The sale of our big country house has opened the planned transition to a life of sailing alternating with city life. The country home was clearly one mode too many, and was driving us a bit batty. Oh, yes, we did love the place, and some tears were shed after the closing. The memories are to be cherished, but, bottom line: It was just getting in the way of more important things we wanted to experience.

We got a sailboat about three and a half years ago, and while we’ve taken good care of her, we haven’t fulfilled her potential. The same could be said of the big country house, in that it was a home for aviators, with a hangar, and runway, and a community of like-minded fliers. I’ve loved having a plane, but when I was working I never seemed to have time to plan trips. And after retirement, well, we got a sailboat and we were just spread too thin.

The city place, up in NC, we’ve had for much longer than the boat, but when I moved my career to coastal Georgia, it had settled into a role of hosting family gatherings. It mostly served as a weekend getaway from Georgia’s heat. We didn’t really “live” there, we just popped in and out, or loaned the use of it to the kids or to our friends. Our city place served us the way some people’s beach houses serve them; like a bed and breakfast that happens to have a few drawers with your socks and jammies waiting for you, right there!

So, what’s to come? An emphasis on boat life, which entails a regimen of day and weekend sailing to burnish our skills and learn new ones. And, too, sweat equity in the boat’s systems and solidity, which are already quite good. However, if you know sailboats, they’re never entirely “finished”, and the project lists are unending. When she (and we) are ready, and as the pandemic becomes controlled, we will journey in her to the islands!

The city place will see more use, too. When the boat gets too small, or if one or both of us needs a rest, we will retreat to Charlotte and the apartment. After COVID vaccines are commonplace, we will gather there with our kids and friends, and celebrate life’s diversity. There are seasons that suit boating better; winter into spring. And city life in NC makes more sense in summer and fall than cruising the islands in hurricane season.

I think we’ve found a better balance with these changes. Not a bad plan, eh?

How big a job?

How hard is it to downsize? And what can help you get through it?

After a month of merging the contents of our now-sold house in Georgia into our already-furnished condo in Charlotte, NC, I can report that it is possible, but not easy. Questions arise, like, dear God in heaven, do I REALLY possess 30-plus tee shirts, dating as far back as 1976? Or, ok, I remember buying one recliner, but how did we ever end up with FOUR? And, What does it say about us that we possess no fewer than eleven devices intended to open a wine bottle? …Although, admittedly, those did see a lot of use over the past four weeks.

It’s worth noting, too, that this wasn’t just the contents of a 3300 square foot house that needed shifting. It was also the accumulated stuff you might gather over 25 years in a 2500 square foot hangar. Two riding mowers, three work benches, four bicycles, rakes, shovels, implements of destruction, automotive tools, old batteries, cinder blocks, lumber, plumbing supplies, and on, and on…

Yes, it was a gargantuan task, but what did we learn?

What’s the take-away?

Well, for one, emotional attachments to “stuff” are pretty much toxic. While I do love the sentimental rush I get by going through old drawers and bookcases, it bears reflection that those old mementos have been marinating for decades in darkness. And only now to elicit that murmured “aww”. After trashing about three cubic feet of fuzzy photos of inexplicable locales and strangers, I felt light as a feather. Likewise for a closet full of old theater tickets, gimme hats, business cards, and mix tapes.

For another, no human being should ever have a favorite pillow, towel, or pair of sneakers. Such objects, if so favored, have undoubtedly worn out long before the bond was formed. And, oh, by the way: Take a look around, and you’ll realize that you possess no fewer than six pairs of worn sneakers, another four of bedroom slippers, and two of hiking boots, alongside a linen closet with dozens of towels, and a gaggle of lovely new-ish pillows. It’s time for change! Out with the old, in with the new!

Finally, what’s the most important thing?

The Lesson!

It’s this:

Giving things away is much more satisfying than boxing, shifting, and keeping them.

I had an old piano; an upright Baldwin from the 1930’s, with yellowed ivories and worn ebony flats and sharps. I’d rescued it from the basement rec-room of a friend long ago, and lovingly refinished it. I took lessons, but never quite learned to play with any facility. When my daughter expressed a desire for it, I was very happy.

When her crew of friends who came to help move it were done with loading, I encouraged each of them to choose a piece of art from the house to take as a thank you. It gave me peace and joy to know that those objects would be kept in the light, and viewed with pleasure by these people and their friends. The alternative was storage in darkness.

Take those superfluous cork pullers, and all the whatever else… take it straight to Goodwill Industries, and help others to uncork some wine.

It’s the best feeling ever.

Two People and a Boat

Elliott and I have long been searching for something we can do together once he retires. At one point–a long time ago–I thought that might be flying, but the older I’ve gotten, the more frightened of that I’ve become, much to Elliott’s disappointment. Quilting isn’t really Elliott’s style, nor is running. Well, he runs–but he much prefers to do so by himself or just the two of us; races aren’t his thing. For me, however, the energy of a race and all of its people give me added energy. So, running’s out. Although we both like to read, that’s more of a solitary pleasure. Kayaking’s okay, but limited by weather and tides. We both vetoed golf, hunting, and a whole host of other ideas, for one reason or another.

Then we got invited to visit our friends Beth and Eric on their sailboat. I’d never been sailing before, and it was a perfect weekend. Slowly, the idea of getting our own boat took root. In June 2016, Elliott and I both attended the Windward School in Fernandina Beach for a weeklong sailing school, where both of us earned our ASA 104 certificates. (School isn’t nearly as easy as it used to be, let me tell you! Engine mechanics requires a bigger brain and a heftier vocabulary than I have, I’m afraid.)

We started visiting marinas wherever we went, drooling over sailboats, learning what we could about what we wanted and didn’t want. A well-maintained and gorgeous boat, Integrity, was just 25 feet long and we theoretically could step the mast ourselves if we wanted to join friends Cherie and Chris on the Great Loop–but sleeping would have been cramped and there was no kitchen. The Sneaky Tiki was gorgeous and everything we wanted, but a bit out of our price range. A 45-foot Bruce Roberts gave us a lot of room–but was probably more than two novices could easily handle. While Elliott searched and queried, I waited for the boat that would shout, “Pick me! Pick me!”

Sailing friends Kate and Fabio tied up in Jacksonville, just across the pier from Kathryn. Elliott visited the two of them, and it turned out the owner was getting ready to put Kathryn on the market. She’s a Tartan 37, and has had only the one owner since her manufacture up in Ohio in about 1980. We indicated our interest, and set up a sea trial a couple weeks later. She sails like a dream. Smooth, gorgeous, and definitely worth waiting for. I heard her say “Pick me!” loud and clear.

Like any good prospective boat owner, we’re having a survey done, in mid April. Boat surveyors act like home inspectors, checking into and under all the nooks and crannies that newbies like us wouldn’t think twice about. “See these bubbles here? That might indicate a bit of rot under the paint.” “Compression check shows one of your cylinders isn’t…doing its cylinder thing.” (Have I mentioned how I don’t understand engine mechanics…yet?)

Hopefully, Kathryn will pass her survey with flying colors. We’ll be down there that day, shadowing the inspector. If all goes well, she’ll get a new coat (or two!) of bottom paint, as long as she’s out of the water. And the next step will be moving her closer to us…and that means sailing!

I can’t wait.

This makes my third narration in release, and I’m well-pleased with it. It’s a story filled with a history I lived through, and close to home geographically, as well, set between metropolitan New York City, and Cornell University in Ithaca, NY.

The author, Bruce Dancis, tells of the commitment he and other student radicals of the ’60’s shared in their effort to stop the Vietnam war. The act of resisting conscription was deeply radical, a felony punishable by a crushing fine and hard time.  Dancis and his fellows in the Students for a Democratic Society did their best to inspire thousands to follow their example of destroying their draft cards, and flooding the legal system with “resisters”; young men refusing to support the  pointless and illegal war in Asia.

If you grew up in the 60s, and even if you didn’t, you’ll find this story engaging.  The times it describes are relevant to today. The turmoil of an unjust and unjustifiable war then can be related to the shocks and stresses of today.  The political and racial divisions of that time continue even now.  I recommend Dancis’ book as a powerful and personal testiment.

Hear a sample from the audiobook at Audible.com , and please know this: if you are a new customer at Audible, and make ‘Resister’ your first paid purchase, it garners a BONUS royalty for the narrator. Thanks!

You can hear samples of my other audiobooks at SpokenArts, my production web site, as well. The are ‘The Calamari Kleptocracy‘ by Nicholas Sansone, and ‘Headwind’ by Christopher Hudson.

Thanks for listening!

 

I just finished an eye-opening book today: ‘Imperial Life in the Emerald City’ by Rajiv Chandrasekaran. It’s a journalist’s memoir of the occupation of Iraq which focuses not on the military aspects of the invasion but rather on the abject failure of planning and policy in the ensuing occupation. It’s a clear and well annotated account of a story that’s never been reported to the American people, except in the most vague of terms.

The Bush administration filled the CPA (Coalition Provisional Authority) with inept cronies, in preference to skilled non-partisan diplomats from the State Department. To rebuild Iraq’s health care system, they replaced an experienced ex-Navy physician-administator who had coordinated health care on a Kurdish mission with a conservative Michigan party hack, who devoted his time in Iraq to privatizing the country’s state-run pharmaceutical distribution system; an agency which due to looting had no drugs to distribute in the first place.

Six days before the hand-over of sovereignty to the Iraq-interim government, 2.4 BILLION dollars in US monies, IN CASH, specifically $100 bills, was transported into Baghdad, and transferred into purposes as yet unaccounted for. An additional 6 billion more in conventional money transfers can be added to that sum for the month preceding, also never accounted for. And those figures are a tiny fraction of the total squandered in the money-pit of the occupation.

The incompetance and corruption was everywhere. In instance after instance reported in Chandrasekaran’s book, it is clear that the CPA was focused on removing that which once actually served the Iraqi people, Saddam’s socialist infrastructure, rather than rebuilding that which two gulf wars had destroyed: the power grid, water system, and public infrastructure.

The occupation of Iraq completely destabilized that nation, led to the death of tens of thousands of their people, and now ten years after, has left a vacuum of tribal and civil warfare that continues with no end in sight. The greatest irony is that the Neo-conservative cronies in charge of the occupation are the ones most at fault for engendering the power of the present-day Shiite-led majority government.

Prior to the 2003 invasion of Iraq it could not be demonstrated that Al Quaida held ANY sway or influence in Iraq. Today they definitely ARE waging civil war in open revolt in Fallujah, while the government does what it can with the US trained and armed Iraqi
forces.  As a nation, it seems we’re always “sewing dragon’s teeth” abroad. Oh, well. At least the oil keeps flowing.

I experienced this book as an audiobook offering from Audible, narrated by Ray Porter, whose work is very fine indeed. Non-fiction narration can often be terribly dry and disinteresting, but Porter’s cadences, voicings, and use of foreign accents where called for kept this book alive and fascinating throughout.

Find it here at Amazon, or here at Audible.com.