A Moveable Feast – Kinetic Sculpture

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I have always enjoyed building things, working with my hands.

I am working on a project that is on Kickstarter.com

I like tasks that are born from problems that push me to the edge. Complex, with many variables, high stakes, and requiring thought from diverse fields. I feel like I grow as I solve these.

I like mundane tasks that are repetitive and often monotonous, too. These make my brain quiet and allow me to rest. They also present an opportunity to practice patience and commitment, as the fun stuff isn’t allowed to be appreciated without the drudgery and I know it.

A Moveable Feast is both and is going to kick ass!

Ernest Hemingway wrote A Moveable Feast about his experience in Paris in the 1920′s. “This is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy.” In it, he recalls how every cafe were a buffet of most interesting tales from even more fascinating people. “If the reader prefers, this book may be regarded as fiction”, yet the stories are a memoir of his time there. Paris in the 1920′s!!

We hope to recreate the essence of those glory days aboard a most interesting and unique machine.

My friend Dan Busby, Head Chef for Dinner, certainly belongs in the fascinating people department and I was stoked when he invited me to help build this carnival of metal. A handful of other really cool cats are lending a hand, too, so it’s a lot of fun to get together to figure it all out. Head scratching and laughs abound.

Our concept is simple: Create an art bike that we can pedal around while enjoying a feast. The seats must be comfortable and the table wide enough that our legs and drivetrain can fit underneath. We’ve got a lot of details to hammer out, but we’re making some great progress. We’ll decorate the table with the finest china, ornate chafing dishes, and goblets of wine, and we’ll dine in style. A meal upon the Moveable Feast will never be mundane.

The wheels are completely done. The steering and transmission have been acquired. The final design is making it was to paper.

Building an art bike is expensive. It will probably cost in excess of $4,000 by the time its done and Dan is putting up half out of his own pocket.

Would you be willing to make a small donation toward our project?

Our goal is $2,000. We’ve already raised $1,800 as of this writing and we have over 6 weeks left on our drive. We don’t have to stop at $2K though. What’s cool is that for every bit of cash we raise over our goal means that we get to add extra cool stuff. Think tall candle sticks, doilies, top hats all around, and sound…of course, sound. Massive, beautiful sound!

You get cool stuff when you make a donation, too. A couple of my favorites are $10+ a copy of the recipe book we are writing of meals that will be feasted upon, $40+ a signed copy of Hemingway’s book signed by the builders of the contraption, or $400+ a ride anywhere in Los Angeles with 6 of your friends with dinner served..Hollywood? Downtown? A sunset ride along the boardwalk in Venice?

Here’s a link to our Kickstarter page

Thanks for giving my project a look. I hope you’re smiling.

Talk soon,

Aaron

ps – Real big thanks goes to Syyn Labs for offering space to build, Aaron Industrial Recycling and Aaron Blatt for donating the aluminum rims and various metal, a cool old salt in North Ridge for a good deal on a golf cart and some spare parts, and everyone who has lent a hand or thrown a few bucks toward our cause! Thank you so much!

pps – If you want to help, you can make a small donation. Even $1 helps out

ppps – Did you notice that we’re going to get doilies if we exceed our goal? That makes me so happy.

Monice Dworski Arnold

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Monice Dworski Arnold died at her home in Durham, NC on January 4, 2012, attended by her children as she wished. She was 94; every day of her life was met with optimism and humor.

Born in Rochester, NY in 1917, she was the youngest of six children of Gertrude B. and Maurice Dworski, immigrants from Eastern Europe.

She attended Rochester city schools and graduated from the University of Illinois at Champaign-Urbana in 1941, studying Shakespeare and art history. She was the first girl in her family to attend college, and she made lifelong friends as a member of Alpha Epsilon Phi sorority.

During World War II, she managed and expanded her elder brothers’ businesses and property while they were serving in the military, the first of many unusual endeavors demonstrating her strong work ethic, commitment to family, and keen business acumen.

Monice married Ralph Arnold, MD in 1947 and moved with him to Durham, NC, where they embraced the vibrant academic and medical community at Duke University and had four children prior to Ralph’s passing in 1960.

She fully participated in the civic, cultural, and Jewish life of her adopted hometown of Durham. Monice was deeply devoted to her many volunteer activities, some of which included Beth El Synagogue, Hadassah, the Nasher Art Museum at Duke University, Carolina Theater, and Concern of Durham, Inc.

Fiercely independent, generous, and active until the end of her life, she nurtured friendships across generations and backgrounds and inspired all she met with her irrepressible joie de vivre.

A lifelong learner, Duke basketball fanatic, one time golf champion, social research interviewer, and unique matriarch, Monice was a true original.

She is lovingly remembered by her surviving family: daughter, Louise Davis and son-in-law, Cliff; sons, Andy Arnold, John Van Arnold and daughter-in-law, Donna, James Arnold; grandchildren Elizabeth Racheva and Danail Rachev, Aaron Davis, Benzie van Arnold, and Rachel van Arnold; and great-granddaughter, Kalina Racheva; as well as many nieces, nephews, cousins, and friends.

In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions in Monice’s name may be made to any of the following organizations: Beth El Legacy Fund, Beth El Synagogue, 1004 Watts Street, Durham, NC 27701; Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University, 2001 Campus Drive, Durham, NC 27705; The Carolina Theater, 309 West Morgan Street Durham, NC 27701; and Greenhouse for Girls and Greenhouse for Boys (Concern of Durham, Inc.), 3001 Academy Road, Suite 230, Durham, NC 27707.

2011 Year in Review

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I hope you’ve had a peaceful and productive 2011 and are looking forward to new opportunities in the new year.

The last year of my life has been simply amazing.  I just feel so full of life and am looking forward to amplifying these effects as the new year emerges.

The super duper short version of my going’s on:

  • Fell in love with sailing
  • Joined the citizenship of Burning Man
  • Traveled to the magical lands of New Zealand and Australia for the Rugby World Cup
  • Left Sotheby’s to join Coldwell Banker
  • Started development on 3 pieces of software
  • Directed InternetCE.com in getting approved in California
  • Increased the search ranking position of several companies
  • Agressively pursued happiness

Now for the expanded expanded made for TV version:

  • Sailing – I wrote a lengthy passage here about my latest passion, however this quote from E.B White sums it up:
    “If a man must be obsessed by something, I suppose a boat is as good as anything, perhaps a bit better than most. A small sailing craft is not only beautiful, it is seductive and full of strange promise and the hint of trouble. If it happens to be an auxiliary cruising boat, it is without question the most compact and ingenious arrangement for living ever devised by the restless mind of man–a home that is stable without being stationary, shaped less like a box than like a fish or a girl, and in which the homeowner can remove his daily affairs as far from shore as he has the nerve to take them, close hauled or running free–parlor, bedroom, and bath, suspended and alive.”
  • Burning Man – I shared my thoughts on the event here.  Wiith out hesitation, I feel this event is the most creative, bizarre, welcoming, nonjudgemental, and industrious I have ever known.  I’ll go back.
  • Rugby World Cup – I organized a tour for 9 friends I have played rugby with over the years to visit the footy motherland, New Zealand.  I share all the details fit for print here.  We also spend a bit of time in Australia, which was cool.
  • Real Estate – I left Sotheby’s International Realty, after nearly 5 years, to join Coldwell Banker.  It is safe to say that the company I joined in late 2005 is a very diferrent one that Ieft earlier this year.  I still apreciate the competence and friendship of many co-workers that remain with Sotheby’s and have much gratitude for the opportunity to have worked with them.  WIth all of in mind, I am also thankful to have been invited to join Coldwell Banker and to continue to be called on to advise on the transfer of properties in Los Angeles.
  • Software – With 6 years behind me in the real estate game (lease, residential, land, and commercial), I have realized several opportunities that can be achieved through software.  Although the programs are still in private beta, I am happy to share them with anyone that might be interested.  I sincerely believe that they, independently and collectively, will change the way real estate is traded.  To say that I am excited about these developments is an understatement.
  • InternetCE – Over the past 5 years, I have helped bring my family’s company online.  A major milestone reached this past year was getting approved to sell our courses in the state of California.
  • SEO – Search engine optimization became an interest with the development of InternetCE.  Understanding how to get the most out of Google is important for every business and I find the process very interesting and challenging.   I’ve enjoyed having been able to help several companies achieve more from search and I’m happy to do a free audit for you, if you’d like to learn more.
  • Happiness – Pursuit of happiness has come to the forefront of my focus.  Not to say I haven’t enjoyed my life thus far, but I am putting much more intention into making sure that my actions are aligned with what I know makes me happy. In an effort to plan and record these actions, I created a Life List, which was public when I first wrote it.  I have since redacted it.  Got keep em guessing a little, right?

I am amazed at the surprises life brings.  I am fascinated by the world around me.  I am in love with learning.

“Stay hungry.  Stay Foolish.” ~ Steve Jobs

Here’s to 2012!  Let’s make a good one, shall we?

Take good care,

Aaron

ps – If it’s been longer than you are comfortable with since we last spoke, for pete’s sake, call me!
pps – You are the most important person in this universe.  Don’t lose sight of that.

Rugby World Cup 2011 – New Zealand + Australia

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“You’ve got to get your first tackle in early, even if it’s late.” – Ray Graved

I was a senior at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington and had been playing my heart out on the rugby pitch for 4 years. Two buddies and I had dreams of grandeur, to move to the rugby mother land, New Zealand, to live, love, play for a season or more.

Then we decided not to.

There wasn’t any specific reason not to go, as I recall. The plans just sort of fizzled. The dream did not.

I’m still friends with those two guys, great friends, although our lives are now separated by 1000’s of miles and completely different paths.

A few weeks ago, I called one of them from a beach in that far away land, and the first thing he said to me was, “You finally made it..”

Rugby has been a corner stone of my life since discovering it my first year at UNCW nearly 15 years ago..

I recall having a conversation about football with a fellow that I knew from a neighboring high school my very first day at Wilmington. When our chit-chat subsided, a french fellow beside me asked, “Why don’t you play rugby?”, in sort of a stuffy, heavy, sweaty french kind of way.

That french guy and I would also become great friends, like so many more guys that I would meet on the pitch. Renan Guillou and I would live together all through college and we still keep in touch, even though I’m in Los Angeles and he’s in Panama.

I digress.

Rugby has been a determining factor in where I’ve lived, traveled, and worked. It’s provided an incredible network, personal and professional. It’s opened the door to a relationship with more than one maiden and it’s closed it with a handful more.

I never understood it when I heard old guys say it when I started, “Once a rugger. Always a rugger. You’ll never really be done. Well, not until you’re dead..but even then..”

I fully understand it now.

These days, I feel more often than not, that my body is ready to call it a day. My schedule no longer allows for all of the training that is required to play at the level my heart desires. I’ve become interested in other sports and activities.

Yet, rugby remains.

I get energized when I smell the grass. I get excited to talk about footy with anyone. I get pissed off when I see another bloak play like a jerk on the pitch, especially when they play my position, by running like a sissy or missing a tackle or dropping a pass.  I suppose it stems from jealously that I’m not out there, but who knows.

I simply love the game.  Everything about it.

Rugby is and will always be in my blood.

The pinnacle of rugby competition is of course the World Cup.  The most holy of rugby lands is of course New Zealand.

__________

My neighbor, dear friend, fellow rugger , and owner of the Rugby Travel Company and I went sailing a couple years ago. We were 2 or 8 beers into an epic night when he said that we should put together a tour to New Zealand for the Rugby World Cup.

Sure! It’ll be legendary! Hell Yes!!

The following morning we confirmed our drunken plan and the stage was set.

I would find the guys to make the trek and he would plan all the travel. We would connect with teams in both New Zealand and Australia to play with and join at the pub. Excursions would be booked.

Fast forward to September 2011

In the end 10 men would meet in Los Angeles, coming from all over the United States, to embark on the trip of a life time. All but two, whom we elected an honorary alum, graduated from the University of North Carolina at Wilmington, our graduation dates spanning 14 years. We all work in different fields, from construction to law to software to nuclear reactor auditing..one guy might even by a secret agent man, but he’d have to kill us if he told us.

Marc Ingham
Chris Jaddick
Clayton Wilson
Eric Glasgow
Ron Dean
Ben Andrews
Aaron Davis
Taylor Monavian
Shane Castean
Jason Gruner

Our trip went went on like this..

Saturday 10th – Most of the crew arrive in Los Angeles. I, Aaron, put a few guys up and a few stayed on Simon’s sail boat in Marina del Rey.
Sunday 11th – Play touch rugby with the Beack Boks (primarily a South African group) and members of Santa Monica RFC on the beach in Santa Monica
Monday 12th – Depart Los Angeles
Tuesday 13th – Arrive in Auckland, NZ
Wednesday 14th – Pick up camper vans –> Travel to Rotarua and sulfur lake
Thursday 15th – Attend Russia vs. USA @ Stadium Taranaki, New Plymouth
Friday 16th – Travel to Helensville/Auckland. Stopped to tour Waitomo Glowworm Caves. Stopped to watch New Zealand v Japan at Stadium Waikato in Hamilton. Meet with Helensville RFC (Camp on Helensville Rugby Club Grounds ~ approximately 30 mins from Auckland)
Saturday 17th – Social game with Helensville RFC @1pm. The Helensville Youth Cutural Organization performed a traditional Maori dance and concert (amazing!). Our host family put a lamb on the spit and we watched rugby for the afternoon – Argentina v Romania @ 3pm, South Africa v Fiji @ 5pm, Australia v Ireland @ 8pm.
Sunday 18th – Clayton and Jaddick went deer hunting and the rest of the crew went Contiki fishing on the north eastern shore. Went to a thermal spring that had been turned in a water park..waterslide and all :)
Monday 19th – Return camper vans. Stay in hotel.
Tuesday 20th – Depart Auckland –> Fly to Sydney, Australia (Stay in Hotel)
Wednesday 21st – Big E, Clayton, Taylor and I visited the Blue Mountains (amazing). Others in the crew visited the Sydney Zoo, Opera House, Manly Beach, Bondi Beach…
Thursday 22nd – Tour Sydney
Friday 23rd – Played social game v Petersham Rugby club, Australia’s 2nd oldest club at Sydney University. Watch USA vs. Australia live on big screen.
Saturday 24th – Tour Sydney
Sunday 25th – Depart Sydney –> Fly to Los Angeles, CA

Was I tired of spooning dudes in camper vans? Yes.  Did I nearly kill myself and others driving on the wrong side of the road? Yes.  Did I go bat-shit crazy on the 14 hours flight half way around the world?  Absolutely.

Would I do it all over again?  Damn right!

It was unbelievable!

I’ll spare you..and those involved, to preserve innocence, the intimate details of the journey, as I am a firm believer that those moments belong only to those that experienced them.

However..

New Zealand is a land lost by time. It felt as though a brontosaurus was going to pop out at any moment. If you’ve ever been to the grand canyon, you know the feeling of awe by the shear scope of it all. Think about that and then cover everything with grass. Every thing was so green! Farms and fields everywhere. 15 minutes outside the city and it was as beautiful and peaceful a place as you have ever been. Ever.

And that was just the land.

The people were even better!

Maybe its because it was so damned far away from anything. Maybe it was because we were rugby players. Whatever it was, every person we had the opportunity to meet was so genuinely warm and friendly, it was down right humbling.

They fed us and big belly roll laughed with us. They shared their homes and culture with us. They played great footy and drank cold beer with our entire group.

To think we did it all in the name of rugby!

To watch my country beat the Russians. AWESOME!  To see the All Blacks get their Haka on, LIVE.  AWESOME!  To win against the bookies by a half point spread against Australia, in Sydney. AWESOME!  To earn Man of the Match with two tries and solid tackling against the local side just outside Auckland. AWESOME!  To laugh and trade jerseys and sing songs with the local host clubs.  AWESOME!

Rugby is the great equalizer!

I speak for the entire group, the trip was incredible and I will cherish it for the rest of my life.

Many thanks to Simon Jones and Julie Johnson of Azzurro Travel and The Rugby Travel Company.

Cheers again to the good boys of Helensville RFC and Petersham RFC, with extra special gratitude to Andy Cummings and Adam Dunn.

Lest not forget all of the new friends we found across the pond, til soon, take good care.

“In our country, true teams rarely exist . . . social barriers and personal ambitions have reduced athletes to dissolute cliques or individuals thrown together for mutual profit . . . Yet these rugby players. with their muddied, cracked bodies, are struggling to hold onto a sense of humanity that we in America have lost and are unlikely to regain. The game may only be to move a ball forward on a dirt field, but the task can be accomplished with an unshackled joy and its memories will be a permanent delight. The women and men who play on that rugby field are more alive than too many of us will ever be. The foolish emptiness we think we perceive in their existence is only our own.” – Victor Cahn

Life List

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A trip to the desert, a trip to southern hemisphere, and a rather solemn birthday got me thinking.

I asked myself, “Aaron, what makes you happy?”

So, then I started writing.

Then I searched around the net a bit for inspiration.

Then I played a little basketball, had some supper, wrote some more, and took a nap.

In the end, my friend Danny Dover’s site – Life Listed, was all the inspiration I needed.  He has put together a nice frame work with which to create your own list.

I wrote down all of the experiences that have made me happy in the past.  I also wrote down a bunch of things that I think would be really cool in the future.  I then gave a good measure of thought to when would be reasonable to complete it.

Here is my life list.

Having a list like this where I can see it frequently and also in public will help me with my decision making process.  It’ll be good for making sure the tasks I am doing every day are aligned with the experiences I wish to accomplish in my life.

Burning Man 2011

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It was unbelievable for me.  I will go back.

The people I experienced this conglomeration of ideas and expressions with were brilliant and I’m ever grateful for being invited and so warmly welcomed, especially Doug Campbell.

Our camp, The Institue (camp map), fused the souls of physicists, scientists, writers, software developers, biologists, chemists, painters, doctors, engineers, tradesmen, artists, mathematicians, dancers..free spirits that were driven to express themselves..

The Phage and Langton Labs hosted science talks every night that were standing room only.  False Profit threw one hell of a party on Tuesday.  Flaming Lotus Girls burned it down on Friday.

Langton Labs produced this acclaimed time lapse of the entire event.

Burning Man has 10 Principles, wherein each of its attendees pledge to live by.  The adherence by Black Rock City citizens to these ideals contributed to BM being included in Time Magazines list of Civilization’s 100 Most Important Sites.

I sincerely appreciate this way to live.

  • Radical Inclusion - Anyone may be a part of Burning Man. We welcome and respect the stranger. No prerequisites exist for participation in our community.
  • Gifting - Burning Man is devoted to acts of gift giving. The value of a gift is unconditional. Gifting does not contemplate a return or an exchange for something of equal value.
  • Decommodification - In order to preserve the spirit of gifting, our community seeks to create social environments that are unmediated by commercial sponsorships, transactions, or advertising. We stand ready to protect our culture from such exploitation. We resist the substitution of consumption for participatory experience.
  • Radical Self-reliance - Burning Man encourages the individual to discover, exercise and rely on his or her inner resources.
  • Radical Self-expression - Radical self-expression arises from the unique gifts of the individual. No one other than the individual or a collaborating group can determine its content. It is offered as a gift to others. In this spirit, the giver should respect the rights and liberties of the recipient.
  • Communal Effort - Our community values creative cooperation and collaboration. We strive to produce, promote and protect social networks, public spaces, works of art, and methods of communication that support such interaction.
  • Civic Responsibility - We value civil society. Community members who organize events should assume responsibility for public welfare and endeavor to communicate civic responsibilities to participants. They must also assume responsibility for conducting events in accordance with local, state and federal laws.
  • Leaving No Trace - Our community respects the environment. We are committed to leaving no physical trace of our activities wherever we gather. We clean up after ourselves and endeavor, whenever possible, to leave such places in a better state than when we found them.
  • Participation - Our community is committed to a radically participatory ethic. We believe that transformative change, whether in the individual or in society, can occur only through the medium of deeply personal participation. We achieve being through doing. Everyone is invited to work. Everyone is invited to play. We make the world real through actions that open the heart.
  • Immediacy - Immediate experience is, in many ways, the most important touchstone of value in our culture. We seek to overcome barriers that stand between us and a recognition of our inner selves, the reality of those around us, participation in society, and contact with a natural world exceeding human powers. No idea can substitute for this experience.

Intertwined with and beyond these tenets of Burning Man is an underlayment of it being a do-acracy, whereby you can do anything you want, but YOU will be responsible for that project and YOU will be its champion.  No one else.

I was totally excited about visiting Burning Man for the first time this year and have a policy about being invited to a party – you never go with both arms the same length!  In other words, you bring some thing..given all of the cool things members of my camp had built in past years, I felt obligated to contribute ‘something’.  A bike rack it would be!  Along with the help of Holden Bonwit and Dan Busby and the gracious allowance of space from Syyn Labs, I crafted a rather shoddy portabicicletas .   Hannah Montana high tops and all, it worked.  It worked well and i was pleased.

It collapsed from nearly 3 feet down to approximately 4 inches with the removal of a couple bolts.  Sweet.

I also built a hexayurt.  Using this blueprint, I built a temporary home.  I also added air conditioning.  Using a duct fan, a honda accord air filter, and several angle ducts, my living quarters were a pressurized with clean air all week.

I decorated the inside with christmas lights and covered them and the walls with completely with white t-shirt fabric (bummer I do not have a pic).  A tarp was used underneath the structure and taped on the outside to prevent any dust from entering and carpet softened it up on the inside.  An air mattress with Sesame Street comforter and couple milk crates rounded out my living quarters.

Having the yurt provided a couple much enjoyed benefits:

  1. Dust free, dark, and cool during the day
  2. Warm and insulated from the wobble wobble (bass), to some degree, at night
  3. Refuge when I needed it

Thank you Megan Dobro and Steph Goralnick for capturing these amazing photographs.

Click on the photos to advance the slideshow

and more here – http://www.flickr.com/photos/sgoralnick/sets/72157627620556706/show/

All in all, Burning Man was good for me. Thanks again to all that shared it with me.

Sailing takes me away

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It was about 10:30am and I was losing sight of land, in light of the fog, when I realized I had not checked out any..ANY of the structural integrity.

My heart sank for a few moments as I scrambled from the bow to the stern and back again visually inspecting all of the lines, shrouds, and any other visible bolts that I could find.

From first inspection, everything looked great, however I was over 3 miles from shore and had 27 ahead of me.

Lea, my girlfriend, had gone below to take a nap and I was at the helm alone.

“What on earth had I done?”, I asked myself.

I realized I loved to sail when I met my neighbor and he would take me sailing on his 30′ Catalina over 6 years ago.  It was awesome. He was a master sailor and really knew his stuff.  He is also pretty fun to hang with, so that made the experience even more enjoyable.

Sailing on a bigger boat brought back memories of spending time on Lasers and Sunfish in Boyscouts as a kid.  It also recalled visions of pirates and adventure, as I spent coutnless hours aboard my Dad’s Jon boat in the warm waters of the Cape Fear and making the voyage across the Inner Coastal Waterway around the islands of Wrightsville Beach.

I decided it was something I wanted to pursue more so in December of 2010 I took my Basic Keel Boat certification so that I could charter boats and learned more of the nuances of sailing a small vessel in the ocean.  Passing the course was easy, but I knew that in order to really learn, I must get on the water.

I posted ads on Craigslist to crew on any vessel that would have me and I visited a couple of the yacht clubs to post the same on their community boards.  I also posted an ad in the Mariner, the local marine rag, for Marina Dey Rey, that I was an able crew member and was keen to help on any vessel.

Not one response. Yet..

My anniversary was coming up and to celebrate, I decided to charter a 25′ Cal Jensen sailboat to take to Catalina Island.  The week before, I met with the fellow that owned the boat to take her for a sail.  I wanted to make sure that I could single hand it, as Lea wasn’t a sailor and would rely on me to make it happen.  Everything was easy and I was able to guide her through the water.  We took it out on a Wednesday afternoon.  I gave him $150 deposit and shook his hand, looking forward to taking her out over the weekend in a couple weeks.

On a whim, I posted an ad on Craigslist stating that I wanted to purchase a starter boat, not really sure what might come of it.

On the week before our get away, I got a call.

The fellow frantically pleaded with me to come buy his boat.  He had bought a sail boat at auction in Long Beach the week before and single handed it (sailed alone) to Marina Del Rey.

But that wasn’t the whole story, I would soon learn.

He didn’t know how to sail.  He had no navigation equipment.  It was a small craft advisory.

Ultimately, he spent nearly 40 hours at sea, through the night, as he had missed Marina Del Rey on his trip north and sailed through the night.  He ripped the main sail and finally resorted to calling the coast guard to help him bring it in the harbor.  His plan was to dock it at the public docks and then go find a slip, however he was unable to get a slip due to his own situation, that I am not completley aware of.

In any event, he had 2 days to get it off the public docks (they have a 7 day per month maximum that one is able to keep their boats at the public dock) or else he would have to go back to sea to another marina.

He did not want to go back to the blue water.

I called a dear friend, Don Varner, that I’d been keeping abreast of my goal to buy a boat and he said he wanted in.

He and I met the owner of the vessel on Wednesday afternoon to take her out and it was great.  She seemed like she was in great shape.  A bit dirty, but everything seemed to work fine.  We ran the motor and the engine.  We raised all of the sails.  We jibbed and tacked.  We turned on the lights.  I even took a pee in the commode at sea and it flushed like a charm.

We couldn’t believe it when he said his price, but our trust in him grew when we gave him a penance and he handed us the pink slip at 2pm the next day.

Un-fucking-believeable!  We were out of our heads.

I was approved for a slip at Bar Harbor in Marina Del Rey, which is an older anchorage.  It hasn’t been updated in a many a moon, but it has a pool, and a jacuzzi and a sauna..and its cheap!  Trouble was, we couldn’t move the boat in until we had transfered the title at the DMV, which wouldn’t be open until Monday and the boat needed to be moved off the public dock by 12 noon the next day.  I was hell bent to be gone shortly after sunrise.

Thursday afternoon was spent casually cleaning her up and packing her with any supplies we thought might belong.

Extra rope. Tupperware.  Towels. Basic tools. Binoculars. Flares. VHF Radio.  Topped off fuel cans.  The list grew and we delivered.

Lea would turn up around 10pm that Thursday night with all kinds of tasty food she had cooked for the trip.  Chili from Lauren’s recipe.  Spaghetti. Canned goods and water.  Snacks and PB & J materials.

We were ready!

With my pal, Don, I was the proud owner of a boat!  My first boat :)

She came without a name, so I had no reservation naming her what I wished..

Delphyne

1973 27′ Catalina Sailboat + 4 bags of sails

8hp Mariner Outboard Engine + SeaEV Electric Drive Inboard Motor

Flat screen TV/DVD. Waterproof handheld VHF Radio. Rail BBQ.

Tons of extra ropes.  Tons of extra gear.

The list could be really long, but its fair to say we picked up a solid boat with all grades of extras for next to nothing.

We never did get a chance to wash her properly, so on the way out of the marina @ 8am, I stopped at the fuel dock and gave her a spray with the hose they had laying there.

I would then show Lea how to power the electric drive and stear her, should the worst happen and I fall over board.  I really think it would suck to lose my balance and take a dive only to watch my boat drift away..

She did great and off to the blue water we went.

We relished in the acquisition for an hour or so!  We drank a cup of coffee and bundled up to fight off the crispness of the morning that had rolled in, but that was lifting.  Easing into the comfort of the boat, Lea finally decided to take a nap and went below.

About 30 minutes later, I realized I was in the Pacific Ocean  and had not looked over any of the important stuff on this vessel.  Sure, it looked good and showed well, but could she sail?  Was she fit to travel 30 miles?

I found solace in knowing that while she had suffered a ripped main sail (it was replaced), she did carry the previous owner in a Small Craft Advisory nearly 200 miles with no other damage.  The seas were also calm and I knew how to use the radio, should the unthinkable transpire.

I relaxed.  Then I relaxed some more.  Then I relaxed even more.

It was glorious.

Words can not articulate the experience.

She, the sea, does what she wants, at her will.  I had tools of course, to take advantage of her gifts ~ the current, the sun, and the wind, but I must say that the Dolphins that were swimming along beside and around and underneath our boat are a bit better equipped to work with her force.  It was and is a humbling experience.

I sailed on.

The wind died a bit toward the middle of the morning, thus we motor sailed most of the way, but all in all, Delphyne did nearly her hull speed at 6 knots.  We made the 30 mile passage in 5 hours flat.

After radioing Two Harbors to be assigned a mooring, we nailed it on the first try and were rocking gently in the calm waters of 4th of July Cove 30 minutes later.

We cracked a beer and enjoyed a sandwich.

Life is good!

Then it got better.

The cove was relatively empty, apart from a handful of other boats spaced generously about the cove, however dinghy after dinghy started bringing jolly folks to the yacht club just beyond the stern of our ship.  Then the shore boat brought a whole gang of folks to the party.

Then, “Pilot Skiff”, responsibly carried prize cargo to dock and as she passed, the maiden of the ship casually asked, “Are you guys alone?  Would you like to come to my wedding tomorrow?”

Uhh.  Yeah.  We’ll come to your wedding.  We’ll eat your yummy food and dance to fabulous music and embrace in the joy of a wedding.

However, this would be no ordinary wedding..

We accepted and the bride to be instructed us to be there at 2:30pm in order to celebrate the entire event.

Done!

We rested and ate and enjoyed the silence of the sea.  Lea and I felt at peace with the world.  Its a bit strange the way it feels to be encapsulated in a ship, where one’s bed is nearly at the water line.  For us it felt like home.

I tossed a bit, but got a good nights sleep.

At sun up, I was ready!

I made a pot of coffee using a tea pot and the BBQ Grill, scrambled some eggs and fried some sausage, and heated up some black beans for good measure.  It was a proper breakfast indeed and Aaron was happy.  I then called for the shore boat and he promptly picked me up, such that I could fuel up my outboard and take the small bit of trash I’d accumulated to shore.  I smiled my way through the little village of Two Harbors and bought a few staples from the Camp Store.

Back on the boat, I had a sandwich, read for a bit and fell into a nap.  Wonderful!

I awoke to Lea looking hot in a leotard top and jeans with striking eye makeup.

“What’s gotten into you?  Why so fancy?”
“It’s a pirate wedding and they said to dress the part..”
“Ohh”

I did my best with a a pair of Carhartds, a plaid shirt and one of hers on my head, plus a bit of eyeliner for authenticity and off to the island we went.  Yes, we were under dressed, alas, they prepared for ordinaries like us and before we got off the gangplank to get on solid ground someone pointed out the costume tent.  Much to our delight and surprise, inside we would find everything we needed.  In walked normal people and out walked bonafide pirates!

Up the rest of the dock structure we would meet others from the party and exchange “Arrrrgggggg!!” and “Behold! A fellow scallywag!!!” or “Arrrr Beee Darrrrr”.  It was great..

But we couldn’t quite figure it out.  Why was everyone sooo piratey??

Aaron – “So how did you make your way to the wedding party?”

Anyone I didnt know – “LARPING”

Aaron’s face – “???”

After much prodding, which took them disgruntily away from the moment:

A live action role-playing game (LARP) is a form of role-playing game where the participants physically act out their characters’ actions. The players pursue goals within a fictional setting represented by the real world, while interacting with each other in character. The outcome of player actions may be mediated by game rules, or determined by consensus among players. Event arrangers called gamemasters decide the setting and rules to be used and facilitate play.

This entire group…everyone, were LARPers.  Amazing! The night just took a new turn and it was now on!

The father, dressed as the Dread Pirate Robert’s ‘The Princess Bride’, married the couple.  Cannon’s punctuated the ceremony.  Mead and merriment was to be had by all.  Late into the evening we made our way back to Delphyne a little drunk and very happy with life.  We dance alone on the bow of the boat.  We drank more wine.  We went to sleep..well, I’m leaving out some parts, but you get the idea.  It was grand!

Sunlight would wake us and again, I was ready for the high seas..and she was ready for me.  I left our mooring in haste to find 25 knot winds and 3-5 foot seas, outside the protected harbor.  30 minutes later I would discover that the wind was to much for my old sails and I was developing a a large lateral tear in the middle of my Genoa (head sail).  It must be changed.

“Lea, I’m powering up the engine.  Take the helm and keep us pointed into the wind.  I’m going aboard the deck to change the sail.”

She did a fantastic job while I took the genoa off, stowed it, and replaced it with a storm job.  Everything was just right and as I took my seat at the helm ready to trim the sails, we stopped moving forward.

Fuck!

Turns out, that just before I took the helm, the port side sheet (line that controls the job) had fallen overboard and gotten entangled in my prop.

Not a very good situation.  I was 50 meters from the rocks, unable to sail away in light of my controlling lines around my prop and unable to motor away in light of the same.

Lesson learned: keep lines inside the boat

I called the harbor patrol and they were there in no time flat.  Quickly gave me a tow back to the calm waters of the cove, and even called upon an old friend that was diving nearby to give me a hand to untangle my lines.  15 minutes later we were all good, but ready for a beer none the less.

This particular cove was completely empty and we enjoyed the silence.

The day would pass slow as ever and a solid sleep would follow.

The following morning I was ready for the sea and anything she would throw at me.  Everything, and I mean everything, stowed.  Storm jib hanked on.  Life vests on.  Radio in pocket.  I wasn’t taking any chances.

Seems like the sea knows these things and this time she wasn’t quite so angry.  It was hot and beautiful.  I sailed without motor and 7 hours later we were back in Marina Del Rey.

Since I bought that boat, not more than 3 days has gone by without my greeting her with a smile.  Between responsibilities at work, I read sailing forums and blogs and ebooks on what to do when.

I’ve sailed her in the morning, in the afternoon, and at night.  With lots of friends and alone.  With only by what I see and only by instruments and a compass.  Motored around the harbor and tacked 12 times to get out.  Done man over board maneuvers at sea.

I am completely fascinated.

I told my parents that I intended to sail around this globe in about 3 years about a year ago, so as far as I am concerned, I am on schedule.

I’ve been fortunate to sail aboard Deerfoot II, a 74′ Sloop, with Stanley Dashew.  He’s an inspirational man, both in business and at sea and the boat has circumnavigated the globe a number of times.

I’ve been invited to crew on a race boat.  A ridiculous race boat!  The Wednesday night sailing series sails out of the California Yacht Club and is a ton of fun.  I have to work my ass off and bring beer..tough life.

Bravura is a 44′ Farr.  She’s fast as hell sailing into weather (toward the wind) and usually takes a crew of 10.  Given a rank just above whale shit, I usually get stuck grinding (manning the wenches).  I couldn’t be happier.  The nuances of sail trimming and navigation I am learning being on a boat that wins if we can sail a 1/2, a 1/4, a 1/10th of a knot faster than the next guy is amazing.

As I write this, I am preparing to crew a 54′ Hunter to La Paz, Mexico in 3 days time.  From what I understand, the sail is a dream.  Sailing downhill (wind at one’s back) the whole way with warm water and awesome fishing.  And I get paid to do it.  I can’t believe it.

I never really saw it coming and certainly not so fast.  However, I am learning to know myself a bit better these days and the wilderness and fairness of the sea is something that I resonate with very well.  I am committing myself to becoming a student of her tools.

I look forward to sharing my boat with those close to me and can’t wait to get on the water again soon.

“If a man must be obsessed by something, I suppose a boat is as good as anything, perhaps a bit better than most. A small sailing craft is not only beautiful, it is seductive and full of strange promise and the hint of trouble. If it happens to be an auxiliary cruising boat, it is without question the most compact and ingenious arrangement for living ever devised by the restless mind of man–a home that is stable without being stationary, shaped less like a box than like a fish or a girl, and in which the homeowner can remove his daily affairs as far from shore as he has the nerve to take them, close hauled or running free–parlor, bedroom, and bath, suspended and alive.”

E.B. White

Helping

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It was 6:32pm.

I was sitting at my computer writing.

I heard a small screech, a couple loud thumps, and then a really loud crash as my building shook.

I knew what had happened.  It happens every few days at my house, but just not to this degree.

There was a wreck outside my house on Pacific Ave.

I rushed downstairs and ran as fast as I could around the corner to help.

An SUV had been traveling north on Pacific Ave. had jumped the curb, taken out 2 street signs, a few trees in front of my place and slammed head on into my neighbors house.

No skid marks.  Full on at probably around 50mph, which is how fast the cars travel down this stretch of road.

I was the first person on the scene and I assessed the scene.  The vehicle did not look as though there was fire danger so I approached the car to find the man driver convulsing and seizing, still in the harness.

I got certified as an EMT last year and the training came back quick.  I knew I needed to stop his head from moving as he very likely had a broken neck so I opened the rear door and tried to hold his head to secure his cervical spine.  As I began, other people came over to help and I told the first person, Simon (my neighbor), to take my place so that I could asses him.  We made the transfer and I began to check him out.  He was sweating profusely and bleeding from his forehead.  He began to seize harder and we were unable to hold him still.  He wasn’t responding to verbal or painful (rubbing the chest) stimuli and his eyes we uncontrolled.  Ultimately, his seizures became so violent that we were forced out of the car.  I continued to stay by his side and try to communicate with him as he he came and went.


Ultimately, the paramedics got there and then the cops and then the crash truck and the wrecker and about 30-40 congregated around.  Camera men were taking pictures and traffic was at a standstill on Pacific, where rush hour had it packed to the brim with the entire north bound lane shut down.  They had it under control.

They got him on a stretcher and our of there as quickly as possible.  That made me feel good.  That they were there to help.

I walked back in my house.  I paced in circles for a few moments and I called my roommate to tell him.  My rugby coach called as he had driven past the house and explained in a voice mail “There is wreck in front of your place and I have a feeling you were involved.  Call me back.”  I did and spatted who knows what, but that I was ok.  Another friend text me to see if I was ok.  Reply – Yes, thanks for asking.  I couldn’t catch my breath and I couldn’t sit down.

I needed to get some air.

I started on a walk to the beach and as I walked across Pacific Ave. down the 2 blocks to the sand, I started feeling weird.

I veered from feelings of excitement to sorrow.  I thought about my girlfriend from college that had died while we were dating.  I thought about my loving girlfriend, Lea, that I spend so much time with now.  I thought about how much I love to be able to help.  I thought about how powerless I felt as there was nothing I could do when.

I needed to walk more.

I took a seat on my favorite bench as the sun was setting over the pacific ocean and took a few deep breaths.

I thought about my mom and my sister and her baby and my dad.  I thought about Lea.

I thought about how there was nothing that could’ve changed the events that had just taken place.  It was determined that he started having a seizure while driving, jumped the curb and never hit the brakes as he hurled his truck into the house. Nobody at fault.  No one to blame. A seizure.

What if someone had been waiting at that bus stop, like they do all day long.  What if someone had been walking across the street. What if the girl in the house that he hit had been close to that wall?  What if instead of veering right, he had gone left into oncoming rush hour traffic at 50 mph?

The thoughts made my stomach turn.  I thought it was good no one else got hurt. I thought that he likely could die from the injuries he had just suffered and that was not good.

“Is there anything else I could’ve done?”, I asked myself.  I didn’t like asking that question.

I called my Mom and as the first ring started, an angel appeared.

I met Whakapaingia David Luke 6 years ago when we both joined Santa Monica Rugby Club.  We won our first of back to back national championships that year and we probably spent 6 out of 7 days together.  Eating, training, partying, praticing, traveling..living together and we became fast friends.  I was there the afternoon he met his wife on the beach and I was in the house to help deliver his daughter.  To say he is a brother is an understatement.

Right when I needed someone to talk to that could hear me, in spite of my uneasiness and discomfort, there he was.

As I dialed my Mom, I looked up and Lucky, as his rugby buddies affectionately call him, said “Fancy seeing you here” with a great big smile behind the stroller a beaming Tahi, his darling daughter.

I wanted to cry.  I wanted to hug him.  I wanted to kiss his little girl.  I wanted to be alone.  I wanted to be next to my friend.

I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted..

But seeing him made it all better.  We talked for a while and retreated into my favorite restaurant, where I eat nearly every day for breakfast, but had never visited at night, and had a beer.  He called his wife to meet us and she was on the way.

He spoke to me as my friend.  While about 90 minutes had passed since I first heard the loud crash, I was only starting to realize the progression of time..that is, the time where we live.  Minutes are minutes and hours are hours.  For the past hour and a half, it had been a blur.  Lights..sirens..cars..horns..people, of all stripes, coming..going..looking..walking..muttering.

In all the words of empowerment he told me as he bounced his little girl on his knee, I only remember one thing.

“The universe doesn’t make mistakes.”

It made me feel better.

If I could have chosen anyone in the world to show up at that precise moment, it would’ve been him.  His smile and his overtly positive persona.

Perhaps the universe doesn’t make mistakes..

I felt I should probably call my Mom back, as she would’ve seen the phone dial earlier.

In speaking with her, her voice eased me.  Her tone and her tangible concern could be felt.  We talked about hope and loneliness and the path of a warrior.  We talked about how part of what makes me, me, is that it was my only instinct to run as fast as I could to help.  She went on to remind me that while that has great value, it comes at a tremendous price, for I would always be there first to witness the bad as well.  That was part of the deal but that I was equipped to deal with it.

My life has been always been full of the “front lines”.

We shared a laugh and she closed a much needed conversation with a quote from Emily Dickinson:

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune–without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

I felt put back together.  I felt capable and proud of myself, however still drained from the experience.

I walked back to my place with Waka, Sara, and little Tahi and made small talk.  Soon after we got home, Chris got home as well and we all shared inthe joy of watching an 8 month old look around the room and giggle.

Life.

Waka and his family soon left and Chris and I had a chance to talk.

Chris’s Mom was an ER nurse so he has first hand knowledge of the effects of witnessing human suffering and sickness.  We sat down for a few minutes and he eased me with his advice.  He always has a way of rationalizing things.  Breaking them down into separate parts so that they are more manageable.

We talked about accepting life and all that comes with it is in fact a part of life.  How accepting that fact can help one to understand and move positively through events such as those that just took place.  We talked about how part of my purpose in being able to help was “just being there at the man’s side, so he wasn’t alone.” We talked about how being emotional in the face of emergencies is important, especially when it involved another person.

Him talking to me was calming and comforting.

I suppose his ability to be a great listener and willingness to give sound advice is part of the reason I call him one of my best friends on this earth.

Its been nearly 5 hours now. I’m calm and tired. Drained.

I hope the fellow is OK.

I feel thankful for my Mom and my friends and my girlfriend and my rugby coach and little Tahi and this world.

I’m thankful I was able to help.

Morning

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It used to drive my Dad mad. Simply crazy! He was always a morning man, waking up at ‘O:dark, thirty’ before the rest of creatures began to stir. Grand Dad had similar ideas. He would proclaim that getting a jump on a long drive was good to do before the sun came up, ‘That night time dark air makes the engine run cooler..’

I, on the other hand, have
always been a night owl. Even when I were tired, I still had chutzpa to stay up to the wee hours.

That has changed. Some what..

I get up early now. I love to take walks before I do anything. Well, not anything, but most things. I get out of bed, put in my contacts and brush my grill piece, take my vitamins and drink a protein shake..and then go for my walk.

I live a couple blocks off the beach in Venice, CA and if you’ve ever visited, you know that the boardwalk is a bit gritty a lot of the time. No, no, I’m not complaining! I love the salty characters that mingle and mix on and around the colorful strip. I fit in and it makes me not feel so damn weird for having a mohawk or an ear ring or funny shoes or doing yoga poses admist the piano man and the guy on stilts or the lady that’s telling fortunes. I suppose I was made to live here..

Returning from digression, whilst I love the bustle of the boardwalk, in the morning its empty. Its quiet and its soft. The hard edges have yet to wake up and the day is fresh.

Waking up early allows my mind to boot up. My heart gets primed for a good day and the bits of oil that smooth my joints is well received. By the end of my 15 walk I’m ready to tackle the world..and yet, although I made a solid table of breaky this morning to kick it off right, its only 7:36am

Onward and upward!

Never mind “On The Air’, I’m thinking about the down time..

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I have been a salesman my entire life.  You can read a bit more about the history in that regard here, or if you know me, you know that to be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

In any event, lately, I am honored to be working for BizeeBee.com in Business Development and Sales.  That means that among other things, I am required to speak to quite a few good folks on the phone sharing the benefits of how our software can make running a Yoga Studio much simpler while retaining more students.

If you have ever done phone sales before, you know that some times it can be difficult to find a groove and get on the phone and more importantly, stay on the phone for extended periods of time.  When I first started in sales via the phone I would try to monitor my “On The Air’ time in an effort to make the most of my day.  This can be a good method, but I’ve found something that helps me a bit more.

Monitor the time I am not on the phone.

It’s a pretty simple process.  I set up sprints for myself lasting 50 minutes to make calls and I set my phone to lock the screen after a minute.  Thus, after I hang up on a call, I have exactly 60 seconds to make another call before it locks.  In the event it locks, I owe myself 10 pushups.

They add up. Quick.

I tally the number of times this happens and at the end of the 50 minute sprint, I crunch out the number of push ups I’ve accumulated.  My shoulders are thanking me for the exercise, but that’s not the point.

The result is being ever aware of my down time, thus I end up spending more time on the phone spreading the good word.

Onward and upward!