BYE, DAD

Last week was a lot.

I found out my dad died on July 30th, 2024.

We don’t know the exact time he passed, but he died alone in a trailer park in Florida. We didn’t have much of a relationship in the last seven or so years of his life for reasons I won’t go into, but I want to share a bit about his music.

My dad was an absolute music theory genius. He spoke in keys and modes and time signatures. He could play multiple instruments, listen to a song once, and play it for you backward and forward.

When I was a kid, he played in a country rock band called The Buckaroos, playing at ski resorts on the weekends and clubs during the week. He made good money playing guitar in the eighties.

Live music started to fade in our area, so he started teaching music out of his house. One of his students was a fiddle player who moved to Nashville and toured with a notable country artist or two.

In his later years, he’d seek out bass players and drummers, always looking to form a jazz trio. He had some luck getting gigs back in PA and later in Florida.

But when these groups fell apart, so did he.

He would still play at home, with his little Polytone amp that he bought in the 80s, playing his be-bop jazz and whatever else came out from his decades of experience.

This is from my recent post “Outdated expectations kill creative dreams,” over on Substack.

That photo at the top of this post was from dad’s old digital camera. It’s so old it takes 2AA batteries.

GRABBING NOTHING

Photo by Seth Werkheiser

All the hours spent on social media over the last several years – it stings. Hours I could have spent walking around town with a camera, or just sitting on a bench thinking about nothing.

Nothing, space, the void. Right now these are the most important items on my daily to-do list. Mind you, this doesn’t mean I spend 75% of my day in meditation, or staring at the walls while ignoring my cat, or my work stuff. I just mean capturing moments of nothing / space / the void when I can get it.

This means hour long runs with no music. Walks around town when I’ve completed work tasks. Leaving my phone outside of the kitchen when I’m making and eating lunch.

The goal each day is to grab as much nothing as posslb.e

EXERCISE SO HARD YOU CAN’T THINK DURING IT

The subject line above is from John Durham Peters, as quoted from this post ‘Research Techniques.’

Running is my exercise of choice. I warm up very slowly, to the point where the first 20 minutes always feels like a mistake, and I should be doing something else. But then I’m four miles into a run and start thinking “maybe I should do eight miles today!”

But really, the joy of running for me is not thinking, or at least, not fretting. Not worrying.

There’s taxes to be paid, deadlines to meet, tasks to complete, sure. Those will always be there.

But when running, and when I’m truly present, I notice just the important things – the ground below, the sweat on my arms, watching my breath, keeping my heart rate in check.

In that moment, at mile one or eleven, they’re the most important things in my life. If I don’t pay full attention, and stay clear minded about such matters, it could be trouble.

So running forces me to be present, which really makes you wonder what’s important in life. Like I said, the taxes, the deadlines, yep… those will never end.

But someday I will run my last mile.
Someday I’ll run up a favorite hill one last time.
They’ll be a time when I can’t just walk out the door and stroll around the block.

That’s why I keep moving, and spending money (ooops) on things that keep moving, like ultralight backpacks and tents so I can be in the woods more, or another pair of trail shoes because I use them enough that they fall apart.

So I wouldn’t say I exercise that hard, but I flirt with that level of pain. I get close enough. It’s a challenge, but not impossible.

A few months ago I started running up this road that leads to the Appalachian Trail, and it used to take me 30 minutes, from the parking lot to the peak.

Back in April it took me about 45 minutes. I gained some weight, hadn’t been running so much.

It’s June and I’m at about 34 minutes, which is 34 minutes of not thinking about a fucking thing in the world except reaching the top and not dying.

UP UP UP

I just bought one 9V battery from the local CVS, and it was $10. The two packs were about $14.

Going from $1.75 to $10 is a 471% increase, and back then (in the ’70s or ’80s), you got TWO batteries for that price.

At .99 cents a gallon we used to fill up our gas tanks with a $20, and have money left over for lunch.

Now a full tank and a lunch from Wawa will run you about $45.

REMEMBERING EZRA CALDWELL

I had an interview with Ezra Caldwell published in Urban Velo back in September 2007. You can read it here.

I was living in NYC then and (of course) was getting into fixed gear and single-speed bicycles. Ezra invited me to his place in January of 2006, and gave me a spare wheel he had lying around, and even installed it for me.

“On the upper west side of Manhattan lives Ezra Caldwell. A wiry little guy with a stable of bikes, an inviting smile and a wrench. He’ll adjust your brakes over coffee, then tweak your chain line and take you around the block. This is what Ezra does.”

We went out for a test ride, and I remember doing a “track stand” and Ezra saying something like, “Wow, you figured that out quick.”

To which I simply replied, “Well, I’ve been riding bikes for a while!”

God, all these years later, I remember how arrogant that sounded. I was in my early 30s, so that makes sense.

We weren’t close; we were just two people who met because of the internet.

“The internet in general has made wild things possible,” says Ezra. “I’d say most of my friends at this point are people I’ve met on Flickr.”

I woke up on May 18, 2024, and for whatever reason, thought of this seemingly insignificant interview I did 17 years ago.

Ezra passed away on May 24, 2014 after a battle with cancer. I can’t believe ten years have passed, and then this weekend I thought of Ezra for the first time in forever.

We’re in each other’s lives to varying degrees, and then we’re not. I only had a fleeting few moments with Ezra all those years ago, but reading some posts here and there, he touched a lot of people.

Hug your friends. Do cool shit. Life is short.

IT’S NOT JUST ONE THING

There’s a quote in here that’s actually a quote from another podcast, but it’s something like, “it’s not just one thing.”

And he’s talking about the young kids coming up and thinking that making it to the NBA is the “one thing” that will make them happy, but then it’s depressing when you make it and wow, it doesn’t just make you happy.

It’s never just one thing.

I remember not just getting a three month contract gig at AOL Music in 2006, but I was asked to START a metal blog for them in 2008. There’s more to the story, of course, but there’s always a way for that thing you’re dreaming of you disappoint you, to let you down, to fail you, because it’s never just one thing.

BENCH MAKES TAX TIME A BREEZE

Look, we’ve all got out strenghts and weaknesses.

Since I’ve been self-employed since 2006 (18 freaking years), I’ve never really been great with the whole taxes thing. All the expense tracking. The forms. Writing off all those tiny bank fees – those all add up!

I used to do everything in Freshbooks, and it was a MESS. Always. So much manual input. Or some months I’d just not clean up my books. I was a wreck.

Three years ago or so I bit the bullet and signed up for Bench. They connect to your bank accounts and do your bookkeeping. They used to shuffle your books over to another company for taxes, but now they process and file your taxes, too.

They also have this messaging feature through their website, too. So you can ask all sorts of questions about books, expenses, and taxes, and it’s CHILL because it’s just CHAT. With REAL PEOPLE.

If needed, you can book a call with them to talk about your books and taxes. It’s all included, and I LOVE IT.

Now… halfway through last year, I “streamlined” my operations and cut a bunch of expenses, so I thought, eh, I can manage my books myself!

Then it was the xmas holiday, and I still needed to process my books from November, and then December was lurking, too! I dreaded even getting started.

So I came crawling back (had great phone conversations with their team), and got re-started.

Here’s the thing – they have a “CATCH UP SERVICE.”

So they got connected back to my bank account, I uploaded some bank statements, and then they got my books settled from June-December.

It wasn’t free, of course, but it was WORTH IT.

Everything was updated, all books current. It was great.

Now, I just reviewed my taxes today, April 2nd, and we’re like, good to go. All done. In years past I’d get to filing my taxes in like, AUGUST or something, cuz I just kept pushing it off. Hell, I didn’t even file my 2019 taxes because of the whole COVID thing. Yeah… tax stuff is my weakness!

If that sounds similar to how you treat tax time, I highly recommend them. Check out Bench (affiliate link) and see if they might be a fit for you.

SIDEWALK CLOSED

Tell me you don’t care about people with mobility issues without telling me you don’t care about people with mobility issues.

I just don’t get how businesses and municipalities are okay with this. Forcing anyone with a mobility issue to have to leave the side walk and go into the road.

Oh, and what if there are cars parked there? Then what?

ACTION IS THE BEST NOISE CANCELATION

Minimalism was a thing for me in 2009.

I loved the idea of owning “just enough.”

I also remember all the questions, the naysayers, the “yeah, buts.” A lot of people in the replies asking about the best lightweight shirt, or how many socks to own.

But there comes a time when the questions are a stall tactic.

There’s a time to do your research, sure. Buying anything for $1,000, it pays to look at some reviews and YouTube videos, but at some point, you’ve got to make a move, which then puts you on the hook.

When I hit the road as a bike nerd in 2010, I heard some naysayers on a bike forum or two (the internet was much smaller back then), but fuuuuck off, I was living my dream while you were posting comments on the internet.

Did I do everything right? Nope. Did I post some pompeous shit? Hell yeah, I did.

I did stuff and learned from it, a constant cycle of learning, figuring things out, adapting, and getting to the next challenge, writing the next chapter.

The online chatter is noise, and the noise goes away when you build up a nice strong sense of self by doing whatever the fuck it is you want to do.