June 28th, 2011

 

I’ve developed this habit of searching for life lessons. It seems to be useful when little nuggets of wisdom can be extracted, but sometimes I grasp and grasp and still end up with nothing good.

 

I’ve also found that there are a few of you smart folks out there that engage with me through these writings. So I guess I’m turning to you. Help me, please.

 

You all know my living set up by now. Well since last week, the highway right outside my place has been under construction. Except, it’s only during the hours of 2am-4am. Really.

 

And this isn’t your regular run-of-the-mill road work either. I’m talking 6 trucks and 3 concrete saws cutting lines in the highway. I’m not even sure the purpose. Now I realize that reading this doesn’t do any justice, but I have taken a  video if that would be worth uploading. It is absurdly loud. Concrete saws already have the highest shrill, but three of them going straight for 2-3 hours is just plain awful. Even with earplugs and music playing, it can still be heard. Truly, it’s that loud.

 

Slumber with a key won’t help me here. There is likely no relief. Just grit those teeth and bear it. That, and let my eardrums bleed. So what do you do what interruption looms? I can expect that from 2am-4am, I will be awoken and sleep will be unavailable. Judging from their slow pace, it’ll be a at least another week of this… The anticipation alone is enough to damn near kill a man.

 

 

Perhaps life is just randomly rewarding and randomly penalizing. I don’t know. But I’d at least like to try to get something out of these paragraphs of life. Thanks ahead of time for your thoughts and wisdom.

 

The above image is a snap I shot while in Colombia. Perhaps going shoeless is their way of being a bit more discreet in roadside maintenance.

 

June 22nd, 2011

 

My grandpa was born in 1927. His first job was a shoe shine boy, making a nickel for polishing shoes of the old timers sitting at the bar. That’s right, little kids were allowed in bars, so long as they were shining shoes or some other very important public service.

 

His second job was as a newsboy. I can’t make this stuff up. As the son of Sicilian immigrants, this kid had to really reach for the stars. So he slang newspapers on the south side of Chicago.

 

The real step up though, was when my gramps hit high school and landed a job at the local bowling alley. Yup, he become a pinsetter.

 

Being a pin boy back in those days was actually a glamorous job. He was granted free bowling and a big ole nickel for every game he set. A game cost 15 cents, so the house cleared 10 cents per game.  But apparently those 5 cent pieces add up fast. He learned the skills necessary to quickly drop the pins and also the agility to avoid getting splattered by errant pins and bowling balls. And from his stories, it sounds like quite the task.

 

It got me wondering though, about the jobs we do today and all the special training and learning we put into these jobs. A lot of effort goes into what we end up spending 8 hours a day (or more) doing. And remember, that ends up being 2000 hours a year.

 

If you’re doing what you love, then I guess it doesn’t matter. But if not, are you investing your energy, time, and passion into a job that will one day be a relic of a time long forgotten? Sure, dodging bowling pins and bowling balls makes for a good story, but I’m not so sure I want to be a pin setter.

 

 

June 17th, 2011

 

It’s that wedding season again, and I’ve found myself as the best man in two weddings. Always a best man, never a groom. But that’s not the reason for this post… there really isn’t a deep reason for this post. And I’m not selling anything. I’m just showing a little project I’ve been working on.

My brother is getting married in August and I wanted to make him something particularly special and unique. So I came up with an idea for a kit. This kit is now known as the ‘bare necessities for the everyman’. (If you can think of a more creative name, I’ll happily consider it)

 

The idea is that each kit I make is based on the interests of the specific person, but the items being useful for damn near any one. For my brother, he really wants to try a good scotch. And that hatchet was actually my father’s hatchet and now that my brother just had a son, it seems fitting he pass it down. The knife is an old stiletto (knives are important for life of course). It gets me thinking though, about the bare necessities and how we define ourselves based on what we need (and what we think we need).

 

My no-shampoo for 150 days post received a bit of attention recently (thanks to reddit!). As you can tell, I’m developing this theme of questioning needs and wants. It’s not just for minimalists. Consumerism is a drug, so it doesn’t hurt to detox once in a while.

 

Of course, giving a gift like this serves very little practical purpose. I’m not even sure I’d want one. But it’s a fun gift to make, and it will be a fun gift to give. He isn’t getting married until late August, so I am banking on him not reading my blog.

 

My girlfriend was inspired by this, so we made one for her uncle. He has been a bit down since his father just passed, so we wanted to cheer him up. Since he loves literature (former English teacher for forever), music (harmonica), and good whiskey (Makers Mark), we made him the second Bare Necessities for the Everyman kit below.

 

 

 

 

 

June 13th, 2011

Unconventional living is foundational to the (almost) bohemian lifestyle. I previously mentioned that I built a studio and loft inside a warehouse so this is a bit of a follow up for those interested in the benefits of warehouse living.

 

The dream of most urban artists and bohemians is the warehouse loft studio. I’ve lived in a few cities around the world and every time, the desire for a huge unconventional living space grows within me. So in San Diego, I’ve managed to create that arrangement.

 

The warehouse is located in a light-industrial part of town, just east of downtown San Diego. The neighborhood is called ‘Barrio Logan’ and you may have seen it featured on The History Channel’s Gangland. The neighborhood isn’t as rough as it’s reputation, or at least not in my experience. If anything, I’ve made some fascinating friends living here.

 

So the nine benefits of living in a warehouse:

Cheap Rent: The warehouse I rent is $1400/month. But since it is a 1500+ square foot place with a huge outdoor space and gated yard, arrangements can be made to make the rent cheaper. I currently live/ work in about 500 sq ft of space. The rest is used by a friend of mine who builds and shapes surfboards. He also uses the space for paintings. He doesn’t live there, so I have my own run of the place. My portion of the rent is $500/month.

Piles of Space: That’s right. With 1500+ sq feet of space, 10+ ft ceilings, a huge outdoor area and gate access, there is no shortage of space. I even built a 12′x9′ shed for my motorcycles out back. If you really want rent to be cheap, then split it up with a group of passionate, artistic, creative, bohemian friends.

Freedom: How many places can you really do whatever you want? Remember that desire to own a bunch of goats and chickens? Well who’s going to know when you’ve got a warehouse? You want a sunroof? Cut a hole in the ceiling. Two shower heads? No problem. An extra room? Office? Check check. We truly have done what ever we want. Sure it may take a bit of creativity or some learning, but I assure you building isn’t as complicated as folks would want you to believe. I put in a huge oversized front door so my motorcycles can wheel in with ease. No one taught me how to do it. With a bit of google research, a few phone calls to some people in the know, and a trip to Home Depot and suddenly you’re looking at a staircase that can hold six elephants. Don’t let anyone tell you it can’t be done.

Neighbors: If you even end up having neighbors, they will likely be some of the most colorful and dynamic folks you’ll meet. Who else chooses to live in an industrial side of town? My neighbors are some guys who live/work in the salvage yard next door. I also have some welders nearby and some quirky architects too. Sprinkled in the mix are your low income families with charming little kids. In a situation like this, you’re able to have your friend’s terrible ’90s rock band come put on a show and not a single complaint will come your way.

Impress Pretty Girls: Okay, in my situation it’s just one. But still, I like to think it was the warehouse that did it.

You’re Immediately an Artist: That’s right. Just by living in a warehouse, you automatically qualify for artist status. So toss some paint on a wall, get out that marble, chisel and hammer, or get your gypsy-folk band together. When you build your own living space, cut port-hole windows in the bathroom wall, and have custom built stadium seating for your projector theater set up, well then my friends- you are an artist. Now go create.

 

Okay, well that wasn’t quite nine benefits. I’m sure there are plenty more, but this gives an accurate idea of why living in a warehouse is beneficial to life and creativity. So when someone tells you they live in a warehouse in a neighborhood that you don’t quite think is up to par, well remember this post. Believe it, warehouse living is actually even better than you think. Drop me a line and come visit. I’ll be here til the end of the year.

 

June 7th, 2011

 

 

A few months back I reported on the quest I’ve undertaken to live a shampoo-less life. Well, it has been 150 days. Actually just over 150 days (I started January 4th, 2011).

I had previously read a number of articles that indicated the benefits of a poo free life. So being the forever-life-experimenter, I jumped head first into a shampoo free lifestyle.

Now understand, my hair is (was) always naturally damn oily. I could lather up and be looking pretty and by the end of the day I had the look of a pre-teen working the grease pit at a fast food joint. Bah, life isn’t fair.

So truly, I had nothing to lose. And now I can report to you all 150 days later, my hair hasn’t touched a drop of shampoo or soap. And it has never looked healthier. Now mind you, I do wash my hair thoroughly with hot water damn near every day in the shower. But no shampoo. It just isn’t necessary.

Understand that this has taken a bit of discipline. The first two weeks or so was spent wearing a lot of hats and hiding the grease mop that my hair had become. But then something clicked and my hair began cleaning itself. It no longer looked greasy and it actually smelled neutral. The best way for me to explain this is to have you smell your skin. Does it smell like anything? I mean right now, smell your forearm. That’s how my hair smells.

 

It’s been so successful that I’ve had a number of friends convert to the ‘poo free life. Even my beautiful yogi girlfriend uses less shampoo,  though she’s found that it’s closer to once or twice a month for her. Something about a lot of long, thick hair may be the difference, I don’t know.

 

But I can report on my behalf. It works. I’ve gone to bonfires and then just washed my hair that night in the shower, using lots of hot water. Always fresh, always clean.

 

I encourage you to give it a try. What’s the worst that happens? You end up hating my advice and walking around with dreadlocks. Worse things will happen to you.

 

But what will probably happen is that you may start to consider to question all the silly things you’ve been taught you whole life. Yes, even shampoo has been sold to us. We’ve bought the idea and culture of ‘clean’ hair, but it turns out mother nature already takes care of it for us.

 

Hot water and a good head rub and scrub can go a long way.