Songburst: Playing to Win

While we were in Sunriver, the group played a marathon session of Songburst, the “name that tune” game. Steph read song titles and lyrics to us, and we tried to guess the next words. This was the “70s and 80s” edition, so it hit the sweetspot of our childhood years.

We were all surprised at how skilled Kristin was at Songburst. She nailed even the most obscure songs. It’s as if she’s spent her entire life curled up, listening to K103 on a transistor radio.

Part of the fun was singing the cheesy songs of our youth, and discovering who loves which artists. Kris stunned us all with her Stevie Wonder impersonation. Jenn is a big fan of Olivia Newton-John. Kristin can sing “Brand New Key”. And I like the Little River Band.

Because I was a little tipsy (though not nearly as tipsy as Jeff, who was very happy), I downloaded three albums during the game: Toto’s Greatest Hits, Paul Simon’s Greatest Hits, and Little River Band’s Greatest Hits.

This morning as I was working around the house (trying to recover from this damn cold), I was playing Little River Band at full blast, bellering, “Have you heard about the lonesome loser, beaten by the queen of hearts every time?” Then a song came on that I cannot recall having heard before. It was rocking. And then it wasn’t. And then it was.

“Oh my goodness,” I thought. “The video for this has got to be awesome.” I meant that ironically, of course. And yes, yes the video is awesome. Ironically.

My friends, I give you “Playing to Win” by the Little River Band, circa 1985. Enjoy.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go download Dan Fogelberg’s Greatest Hits…

Mini Mileage

We’re home from another great weekend trip to Sunriver. We do this trip every year with the MNF group, and it’s almost always fun. We’ve finally found a house that seems to facilitate group interaction, which is awesome. This was our fourth year in the same spot, and since Kris and I are planning the trip next year, you can count on a fifth year, too.

One of the best parts of this year’s excursion was driving my new (used) Mini Cooper, which we’ve dubbed Bumblebee (or simply Bumble). Kris was very patient with me as I toyed with acceleration in spots. Fun.

As a stats geek, I love the onboard computer. I suppose most cars come with these nowadays, but they’re new to me. Bumble can display his real-time fuel consumption and calculate his average usage. He can do the same for speeds. (And, best of all, Bumble can tell me how far he can go before he needs more gas!)

I’ve always been curious which path to Sunriver is quicker, over Mt. Hood or over the Santiam Pass. This year I tracked our numbers:

Our trip to Sunriver took us from Oak Grove to Sandy to Madras to Redmond to Bend. We covered 169.2 miles in three hours and thirty minutes, for an average speed of 52.9 miles per hour. Bumble traveled 34.0 miles per gallon.
On our trip home from Sunriver, we went from Bend to Sisters to Stayton to Silverton to Oregon City to Oak Grove. We covered 180.0 miles in three hours and 45 minutes, for an average speed of 51.8 miles per hour. Bumble traveled 39.8 miles per gallon.

For the entire trip (which included some time puttering around Sunriver and Bend), Bumble traveled 430.6 miles and used 12.225 gallons of gas. That’s total fuel efficiency of 35.2 miles per gallon.

One drawback is that Bumble does require Premium fuel. Ouch. That stuff’s expensive. However, I ran the numbers for the final 30 days I owned the Focus and compared them to my first two weeks with the Mini, and it seems the Focus was actually just a hair more expensive to run. (Well, comparing fuel costs only, that is.)

Now, however, it’s time for bed, even though it’s only 7:20. I’ve returned from Sunriver sick as a dog. Ugh. Why me? Why now?

p.s. This is odd. I just re-read my old posts about Sunriver. I came home sick from the 2006 trip, and again in 2009. Kris returned home sick in 2007 and 2008. “Why do you think that is?” I asked Kris. “It’s because those people are germ factories!” she said. I thought that was pretty funny.

Parallel Universe

As I mentioned at Get Rich Slowly the other day, I’ve discovered the bus.

I can recall riding the bus when I was just a boy (so before the age of two — right, Mom?), and I rode it once in high school to visit Paul Carlile when he was in foster care, but I’ve never ridden it as an adult. I’ve been on buses in other cities — just not in Portland.

What took me so long?

I was sort of in a panic Wednesday when I learned that the routine service on my new (used) Mini would keep the car in the shop overnight. How would I get home? Eventually I realized I could take the bus.

And I rode the bus back into the city on Thursday. A fifteen minute walk to the bus stop at Oak Grove and McLoughlin, a twenty minute ride, and bam! There I was at 4th and Washington.

I love it.

I had a sense of exhilarating freedom as I sat in O’Bryant Square just killing time. I know this probably sounds lame, but it’s liberating to not have a car downtown. I didn’t have to worry about parking. I could wlak where I wanted and take as long as I wanted. I could watch the skateboarders, and the mounted police (and the bicycle police), and the businessmen eating Chinese takeout on the park benches. I could sit there and write.

Sure, I could do all of those things if I’d driven downtown, too. But I wouldn’t. I’d be in a completely different mindset. It’s as if when I stepped on that bus I entered a different world — a parallel universe.

Later in the day, I met my friend Ramit for lunch at Kenny and Zuke’s. He was in town from San Francisco to promote his new book. I lingered a long time, chatting with our readers (especially Davy and Kinley), and then walked up to the Mini dealer to get my car.

The whole time, I felt like I was in a strange and wonderful alternate universe. All because of public transportation.

(I’ll admit, though, that it felt good to drive home!)

Two Glimmers of Insight

I’ve had a lot of amazing experiences lately that I’m not able to write about for a variety of reasons. However, I had two encounters yesterday that seemed especially important to me, and I wanted to write them down before I lost them. These anecdotes will be a little vague. Sorry.

I’m in San Francisco for some professional development and media relations training. (Yes, I’m serious.) It’s been a whirlwind of activity, but I love it.

In a morning meeting, I was complaining about the entire journalistic process in the United States. I’ve seen enough of it from the inside now to know that I cannot trust a single thing I see on television or read in a magazine. (Remember our five-year-old argument about Truth vs. truth? The media takes this to a whole new level.) These stories are manufactured, just like a cardboard box. They’re not reported. The “journalists” create the story they think their audience wants, and when they contact me, I’m just an ingredient.

Bill, one of the fellows working with me, listened to my complaints, and then he said, “J.D., you can’t look at it like that. You can’t expect it to be straight reporting because it’s not. You have to think of it like sausage. What they’re producing is sausage. The media is a giant sausage factory. You don’t want to know what goes into the sausage or how it’s made. You just have to trust that what comes out at the other end tastes good.”

I loved this analogy. Based on my experience, it’s so completely apt. It’s exactly what goes on.

I’m in the midst of participating in a bit for tonight’s episode of “On the Money” on CNBC. I’ll be on their Success Stories segment. But you do not want to know the ingredients to this piece of sausage.

Later in the day, I was working with Michelle, who is giving me public speaking training. She was asking me about my story and my goals. She wanted to know how I present myself. What do I want people to remember me as? I kept coming back to my old song-and-dance: I want people to trust my advice and listen to what I have to say, but I don’t want them to think of me as a financial expert. “I’m just a regular guy,” I said.

Michelle shook her head. “That won’t work,” she said. “You can’t kiss a girl through the screen door.” She didn’t even have to explain what she meant. I understood her meaning immediately. “The truth is, you are an expert. You’re an expert on the fundamentals of personal finance. You’re a common-sense advisor.”

Great stuff. (She also gave me a good disclaimer to use after I bill myself as a spokesman for common-sense fundamentals. She told me to say: “I am not an expert in this space. You should seek a professional advisor.” In other words, I should lay claim to what I can, and then offer people further options.)

I have another entire day of training ahead of me. I have to be over at the office in 25 minutes. I’m excited for what it might hold.

A Night on the Town

I’ve been promising for months (years?) that foldedspace would come out of its shell. Perhaps I should stop promising that.

One way for me to get more material to write about is to actually do stuff…instead of writing. The truth is that most of my day (every day) is spent on the computer, writing for my many sites. This is profitable, no question, but it means I have little personal experience to share.

To remedy that, I’m going to make a point of going out and about, hanging out with friends. And, in fact, I did just that last Friday night.

I joined a bunch of old friends from high school (Dawne, Tom, Jonathan, Tami, Dagny, ~~Cassie~~ Castle, Dusty, Karin) to eat, bowl, and sing. Well, I didn’t sing, but I had a lot of fun listening to everyone else do so. I’d never experienced karaoke before, and I thought it was a lot of fun.

I had the foresight to bring my camera, so I can offer two videos for my fellow Canby alums. First up, here’s Jonathan McDowell singing George Michael’s “Faith”:

This was the first time I’d seen Jonathan since high school. It was great to chat with him and to hear his laugh. It was also great to see Tom Stewart again, who blessed with a performance of Neil Diamond’s “Forever in Blue Jeans”:

Great stuff, gents. Great stuff. Maybe I’ll polish up my Paul Simon or Johnny Cash so that next time I can join the fun…