(or Every Day is Monday)

September 20th, 2011

 

 

I meant to fire this post off yesterday, but now that I’m fully retired and every day is a Monday, well today is just as good for me.

Okay, I’m not going to let my brain melt with inactivity or the mindless musings of a (very privileged) retired 26 year old. Sure I’ve worked hard for this day, saving intensely, living frugally, etc but let’s be real here: this is the culmination of all of human history- generations working jobs they hated- so that one day we could have it easy.

 

Well Monday was that day for me.

 

My old man tells me I have too much enthusiasm to fall. So with that, I’m off to live my life on my own terms. This life bohemian has long been in motion, but today (or rather yesterday) marks a significant shift for me, almost 2 years in the making.

 

Don’t let anyone tell you it isn’t possible.

 

When the question is asked, “so what do you do?’ I simply respond, ‘I’m retired’.

A more elaborate answer? My career is now my life.

 

So here we are. The next few months will be spent here in the states working on assorted projects and life interests. Then, it’s off to international lands for an indefinite spell. This is going to be good.

 

 

September 13th, 2o11

 

 

So here are the complete pieces to my 1947 CZ motorcycle. Everything you need to have a motorcycle is right there, albeit in pieces. I’ve been slowly working on this project for a while now, but now it’s high time for me to knock it out. I’ve taken everything apart and thoroughly cleaned, re-painted, and re-finished every piece with the soft gingerly touch that is often only reserved for cradling a baby.

 

My old man used to tell me if you’re going to do something, you may as well do it right the first time. I hated this advice as a kid, but over the years have come to appreciate the benefits of not cutting corners. Taking the time to analyze every part, every curve, and every nick can be overwhelming. I get this itching in my bones to scrap the whole thing and toss it back together. But then I re-settle myself and find the place to focus, appreciating every part for it’s unique purpose.

 

It’s easy to tear something apart, but putting it back together is where the value comes in. Do it right the first time; take the time to care for it in pieces.

(or Recognizing Your Paige Compositor)

September 2nd, 2011

 

In the 1880s there lived an inventor.  He created a typesetting machine that was believed to revolutionize the printing industry. Think Apple Computers of the 1980s. Yeah, potentially big stuff.  And the most popular writer of the time, Mark Twain, became the primary investor in this endeavor. Twain poured over $300,000 into the project. That’s a chunk of coin nowadays, but back by today’s equivalent that’s closer to $5.5 million dollars.

 

You’ve never heard of the Paige Compositor for good reason. It failed. But it didn’t fail quickly. It took years of cradling that baby to the grave, all the while Mark Twain ground down his last dollars with this investment. He even lost his wife’s inheritance over this.

 

Mark Twain is one of my favorite people of history, and arguably, my favorite author. He was a wise and witty man. But the Paige Compositor was attributed to his financial troubles and the subsequent loss of his wit and humor.

 

He didn’t know when to quit. 

 

Today I quit my job. Well, more accurately I’ve given my two weeks notice. So on 5pm September 16th, 2011 I will be without traditional employment. I cut the strings. I’ve got plans for long term travel.

 

Don’t worry, I won’t be selling eBooks or consulting services. I write here because I want to document my progress and thoughts in life. I am more interested in leaving an interesting legacy for my future kids and grandkids one day than trying to make money on a blog. I hope you enjoy this new chapter of my life with me.