Holy Triangle

Class-Coffee-Beer TriforceBack in college I had what I called the “Holy Triangle”: the three places I spent the bulk of my day. There was Espresso Royale Coffee, Berkey Hall and a bar called the Peanut Barrel. It was a 30-second walk between each of these places, and I spent my days going back and forth between the three.

I would usually start by going to class. If I had my druthers, I would have started with the coffee shop, but I never seemed to get up early enough. So instead I’d stumble into class half-awake, listening to my professor diagram noun phrases in Spanish. Somehow I managed to stay awake long enough to stumble back across Grand River Avenue to get myself a coffee.

At Espresso Royale, I would buy a brew and sit on the patio. When it was too cold to sit outside (which it usually was), I would sit in a little enclosed “garage” instead. I call it a garage because it had a full width garage door that they could raise or lower with the weather. It was always open at least a foot, so that the smokers could still legally smoke. Despite the cigarettes, I still liked this little garage, since the ventilation was good enough to keep it from getting stagnant.

After working on my homework and chatting with friends (mostly the latter), I would head back across the street for more classes. Sometimes I would have burgers and beers at the Peanut Barrel, though I rarely ever drank before going to class. I can’t say the same for my classmates. I remember this one evening class in Berkey Hall. It was two hours long, with a ten minute break in the middle. Sometimes, on nights when the prof was being particularly dry and boring, some of my classmates would run over to the Peanut Barrel for a round of shots. I couldn’t bring myself to drink in the middle of class, but there were nights when it would have helped.

While I wasn’t the time to booze during a lecture, I wasn’t opposed to knocking a few back after class. This was especially true when the weather was nice. The Peanut Barrel had the best patio in East Lansing, right on the sidewalk of East Lansing’s main drag. It was especially great in the springtime, when all the coeds shed their winter layers. Suddenly, there were beautiful women everywhere, after months of hiding out in the cold Michigan winter.

To this day, I like a good coffee house and a good pub to while away my time. There’s nothing I like more in life than an evening on the patio with a some pints and some friends.

 

Shots in class
Smoke-filled garage
Can’t carry in drinks

Playing Office

Playing Office Monopoly

Are you working. or are you playing office?

There are an awful lot of office workers out there who “play office”, like a little kid imitating her parents. This is a subtle and pernicious form of what Steven Pressfield calls “resistance”. What makes it so terrible is that, unlike checking Facebook or chatting with coworkers, it feels like real work, even for the people who are doing it.

So what is playing office? Playing office means going through the motions. It means focusing on the policies and procedures. It means talking rather than doing. If you’re making copies in triplicate, you’re probably playing office.

Don’t get me wrong, bureaucracy exists for a reason. You’re never going to get away from meetings and documentation. But if you can, get away from those who make such things the sole focus of their careers. At the end of the day, only real work matters. Playing office is just a way to waste time, and not a very fun one at that.

The Layover: Hurry Up and Wait

Welcome to Newark SignLike most people, I hate waiting rooms. While doctors’ offices and DMVs come directly from the bowels of Hell, there is also another kind of waiting that is more akin to the Christian concept of Limbo. I’m talking about the layover.

I’ve had my share of layovers throughout the years. The best by far was an overnight in Honolulu, where we ended up in a penthouse suite overlooking Waikiki Beach. However, I’m not sure if this really counts as a layover. It was more of a very brief vacation. A true layover means never leaving the airport terminal.

Last Christmas, I bought last-minute tickets to visit my parents in Vermont. I got a pretty good deal on the price, but the layover sucked. Six hours wandering around Terminal C of Newark Airport. It was three days before Christmas, and it was hard to even find a seat. It wasn’t the worst layover ever — not a by a long shot— but it’s pretty typical of what you have to put up with nowadays.

US Highways: Consistently Inconsistent

US Highway 75 Freeway signThough I love Route 66, I’m not a big fan of modern US highways. They’re unpredictable. Whenever you see a blue Interstate shield, you know what you’re going to get. Even if the road itself is in bad shape, you know you’re going to get at least a four lane freeway with speed limits of 55+ mph. But when it cones to US Highways, you can get anything from a two lane blacktop to an sixteen lane thoroughfare.

US Highway 287 Business signUS 287 is a good example of the problems with the US Highway system. Connecting Dallas to Denver, this road cuts through some desolate parts of North Texas. In fifteen different sections, it is built to freeway standards. But every once in a while, the speed limit drops from 65 to 25 as it passes through some half-abandoned town. Many of the towns along this route are ghost towns in every US Highway 51 Toll signaspect but one &mdash the police station. These obvious speed traps are the only source of revenue holding such towns afloat. Perhaps if they were all bypassed by a freeway-quality road, at least some of the towns would start to come back as edge cities, maybe even tourist attractions. They might also die, but it would still be better than a modern police station surrounded by hundred-year-old ruins.

US Highway 66 Scenic signOf course, in this economy, it’s going to be a while before we see these roads upgraded, or even repaired. But there is a stopgap solution. Instead of using the same white shield for all types of highways, why don’t we expand the color palate a bit. For example, US highways that are up to freeway standards could use a blue shield, similar to what we use for interstates, but without the red bar across the top. Roads that cut through towns could use green shields, like we use on interstate loops and spurs. Finally, scenic and historic highways could use brown shields, since we already use brown signs to denote parks and recreation. White US highway signs would remain ambiguous, allowing existing signs to remain standing without a change of meaning. This way, they could be phased out gradually, whenever the money to do so became available.

Are there any other colors we would need for this plan? Do think it’s a good idea? Let me know in the comment section.

The Auction

U-Haul Ship

There's no such thing as a U-Haul Ship

When moving to the South Pacific, you can’t just load up a U-Haul truck and drive there. Everything’s got to go by plane or by boat. This gets expensive, so you have to learn how to edit your possessions down to a bare minimum. So before we moved to Samoa, my family had an auction.

We sold almost everything: the couch, the beds, the dishes and even the cars. All of it had to go. We’ve never had many heirlooms in my family, so that made it easier, but truth be told, it was hard.

The most difficult part for me was the books. Back in the day, I was a huge Barnes & Noble junkie. I had so many books, heavy books that weren’t worth shipping to Pago Pago. These were books that I had spent $20-$40 on, with a resale value of a quarter a piece. Most of my material possessions meant nothing to me, but seeing my books sold by the bin was almost unbearable.

It was difficult saying goodbye to my things, even though they were just things, but we did have an ace in the hole. We had an auctioneer. All we had to do was get up early and help him and his staff drag everything out onto the lawn. Then we could head out for a few hours, return to an empty house, and pick up a check. Don’t get me wrong, it was still pretty hard, but at least I didn’t have to see my favorite book sell for a dime. I didn’t have to worry about the breakdown, just the final value.

Even if you’re not moving overseas, I’d recommend regularly selling your worldly possessions. It’s just stuff, after all. The real pleasures in life come from people and experiences. So every time I’m tempted to buy more stuff, I think of the auction and remember what’s truly important in this world

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