24 squares down the line

These days, it seems I measure the passage of time more with a spreadsheet than with a calendar. The budget dictates everything.

Two years ago this month, I started down the path of getting out of debt. May 2010 was the first time in my life I put all my debts down on the page. It was the first time I looked critically at how much I made, how much I owed and what my minimum obligation was to each creditor for the month.

It was a bleak picture. I owed more money to creditors than the average one-person median household income for Oregon in 2010.

I could not keep my head above water some months. There was not much, if any, wiggle room. It was ridiculous. I was making too much money to be so broke.

Now, 2 years in, I have paid off almost half of that debt. I've paid more than $24,000 and zeroed out the balance with 6 creditors. I averaged paying off $1,000 a month in principal, which is pretty incredible, given that those first months the money was almost entirely eaten up by interest. My debt snowball barely qualified as a snowflake.

Unless fortunes change, for good or ill, there is still a bit more than a year and a half to go.

Some days -- the bad days -- it seems like I will never get there. I want to give up. I am tempted to give in and go back to spending money on credit. Every piece of footwear I have is tattered and most are so worn out they can't be worn out of the house, with holes in the soles and severe scuffs. My car is many months and many miles overdue for an oil change. I need things. I want things. I want a real vacation and a new iPod and, well, let's just say there is a whole list I've been compiling of things I want.

Other days -- the good days -- my spreadsheet shows me how far I've come. I can see that there are fewer days of debt ahead than behind. I am beyond the halfway point. I am actually looking forward to calling up Chase in a few month and canceling that account, which reamed me with its obscene interest rate. They won't be collecting much more interest from me. And never will again. That will feel so good. Perhaps only paying off the last debt will feel better.

Price and value are not the same thing

I saw this March 3 Annie's Mailbox advice column today. I liked the advice Kathy Mitchell and Marcy Sugar offered to "Perplexed in the Midwest," but people like "Perplexed" could use a little more information when choosing an engagement ring.

Perhaps it's not too romantic to think about the practical aspect of money when trying to buy a ring intended to tell the woman you love you want to spend the rest of your life with her. It's hard to put a price on that. But people need to know that jewelers do put a price on our sentiment and they inflate it far beyond its value.

That's where I take issue with Mitchell's and Sugar's advice to "Perplexed." They use the word "value" in their response. That's the wrong word. If you buy an engagement ring retail, whether it is diamond-jeweled or sports a simulated stone, the price you pay will only have a fractional relation to its financial value.

Depending on where you get your information, retail markup of jewelry, particularly in mall stores, is commonly 300 percent or more. I've written several posts on this blog (search engagement ring if you are curious) detailing the prolonged and financially frustrating process I went through to try to sell a ring a few years ago after a failed engagement. I'm not sure if I confessed that I got about one-fifth of the original price of the ring after it was sold on consignment.

So, if you are thinking of buying an engagement ring, don't be afraid to compare prices. You might also want to consider shopping at a store that specializes in estate or consignment jewelry.
Precious metals and jewels are expensive enough (have you seen the price of gold lately?). Do you really need to pay three, five, 10 times beyond what jewelry is really worth?

You can't put a price on love and no one who buys an engagement ring ever expects to have to recoup their costs. That's not what buying an engagement ring is about. But you don't have to pay hugely inflated markup for what will be an expensive purchase, no matter what. Making a smart purchasing choice will get you a far better value and leave more money in your pocket to start your life together on the best financial footing. It's hard to have happily ever after when you start off by pissing away, let's say, $5,000-plus for something that is really only worth about $1,000.

Mitchell and Sugar are right. A man shouldn't lie to his prospective bride about the type of stone in a ring. But prospective grooms shouldn't buy the lie that that ring in the shiny display case is really worth its obscenely bloated price tag. If she's worth spending 4 or 5 or 6 digits on, then shop around and get her 2 or 3 or 5 times the ring for the same price. You may find that cubic zirconium can transform into a diamond right in front of your wallet.

Maybe this means the Terrible Twos are over

I knew it was coming up, but wasn't really thinking about it. But when I checked the date after work, I realized the date had already past -- the third-year anniversary of Digital Fishwrap.

It's not like it's one of the most significant dates on my calendar. There are holidays and birthdays and other people's anniversaries that are far more important. But if I were to be completely honest with myself, the start of this blog has been a significant factor in my life.

The blog got me writing again. It got me exploring feelings, even under the guise of ignoring them. I have enjoyed the exercise and ignored the obligation in turns. I've needed the release and needed the breaks too.

I was proud to write daily posts (sans Thanksgiving) for Novembers National Blog Posting Month. And I'm a little ashamed I've only written 6 (now 7) posts in the first 18 (now 19) days of this months. And I'm flat out disappointed that my Technorati rating has plummeted to a 1, even as I've gotten better at making posts and exploring new topics. I tell myself this was never about having a popular blog, but the very nature of a blog is to be public and get some feedback -- some interaction -- from other people. The problem is, I don't play the blogging game very well. I don't check other blogs sites religiously, like I once did, and leave comments on their posts to interact with them (and secretly hoping they would come check out my blog too and become regular readers).

So I guess I can live with the low ranking. Hell, I can even take it off the site completely I suppose (and just may). In the span of three years, there have been a lot of changes to the blog, including changes in jobs, cities and aspirations. It's not what it once was. It's more. And less.

Like a first love, it's special to me in a way no other web venture could be and like that first loved it has been a source of disappointment and unfulfilled potential due to naivete.

This blog is me, for better or worse, and I'm woven through it, as are all of you who take the time to read and especially those of you who have taken the time to comment.

I never really expected this experiment to last this long. It was a momentary diversion and a way to dabble into new and ever-changing technology. And now the moment has lasted three years.

Last year I didn't make note of the anniversary. I had no posts for the month of December at all. But two years ago I noted some of my favorite posts from my first year. Those are still probably among my favorites. The posts have been more infrequent in the last two years, but in honor of the third anniversary of Digital Fishwrap, here are dozen more posts I am proud of:

Parenting by MSN Messenger
An intimate birthday gift from Sheryl Crow
Now I do have to thump on Lance Armstrong
Do you think these guys vote?
My brown-eyed girl
I didn't shave my head for this
Oregon: Come for the natural beauty, stay for the majority Caucasian population
Prom corsages, birthday candles and hazard lights
They eat their young, and not so young
Grandma, I'm coming home
Life is decidedly not fair
Today, God cut the apron strings

Thanks for sharing part of the anniversary week here at the Fishwrap. And to other bloggers out there, thanks for being brave enough to share your opinions on issues and your experiences with others. And for those of you listed in the Blogroll in particular, thanks for sharing so much of yourselves with me over the years and inspiring me to want to be not just a better writer, but a better person.

Salute to veterans and a new milestone

Eighty-seven years ago today, on the 11th hour of this 11th day of the 11th month in 1918, World War I ended. About 20 years later, Congress finally got around to making the day a federal holiday, then known as Armistice Day. Sixteen years later, in 1954, the name of the holiday was changed to Veterans Day to honor all veterans, including those from World War II and Korea.

Congress, being Congress, decided in 1968, in the midst of the Vietnam war, to move Veterans Day to October. That went over like a lead balloon, but it was easier to get American troops out of Vietnam than it was to fix that date problem. It took another 10 years for the date to be moved back to Nov. 11 in 1978.

Today we honor all veterans of service from those wars and the additional conflicts of Grenada, Iraq I, Bosnia, Somalia, Afghanistan and Iraq II as well as those who served during times of peace.

The only time I've ever worn a military uniform was as a kid, after finding my dad's old stuff from his days as a Marine when he was not much more than a kid himself. I used to love wearing his field jacket with his, and thus my, last name on the patch above the pocket. I also liked wearing his khaki shirt with the private first class stripe on the sleeve. He wasn't in the Marines very long. A knee injury earned him a medical discharge. And I've never heard him tell stories of boot camp or any other service lore. No Semper Fi stickers ever adorned our cars. It was like a closed chapter in a book lost on the back of the bookcase.

Others in my family served as well. One of my dad's brothers was in the Army, part of the time spent in the Big Red One and he served at least two tours in Vietnam. His old foot locker, with mementos of his military service, is now in my dad's possession. I would have loved to have my uncle tell me the stories behind all the photos and plaques and papers in there, but he died a couple of years ago. Some of my most treasured possessions as a child were the insignias off of one of his uniforms that he gave me after he retired.

I had a cousin in the Navy during Vietnam as well. Another uncle, my mom's brother, was in the Navy after Vietnam.

We weren't what you would call a military family. Just a pretty average American family of modest means and sometimes that meant some of the best opportunities for young men in our family involved working for Uncle Sam.

In many ways I was pretty lucky. I was one of the few people in my extended family to get a chance to go to college. I briefly flirted with the idea of joining ROTC, and had many friends in college who did join up to either pay for school or to chase a dream of becoming a military pilot. I had that dream as a kid, but never had the eyesight or the physical prowess to pursue that dream. And once I got to college and learned that everyone pursuing a career as a jet pilot was studying engineering, which I had never even heard of before reaching campus, it was pretty clear I was out of my element with the spit-and-polish crowd.

I'm not great at blindly following orders either. I have a nasty habit of asking why, which could have led to trouble before ever earning officer's bars. And I can't say I have always understood why our nation's leaders send young men and women in to places where the odds of getting killed, and the necessity to sometimes kill, is a daily fact of life. But I have an enduring awe of military aviation and deep respect for the men and women in uniform.

I remember when Operation Desert Storm began. It was not long before my daughter was born and I used to spend hours glued to the TV watching CNN and other news network's coverage of a war on the other side of the globe. I couldn't believe that my generation, in the latter part of the 20th century, was engaged in a war.

Today, I have a couple of friends who are lieutenant colonels in their respective branches of the service. One has served in Iraq, the other will be deployed in the near future to Afghanistan. I wish it were not so, but I am proud that they have gone, or will go, nonetheless.

Today I salute those future veterans, and all the other men and women serving with them and who have served before them for their service.

***

On another note, sometime today, in all likelihood, a milestone of sorts will be reached on this blog. Someone today will be the 8,000th visitor. I've turned on the visible counter so whomever is the "lucky" 8,000th visitor will be able to know they have made that milestone visit.

I'm not sure what to make of this "milestone" though. I never started this site to be popular, but 8,000 visitors in 11 months seems pretty underwhelming. When the Fishwrap was born, it was partially as self-therapy and it was partially to get me back writing again.

So I'm not sure where to go with this thing from here and I'm looking for your help. There is a small but loyal cadre of people who visit here virtually daily. I have to say that amazes me. The question is: Why? What is it about what you see here that you like? That keeps you coming back? And equally important, what suggestions would you have on what you would want to see going forward?

If you are so inclined, let me know which posts on here you've liked. I've always wanted to have a "greatest hits" section on here, but I have very little idea which posts are "hits" and which ones are misses. OK, I have a pretty good idea which ones are misses. Maybe that's what I should do, have a "greatest misses" section. That might be funny.

I life funny.

Anyway, I hope you all have a great Veterans Day and thanks for spending part of it at the Fishwrap.

Veterans Day
Milestones

Much too old to feel this damn young

Forty years ago today, in the predawn hours, I made my entrance in the world and I’ve been working to fuck it up ever since. How 'm I doing so far?

Milestone dates offer an opportunity for reflection and I am not immune to looking back in the rear view mirror to see what there is to see.

The world has seen a lot of changes in those 40 years. During my lifetime the bulk of the Vietnam war was fought. Man walked on the moon for the first time. Computers went from being the size of rooms to being so small you can carry them in a briefcase or the palm of your hand.. Televisions went from being large pieces of furniture with small black-and-white picture tubes to flat color monitors you can hang on your wall. An American president, Richard Nixon, resigned in disgrace over the cover up of a burglary with a political motive. Telephones when from being a luxury in a home to being a fashion accessory adorning people’s belts and pocketbooks and all too frequently held up to their heads while driving down the road.

The King of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley, got married, made a musical comeback, got divorced and died all within the span of about 10 years. Disco came and went. And music went from being something you listened to, to something you watched, to something you could carry around on a little device not much bigger than a cigarette lighter.

The great communist threat, the Soviet Union, crumbled and the Cold War ended, only to be replaced with a lot of smaller, hotter skirmishes around the globe. Civil rights became a reality, but bigotry still remains. The dream of all men (and women) being equal in America is closer to being realized today than ever before and still too far from real for those black or Latino or poor or gay or female or some other of ethnic or social minority here in America.

It’s a bit humbling to learn that men who had an impact on the world during my lifetime did so by the time they were the age I am now and many of them had made their exit from life’s stage at an all-too-young age.

Civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated at the age 39. Robert Kennedy was assassinated at the age of 42 during his campaign for president. Elvis was 42 when he died. John Lennon was 40.

That is not to say that I am particularly thinking about, or consumed with, thoughts of mortality on this day. I’m not worried about the end, nor am I afraid it may be close at hand. I don’t know if my best days are behind me or yet to come. But I do think that the days keep getting better, more fulfilling.

I used to wonder a lot about what my destiny was and what my legacy on this earth would be, but I’ve come to realize that if I achieve not one more thing in this world, I leave a proud legacy in my daughter, who is now 14. She is my greatest source of joy and pride. I am fortunate to have played a part in giving her life, but she has most certainly changed my life for the better. More importantly she has made me want to make life better for her generation, even if it’s only in some small way.

Over the years I’ve been fortunate to experience the love of family, friends and of a good woman – and a few bad ones too.

It’s not world peace, but it’s not a bad gig either.

So, thanks for stopping by today and putting up with my rambling, disjointed post. It’s hard to put 40 years into perspective. I think my dearest Brat did a better job with her post today, although don’t believe everything you read over there. Thanks Brat for the kind things you said and as for the rest, I’ll get even.

And thank you for stopping by today.

By the way, here are a few other folks who were born on Oct. 17 over the years:

Jupiter Hammon, the first published black U.S. poet (1711); one of Marilyn Monroe’s husbands, the late author and playwright Arthur Miller (1915); the late actress and screen siren Rita Hayworth (1918); Robert Craig Knievel, better known as motorcycle stuntman and daredevil Evel Knievel (1938); Actress Margot Kidder (1948). Some of the other celebrities and notables who have birthdays today are actresses Marsha Hunt, Beverly Garland, Julie Adams; actors Tom Poston, Michael McKean; George Wendt, Bill Hudson, Sam Bottoms, Norm Macdonald; singers Earl Thomas Conley, Jim Seals, Gary Puckett, Alan Jackson, Marshall “Eminem” Mathers, Wyclef Jean and Ziggy Marley.

Not a bad bunch of Libras to be associated with.

Milestones
Birthday
Middle age
Over the hill

The right to remain seated

I attended my daughter's eighth-grade graduation this evening with several members of her family. I was very proud. My little girl will start high school in the fall. Pretty amazing.

At one point in the program they asked the parents of several of the students who are the last in particular families to graduate from this private school, or those who were the parents of only children. My daughter was one of those mentioned. I didn't stand up though. It didn't feel right for me to do so. Not that she would have seen from where she was sitting. And maybe none of the rest of the family would have thought anything about it, but they also didn't suggest I stand either. I just didn't feel like I'd quite earned that honor of recognition. It may be one of those moments that nags at me for years to come, but I just sat there, feeling a bit out of place, like I was in limbo or in another dimension of parenthood that isn't quite recognized here in this plane of reality.

I'm just glad I was able to be there for her and support her on her special day. Afterward we went out for a celebratory family dinner.

On the moving front, I finally got clearance on the criminal background check for the apartment complex I applied to live in earlier this week. I guess my criminal past is acceptable enough for them to take my money every month. So, Thursday I will go give them a check and pick up my key and start the arduous process of getting my stuff back out of storage and into my new place. Hopefully, by the end of the weekend I will be settled enough to at least pretend I have a life again. Whether I will have Internet access or cable TV remains to be seen. And who can live without those necessities in the modern world?

Milestones
Parenthood
Moving