizing about what to 'get' someone for Christmas.  If it is that hard to find, they probably don't need it.  The last thing most of us need is a sweater we did not pick out for ourselves or, heaven forbid, some crap nick-nack to sit on a shelf and collect dust.  Christmas presents should be reserved for children or the rare occasion where something meaningful can be shared.  By creating an atmosphere of forced participation, the entire thing is cheapened, an annual trading of gift cards.
Frankly, I like Christmas now.  No decorations.  No tree.  No presents.  No music in the background.  No malls.  It is a few extra free days off to relax when work doesn't pile up at the office.  More time for long dog walks.  I used to hate them, but I do like writing and reading the updates that sometimes come in Christmas cards as long as they are interesting and concise; absolutely no more than one page.  I'm not sure my model will work for everyone, but it eliminates the artificial stress that is rampant between Thanksgiving and New Years.
So Merry Christmas.  Or, Happy Solstice - presents are for Christmas, so there is a way out.

Vehicles I've Owned

Vehicles I've owned in approximately chronological order.  Only vehicles with titles and registration in my name.

Four-Wheeled Vehicles:
1969 MG Midget, red, sold to some guy.  Probably the best investment I ever made.  Last I saw it had a bad head gasket but was going to be repaired by the owner.
19?? Chev Chevette, cream, basic high school transportation with possibly the noisiest manual transmission I've ever heard.  Many broken parts, sold to a friend whose family had a salvage yard.
1977 MGB, white, Still have but will probably never run under its own power but I can't get rid of it.
1975 Dodge Dart Swinger, Primer Grey, sold back to the person I bought it from for the same price.
1974/2 MGB, turquoise, Semi-permanent hard top.  Great winter beater B.  Sold to a kid I worked with who crashed it.
19?? Buick k-car.  Brown.  Sold it several times before it actually sold.
19?? Chev S-10.  Probably the most underpowered truck I every owned.  Sold to some guy who wanted to put a V-8 in it.
19?? ??, small Japanese car I only had for a few weeks.  Smoked like crazy on start up.  Sold to some guy who wanted to flip it.
19?? Nissan Truck, white, very old, drum/drum brakes.  Neat looking truck, only had for one year.  Traded in on F-150
19?? Ford F-150, brown.  Had piston knock but I fixed it.  Great college truck.  Bullet-proof 4WD.  Traded in on blue F-150.
1972 MGB, blue.  Bought crashed and rebuilt on a college budget.  Still have.
1994 Ford F-150 4x4, blue.  College graduation present to myself.  Probably my favorite truck.  I crashed it.
19?? Chev C-1500 2x4.  Blue stepside truck.  Liked the way it looked but not much else about it.  Traded it in on the Dakota.
1994 Dodge Dakota 2x4.  Green.  Great truck, traded in on grey F-150.
2002 Ford F-150 4x4.  Grey, OK truck, but had lots of problems with it.  Traded it in on the Tacoma.
1956 MGA.  Green, fun car, but didn't drive it much.  Got it from the guy after building an engine for it.  Sold it to a guy in Austria.
1962 MGB, Iris Blue.  Second owner after being off the road for a long time.  Neat car, but didn't drive it much.  Sold it to a guy in New York.
2009 Toyota Tacoma 4x4.  Blue, decent truck, basic 4x4, but nothing more.


Two-wheeled vehicles:
19?? Yamaha Chappy. Yellow, registered as a moped, drove at age of 15.  Gave to friend after turned 16.
1976 Honda CJ360T. Red, First real bike.  Great fun, wrecked and gave to a guy when I moved after college.  It was put back on the road.
1997 Harley Sportster Sport.  Black, good fun bike.  Traded it in on the Dyna to do more long riding.
2001 Harley Dyna Superglide T-Sport, Grey, then blue after crashing into deer.  Good touring bike.  Traded in on electraglide.
2004 Harley Electraglide Classic.  Blue, great bike but a bit slow.  Sold to a guy after posting at work.
2005 Honda VFR800.  Red, fun bike, always going fast.  Traded in on the ST1300.
2006 Honda ST1300.  Black, awesome bike.  Love it.  Still have it.
2007 Honda Goldwing.  Blue, great 2-up touring bike.  Love it.  Still have it.

GnR

They announced that Guns & Roses will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame next year.
I was 16 or 17 when GnR busted through the sod out of a dank hole somewhere and onto the MTV scene.  My friend Larry, who was more into music than I was, saw their video and said how awesome it was.  We watched MTV at his house until it came on.  I always liked metal music, but was never really into it.  GnR changed that.  I bought Appetite for Destruction as a cassette and almost wore it out.  I don't know how many plastic cases I broke as they slid around in my car with a copy of that in the tape deck.  Axl and Slash were awesome.  There was a lip sync contest at school that year (a private Christian school) and a bunch of guys did Welcome to the Jungle (with one guy doing nothing but holding a GnR banner - odd).  It was allowed by the "censors" but apparently there were discussions afterwords that it was inappropriate.  Appetite was unapologetically sex, drugs and rock and roll with not even the thinnest veil.
GnR Lies came out about a year later, although it felt a lot longer.  I bought the cassette at a local record store the first day it was out and almost wore that cassette out too.  One side electric, the other acoustic.  The songs were funny, irreverent.  Appetite was still played a lot.  After GnR Lies, there was a big dry spell.  I bought a vinyl bootlegged LP of some of their early music, with a naked lady on the cover of it.  Some of their music on it I've never heard anywhere else.  I still have it, but no way to play it.  I still own the cassettes of Appetite and Lies, but only have the CD of Appetite.  Several of their songs are on my MP3 player and phone as well.
I had a GnR poster in my room.  The band ssitting there and a couple bottles of booze.  If there was any doubt about whether Rock could be a bad influence, I'm sure I drank Jim Beam and Jack Daniels because the band was frequently seen with them.  In reality, that only influenced what I drank, not if or when.
My first year in college, Use your Illusion I & II came out.  I dutifully bought them.  There was some OK stuff on them, but I doubt I've listened to the entire cassettes more than a handful of times.  It was lacking the rawness of the real stuff.  Chinese Democracy was a tragedy.  I'm not sure if it was meant to be a political statement or not, but it shouldn't have been, on at least two levels (at least).
When I heard GnR was going to be in the Hall of Fame, I felt a little old, and wondered if Slash and Axl would get back together for a reunion, but I really didn't care.  The other day I watched the Welcome to the Jungle video on youtube; it is still pretty cool.  I also grabbed my Appetite CD and listened to it front to back for the fist time in a long while.  This time, I was listening with 40 year old ears, not 16 and while sitting at my desk at the Fortune 500, something impossible to contemplate to 16 year old ears.  I still like the music and know all the words, but there is no doubt I've changed along with my overall music tastes.  The classic rock stations I listen to now routinely play Guns & Roses.  And in reality, with only one member still in the band, it is more of a brand than a band.  I guess we've all gotten older in the 20 years it takes to get into the Hall of Fame.

Occupy X

Back to the Occupy (insert place) movement.
The Occupy X movement has been plagued by a lack of meaning.  Protesting has become a fashionable badge that people like to wear at a certain age, mostly since the 60s.  It didn't change anything then, and it won't now.  Older adults often participate in the desperate hope that they really aren't older, and because it was fun when in college.
The overall direction of the protesting appears to be about inequality.  This seems noble; a peasant revolt against the kings; the proletariat against the oligarchy.  The problem is, that is exactly what it is.  Inequality has always exist, and will always.  Inequality is what allows each one of use to strive to improve, to better the self in some way.  It is unfortunate that there isn't a clear message as that might allow some root to take hold and have a real, albeit small effect.  The revolution started by Ross Perot played a real role nationwide for a few years.  It was not as held back by youthful idealism and poverty as the Occupy X movement, but eventually did itself in.  Jesse Ventura brought it screaming front and center, and then let it die as the idealism collided with reality.  Occupy X will probably host a few candidates in 2012 for office.  Few will be elected and reality will affect the rest in a predictable manner.  Witness the Tea Party.
The bigger issue is that most of us are in the center.  We aren't 99% vs 1%.  We aren't red vs. blue.  We are the middle two purple standard deviations.  We are going to work, paying taxes, walking dogs, raising kids (some of us) and voting.  Occasionally we do join the national conversation by joining together in meaningful ways to make a difference in something we believe in, then this is labeled as "special interest."  But, I'm digressing into a future blog.  The point is, there are two ways to influence the system.  Money and violence.  Money works, and violence is thankfully usually quashed by money (in this Country - mostly) at the same time the means marginalizes the message.  Since Occupy X doesn't have money, violence is the unavoidable option if they really do want to have an effect.
There was the case recently of the police officer using pepper spray against Occupy X protesters (somewhere) in California.  Pepper spray is a tool that should be used against people who are actively resisting.  The protesters were passively resisting.  However, once the police give the order to leave, there are two options, and only two.  One, follow the order and hopefully find a way to get arrested in the process (Occupy X thinks the courts are a good venue for free speech).  Two, the police force the order.  If they don't, then the police orders in general will only be suggestions, and the situation will escalate.  The policeman in question should not have used pepper spray, and he certainly appeared to enjoy it.  But, once the order was ignored, it had to be enforced.  The police would have been just as demonized if they had forcefully ripped the protesters apart and paddy-wagoned them off to jail.  It was a no win situation.  No sympathy for the protesters, they got their voice.  Sympathy for the police?  Not really, but they had no choice.
So where does this leave us?  I guess money is still driving the system.  Unless Lenin was right, it is the past, present and (slightly depressing?  or less idealistic?) future.

The Oven

It is Thanksgiving.
The first Thanksgiving after graduation from college and getting a job related to my degree was spent going home, meaning not home.
The next year, was the first after buying our house.  When we moved in, the house had a stove/double oven.  The lower oven was very large and the upper was a small "bun" oven.  The bun oven is all we used.  It was enough to fit a small sheet pan, but not much else.  The only element in it was an upper element, that was missing some support so it hung very low.  Putting anything in it of any height at all was not really possible.  That first year in the house, we got a fresh (not frozen) bird from a local meat market.  They don't sell small fresh birds so it was a ridiculous size for two people.  The day before Thanksgiving, I tried the larger lower oven for the first time.  It did not work.  The problem was traced to a faulty regulator.  The oven was antiquated at best, and really beyond useful life, but I was able to find a used regulator at a junk shop in a nearby city - in a very bad part of town.  After securing the part on a rainy evening, the oven was fixed and turkey roasted the next day.  As I recall, it was excellent.
The next year there was another fresh bird.  However, the "new" regulator had only been used a few times and failed "on" this time.  Regulation of the heat was done manually, turning the oven on and off and paying attention to the small removable oven thermometer.  I believe that was the last time the larger oven was used.  Although those fresh birds were wonderful, common sense has prevailed and the foul has gotten smaller, including chickens and capons for Thanksgiving and Christmas.
That kitchen had originally been a porch at one time.  It felt fitting that it had very close nap carpet when we moved in, and actually appeared to be indoor/outdoor carpeting.  There were holes and stains in it, like other places in the house.  Not too long after moving in, that was replaced by linoleum - an improvement, and the final home improvement before moving was its replacement again.
As that stove/oven was beyond useful life when we moved it, it was surprising how long we used it.  The little bun oven worked for may years.  One stove burner quit working at some point, and the appliance was replaced at the same time as the fridge (with mismatched doors that came with a dog...).  The oven and fridge were unceremoniously dropped (legally) behind a big box store on the purchase of a new and basic oven and fridge.  So the ovens have gotten bigger and better over the years.  The birds have gotten smaller.  We gladly pay more for a smaller bird, despite how good those fresh birds were.  There is often nostalgia for a poor car owned early in life.  It seems like there should be something similar for that appliance, but there really isn't.  On this holiday (Thanksgiving after all) perhaps happiness should be derived from better things but probably not from things at all.  There is only minor nostalgia for the past, or any kind of acknowledgement that the stove in this new house is really better.  Which in itself is probably something to be thankful for.
As this ends, I'm ready to put a turkey in the oven.  A sub-10# bird in a working oven, not significantly different from where I was 15 years ago.

Moving on

I already missed a week of writing.  My intentions last week were to write about the "Occupy Wall Street" hoora going on.  I couldn't.  The closing on the house was on Friday (Oct 28) and it took over my brain for the weekend.  Since the closing, it has slowly become real that the old house is sold.

The house went on the market in very early January.  I knew the market was tough but had visions of several people coming through the house since it was new on the market.  Then, the Realtor had the first open house.  No one showed.  My only thought was, has this been a mistake?  There were no showings at all in January.  A couple people did eventually come through the house and the Realtor kept persisting in putting on open houses, but the people looking at the house were very sparse.  Most of the feedback on the house was pretty positive, but there was no real interest.  A painful winter moved into a painful spring as winter ice changed to flooding rains (read wet basement).  It became obvious at some point, that the price was optimistic (I assumed it was from the beginning).  After a more significant price drop than the Realtor wanted, activity did pick up.  At the same time, maintaining two houses during the busy spring was a drag.  By mid summer, there was pretty real interest from three groups.  This was a false hope as they dropped out due to inability to buy during a potential divorce, or inability to get financing in any form under current conditions.  The most hopeful people were a husband and wife looking to buy for her daughter.  However, family spats prevented that from going forward.  The house was back at ground zero.  The day the last group lost interest, was a low day.
Towards the end of the summer, a new couple wanted to see the house, and then came back to see it again.  Eventually they put in an offer.  Her parents lived down the street (across from the bar in the old Feed & Seed building).  The offer may not have been as high as was ideal, but given the market, the offer was accepted.  They were getting a USDA loan, which seemed like a small deal.  Given that anything can come up with a 120-year old house, it was a major relief to get through the housing inspection, followed by the appraisal and then septic inspection.  All was looking good.  Then the deal went into a seemingly never ending series of questions and updates - many surrounding issues of the house being in a flood zone.  As an aside, the regulations are clear; although the property is partially in a flood zone, the house is not and the extra burden for purchase as well as the buyers flood insurance is not needed (I'm convinced after reading reams of documents on FEMA's  and USDA's web page).  The final hurdle was the requirement to raise the water heater four inches (due to flood issues - hard to believe four inches can mean sale or no-sale to the USDA).  The buyer helped with this.  However, bank approval still dragged on several more weeks.  Finally closing, which in the end went of well.  It also turned out that the buyers had been anticipating things moving smoother, and were living in one room in their parent house, so they were pretty anxious as well.

After all this, I'm really glad it worked out and hope the buyers are happy.  There are and were cheaper houses on the market (all foreclosures) but being in a rural area, there weren't as many as were in a busier area which was an advantage.  In reality, the house was a reasonably good deal though.  Long term, it could work out really well.  While the math suggests lots of the improvements were probably not worth it, there are no regrets.  Towards the end, it was hard to be positive as all I could see in the house were the flaws.  It at times felt like the actual purchase process happened on autopilot, with neither buyer or seller really in control anymore.  I didn't like being mad at the house after living there 15 years.  The were many low days, but also those bright summer days when the house showed more realistically that it was a nice place, especially compared to some of the ill-treated foreclosures.

During a "final" cleanout of the house (it was only 1 month into the actual 3-month contract period), there were a lot of memory flashes to what it was like to move in there originally.  It was as close to a rural setting as was possible, the huge back yard, the big imposing oil furnace and the little garage work shop...  Over time, the memories of the sale will soften.  I like the new house more, but the old house WAS home for 15 years.  I do hope the buyer's move yields similar emotions; the excitement of a first house, any house, should not be lost.

Final thoughts may come later.  For now, it feels like a mental weight has been lifted.  I enjoy the new house more now than ever.  Occupy Wal........  Who cares, it is sunny here at home.

Uncles and Aunts

My Dad came down this weekend.  Just for an overnight which is a good amount of time to have people in the house.
It seems like growing up, we saw our Aunts and Uncles a lot.  Both my parents came from fairly large families so there was no shortage of Aunts, Uncles and (most definitely) cousins.  I remember being young and knowing that they were family.  But it wasn't until I got older that I realized that they actually were my parent's brothers and sisters, and that when my parents grew up, my Uncles and Aunts grew up with them as my siblings were with me.  This means all the fights, and unfairness I saw, they probably saw as well.  It seems there are lots of people now, who hold some of the fights a little too real now in the form of sibling rivalries as adults - or some close facsimile of adulthood.  Our family is not at all close, so this seems rather silly, or maybe quaint, but certainly a waste of time.  Looking back, I wonder how much those sibling rivalries played a role for my parents, since the family was a lot closer then?  I can only guess, and I really don't want to know, but it is interesting to look back on those years and think of "those people" as not my Uncles and Aunts, but as my parent's brothers and sisters.
It was nice to have the visit, but also nice to have the rest of the weekend as normal.

The Alias

I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this under an alias.  I doubt anyone will read it and since Facebook has taught us that our lives are really truly boring with only brief exceptions, even people I know would likely not read it.  There are still things that will be off-limits, but I guess there are less things when it is under an alias and no one will read it.
There was an abandoned house near where Chad H lived when I was in junior high.  It was the initiation point for a lot of mischief and malfeasance.  This was in the days when a bike was a 10-speed and before beer came into our lives.  Looking back through the haze of 25 years, I remember it being a complete house that was run down with broken windows, doors and bashed in walls but still sound.  Likely it wasn't.  I also recall the remains of a silo and foundation for a barn.  In reality, it was probably pretty dangerous and was a house that had been trashed by tenants or the like, maybe even foreclosed on.  Mail was pretty stuff in a lot of crevices in the house and the last occupants had the last name of Horton.  Ted Horton became my alias on the few times we got caught doing something we shouldn't be doing.
On one occasion, Chad and I were in a wild area near Calvin College (clue as to who I am - geographically at least).  As was usual, we had our BB guns and I recall we were discussing whether we should shoot a ground hog.  College students doing some kind of outdoor project were none too amused and said we should never be seen there with the guns again.  Weeks later, we were there again...with BB guns.  We hid them before we were caught, but the jig was up.  Chad went back to the hiding spot and brought my gun back and handed it over to a student, who turned it over to a college professor.  Now, how to get a gun back, when my parents need to call and they don't know I have a BB gun (and would NOT have approved).  Well, call in as Ted Horton's dad and talk to the professor.  To this day, I absolutely can not believe this worked.  As Ted Horton's dad, I suggested Ted be forced to go to the professor so the professor could have a talk about the implications.  I did, had a talk with the professor about wildlife and appropriate behavior and such; he gave me my gun back.  A year or so later, this same professor gave a talk at our school.  The teacher doing the introduction mentioned this episode and my name.  Mortified, I thought it was over.  In reality, lesson learned and also likely a lesson for the College Professor that an early teen age kid could have pulled off such an obvious stunt.
I don't remember if I threw the gun away last year when I moved or not?  I had cut the barrel down and installed a hand grip at some point, rendering it pretty useless.  Too bad really.
So that is who I am.  Ted Horton.  Living in an abandoned house somewhere near Calvin College.

Holding my breath

I said I was going to create a blog when the old house sold.  It seems like I've been holding my breath for 10 months (or at least the last two) waiting for the house to sell.  Because things started happening about the time I would have gone on vacation (planning to go out west on the bike), even that was put off.  At this point, it is likely not going to happen.  So, in an attempt to get back into the land of the living, I'm at least going to TRY to write approximately once a week.  We'll see how long this lasts....
All I can say at this point, is that the house-selling process is much more painful than buying.  Maintaining two houses is a drag.  And, if I had it to do over, I still would have moved!
So, I'll continue to be frustrated by the selling process, the housing market, the economy.  I'll continue to enjoy the new house (wheat was just planted in the back 7 acres).  I'll continue to realize how fortunate I was and am to be able to make this move and live here.  I'll also keep holding my breath.