Onslaught. That's the word that came to me as I contemplated the events in Washington, DC. Especially troublesome to me this morning is the taunting and harassment of Nathan Phillips, the Omaha Elder. I grew up with that sort of behavior in South Dakota.
I suppose I was in junior high at the time of the American Indian Movement protests in South Dakota. They gathered at Wounded Knee. They took over the courthouse in Sioux Falls. They unleashed a furor amid the white population of South Dakota.
I remember a conversation I had with my boss at the grocery store where I worked. Stella was her name. I remember saying "We did take their land, and I suppose we'd be angry too if someone did that to us." Her response was to say what a terrible shame it would have been to leave the great plains and the wonderful farmland in the hands of the Indians. What a waste.
I also remember an event that precipitated the protests at Wounded Knee and elsewhere. A Native American man showed up at a community event south of Pine Ridge, across the border in Nebraska if I recall. A bunch of good ol' boys decided to have some fun and got out their pistols to shoot at his feet to make him dance. Perhaps you've seen that type of scene depicted in art or cowboy and indian movies. It was acted out in real life. The Native American man died that night.
Subhuman. Savages. Drunks. All too common images.
I wish I could say that I had gotten to know my neighbors in South Dakota. Our state had the highest percentage of Native People in the nation. Vast reservations in the western part of the state. Rosebud. Pine Ridge. I played against the Indian Schools in High School sports.
But this was the thing. My belief and experience was that South Dakota was the most segregated state in the nation. The reservations did that. My high school was almost 100% white, save for a couple of Native Americans, who subsequently dropped out of school. The next school district over was on the reservation and 90% Native. There were not separate facilities for whites and 'colored'. There were separate parts of the state for each to live in. Blacks were forced to sit at the back of the bus. There were no buses in South Dakota. No intermingling to speak of at all.
There was the overwhelming sense that the superior race won. White supremacy was so prevalent that it hardly merited speaking about. Everyone just knew it.
But this is the thing. The assertion of racial supremacy is in itself, the proof of the opposite.
One of the best experiences of my collegiate days was to take a minorities studies course at Augustana taught by Dr. Martin Brokenleg. Many lessons about the differences in our cultures. One of the observations that he made which stuck with me is the assertion that Native Americans suffered greatly in this country, in part, because they made lousy slaves. Their spirit simply wouldn't submit. They'd rather die, and many did. That's why we imported slaves. The Lakota were not going to pick cotton.
But back to Covington High School youth and the protests and counter protests in DC. A Christian youth group. A Roman Catholic youth group. Roman Catholic. Many Native Americans have embraced the Roman Catholic faith through the work of the missions over the years. I'm troubled that these young men went to DC as Christians to protest abortion, and yet showed such disrespect for the life of another. Pro-life has to be more than 'anti-abortion'.
Making America Great Again cannot be about returning to the interracial strife of the last century and before.
We are better than that.
This is not a white nation. It never has been. It has always been a mix of peoples, at least since Europeans set foot in the land. Actually, the various indigenous nations that populated the land before European immigration represented a great cultural diversity in and of itself. Cultural diversity is the norm in this land. Always has been.
But the history books I studied haven't done it justice. Hispanics were here first. Natives were always here. This nation was built by immigrants from every part of the world.
Funniest thing about the DC event is that the kids from Covington chanted "Build that Wall". Don't they realize THEY were the immigrants?
I'm hopeful. I honestly believe that we will rise up above racism and grow in our respect for one another. The intimidation of Nathan Phillips would not have made the news in the South Dakota of my youth. We've changed. We will continue to change. And my liberal bias is that we are changing for the better. This latest onslaught of white supremacy will pass. Trump will not be forever.
Yes, one can hope.
Sunday, January 20, 2019
Sunday, January 13, 2019
Aging Well
In a few weeks I'll turn sixty two. Retirement is now a choice. Not necessarily a good choice at this time, but a choice nevertheless. If I retired today I'd be able to match the income I've been making from my cabinet making, but not from my church work. Delaying retirement will bring up my income to the point where I'll be able to match my total income.
But with my background it's nice to know that retirement is an option. I have sufficient equity in my home that if I really needed to retire I could sell this home, purchase a less expensive home, and be able to live frugally. For example, I could pay cash for a home in Otis Orchards where my church is. There's some freedom in knowing that is an option. My continuing to work is a choice, not a necessity. I choose to continue working so that we can live in Sandpoint, not Otis Orchards. We like it here.
I'm thinking about aging more these days. Last night we had steak for dinner. Karla and I shared one. And we couldn't finish it. Senior portions. And then there is my sleep patterns. Early to bed, early to rise. This is so foreign to the pattern I established over the course of my life.
And then there is the death of my father. Both mom and dad are gone now. This fact came front and center for two reasons this month. On a trivial note, I deleted their contact information from my phone. That was unexpectedly an emotional experience. Secondly, the estate will settle this month.
I suppose the joy of being a grandparent also leads one to consider aging. As does the simple fact that our children are more and more prone to 'help out' mom and dad. And we are more inclined to accept their assistance. I also notice this in my work at the cabinet shop. I can still lift heavy sheets of plywood by myself. But you know what? If there is a young buck walking by at that moment I'm not at all hesitant to ask for and receive help. I don't have to prove my manhood anymore. At least not by lifting 150#.
It seems to me there is a fundamental choice that we make at this time in our life. Do we devote ourselves to preserving our youth, or aging gracefully.
To dye or not to dye. That's the question many women face. Karla has chosen to wear her grey hair as a badge of honor. She earned it (living with me!). Fun fact-- gray can be spelled either gray or grey, it's not black or white.
To work out or not work out. My doctors would like to see me exercise more. I struggle with that because of my knees (and just about every other joint). I'm on my feet and physically active at the cabinet shop. If I overdo it exercising at home I suffer through sore knees at work. What really bothers me is stairs and walking on uneven surfaces. Too soon for replacements. I'm reminded of my grandmother who never went upstairs in her home. The children would be instructed to change the sheets when they stayed, and bring down the dirty sheets when they left. Grandma would wash them, and put them on the steps for the next visitor to use.
Contentedness. I'm neither 18 or 88 at this point. I'm at peace with that. I look forward to retirement, but I'm not desperate for it either. When the time comes, I'll retire first from the cabinet shop and spend my time in my own shop doing furniture for my family and improving our home. And then, I'll retire at a later date from the church I serve, depending of course on whether my call there lasts that long. All in due time.
In woodworking, the greatest satisfaction comes from seeing the finished product. In life I think the greatest satisfaction I've experienced is from seeing my children reach adulthood and turn out to be such wonderful people, each in their own right. You don't get that experience when you are 28. It's the exclusive privilege of aging.
So rather than lament the fact that I'm getting older, I'm rejoicing in the fact that my adult children are now becoming my friends. That is truly a blessing.
But with my background it's nice to know that retirement is an option. I have sufficient equity in my home that if I really needed to retire I could sell this home, purchase a less expensive home, and be able to live frugally. For example, I could pay cash for a home in Otis Orchards where my church is. There's some freedom in knowing that is an option. My continuing to work is a choice, not a necessity. I choose to continue working so that we can live in Sandpoint, not Otis Orchards. We like it here.
I'm thinking about aging more these days. Last night we had steak for dinner. Karla and I shared one. And we couldn't finish it. Senior portions. And then there is my sleep patterns. Early to bed, early to rise. This is so foreign to the pattern I established over the course of my life.
And then there is the death of my father. Both mom and dad are gone now. This fact came front and center for two reasons this month. On a trivial note, I deleted their contact information from my phone. That was unexpectedly an emotional experience. Secondly, the estate will settle this month.
I suppose the joy of being a grandparent also leads one to consider aging. As does the simple fact that our children are more and more prone to 'help out' mom and dad. And we are more inclined to accept their assistance. I also notice this in my work at the cabinet shop. I can still lift heavy sheets of plywood by myself. But you know what? If there is a young buck walking by at that moment I'm not at all hesitant to ask for and receive help. I don't have to prove my manhood anymore. At least not by lifting 150#.
It seems to me there is a fundamental choice that we make at this time in our life. Do we devote ourselves to preserving our youth, or aging gracefully.
To dye or not to dye. That's the question many women face. Karla has chosen to wear her grey hair as a badge of honor. She earned it (living with me!). Fun fact-- gray can be spelled either gray or grey, it's not black or white.
To work out or not work out. My doctors would like to see me exercise more. I struggle with that because of my knees (and just about every other joint). I'm on my feet and physically active at the cabinet shop. If I overdo it exercising at home I suffer through sore knees at work. What really bothers me is stairs and walking on uneven surfaces. Too soon for replacements. I'm reminded of my grandmother who never went upstairs in her home. The children would be instructed to change the sheets when they stayed, and bring down the dirty sheets when they left. Grandma would wash them, and put them on the steps for the next visitor to use.
Contentedness. I'm neither 18 or 88 at this point. I'm at peace with that. I look forward to retirement, but I'm not desperate for it either. When the time comes, I'll retire first from the cabinet shop and spend my time in my own shop doing furniture for my family and improving our home. And then, I'll retire at a later date from the church I serve, depending of course on whether my call there lasts that long. All in due time.
In woodworking, the greatest satisfaction comes from seeing the finished product. In life I think the greatest satisfaction I've experienced is from seeing my children reach adulthood and turn out to be such wonderful people, each in their own right. You don't get that experience when you are 28. It's the exclusive privilege of aging.
So rather than lament the fact that I'm getting older, I'm rejoicing in the fact that my adult children are now becoming my friends. That is truly a blessing.
Sunday, January 6, 2019
This and that
4:45 am and I awoke. "Up early, again." some of you might say. Well, no, actually, I slept in considerably. But what is greatest about that is that it was a night that I slept without waking. I'd stayed up a little later because of the Seahawks football game. But even with that, normally I'd have awoken by 3:30 at the latest. I leave for work by 4:45. Nice to sleep.
I saw my neurologist, the sleep specialist, this last month. He had been called by my insurance company. Rozerem, the sleep medication I'm on, is expensive. They don't like that. By expensive I mean approximately $10 a day. He informed them that there is no other drug in that class, no other options, and so I believe that they have OK'd it once again. One of the reasons I continue to see this doctor is that as a neurologist who specializes in sleep his word carries significantly more weight than would the word of a family practice physician.
The reason for the expensive pill for my insomnia? Well, for starters it is one of the few medications that can be taken long term without risk of addiction or significant side effects. One of the others that I'd previously taken worked almost as well, it's just that there was a long term risk of liver damage and addiction. I could just as well have continued with Scotch. Thankfully, I'm good to go with Rozerem. I think.
I keep on thinking to myself that I wish insurance companies would support medication that keeps me well, as opposed to risking my getting seriously ill once again. For the most part they have. And Abilify, the most expensive drug I am on is now available in generic form, and is but a fraction of what it once was. It had been $30 a day.
My cynicism regarding my prescription drug coverage comes up from time to time. I used to use our local pharmacy, and when I did Express Scripts, who manages the prescription drug coverage for our Church, would continually question every medication. Even my latanoprost drops which I use because I'm pre-glaucoma. Yeash, it's only a few dollars, why bother harassing my doctors about it.
Well, you can also fill the prescriptions through Express Scripts pharmacy. Funny thing, when they are selling them, and reaping the profit, they don't question them near as much. Funny thing. I wonder if Portico, the Church's insurance, knows that.
On another note, I had my annual physical last month. I'm doing well. I've gained a little weight due to quitting smoking. Doctor says I'd have to gain a hundred pounds to counteract the positives from quitting smoking. It was also the first time he'd seen me since my bowel obstruction and surgery. I was able to have laparoscopic surgery. He shared with me how lucky we are to live today with all the medical advancements. A hundred years ago I would have been told to just go to bed and die.
I add that I do feel lucky. A few pills a day and my bipolar disorder is well managed. Yeah, they can be expensive, but the alternative of a lifetime of disability and going in and out of psych wards is more expensive. Instead, I have my life back.
So life is good. Praise God.
I saw my neurologist, the sleep specialist, this last month. He had been called by my insurance company. Rozerem, the sleep medication I'm on, is expensive. They don't like that. By expensive I mean approximately $10 a day. He informed them that there is no other drug in that class, no other options, and so I believe that they have OK'd it once again. One of the reasons I continue to see this doctor is that as a neurologist who specializes in sleep his word carries significantly more weight than would the word of a family practice physician.
The reason for the expensive pill for my insomnia? Well, for starters it is one of the few medications that can be taken long term without risk of addiction or significant side effects. One of the others that I'd previously taken worked almost as well, it's just that there was a long term risk of liver damage and addiction. I could just as well have continued with Scotch. Thankfully, I'm good to go with Rozerem. I think.
I keep on thinking to myself that I wish insurance companies would support medication that keeps me well, as opposed to risking my getting seriously ill once again. For the most part they have. And Abilify, the most expensive drug I am on is now available in generic form, and is but a fraction of what it once was. It had been $30 a day.
My cynicism regarding my prescription drug coverage comes up from time to time. I used to use our local pharmacy, and when I did Express Scripts, who manages the prescription drug coverage for our Church, would continually question every medication. Even my latanoprost drops which I use because I'm pre-glaucoma. Yeash, it's only a few dollars, why bother harassing my doctors about it.
Well, you can also fill the prescriptions through Express Scripts pharmacy. Funny thing, when they are selling them, and reaping the profit, they don't question them near as much. Funny thing. I wonder if Portico, the Church's insurance, knows that.
On another note, I had my annual physical last month. I'm doing well. I've gained a little weight due to quitting smoking. Doctor says I'd have to gain a hundred pounds to counteract the positives from quitting smoking. It was also the first time he'd seen me since my bowel obstruction and surgery. I was able to have laparoscopic surgery. He shared with me how lucky we are to live today with all the medical advancements. A hundred years ago I would have been told to just go to bed and die.
I add that I do feel lucky. A few pills a day and my bipolar disorder is well managed. Yeah, they can be expensive, but the alternative of a lifetime of disability and going in and out of psych wards is more expensive. Instead, I have my life back.
So life is good. Praise God.
Tuesday, January 1, 2019
Major Announcement. . .
Fellow citizens, after deep reflection and consideration, but without consulting with any of my supporters, I have come to the conclusion that I will not be running for President of the United States this election cycle. I reach this decision with a heavy heart, but feel that it is the best course of action at this time.
I was going to mount a campaign with the slogan "Make America Sane Again", which preliminary market studies showed to have a certain appeal to the American public. A second slogan would have been "Dave Olson for President: At least he's on his meds."
I know this will be received by many of you with great disappointment. And I understand, but still, the toll this would have taken on my family and me was just too great.
I do believe that my experience with being bipolar would have made me well suited for the Presidency. For example, my own experience is that taking Lamictal is an effective remedy for the highs and lows that are too often experienced. This is exactly what the stock market needs. Wild swings up and down are not beneficial to the nation's economy. I have a solution. Lamictal. Or lithium, if need be.
Some feel our nation is headed towards a depression. There you have it, another issue with which I am uniquely equipped and experienced to handle.
I have also learned fiscal responsibility. Although when it comes to the federal budget and allocating trillions of dollars of resources it might be necessary to go off my meds for a spell. Bipolar people in a manic phase are quite adept at the task of spending vast amounts of money. Debt is also something we have personal experience with. Bipolar people are like that. My solution for the national debt is that we will accept an unlimited amount of promotional credit cards and continually transfer funds back and forth to maintain zero interest on the balance. This would save us lots of money.
I would have led us back to a time when we were a kinder, gentler, nation. Our theme song would have been "Its a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor, would you be mine." Part of this emphasis would require all drivers to wave at each other, like they do in the farming communities of the midwest.
I believe that we need to respond to the humanitarian crisis of immigrants at our southern border. And yet, I also believe that we need a means of restricting entrance to the country to those who really want to be here and need to be here because of dire necessity. A simple solution can be found in my Norwegian American background (and by the way, I will be doing a genetic test to prove that I am of Norwegian descent). What we would have done is to welcome these immigrants and asylum seekers and provide them with lutefisk to eat for their first year in the country. This would have reduced the amount of people seeking entrance to the country to those who truly need to come here.
One of the questions asked during campaigns is the phone call at 3 am question. Who do you want taking that call? Hey, I'm up at 3 am anyway. No big deal.
I am somewhat disappointed to come to this conclusion. Being bipolar I could have brought both the melancholy of Abraham Lincoln and vast ambition of FDR back to the White House.
Some of you are rolling your eyes and saying "Dave, you're just not smart enough to be President." True. But this is my belief. (And for the first time in this piece of satire, I'm being dead serious.) The job of the President is to surround himself or herself with people far smarter than they, to the end that they are the dumbest person in the room. Their job as President is not to be the smartest, but to pray instead for wisdom. And this is my prayer, that as we as a nation enter the next election cycle we will seek out and find a candidate that may not be the most experienced, nor the most intelligent, nor the most charismatic, and certainly not the richest, but rather simply wise.
I was going to mount a campaign with the slogan "Make America Sane Again", which preliminary market studies showed to have a certain appeal to the American public. A second slogan would have been "Dave Olson for President: At least he's on his meds."
I know this will be received by many of you with great disappointment. And I understand, but still, the toll this would have taken on my family and me was just too great.
I do believe that my experience with being bipolar would have made me well suited for the Presidency. For example, my own experience is that taking Lamictal is an effective remedy for the highs and lows that are too often experienced. This is exactly what the stock market needs. Wild swings up and down are not beneficial to the nation's economy. I have a solution. Lamictal. Or lithium, if need be.
Some feel our nation is headed towards a depression. There you have it, another issue with which I am uniquely equipped and experienced to handle.
I have also learned fiscal responsibility. Although when it comes to the federal budget and allocating trillions of dollars of resources it might be necessary to go off my meds for a spell. Bipolar people in a manic phase are quite adept at the task of spending vast amounts of money. Debt is also something we have personal experience with. Bipolar people are like that. My solution for the national debt is that we will accept an unlimited amount of promotional credit cards and continually transfer funds back and forth to maintain zero interest on the balance. This would save us lots of money.
I would have led us back to a time when we were a kinder, gentler, nation. Our theme song would have been "Its a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor, would you be mine." Part of this emphasis would require all drivers to wave at each other, like they do in the farming communities of the midwest.
I believe that we need to respond to the humanitarian crisis of immigrants at our southern border. And yet, I also believe that we need a means of restricting entrance to the country to those who really want to be here and need to be here because of dire necessity. A simple solution can be found in my Norwegian American background (and by the way, I will be doing a genetic test to prove that I am of Norwegian descent). What we would have done is to welcome these immigrants and asylum seekers and provide them with lutefisk to eat for their first year in the country. This would have reduced the amount of people seeking entrance to the country to those who truly need to come here.
One of the questions asked during campaigns is the phone call at 3 am question. Who do you want taking that call? Hey, I'm up at 3 am anyway. No big deal.
I am somewhat disappointed to come to this conclusion. Being bipolar I could have brought both the melancholy of Abraham Lincoln and vast ambition of FDR back to the White House.
Some of you are rolling your eyes and saying "Dave, you're just not smart enough to be President." True. But this is my belief. (And for the first time in this piece of satire, I'm being dead serious.) The job of the President is to surround himself or herself with people far smarter than they, to the end that they are the dumbest person in the room. Their job as President is not to be the smartest, but to pray instead for wisdom. And this is my prayer, that as we as a nation enter the next election cycle we will seek out and find a candidate that may not be the most experienced, nor the most intelligent, nor the most charismatic, and certainly not the richest, but rather simply wise.
Monday, December 24, 2018
Gratitude
Life is good. I like writing that. Gratitude. In AA we promote an "attitude of gratitude". Resentments are the fodder for drinking, and gratitude is the foundation of sobriety. I have much to be grateful for these days.
Karla and I are doing well. To say the last few years have been times of upheaval is an understatement. Both of us have experienced significant vocational changes. Alcoholism and treatment. Disability. Uncertainty. Yeah, try buying a home and then almost immediately crashing and burning. The future often seemed uncertain. But I'm working doing the two things I love, and Karla is dedicating herself to the fine art of being an Oma (as well as caring for Kersten's grandma.
Two things about our children. First, each of them makes us proud to be parents. They are pursuing their dreams and succeeding. And secondly, what a joy it is that we have a wonderful relationship with all of them. With all the discord in families, we are grateful for the loving relationships we have enjoyed.
Today, I am also overwhelmed with the generosity of my congregation and the direction things are going. It's a small band of believers. Small. About 20 to 25 in worship on a Sunday. We have been fortunate to have a little money in the bank because the cost of my serving half time has been a stretch. I think the budget is about $65,000 a year for this congregation. Now just run the numbers on that for a moment. We have to average about $3,000 per year from each person attending worship. We've comforted ourselves that we have the reserves to weather some budgetary shortfalls.
And then the last two weeks. Major year end gifts have left us not only in the black for the year, but have doubled our reserves. Doubled. I can't tell you how many times the council has wondered if we would be able to survive, but we have taken it one day at a time. And then, two weeks. Two offerings that exceeded all expectations. Our members believe in the future of our ministry and have invested themselves heavily to make that possible. What a joy it is to serve among such committed people.
We have a home. This means two things for me.
When we came to Sandpoint nearly twenty years ago I had a goal. I wanted to give my younger two children what I hadn't been able to give my older two, and what I never had myself. A home. A hometown, specifically. Roots. A place to return to. That has happened. Not only were they able to remain in Sandpoint throughout their youth, they have both found employment and remain here. We enjoy interacting with them on a daily/weekly basis. And we are able to be a significant part of our first grandchild's life. Gratitude.
Less important than that, but still significant is our house. Karla and I made the most significant financial decision of our lives when we stretched to buy this house. And the timing couldn't have been worse, or better. Both, actually. We moved in the first of September, and I hit rock bottom the 14th of October. Thankfully I had disability to help pay the mortgage. We had made a significant withdrawal from my pensions to get into this house. It seemed that we gambled a lot, and financial gambles are generally not a good thing for a bipolar person. Bipolar people tend to not have a very good record in such matters. . .
But we bought at the low point in the market. And as it turned out, we needed a place to live as we would have had to move out of the parsonage following my resignation. What's delightful is that our investment has done well. According to some of the value estimators, we now have more equity in the home than we owe. In the end, the most questionable of all the financial decisions we have made will likely be the best decision we have made. Oh, I realize that there will be ups and downs in the real estate market. And that is rather irrelevant because we have no interest in selling. But we have a home and that is important.
It's Christmas. What a wonderful time. We will celebrate with all our family. We still have that privilege. And again, we are grateful. Grateful for the goodness of God that has sustained and blessed us throughout these years.
Peace to all of you this Christmas Eve.
Karla and I are doing well. To say the last few years have been times of upheaval is an understatement. Both of us have experienced significant vocational changes. Alcoholism and treatment. Disability. Uncertainty. Yeah, try buying a home and then almost immediately crashing and burning. The future often seemed uncertain. But I'm working doing the two things I love, and Karla is dedicating herself to the fine art of being an Oma (as well as caring for Kersten's grandma.
Two things about our children. First, each of them makes us proud to be parents. They are pursuing their dreams and succeeding. And secondly, what a joy it is that we have a wonderful relationship with all of them. With all the discord in families, we are grateful for the loving relationships we have enjoyed.
Today, I am also overwhelmed with the generosity of my congregation and the direction things are going. It's a small band of believers. Small. About 20 to 25 in worship on a Sunday. We have been fortunate to have a little money in the bank because the cost of my serving half time has been a stretch. I think the budget is about $65,000 a year for this congregation. Now just run the numbers on that for a moment. We have to average about $3,000 per year from each person attending worship. We've comforted ourselves that we have the reserves to weather some budgetary shortfalls.
And then the last two weeks. Major year end gifts have left us not only in the black for the year, but have doubled our reserves. Doubled. I can't tell you how many times the council has wondered if we would be able to survive, but we have taken it one day at a time. And then, two weeks. Two offerings that exceeded all expectations. Our members believe in the future of our ministry and have invested themselves heavily to make that possible. What a joy it is to serve among such committed people.
We have a home. This means two things for me.
When we came to Sandpoint nearly twenty years ago I had a goal. I wanted to give my younger two children what I hadn't been able to give my older two, and what I never had myself. A home. A hometown, specifically. Roots. A place to return to. That has happened. Not only were they able to remain in Sandpoint throughout their youth, they have both found employment and remain here. We enjoy interacting with them on a daily/weekly basis. And we are able to be a significant part of our first grandchild's life. Gratitude.
Less important than that, but still significant is our house. Karla and I made the most significant financial decision of our lives when we stretched to buy this house. And the timing couldn't have been worse, or better. Both, actually. We moved in the first of September, and I hit rock bottom the 14th of October. Thankfully I had disability to help pay the mortgage. We had made a significant withdrawal from my pensions to get into this house. It seemed that we gambled a lot, and financial gambles are generally not a good thing for a bipolar person. Bipolar people tend to not have a very good record in such matters. . .
But we bought at the low point in the market. And as it turned out, we needed a place to live as we would have had to move out of the parsonage following my resignation. What's delightful is that our investment has done well. According to some of the value estimators, we now have more equity in the home than we owe. In the end, the most questionable of all the financial decisions we have made will likely be the best decision we have made. Oh, I realize that there will be ups and downs in the real estate market. And that is rather irrelevant because we have no interest in selling. But we have a home and that is important.
It's Christmas. What a wonderful time. We will celebrate with all our family. We still have that privilege. And again, we are grateful. Grateful for the goodness of God that has sustained and blessed us throughout these years.
Peace to all of you this Christmas Eve.
Sunday, December 9, 2018
Negotiating a Purchase, Bipolar Style
Bipolar. Mania. Symptom: Going on buying sprees or making foolish investments.
OK, so those are the perimeters of the conversation. The situation is that we are getting to the point where it is going to be necessary to purchase a car for my wife. Currently she drives a 2006 Toyota Sienna AWD. It has been a wonderful car for us. Dependable. Gets around in the snow of North Idaho well. And nice. It's Oma's "magic car" with doors that open with a push of a button, etc.
Alas, as it approaches 200,000 miles it is developing some issues. The rear suspension is worn and cannot be realigned meaning that tires will wear significantly and unevenly. They also couldn't get a good alignment on the front, so it pulls to one side. Recently one of the back sliding doors broke. Bottom line, it's time.
The good news is that in short order my father's estate will settle (hopefully) which will allow us to clear up some debts and position ourselves to be able to afford a car payment.
The challenge is that I've always been the car buyer in our family. For a variety of reasons Karla has deferred to me in that area. I do all the preliminary work and shopping. Once I've settled on a vehicle I ask for her consent, which she has normally given. The difficult position that I've put her in on numerous occasions is that my momentum for purchasing a vehicle is pretty strong by the time I ask her permission and to say no would be a little like trying to stop a freight train that is rumbling down the tracks at 70 miles an hour. Add to that the fact that manic tendencies do not always make for good purchases and we've got a new challenge.
So we are trying to learn a new game. Karla has agreed to take a more active role early on in the shopping and selecting of a vehicle. Together we've decided to look at three options: Another Sienna; a Highlander; or a Rav4. All of them are available in All Wheel Drive, and two of which are available in a hybrid, which we'd prefer. A big question is whether we buy new or used.
It's not always straightforward. Used is not always the cheaper route. When we bought our Dodge Caravan a while back, the only late model used vehicles were lease returns which tended to be the highest priced trim packages, meaning that a used vehicle was running about $24,000 while a new vehicle could be purchased with what we needed for $18,500. Also, financing is frequently more advantageous on a new vehicle with the net result that sometimes the payment for a new vehicle is less per month than the payment for a used vehicle. I also have developed a simple formula to determine the relative value.
My formula is to calculate the cost per mile of the vehicle based on a life span of 200,000 miles. So for example, we could probably get a new Sienna for around $40,000 depending on the trim package. That works out to 20 cents a mile over the life of the vehicle. One used vehicle with 70,000 miles I've looked at was originally priced at $27,000. At that price it would cost 21 cents per mile for the remaining 130,000 miles of its lifespan. It's now been reduced to 23,000 which makes the cost per mile around 18 cents. That assumes that the interest rate is the same on the used as it is on the new, though often promotional rates for new cars are well below standard rates for used, sometimes even 0%. For example, a 2018 Rav4 Hybrid can be purchased new for around 30,000 with 0% interest resulting in a per mile cost of 15 cents, while paying interest on a used vehicle I located with low mileage results in a cost of 17 cents.
So it goes. What I find myself needing to do to counteract the impulses associated with being bipolar is to find as many objective standards upon which to base a decision as possible. And hopefully, standards that are objective enough that others who are not bipolar (AKA my wife) will be able to look at them and say "That makes sense."
This is not a bad thing. In hindsight I wish I had always been so diligent in making purchases on major items. It has been in the past, a mixed bag. My manic side kicked in previously in making two major purchases. A house and a CNC Router. Both involved about the same amount of cash upfront, a down payment on the house, and the full price of the CNC. By purchasing the house at a low point in the market we have since realized an appreciation that has left us sitting quite well, with nearly 4 times the down payment now in equity. It didn't work out so well with the CNC. My imagined business plan didn't pan out. Oh, we can do some neat stuff, it just hasn't been worth the investment and its resale value is not great either. Bottom line is that I spent more on the CNC that I've earned using it. Lesson learned.
What I'm finding is that negotiating such treacherous waters requires discipline. And a willingness to 'pass' on some great deals that may not be all that great. And most importantly, seeking to involve others in such decisions and letting the facts rule the day, not my power of persuasion.
We'll see how this all unfolds in the coming months. . .
OK, so those are the perimeters of the conversation. The situation is that we are getting to the point where it is going to be necessary to purchase a car for my wife. Currently she drives a 2006 Toyota Sienna AWD. It has been a wonderful car for us. Dependable. Gets around in the snow of North Idaho well. And nice. It's Oma's "magic car" with doors that open with a push of a button, etc.
Alas, as it approaches 200,000 miles it is developing some issues. The rear suspension is worn and cannot be realigned meaning that tires will wear significantly and unevenly. They also couldn't get a good alignment on the front, so it pulls to one side. Recently one of the back sliding doors broke. Bottom line, it's time.
The good news is that in short order my father's estate will settle (hopefully) which will allow us to clear up some debts and position ourselves to be able to afford a car payment.
The challenge is that I've always been the car buyer in our family. For a variety of reasons Karla has deferred to me in that area. I do all the preliminary work and shopping. Once I've settled on a vehicle I ask for her consent, which she has normally given. The difficult position that I've put her in on numerous occasions is that my momentum for purchasing a vehicle is pretty strong by the time I ask her permission and to say no would be a little like trying to stop a freight train that is rumbling down the tracks at 70 miles an hour. Add to that the fact that manic tendencies do not always make for good purchases and we've got a new challenge.
So we are trying to learn a new game. Karla has agreed to take a more active role early on in the shopping and selecting of a vehicle. Together we've decided to look at three options: Another Sienna; a Highlander; or a Rav4. All of them are available in All Wheel Drive, and two of which are available in a hybrid, which we'd prefer. A big question is whether we buy new or used.
It's not always straightforward. Used is not always the cheaper route. When we bought our Dodge Caravan a while back, the only late model used vehicles were lease returns which tended to be the highest priced trim packages, meaning that a used vehicle was running about $24,000 while a new vehicle could be purchased with what we needed for $18,500. Also, financing is frequently more advantageous on a new vehicle with the net result that sometimes the payment for a new vehicle is less per month than the payment for a used vehicle. I also have developed a simple formula to determine the relative value.
My formula is to calculate the cost per mile of the vehicle based on a life span of 200,000 miles. So for example, we could probably get a new Sienna for around $40,000 depending on the trim package. That works out to 20 cents a mile over the life of the vehicle. One used vehicle with 70,000 miles I've looked at was originally priced at $27,000. At that price it would cost 21 cents per mile for the remaining 130,000 miles of its lifespan. It's now been reduced to 23,000 which makes the cost per mile around 18 cents. That assumes that the interest rate is the same on the used as it is on the new, though often promotional rates for new cars are well below standard rates for used, sometimes even 0%. For example, a 2018 Rav4 Hybrid can be purchased new for around 30,000 with 0% interest resulting in a per mile cost of 15 cents, while paying interest on a used vehicle I located with low mileage results in a cost of 17 cents.
So it goes. What I find myself needing to do to counteract the impulses associated with being bipolar is to find as many objective standards upon which to base a decision as possible. And hopefully, standards that are objective enough that others who are not bipolar (AKA my wife) will be able to look at them and say "That makes sense."
This is not a bad thing. In hindsight I wish I had always been so diligent in making purchases on major items. It has been in the past, a mixed bag. My manic side kicked in previously in making two major purchases. A house and a CNC Router. Both involved about the same amount of cash upfront, a down payment on the house, and the full price of the CNC. By purchasing the house at a low point in the market we have since realized an appreciation that has left us sitting quite well, with nearly 4 times the down payment now in equity. It didn't work out so well with the CNC. My imagined business plan didn't pan out. Oh, we can do some neat stuff, it just hasn't been worth the investment and its resale value is not great either. Bottom line is that I spent more on the CNC that I've earned using it. Lesson learned.
What I'm finding is that negotiating such treacherous waters requires discipline. And a willingness to 'pass' on some great deals that may not be all that great. And most importantly, seeking to involve others in such decisions and letting the facts rule the day, not my power of persuasion.
We'll see how this all unfolds in the coming months. . .
Sunday, December 2, 2018
Breaking Free
It's been over 100 days now since I had my last cigarette. I've saved approximately $1,000 during that time. A bit less than that because I'm still vaping as a nicotine replacement therapy to aid in this process. With the vaping you can buy the juice in a variety of strengths. I began at 24 mg. I've managed to reduce that to 12 mgs. It's going well.
Probably the most significant development during this time of breaking free is that I'm developing a self image and identity that I am not a smoker. I am moving from a compulsion to always having tobacco at hand to a revulsion at the thought of ever purchasing again. I am confident in saying that I've purchased my last tobacco.
This is major. It's the mindset that I've achieved with respect to alcohol. That's the reason for my optimism regarding smoking. Not one more. Done. Finished.
There remains the issue of vaping. The advantage of using vaping as a stop smoking aid is that it has proven to be a good substitute. I had reached a roadblock in that I just couldn't get through a work day and the breaks without having a smoke. Vaping got me beyond that. The encouraging thing is that I've been able to reduce the nicotine content of the vaping without issue. You can actually get the vapor juice with nicotine levels of 36, 24, 18, 12, 6, and 0. My strategy has been to settle in at one level until I'm very satisfied, and then to reduce to the next level. In the end, it will get to the point at which I'm not getting any nicotine, and then it will be just a matter of finally saying "hey, I don't need this pacifier anymore. Then I'll be done.
This whole issue of chemical addiction is an interesting one to experience. One observation that has come to me is that it is the body's ability to adapt to the presence of chemicals in the system that makes breaking free so difficult. The point being that once the body adapts to a certain chemical, be it alcohol, or nicotine, or other drugs, there is a negative reaction that comes from cessation. Withdrawal. For those of you who have never been addicted, just understand this. The problem is the withdrawal. It's not that a smoker can just put down the tobacco and feel as good as a non-smoker. During withdrawal one feels terrible, quite frankly. That's why we continue.
I'm told that smoking is one of the most difficult addictions to break. I believe that. It's been a greater struggle than drinking, by far. In my case all that was required to stop drinking was a recognition that it had truly become a problem. Well that and the recognition that one more day drinking might have been the end of my life. . . With drinking, once I recognized that I'd hit rock bottom I recognized that this was not something I could wait until 'tomorrow' to address. It had to happen now. Smoking is different. Unless one is diagnosed with lung cancer, for example, one always believes that one doesn't have to stop today, you can always do it tomorrow. And even if one has a diagnosis of lung cancer or other such smoking related diseases there is a sense that the damage has already been done. I can have another cigarette. I'll quit tomorrow.
I grew up in the context of the religious pietism of my scandinavian family. Though some of that pietism was subsiding by that time, there still was a sense that smoking, drinking, gambling, (and dancing!) etc., were sinful. To this day, there is an anti-pietist tendency in the church that scoffs at the old notion of the sinfulness of these things.
I'm either becoming a pietist in my old age, or at least recognizing that those old timers understood something significant. After having fought the battle of addiction I'm more convinced than ever of the sinfulness of these addictions. There is a point at which one crosses the line. One can drink alcohol in a healthy manner and I'm not suggesting such consumption is a sin. But for some of us, addiction happens. Why, I'm not sure we know. But it happens. Same with other drugs like nicotine. I've also been addicted to Ativan.
The thing about addiction is that you can talk all you want about loving the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, but it is another god that controls one's behaviors. One's entire life is structured around the addictive behavior. Provisions are made to insure that one never faces withdrawal. No sacrifice is too great. Family, jobs, and even one's own life are all sacrificed at the altar of the addiction. If that's not a definition of a god, I don't know what is.
Part of what I'm saying is that I recognize now the importance of a deep repentance in the process of breaking free. This is not just about coughing less. This is about 'having no other gods before me'.
Probably the most significant development during this time of breaking free is that I'm developing a self image and identity that I am not a smoker. I am moving from a compulsion to always having tobacco at hand to a revulsion at the thought of ever purchasing again. I am confident in saying that I've purchased my last tobacco.
This is major. It's the mindset that I've achieved with respect to alcohol. That's the reason for my optimism regarding smoking. Not one more. Done. Finished.
There remains the issue of vaping. The advantage of using vaping as a stop smoking aid is that it has proven to be a good substitute. I had reached a roadblock in that I just couldn't get through a work day and the breaks without having a smoke. Vaping got me beyond that. The encouraging thing is that I've been able to reduce the nicotine content of the vaping without issue. You can actually get the vapor juice with nicotine levels of 36, 24, 18, 12, 6, and 0. My strategy has been to settle in at one level until I'm very satisfied, and then to reduce to the next level. In the end, it will get to the point at which I'm not getting any nicotine, and then it will be just a matter of finally saying "hey, I don't need this pacifier anymore. Then I'll be done.
This whole issue of chemical addiction is an interesting one to experience. One observation that has come to me is that it is the body's ability to adapt to the presence of chemicals in the system that makes breaking free so difficult. The point being that once the body adapts to a certain chemical, be it alcohol, or nicotine, or other drugs, there is a negative reaction that comes from cessation. Withdrawal. For those of you who have never been addicted, just understand this. The problem is the withdrawal. It's not that a smoker can just put down the tobacco and feel as good as a non-smoker. During withdrawal one feels terrible, quite frankly. That's why we continue.
I'm told that smoking is one of the most difficult addictions to break. I believe that. It's been a greater struggle than drinking, by far. In my case all that was required to stop drinking was a recognition that it had truly become a problem. Well that and the recognition that one more day drinking might have been the end of my life. . . With drinking, once I recognized that I'd hit rock bottom I recognized that this was not something I could wait until 'tomorrow' to address. It had to happen now. Smoking is different. Unless one is diagnosed with lung cancer, for example, one always believes that one doesn't have to stop today, you can always do it tomorrow. And even if one has a diagnosis of lung cancer or other such smoking related diseases there is a sense that the damage has already been done. I can have another cigarette. I'll quit tomorrow.
I grew up in the context of the religious pietism of my scandinavian family. Though some of that pietism was subsiding by that time, there still was a sense that smoking, drinking, gambling, (and dancing!) etc., were sinful. To this day, there is an anti-pietist tendency in the church that scoffs at the old notion of the sinfulness of these things.
I'm either becoming a pietist in my old age, or at least recognizing that those old timers understood something significant. After having fought the battle of addiction I'm more convinced than ever of the sinfulness of these addictions. There is a point at which one crosses the line. One can drink alcohol in a healthy manner and I'm not suggesting such consumption is a sin. But for some of us, addiction happens. Why, I'm not sure we know. But it happens. Same with other drugs like nicotine. I've also been addicted to Ativan.
The thing about addiction is that you can talk all you want about loving the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, but it is another god that controls one's behaviors. One's entire life is structured around the addictive behavior. Provisions are made to insure that one never faces withdrawal. No sacrifice is too great. Family, jobs, and even one's own life are all sacrificed at the altar of the addiction. If that's not a definition of a god, I don't know what is.
Part of what I'm saying is that I recognize now the importance of a deep repentance in the process of breaking free. This is not just about coughing less. This is about 'having no other gods before me'.
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