Reflections on City Lights, City Sounds

I didn’t notice until the topic arose at a gathering of neighbors, but the people who own our apartment building seem to crave attention. They’ve added lights. Lots of lights. Around every edge of our building’s roof, and there are lots of edges because of the way the building is constructed. Our specific apartment doesn’t face the lights, but for our neighbors, the new lights definitely brighten their bedrooms at night. 

We drove home after dark yesterday, and our building is, let’s just say, conspicuous. No one who lives here could fail to find their way home in the evening. We’re like the north star a million times over. Nothing around us has more than a lightbulb in a doorway to guide folks. As one who craves the sight of stars at night, I’m saddened to see this “improvement.” Why? What were they thinking? Do they have any second thoughts? Do the owners even live where they can see what they’ve done? 

As I get closer and closer to the point at which I will nod off and never wake up again, I’ve started to think of good things that could happen after I pass away. Two things come mind: lights and sounds. I don’t think we will go back to the stone age, but I do think that people in the future will crave darkness and silence and find ways to access both. People who live in urban areas today are fortunate if they can see Venus in the night sky, much less Orion or the Big Dipper, much less the Milky Way. Yet for most of human history, people relied on the night sky to guide them, land voyagers and seafarers alike. 

Little did I know when I was young that I would lose my ability to see the stars long before I lost my vision. I grew up in a small city with porch lights, street lights and some neon business lights, but we could still see stars and identify constellations. Today, I have to make a determined effort to get far enough away from city lights to get my fill of the night sky. We lived for a few years six miles from a very small town where we had the good fortune of being able to enjoy the stars, and on very dark nights, the Milky Way. My heart aches for the thrill of walking out our back door and looking up to take in the glory of our bit of the universe. Every move we make involves tradeoffs. Sigh.

City sounds are another mixed blessing. Sirens are annoying, but it’s reassuring to know that help is within reach if we need it. Street cleaners are perhaps the major annoyance where we currently live. I’m not sure why our small city thinks that 6:00 a.m. is the right time to send the very noisy street cleaner to our neighborhood. It takes an hour to go up and down the street in front of our building once a week like clockwork. Seriously? Who created this schedule? Bet that machine doesn’t work in their neighborhood ever! 

And then there are the garbage trucks and the food delivery trucks that service us and the restaurants that are nearby. These I value because I love for the garbage to go away, and I love to have half a dozen restaurants so close that we can easily walk to them. (Plus, the garbage and delivery trucks don’t start work at 6:00 a.m.)

Of course we have guys (yes, I’m sure they’re all guys) who make their motorcycles and cars as loud as they can, then rev their engines repeatedly – just to make sure they’re working –before they charge off into the night oblivious to the irritation they leave behind. I once asked a police office if there isn’t a noise ordinance just waiting to be enforced. He looked at me, cocked his head, and asked which crimes I’d place lower on the list of things he should attend to as he chased obnoxious vehicles around town? OK. I get it. But I still believe that eventually noise will become a higher priority than it is now. Maybe we’ll tamp down all other crime and finally be able to chase noise monsters. 

Truck noise is something else again. I don’t know why we can’t require trucks to rein in the noise they make. Some towns have highway signs saying they enforce rules agains certain brakes. Does that work? Do truckers obey such signs? And what about refrigerator trucks that keep their refrigerated trailers cold when the drivers are off eating or partying or who knows where? One more annoyance. 

I could comment on the Navy’s Growler aircraft, but I’m far enough away from them now that they no longer affect me. I learned last year that they their job is to mess with enemy communications, and I want them to do that. But damn those planes are noisy. I’m confident that some future generation will find a way to do their job with less of that bleeping “Sound of Freedom” noise. 

Perhaps the most aggravating noise I’ve heard in the past year was the sound of someone else’s music being shared with the world on a hiking trail of all places. City noise is irritating, but at least it’s in the city where we expect it. It’s bad enough if a group of hikers are yukking it up while hiking, but playing music via a bluetooth speaker when earbuds are the proper way to listen? What the f*ck!!! I’m not on this trail to listen to your music! Do we have to make a rule about not blasting your music to the world? Can you not just know that’s not polite? 

Some noise is inevitable in a city, but I really, truly believe the day will come when we realize that too much noise sets people on edge, and we need to tamp it down. We’ll also realize that the night sky has a calming effect, and we need to find ways for more people to get more of it. I don’t expect to be around when people make darkness and silence a priority, but I know it will happen!

Live Sports are a Great Diversion

Historically, I’ve been a fair weather sports fan. I’ve only watched “my” teams, and then I’ve only watched when they’re winning. This fall, however, I’ve discovered the value of watching live games that aren’t even my teams. Even a loss, if well-fought, can be better than paying attention to the news. 

A bunch of reasons support my recent inclination to watch live games. One, it’s real. Let’s just gloss over the recent news of NBA players possibly cheating. Most games involve actual athletes competing to win. If a game is going badly, they can still compete for a good play. Football and baseball both allow time for high fives and lots of happy jumping around after an especially good play. I swear, it’s contagious. In addition to celebrating good plays, we also get to see some good sportsmanship. Most often, players accept the ruling of umpires and referees. If they don’t, teammates generally intervene to calm things down. This is all proof of games being “real.” 

The alternative to live sports is political posturing. Yes, this is also a game, but it’s a disgusting game. There’s no such thing as good sportsmanship in politics anymore. Colleagues do not intervene when someone goes off the rails. Mudslinging is the name of the game, and with the current trend of challenging election results, insulting judges, slamming through guardrails, and simply making stuff up, the sense of fair play that is evident in live sports is gone completely.

There aren’t even any great personal stories of people who overcame a variety of obstacles to accomplish something good in politics. “Aargh!” you say, of course there are. Just think of JD Vance, or Joe Biden, or… well I won’t go on. Of course there are regular people who’ve become accomplished politicians, passing laws that have benefitted regular people back home. You’re right, there are some. But, seriously, most of them have been corrupted somewhere along the way. Sorry, but I’m with Yesavage, that rookie pitcher for the Blue Jays who pitched an amazing game yesterday. Will he get corrupted somewhere along his way? I don’t know, but for now, he’s gold!

I’ve always objected to the amount of money that goes into professional sports. Money for ballparks, money for players and coaches, the price of tickets, the price of food at the ballpark, the price of parking for a game, the “fan gear,” it all adds up a pile of money that could surely be spent of more important things. And yet, here I am watching. This year, it’s keeping me sane, so thanks to everyone who’s paying for all that. 

College sports are pricey, too. But many of the players are kids who earned good scholarships by developing their athletic talents. I’ve known people who would not have gone to college otherwise, but have obtained graduate degrees and are thriving due to a scholarship for track and field or some other sport. Good for them. Let’s have more of that.

One thing I’ve always hated about live television is the need to live my life around its schedule. I loved it when we could tape shows on VHF, and I love the ability to stream shows whenever I want to watch them. Yet here I am, watching the clock so I can turn on the TV at the right time to watch a game. So retro! And yet, I’m doing it. I must really be in a funk to suddenly, at this point in my life, find myself tuning in to live sports. 

Once in a while, we are able to watch something with friends. Example: a college girls’ volleyball game. Yes, it was intense, and great fun! Another example: local baseball playoffs in a small theater in our apartment building. Great to cheer with some neighbors! A third example: texting silly comments during a game with a friend across the ocean! I like this kind of “in the moment” sharing that just doesn’t happen with politics.

Politics will never be like live sports, but wouldn’t it be great if we could get past the mudslinging, distortions, and outright lies that dominate the political airwaves lately? 

Here’s the Thing about Money

Recently, some ultra rich people made a public statement that they didn’t need the tax cut recently signed by Trump. They might be in the minority of the ultra rich, but I’m certain their sentiment is absolutely true. There is a point at which the only point of more money is to one-up someone else. Your needs – and indeed, your wants – have been satisfied.

We are not there yet. In fact, every time I relax a bit and think we are OK, something happens to shake my confidence. Here’s some history of our financial life. We got married when we were still in grad school. I had a $200/mo. stipend from a fellowship. He had a $200/mo. check as a RA. We paid $80/mo. rent and ate at a corner bar & grill more often than we should have. We saved enough to make a down payment on a basic VW bus, modified it into a camper, and took off most weekends for somewhere. 

We also saved some money for a trip to Alaska on a state ferry. (People could sleep on the deck in those days.) But suddenly, the beloved bus needed an expensive repair and that was the end of our dream trip to AK. Next, he suffered a TBI (traumatic brain injury) in a bicycle race. Suddenly, our minimalist two income lifestyle was a zero income lifestyle. He couldn’t work, and I couldn’t leave him alone. Things eased up a bit when his boss let him come back to work long before he could do anything useful. I started work mid-August for my first year teaching, not knowing that I wouldn’t get a paycheck until October 1. When September 1 came around with no check, I panicked, but we scraped together enough to survive the month. Together, we agreed we needed to keep some money untouched, and we would never, ever build a budget based on two incomes. 

In 1975, Seattle voted down a school levy and laid off teachers. I survived that layoff because the district opted not to lay off any special ed teachers, of which I was one. I survived future layoffs based on seniority because I now had one year over the layoff threshold. Unfair, but hey. Spouse was self-employed during these years, always making some money, but the amount varied from year to year. By this time, we were building a savings account so that we could survive a few months in event of a new mishap. We realized that we had enough money to make a down payment on a house, which we did. Mortgage payment, taxes and insurance was equal to the rent we had been paying. (Life was different back then.) 

We continued to live as a one-income couple despite our two incomes. We made basic improvements to the house, but nothing fancy, and sold it twelve years later at a handsome profit, which we applied to a duplex where we lived in half and rented the other half. After which, we moved to a boat and sold the duplex at a profit. We did not sell the boat at a profit, but we didn’t lose a lot. And somewhere along the way line, a great aunt died, willed some money to my mom who divided it in half and gave my sister and me each $10,000. That doesn’t sound like a lot today, but we didn’t need it at the time and put it into savings. Later, my mom died, and we inherited another sum, again a modest amount that we didn’t need at the time. We bought a new car for $10,000, two tax deferred annuities, and a handful of blue chip stocks just as the market was starting on a huge upward trend. 

Meanwhile, spouse took a job with a paycheck in lieu of the unpredictability of being self employed. His employer had a 401K plan, so when his plant eventually closed, he had a little pile of money to invest. No. We did not buy Microsoft when it went public. Most of our initial investments paid off before they tanked as the 80s blue chips gave way to the 90s tech boom which gave way to the dot com bubble. We did eventually buy some Microsoft, but after the initial investors had made many millions of dollars. We bought Apple at it’s peak in the ‘90s and watched its value plummet on rumors of impending bankruptcy. But Bill Gates bailed out Steve Jobs, and we didn’t sell at the bottom, and now it’s worth a lot more than we paid for it despite its uncertain future re: China.. We lost money in the dot com bust, but came out with enough to keep us afloat.

I’ve read lots of advice about saving for retirement, about renting vs owning, about the 4% rule (theoretically, you can use 4% of your total pile of money each year and you’ll never run out of money). But right now the present is chaotic, the future so unpredictable, that who knows if we’ll be OK until we die. We don’t have long term care insurance. Many friends do, but I just don’t trust insurance companies. Yes, some have benefitted, and it’s a bit risky to be self-insured for what could be massive expenses in the future. We will either be OK or we won’t. Spouse’s opinion is that if we run out of money, the whole world will be a shambles, so we’ll have lots of company. Occasionally, he’s right.

In any event, we got a call last Thursday from the real estate agent who has the listing for the house we want to sell. I really like the house, but we might be the only people who do. It’s been on the market a month, some lookers, right price, but people always have some nit-picky issue with it. The reason for her call was that another agent was showing the house and saw that a toilet was leaking. Water damage. If there are any two words you never want to hear about your house, it’s “water damage.” 

We were already on our way there to pull some weeds, so when we arrived, she explained it all to us. Our handyman is on vacation, so we had to call a real plumber. Simple fix, and $275 later the new part had restored the toilet back to normal. Then I had to call a company that deals with water damage. Good news, they were able to start work on Friday afternoon. The first part, ripping out the damaged bits, will take a few days and a few thousand dollars. The last part will take a few more days and a few thousand more dollars. The house will be “temporarily unlisted” for about two weeks (we hope not more), and will forever be tainted as I suspect word will get around about “water damage.” 

Meanwhile, spouse continues to make coffee in the morning. Also sometimes in the evening as he can’t tell 7:30 a.m. from 7:30 p.m., especially at this time of year. He also takes care of our garbage and our recycles and asks me many times a day what day is it. I still love bumming around with him. So that’s good. 

Well, back to the point about money. It’s great to have some, I’m glad we do, I hope it lasts, and I just wish the damn toilet hadn’t leaked. 

Change Your View

Change your view. Change your point of view. 

Sometimes moving is good for the soul. We are of an age when moving is a huge chore. We have not done the downsizing that anyone our age should have done by now. But we (I, at least) have committed to doing it now. And it actually feels OK. Sorry, mom, but I am parting with some of your things, finally. I wish your grandkids wanted some of these treasures. They don’t, but I’m keeping your favorite knife, and yes, it’s a good one.

Our past addresses include: Seattle: 723 Federal, 742 10th; the pool in Houston, Robinhood in Houston; somewhere in Bellevue; in Seattle: 13th Ave, a different address on Federal Ave, our first house, the duplex, the boat, 59th St apt, 59th St condo; then the Skagit house; back in Seattle: 6501 condo, 1120 Spring, 900 University; briefly Enumclaw; and now Olympia. Eighteen addresses in 58 years. That’s a lot of moving. Our first three apartments were furnished, so we just moved clothes and dishes. That doesn’t seem to be a thing today – furnished apartments, but it was good when we started out. 

Most of our moves had perceptible ambiguities from the outset. They would do for the moment, but there was no sense that they were final. Then we moved to a retirement community that we assumed would be our last and final address. But no. Seven years in, we both felt the need to leave. Part was the neighborhood that had changed so much during our time there. Part was just the realization that I was constrained in uncomfortable ways, part was the fact that it no longer worked for us when my husband gave up his driver’s license. We moved closer to recreation areas that we liked, but we knew it couldn’t be our last address.

It took less time than we expected for us to crave a walkable neighborhood. We had always opted to live in walkable neighborhoods, then we didn’t, and we soon realized that we’d made a mistake. So now, Olympia. And a very walkable neighborhood in Olympia. Across the street from the West Bay of Budd Inlet. Turn left to get to cafes, stores, a bakery,  and a grocery store; turn right to get to free concerts and the farmers’ market. Look south to the state Capitol, north to the Olympic mountains. Can’t drive? Buses are free and easy to access; Uber and Lyft are nearby; there are small stores, big stores, open space and forests and streams nearby. Could this be our last address? Yes, could be, but we’ve learned that we don’t really know for sure. 

So, we have changed our view. What about changing our point of view. Well, as in most places, the chatter I hear here is decidedly one-sided. Granted, I have only met a fraction of the residents here, and I gradually want to engage more of them in conversation. But Olympia, as a community, is perhaps bluer than even Seattle. (Is that possible?) So I might have trouble finding people who inhabit the “radical center,” which is where I position myself. Still, I practice “I Statements” in discussions to avoid making people who want to disagree feel uncomfortable. I suspect there are other centrists who are just too bashful to engage. 

What I always hope to find is someone who is well informed on an issue I know little about (or even on one I know more about) who can talk me out of my leanings, whether left or right, without being obnoxious! “I never thought of it that way,” is something I enjoy saying. Does that seem strange? 

So much about the setting we’re living in now is calming, restorative, just all around pleasant. Will the people be engaging and uplifting? I think so, but I value my online connections in case they’re not.