New commute

Last week my company opened a new Austin office. I made the commute for a week and then over the weekend, I decided to finally try something that I’d been putting off for years: trying Austin’s Capital Metro bus system to travel the 11 miles from our house out in the ‘burbs to the heart of downtown. After doing a little poking around on CapMetro’s website, I plotted my route (which isn’t much of a route considering it’s a 1-way “flyer” route with no transfers and limited stops from my neighborhood to downtown).

I started this week off with my first experience riding the bus to work. I have to say, it was quite a pleasant experience. The ride was smooth, seats were comfortable, no one on board was licking windows and the ride took the same amount of time had I driven it myself, at a fraction of the price.

According to Commute Solutions, my monthly commute costs are ~$350. I’m not sure how accurate that is considering I don’t have a car payment and my downtown parking is paid for by the company, but once you factor in maintenance, gas, insurance, wear & tear, it’s not hard to see how expensive commuting to work actually is.

Bus fare for the Flyer is $1 each way (and I think it’s even less if I buy a 31-day pass, which I’m thinking I’ll do this week). The drive time is the same and I don’t have to contend with the stresses of rush hour. I can sit back, relax and enjoy the ride by just looking out the window, opening my laptop or reading a book.

To me it’s a win-win-win-win. I won’t be incurring the costs of a commute, riding the bus is more environmentally friendly, the difference in commute time is nonexistent to negligible and, most importantly to me is the alleviated stress of the commute. It’s amazing how quickly I realized the commute was putting me on edge. The commute on the bus allows me just the right amount of time for some much-needed downtime.

I’m thirty-five and officially old

Ever since having breached the 30-year mark, I’ve found myself pondering when the days would come in which I would begin to feel “old.” Having been 35-years-old for a few months now, I can confidently say that at 35-years-old is the age at which I have found myself feeling old.

I will begin with the peak of the recent crescendo, which, in my old age, I will refer to as “yesterday.” I set out on a walk alone to get the mail. My 5-year-old daughter was quickly behind me. Half-way to the mailboxes, she decided to run up ahead of me. I decided to chase after her. It was after jogging a couple more than a few paces that I felt a numbing pain along the entire right side of my spine. I’d already expected my body to quickly respond with a, “HEY! What do you think you’re doing here?!” as my knees and hips adjusted to the increase in RPM, but given other recent physically-exerting experiences, I expected my body to quickly acclimate. But, it didn’t. I kept my pace to catch up to my daughter while maintaining some semblance of graceful jogging only to find that I had to constantly adjust and contort my upper body to alleviate the the spasms in my back. I slowed back down to a walk and watched as my daughter carelessly and gracefully kept sprinting along ahead of me. It was at that moment that I thought, “I’m getting old.”

I haven’t tried running or jogging today to test yesterday’s results for fear that I’ll lose complete bowel control or be stricken with spontaneous cataracts.

Speaking of bowels — it wasn’t until I turned 35 that I’ve found myself in the bathroom thinking, “one of these days I’m going to have a really good poop that just cures all of those ailments that I’m too scared to be tested for; Things like early-onset prostate cancer, high cholesterol, low bone density and forgetting where I left my coffee mug.”

It wasn’t until I turned 35-years-old that I feel that I’ve experienced indirect age discrimination. While I was unemployed last year, many of the responses I received after having submitted my resume for a job was that I was “overqualified,” which is a clear indication that I wear my pants too high and don’t understand how to use Twitter. And in recent months I’ve found myself referring to colleagues and coworkers as “the kids.”

When my hair started thinning in my twenties, the cute little girl who was cutting my hair might’ve said with an enthusiastic smile, “you know, we could get you some Rogaine and get this all fixed up for you!” Now she doesn’t even bother, and she trims my ear hair without even asking. And what’s worse is I now have to trim my own ear hair between haircuts.

I’ve always been inherently moody, but now I’m just downright crotchety. I’m always yelling at someone for leaving a door open or the water running, or at squirrels for eating all the damn bird seed. My wife was the one who first called me “crotchety,” and she knows me better than anyone, so I guess that makes me crotchety.

Old and crotchety.

Betterfasterstongerslower


So I’ve been reading a lot in the past couple years. And I mean a lot. I’ve probably read more books in the past two years than I’ve read in my life prior to 2009. And that’s like, six books or something. I’ve read quite a lot of classics, and quite a lot of just crap. After finishing a ginormous 3-in-1 Dean Koontz book that took me a month to read, I needed something holistic, real, spiritual and enlightening. I picked up my old copy of Siddhartha, which was required reading in one of my college classes. I’m pretty sure I’d never actually read this book, even when it was required reading. Back in my college days, I don’t think I would’ve retained much of the book anyway because according to statistics, the male brain doesn’t really function during college. During the college years, the male brain has to service two existential paradigms: 1) is it too early for beer and 2) do you think we could jump that in this car?

Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha is really speaking to me right now. I’m only halfway through it now, but figured I’d recap what I’ve read so far…

Siddhartha is a young Brahmin, a religious student and scholar. Siddhartha has a best friend, Govinda. Govinda, and pretty much everyone else highly regard Siddhartha as he’s just an all around good dude. But Siddhartha is frustrated. He’s not content with his path in life and his spiritual studies. He’s extremely intelligent and just “gets it”, but he feels strongly that there is something still missing in his life’s path. He tells Govinda that he’s going to become a Samana, which is basically a peasant monk who endures suffering in the forms of fasting and patience. Siddhartha and Govidna are accepted into a Samana tribe, and live the Samana life for 3 years in the forest. Sleep, pray, meditate and fast all while possessing absolutely nothing. Soon there is word that Buddha, the Perfect One will be through, to offer his teachings. Govinda excitedly convinces Siddhartha to go to listen to Buddha speak. After hearing the Illustrious One, Govinda is convinced that they must go and continue their spiritual learnings and servitude under Buddha. Siddhartha isn’t convinced as he doesn’t feel as if there’s much more he can be “taught.” Siddhartha respectfully asks to speak to the Illustrious One, and he is granted the opportunity. The gist of the conversation is that Siddhartha thinks that Buddha is nothing short of the most righteous and awesome dude there is, and is worthy of the masses of followers, however, Siddhartha feels that he must experience life by his own devices, instead of those taught through others. Buddha appreciates the young student’s early enlightenment and unquenchable thirst for knowledge and furthering his real life experiences. Siddhartha gets Buddha’s blessing and well-wishes, with a half-cocked smile.

And so Siddhartha heads out on his own – on his quest for real life experiences. Thankfully he has his experience as a Brahmin and Samana on his side, because he goes for many days where he has to fast and just be patient in his travels. He befriends many people on his journey and learns from “ordinary” people. He finds himself most enjoying the most ordinary of things, like the flowing river, trees, fish swimming, birds chirping, and the moon and the stars.

Before long, he happens upon a river with a town at the other side. He speaks to the local fisherman, who he quickly befriends and is granted a ride across the river. Siddhartha has nothing to offer the boatman. The boatman kindly acknowledges that Siddhartha’s friendship is payment enough, and notes that Siddhartha will be back at some point and will be able to repay.

Siddhartha finds himself witnessing a procession with a woman being carried by her servants. Siddhartha is enamored by the woman, and requests to make her acquaintance by one of her servants. She agrees, and she is somewhat smitten by Siddhartha, due most to his all-around awesomeness. Siddhartha asks Kamala to teach him the ways of her indulgent lifestyle. She laughs at him as he is just a lowly Samana, and that he would need fine clothes, shoes and money to be able to carry with the well-to-do in most villages. He asks how he can attain these things, and she instructs him to meet with a local merchant by the name of Kamaswami, but he is not to portray himself as any less than Kamaswami. Siddhartha agrees to meet with Kamaswami because he wants to get some fancy shoes and money so he can get some of that sweet Kamala lovin’.

Siddhartha meets with Kamaswami and they quickly become friends. Kamaswami invites Siddhartha into his home and they discuss business. Siddhartha has absolutely nothing to offer, but has the gift of knowing how to fast, to think, and to be patient. He also knows how to read and write. Kamaswami takes on Siddhartha as a business partner and teaches him many things in the ways of being a merchant. Kamaswami is frequently stressed with rising prices, exchanges and late debtors. Siddhartha takes all of these things lightly, and nothing seems to bother him. All of Siddhartha’s business associates like him and enjoy his company. If a business deal goes bad, Siddhartha says, “oh well,” while Kamaswami gets stressed and his health suffers. Siddhartha would travel for business and if no business was had, Siddhartha would report to Kamaswami that he enjoyed himself, met many new friends and experienced many new things. This, also, stressed Kamaswami.

Siddhartha soon succumbs to the business life of the merchant. What used to be a frivolous game with no consequences and many friends to gain, soon changes into a life of sleepless nights, stress, and aging body and face and deteriorating mental and physical health. He finds himself lying awake at night, reminiscing on his younger life when he had no possessions and an undying quest for knowledge and experiences. He becomes addicted to playing dice and often bets such large sums of money and his estate, that most can’t play against him. Often times he loses, which only compels him to work harder so he can earn more and play dice again.

And that’s pretty much where I am at halfway through the book. I don’t think I could get into this book when I was in college because I wasn’t old enough to have had any real world experiences like real work or endured many sufferings. I was far from mature. I was in a protected bubble monetarily, physically and psychologically. After having been in the “real world” for over a decade now, I find myself wondering, “what am I really doing all of ‘this’ for?” Realistically I know, and am reminded that I have family for which to provide, and an ecosystem in which I’m compelled to be of service. I’m thankful that I’m conscious and have the capacity to see myself from the outside and have those fleeting opportunities to take inventory. I can see myself, my family, friends and strangers alike, all chasing our tails. I wonder if the right way is to keep chasing until it’s caught, or until our emotional and physical well-being is just beaten down and defeated, or to just stop, fast, think, be patient. I think my path is to just keep slowing down and do whatever I can do be a righteous dude, be of service to others and provide an example to my brood.

Oh, the horror

I love having a child – specifically, a 5-year-old daughter. At 5-years-old, she has become a miniature social and psychological embodiment of me, with a significant percentage of Elise mixed in there as well. Seriously, who better to hang out with than an amalgamation of my two favorite people in the world?!

She reminds me a lot of me in that she’s somewhat introverted. She’s comfortable with the people she knows, but she takes her time and has her own process to attain that comfort level.

This past Friday evening she and I were hanging out in the front yard like we do just about every evening when the weather’s nice. Our neighbors came over to chat for a while in our driveway. After talking for a few minutes, Maly politely interrupted to let us all know that she had a secret that she wanted to share.

She then went on for 15 minutes, relaying the synopsis of Dean Koontz’s “Darkfall” novel. You see, one night before bed, Maly had asked me why there were “bad” or “scary” things. I don’t remember the exact context, but I told her that while there are many bad and scary things in the real world, many are created in the imagination and subconscious. I went on to explain to her that she should always embrace and explore her own imagination, and to express it in words, drawings, paintings, music or whatever she sees fit. It was then that I told her about this Dean Koontz book that I was reading. And I didn’t pull any punches. I told her about the slimy, gray-green ratlike demon monsters with rows of razor sharp teeth and fire white eyes who lurked after the protagonist’s children in the night. With each detail I relayed, I told her that it was the author’s imagination that he was sharing in the form of a book. As I told her this story, I gauged her reactions and knew that she was interested above scared.

I think she really appreciated and understood the notion of an authoring pouring his thoughts and imagination onto paper. I think she’s been so excited that she hasn’t been able to sleep for a whole week!

Extreme Makeover: Wind Chime Edition

My neighbors needed their wind chime repaired and I really needed a project to work on (If I’m not creating, building or fixing something these days, I get out of sorts). So, I stole my neighbors’ wind chime while they were out of town. It had rotted and was broken into many pieces from being out in the elements for who knows how many years. My main challenge was cutting the perfect circles for the “head” and the “chime tube striker”. I went to the big home improvement stores and couldn’t find 7-inch and 3-inch diameter circles, so I decided to teach myself how to cut perfect circles from wood. After fabricating a jig for my router, I had the perfect circles that I needed. After routing the edges of the circles and some sanding, I think they turned out nice.

By employing some Bohemian geometry, I drilled holes for the chord to hang the chimes, the clanger and to suspend the entire wind chime. Then I cut out the wind catcher.

After some staining and generous coats of polyurethane, my neighbors will have a good-as-new wind chime that hopefully they’ll enjoy for many years to come. And, most importantly, I am proud to have had the opportunity to use the term “tube striker.”

Cutting a perfect circle with the router

I’m rebuilding a wind chime and needed 7-inch and 3-inch diameter wood circles. I went to both Lowes and Home Depot and neither had little wooden circles, nor could they cut them for me. So I picked up a piece of white pine, came home and figured out how to cut out a perfect circle using my router. I had to create my Bohemian circle cutting jig (keep in mind, I’ve only used this router a couple times) using a scrap piece of lumber and mounting it to the router’s guide rods. I was pretty stoked, while wishing I would’ve taken wood shop in high school.

[flv]http://www.janicek.com/video/20110501_Perfect-Circle-router.flv[/flv]

The longboards I’ve made

From left to right:

1) Maly’s 46″ spoon – I bought her a Tony Hawk “regular” skateboard at Walmart a month ago. One day she rode my 46″ Dregs pintail and really liked it (longboards are quite a bit stable compared to short boards). So I asked her if she wanted her own longboard. She said, “Yes, I want the shape of the Birdie board, with the color of your really long board and the wings like the Finklehopper board. And I want a purple stripe down the middle and pink stripes next to it.” Okay… so I built her a board to her specifications (with a 1.5″ wing depth). I’ll do the pin striping this week, and I talked her into doing some glitter design and glitter pin striping as well. And she picked out hot pink wheels and chrome trucks.

2) Buster’s Rigid (not yet stained) – I built a standard (1/2″ thick) 46″ long spoon nose for Buster. He cracked it within a couple days of owning it. So I made him a new, custom, 4-ply 3/4″ spoon nose. This one is a solid tank. I’m be curious to see how it rides (flexes) after it’s all put together.

3) The 6-foot Pine Cabron – Why the hell not?! I wanted a 6-foot surfboard on wheels. I bought a 1″ solid piece of pine and stole the nose design from my Dregs board and curved and tapered the sides and end using a 1×2 bent by a come-along tie down. I wanted a subtle stain, so went with a “Natural” stain. I also wanted classic pin stripes and chose Bohemian Blue and Purple Wave. Wheels are 76mm blue Bigfoots. It was really bendy, and I thought I was going to crack it in half, so I built some tapered ribs with some spare plywood and pin striped those with the matching Purple Wave. It still has some flex and rides like a yacht. I need to put taller risers on it because the wheels bite the board on hard turns (even though the board doesn’t do much more than straight).

4) The Finklehopper (aka The Deuce) – This was my second board. I made my regular spoon nose, but cut out a 1″ triangle on the tail to make “wings.” I stained this one with Ipswitch Pine and made custom iron-on transfers of Finklehopper Frog (one of Maly’s and my favorite books). I mounted trucks that I custom painted with brown fireplace paint and put some black 76″ Luv Ya Mutha soy wheels on it. It has one of my better grip tape designs on the top, but the Finklehopper transfers on the bottom weren’t doing it for me. I sanded and scraped the bottom to try to get the transfers off, but I kind of messed up the surface of the wood. To try to cover it up, I masked the sides and the top of the board and just painted the bottom black. That didn’t really cover up the scratches, and there’s some remnant Finklehopper Frog designs on the bottom. I’m thinking about doing a cool rhinestone hibiscus design next to cover up and distract from the previous design “flaws.”

5) The Dropthrough (not yet stained) – “Dropthrough” boards, from what I’ve gathered, are designed for a low center of gravity and for “bombing” hills. The trucks are disassembled before mounted and are literally dropped through and mounted to the top of the board. I haven’t quite figured out how to shape and saw the openings at the front and tail to mount the trucks. Really I just wanted to design a dropthrough deck. I’ll finish it at some point. I’m a bit nervous that the nose and tail sections could easily break.

6) The Bird Board – This was the first skateboard I built. It’s a 46″ spoon nose. After owning a longboard for a couple days, I decided I wanted to build my own. I did quite a bit of research and built a longboard press out of 2×4’s. I drafted my design from aluminum mixing bowls and bending a long 1×2 piece of scrap lumber. The only stain I had was Red Mahogony and Maly convinced me to just use what I had available. Maly designed the 3 little birds sitting on a branch. It has green 70mm Luv Ya Mutha soy wheels and is my absolute favorite. It rides like a Cadillac.

Not pictured are Buster’s original spoon nose that broke, my 10-year-old neighbor’s custom designed deck that we’re working on together, and Buster’s son’s spoon nose that’s drying in the press right now. That’s 9 boards in 5 weeks!

I think I have an addiction. At least it’s a healthy one.

6-foot longboard

This thing rides like a yacht. Built from a 6′ plank of 1×12″ pine, stained a natural color with Bahama Blue and Purple Wave pinstripes, lots of semi-gloss polyurethane and Blue Bigfoot 76mm 78a durometer wheels.

[flv]http://www.janicek.com/video/20110417-6-foot-longboard.flv[/flv]

Say hello to heaven

My Uncle J.L. died last night. He died of liver disease and while I don’t know if it’s documented, I’m sure it was caused by a life of imbibing and poor diet. Although he kind of dropped out of my life some 20 years ago, I have, and will continue to have fond memories of him. J.L. was “that” uncle in our family. I don’t mean the “that” that’s synonymous with bad. He was the uncle that was always cutting up and never took life too seriously. And that might be why he died, because he didn’t take his disease seriously enough early enough. My hopes are that he wasn’t in much pain. The doctors and hospice caretakers indicated to my mom that they’d keep him comfortable.

I didn’t say goodbye to my uncle in person. I still don’t think I’ve said goodbye to him. I never really knew where he went when he stopped coming around, and while I don’t think it really bothered me, I still wondered. Did he make road trips to Wyoming? Did he hole himself up in an old house somewhere out in his old stomping grounds in Houston? Did he have a woman in his life?

I remember my uncle coming to visit on the weekends when I was an adolescent. We’d get into his old, nondescript 1970’s orangish-goldish boat of a sedan and go to Crossroads for night crawlers. J.L. would invariably buy a six pack and slip me a comment about the cute twin daughters that worked the cash register. Then we’d go back to the pond at the house and spend a couple hours fishing. J.L. was the one who actually fished. I just kind of stood by as the trusty, doting sidekick and took in all of his stories and whatever else came out his mouth. I looked up to him because he had a long, bright yet dull orange biker ponytail and a deep, raspy tone in his voice that either told you he just didn’t give a shit, or that he loved you with all of his heart, depending on which hemisphere of his heart he kept you.

J.L. was the uncle who made fun of me for having Kiss albums, but was probably proud that I at least liked rock music. He was the uncle who was excited when I got the annual Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. He was also the uncle who always went out of his way to remind me of how lucky I was to have parents who were smart, who loved me and wanted me to do something with my life.

I went through a phase in my pre-teens where having gelled and spiky hair was the trend. Whenever J.L. would come to visit, he’d always look at me and say, “now that’s a cool haircut!” in that giving and familiar voice that always trailed with his smoker’s chuckle. I’d blush with equal parts of embarrassment and flattery. Whenever he’d leave to go back home, he would always tell me that the next time I saw him, he’d have a haircut just like mine. He never did.

One of the last memories I have of my uncle J.L., 20 years later, is my mom giving him a haircut. At his request, she sheared off his ponytail and gave him a clean haircut. I was there for that haircut. That was the last time that I saw him.

I’ll miss you, J.L.

Longboarding

We’re sitting across the desk from John, who’s preparing our taxes. I’m afraid of the number he’s going to come up with, and I think he’s afraid for us as well. As we’d walked in, I told him that I opted for forbearance on tax deductions from my unemployment compensation, and that we had to cash in on some investments to survive the 9 months that I was unemployed. I think we all knew that we were going to owe the government some money.

After an hour, John put the number in front of us. And this number, to our surprise, was to our benefit. The first thought that my inner-consumerist could muster was, “Alright, we should go buy an iPad!” And before that thought could even complete itself, and for whatever reason, it was squashed with, “I’m going to buy skateboards for Maly and me.”

To this day, I still don’t know why skateboards popped into my head. The only explanation I can think of is that Maly has pretty much mastered the PlasmaCar, Razor scooter and her bicycle. I’d also much rather promote fresh air, physical activity and coordination over either her or I sitting on the couch with an iPad on our lap (we already do enough of that as is with either a laptop or just the TV). Teaching my daughter how to ride a skateboard just seemed like the next logical step in my head.

I wanted to introduce Maly to the world of skateboarding that I grew up knowing in the 80’s; big, thick boards with knobby wheels (compared to today’s skateboard wheels). After doing some research, I decided that my 4-year-old daughter probably wouldn’t get into skateboarding enough in the short-term to warrant my nostalgic penchant, so we decided to just go to WalMart and get her a “beginner” skateboard. She chose a Tony Hawk Birdhouse deck, complete with skull graphics. It was a proud moment for me.

As for me, I wanted a throwback board — something that would rekindle my youth and the way that I chose to ride when I was an adolescent. The other kids on the street were busy teaching themselves how to ollie and grind. While they were doing that, I was traveling from point A to point B. I cruised. So, 25 years later, I wanted to find a board that would suit my cruising ways. That meant a longboard. They didn’t have longboards when skateboarding gained popularity in the 80’s, so this was completely new territory, but essentially a no-brainer.

I did quite a bit of research on the shapes and styles of longboards and found what I thought I wanted on Austin’s craigslist: a 46″ Dregs Alpine pintail with 66mm wheels. It looked like a surfboard, and that’s what I wanted. Maly and I woke up early on a Saturday, met the seller at a restaurant downtown, handed him $75 and he handed me a practically brand new longboard.

And I’ve been trying to ride every day since. I still suck, but I try, and I’m having fun. Maly hasn’t taken the interest to skateboarding like I was hoping she would, but that’s her prerogative. I’m not going to push her, but I’ll encourage any interest and will gladly hold her hands while she practices getting her legs beneath herself and learns to lean.

I don’t think 24 hours had even passed after having owned my first longboard that I decided that I wanted to build my own longboard. I really liked my Dregs board, but I had an idea of what the “perfect” shape longboard was for me, and I couldn’t justify spending even another $75 on another board.

And so, thanks to YouTube, I learned that one must glue and press multiple layers of maple veneer or plywood to create the concave of a skateboard deck. So I built a skateboard press that I affectionately named the “Wood Maiden” and pressed my first skateboard. I carefully designed the shape of my longboard using a combination of aluminum mixing bowls and a long strip of scrap 1×2 to create the nose and curved shape for the sides of the board, and traced my design onto a long sheet of paper that I borrowed from Maly’s art easel. I then transferred the outline to my pressed wood and began sawing and sanding.

In a month, it’s kind of turned into an addiction. I’ve made myself two 46″ spoon nose boards, made a friend online who gave me his old longboard, made another spoon nose for a friend and am currently helping the 10-year-old neighbor boy build his own custom longboard (with a design that I’m thinking about trying out myself). I want to try my hand at making a “drop through” longboard and would ultimately like to see if I could maybe sell a few of my designs. I also made myself a custom “goof board.”

On weekend mornings, I get up before the sun and ride down parking garages on the west side of town. I love the quiet and still of the morning and having an entire, empty parking garage all to myself.

I’m really looking forward to getting Buster’s board done so he and I can go riding together. Next steps are to design a drop through deck, build a 5- or 6-foot-long deck, figure out a way to transfer photos to a longboard deck and learn to work with fiberglass. It’s been a fun ride so far!