Old dogs and new tricks

 Me, performing a new trick.  NOT!

Last Friday evening while we were out for our weekly date night K asked if we could stop by Target on our way home....she said she needed some shampoo.  I asked her why she hadn't told me this sooner as I had just gone to the store that day and done our weekly shopping.  She said it was because she didn't know what kind of shampoo she wanted.  She chooses a different one every week, and she doesn't know the weekly winner until she peruses the shelf.

She does this on every occasion, in every category.  When we go out to a favorite restaurant, for example, she gets something different every time.  And 4 times out of 5 she's disappointed.  She always says on our way out, "I should have had what you had."  She calls me a "stick in the mud" because when I find something I like, I stick with it.  She's right.  That's why I'm not disappointed 4 times out of 5.  She says I'm in a rut.

My shampoo is Suave for Men....always.
My soap is Irish Spring....always.
My deodorant is Arrid....always.
My toilet paper is Charmin....always.

My pizza always has the same toppings.
My entree is the same each visit at a favorite restaurant. 

My steak is always a fillet, medium rare.
My chicken is always a breast.
My bacon is always crisp.
My scotch is always Glenfiddich.
My beer is always Dos Equis. 
My coffee is always FourBucks....er....Starbucks.
My soft drink is always Coke. 
My water comes out of the shower head in the bathroom.

My t-shirts and shorts are from LL Bean.  They fit, they last, and they aren't expensive.
My heavy coat came from LL Bean, too.  Lighter ones come from REI.
My dress clothes (such as they are) come from Men's Wearhouse.
My jeans are Wrangler.
My underwear is Jockey.
My shoes are Sperry, Merrill, or Asics.

My watch is a cheap solar powered Casio G-Shock because my expensive watch (which now resides in a drawer) kept eating batteries.  I am maintenance intolerant.

My cars are foreign.
My trucks (back when I had a truck) were Fords.
My lawnmower is a....Hahaha!

My firearms are Beretta, H&K, or Benelli.
My ammo is Federal.
My shells are Winchester.

My airline is Southwest.
My TV is Samsung.
My computer and phone are Apple.
My pets are dogs.
My sport is football (college), followed by its English cousin, rugby.
My music is smooth jazz or oldie goldies.
I prefer reading to TV.

My political party died years ago.  (I'm still in mourning.)
As did my favorite politicians.  (Teddy Roosevelt & Winston Churchill)
My positions are constantly morphing.  (Notice I avoided the word "change"  :)

For the record, I have been tempted by trusted friends to branch out and try new things, and occasionally the "new" thing becomes my comfortable standard.  (There ARE a few off/on-ramps in my rut!)

I'm fond of indoor plumbing, electricity, motorized transport, and regular meals.  
Autumn, winter, and spring are my friends.  Summer is my enemy.  
I don't like mean, narcissistic, loud people.
I don't like big crowds. 
I don't like biting my tongue.  It hurts, so I don't do it. 

If it isn't broken, I don't fix it.

Life is good.  :)

S

Time to hang it up....

With my 62nd birthday just a couple of weeks away, I've come to the conclusion that now is probably the right time to retire, or at least semi-retire.  While of course things have changed considerably over the past 40 years, the change that my industry has gone through has been especially dramatic, and not in a good way. 

I used to thoroughly enjoy designing new homes, or more correctly, working alongside the architects (they "drew", I "tweaked"), then turning those 2-dimensional blueprints into someone's "dream home".  I loved figuring out how to put 'em together, visualizing the 3-D geometry needed to get all the parts to fit together right.  And there's really nothing like the sense of satisfaction you get driving down a street where you built years ago and saying to yourself, "I built that one, and that one, and that one, too", waving at the people working in their yards, recognizing some, but knowing others had passed along your creation to other families for them to enjoy.

But back then you had a minimal amount of paperwork, customers were more trusting, a handshake meant something, your competitors were by-and-large honorable people, and the bankers had yet to go over to The Dark Side.  Because I dealt with them fairly and paid well and on time, the best craftsmen actually wanted to work for me.  Going to work every day was a very pleasant experience.

But then some shady types invaded our ranks causing people to look at us all as borderline crooks, which I resented greatly.  Standardized contracts went from 1 page in 1972 to nearly 30 pages today.  Workman's Comp, liability insurance, audits, waivers, EPA, OSHA, storm water/erosion control....the BS just never ends!  Today actually building the home is the easy part.  It's everything else that has become the albatross around my neck.

Since the economic meltdown of 2008 my industry has gone over a cliff and will probably never fully recover.  Regardless of who wins the November elections, our political system is corrupt and dysfunctional.  The money interest's have hijacked our country, and because they own the rule makers, they have an unlimited supply of "Get out of jail free" cards. They have things rigged and can get away with darn near anything.  It's play by their rules, or don't play at all.  The risks I would have to take if I were to soldier on are simply not worth the modest rewards I might realize.

My brother / business partner wants to keep pushing on, and of course I'll help him get through the technical parts of construction on a consulting basis, hence the "semi-retired" status.  But for me, I'm tired of beating my head against the wall.  This isn't exactly the way I wanted to see my career curtain come down, but I can accept it and be happy.  I'm sure I'll work or volunteer somewhere as I'm afraid I'd be a lousy rocker and probably an even worse whittler.  ;)

Cheers!

S