The Uncertainty of Politics — and Its Affect on Small Business Investors

I come up with a new goal and a business plan to go with it — and realize that this simply isn’t a good time to take risks.

If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you should know a little about me, but if you don’t, let me fill you in on what’s important to know for this post.

At Chicago
I crossed my wake in Chicago on August 12, 2024. Here’s my boat, Do It Now, in a slip at DuSable Marina in Chicago, exactly 6 feet away from the slip I started from in October 2022.

I’m currently 60-something. I retired from my most recent career as a helicopter pilot in 2023, after selling the helicopter, the charter company, and the cherry drying company in 2022 and 2023. I took the proceeds from those sales and used them to buy a 32-foot “pocket yacht,” which I shipped to Chicago in October 2022. I then spent most of the next two years cruising on that boat, alone and with friends, along the Great Loop. (I blog about that in my Great Loop blog, so if you’re interested, please check it out.)

Big Garage
The bigger your garage is, the more stuff you’ll accumulate to fill it.

I finished my Great Loop trip in August 2024 and trailered the boat back to the Seattle area, where I launched it in Puget sound. I then spent most of the next month cruising around there and the Inside Passage before bringing it home and cramming it into my very large garage for the winter.

In those final days on the Loop — keeping in mind that I covered more than 8,000 miles — I realized that the part of the Loop I liked the best was the northern part, say from New York City all the way up to Canada and then west into the Great Lakes. There’s nothing quite like cruising in the lakes, rivers, and canals of New York and Ontario; I felt that I could do it forever.

At Valcour Island
Here’s Do It Now anchored off Valcour Island in Lake Champlain in June 2024. I could spend a lifetime exploring the waterways of New York and Ontario.

Wouldn’t it be great to do it every summer until my age caught up with me and I was done boating?

Goals

I’m a person of personal goals and finishing the Great Loop left me kind of floundering without one. I also felt weird about being retired — not having anything to do to bring in a few bucks to cover my living expenses. I was living off my retirement savings, waiting a few more years to start collecting social security, and it didn’t look as if running out of money was going to be a problem. (I’m remarkably thrifty about some things.) Although my side gig as a silversmith did bring in some money, it was small change without the potential to get much bigger — unless I was willing to spend five days a week in my studio producing jewelry and a bunch of time finding new markets for my work. I wasn’t.

But when I finished the Loop I felt the inklings of a new goal coming on, a new business endeavor where I could spend eight months of the year cruising northern inland waters and the remaining four months soaking up the sun in Arizona. I’d use my captain’s license to offer one- and two-week cruises to a specific potential market of people, cruising in the waters I wanted to explore while teaching them what I knew about cruising. The money I brought in would cover my cruising expenses, reducing my cost of living and helping me preserve some of those retirement savings.

I’m Going to Need a Bigger Boat

But there was a catch: I needed a bigger boat.

I needed a boat with two full sleeping cabins. My guests would get the good one and I’d take the lesser one, but the lesser one had to be a lot bigger than the lesser one on my current boat. I needed to upsize and I had a few models in mind.

Of course, all of these bigger boat options, although pre-owned, would cost a significant amount of money. I figured I’d get that money by selling my home, which is fully paid for, and my current boat, which has a small loan. (I could go into a long lecture about having a paid-for home, but I won’t do it here.) I figured I’d put all of the boat proceeds and half the home proceeds into a bigger boat and use the rest of my home proceeds to buy a modest place in Tucson. After all, although I love my current home, I don’t like it nearly as much during the four months I’d be taking my annual break from the boat. Surely I wouldn’t miss it.

When I was in Arizona, I looked at homes and land and actually found two different lots that were perfect for me. One would be easier than the other to build on, but I’d still have to build on it. I built my current home, acting as General Contractor while the experts did the stuff requiring experts and I did the rest. Did I have another build in me? I thought maybe I did.

American Tug
What a deal! This 2014 American Tug could be mine for just $610K! Not what I was hoping to spend, however.

So all this is what was going through my mind when I cut this winter’s trip to Arizona short so I could attend the Seattle Boat Show. I had multiple goals for the show, but the main one was to look at used boats in the marina portion of the show. And I did. I actually found two models that would work perfectly for my new business.

The unfortunate thing was that they cost about 50% more than I was hoping to pay. Oops.

Okay, well maybe I could get a small business loan. I had good credit and could work up a business plan that would pass muster. My number-smart brain — did I mention I have an accounting degree? — went to work considering possibilities to make this happen.

How the Current Political Climate Stopped Me Cold

Meanwhile, the demented old narcissist that half the country thought should be the most powerful man in the world got sworn into office. (Did you notice how he didn’t touch the bible? I think he was afraid he’d burn his hand with the lightning God would send through it.)

And things got pretty weird pretty quick.

I won’t go into a litany of the weird shit the Orange Clown and his South African crony, the Space Karen, have subjected America and the world to. First of all, I couldn’t list it all. I stopped following the news. All I know are the things that have crept through my social media filters, things I’ve heard while I had my head in the sand and my fingers in my ears singing la, la, la, la, la at the top of my lungs.

And even that is enough.

More than enough.

Boat Longing
There will be no return to Valcour Island in a boat anytime soon. But I will get to cruise the Pacific Northwest this summer so I’m not as sad as this picture might make me look.

More than enough to tell me that I’d be insane to invest time and money in a new business in this crazy political climate. Tariffs will result in inflation far beyond what we saw over the past few years. Job losses from the shutdown of government offices and the cancelling of grants will put people in dire straits. Another recession, which is definitely possible when the guy making laws by signing executive orders keeps making asinine decisions, will make it highly unlikely that anyone will want to pay me to take them on a cruise. (Unless there’s a chance I can smuggle them into Canada, I guess. If Canada even lets us in.)

More than enough to tell me that I’d be a complete and utter fool to walk away from a paid-for house to build a new one in the kind of economic uncertainty we face, where the price of lumber and building materials could jump 50% — if such materials were available at all. And in a red state? A place where the majority of people think calling the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of America is a good thing that proves their cult leader has their best interests at heart? (How are those egg prices doing, my deplorable friends?) And how long before they cut our social security and medicare benefits — the exact thing most Americans in my age group are relying on to take care of them in their old age?

Am I nuts?

No.

So there won’t be a new business in my future. (Well, at least not one beyond the tiny business I started late last year and will talk about elsewhere.) There won’t be cruising in the freshwater lakes, rivers, and canals of New York and Ontario and beyond, at least not in a new-to-me, bigger boat. There won’t be a new house on five acres of desert land in the foothills of the Rincon Mountains near Tucson.

There will just be the financial security and comfort of the home I’m in now, a home I love eight months out of the year. I’ll keep myself busy enough.

And learn to be satisfied without chasing down another goal.

I still have that camper for a winter escape.

Constant Complaining Is a Total Turn-Off

I befriend a temporary neighbor only to discover that I really don’t want to be her friend.

I’m stuck in a Kingman, AZ trailer park, waiting for repairs to the suspension on my truck. I’ve been here since Saturday and, with luck, my truck will be done before the end of business today, five days later. Sunday and New Year’s Day really screwed up the work schedule.

When I arrived I took my pups for a walk in a neighboring empty lot. Along the way, my next door neighbor came out and gave me her card. She seemed friendly. Inside her trailer, her dogs were barking and I was on my way to get my pups some relief so we didn’t have time to chat.

Yesterday, while I was hooking up the sewer hose to dump my camper’s tanks, she came out to chat. I was my usual talk-to-strangers self, giving her advice on how to connect her sewer pipe so it would drain properly. (She had it set up with the hose making a roller coaster of ups and downs which is probably the worst way to set it up.) She thanked me profusely but then started in on a litany of personal problems which included a restraining order on her ex, a truck she was making payments on but couldn’t drive because of some health issue, more health issues, medication issues, family issues, drug problems, alcohol problems, the handyman who ripped her off, the Facebook Marketplace buyer who tried to come after dark, the neighbor who teases her dogs, the 11 dead relatives in one year — the list went on and on, spewing out in a one-sided conversation while I stood there politely, holding an RV sewer hose in one hand, totally unable to get a word in other than stunned acknowledgement, and wishing she’d shut up so I could finish my task and go back inside. It only took a few minutes for me to realize that she was crazy or very near to it. Her telling me that everyone in the trailer park thought she was crazy kind of confirmed it.

Numb feet (?) was the health problem that finally got her to leave me alone and go back into her camper. I took care of my sewer hose and I took a few minutes to fix the roller coaster in hers since it was right beside mine. (It should work a lot better now.) Her dogs barked through the thin camper walls most of the time. Then I went back inside my camper, leaving the outer door open for fresh air.

She was back a few hours later, waiting near my door for the Walmart delivery person to bring her groceries. She wanted to see my pups so I showed her, opening the door so they could go out and get petted. She oohed and aahed. They didn’t stick around with her, though. Maybe they knew she was crazy, too. They ran back into the camper and I — well, I never came out.

Her dogs, by the way, are rescues, each of which are large — a Great Dane and a German Shepherd, I think — and have serious behavioral problems. It’s great that someone would literally rescue dogs that are going to be put down otherwise, but maybe someone with so many of her own problems should get a smaller, calmer companion pet?

The grocery delivery arrived and I thought I was spared. But she was back a few minutes later. It was New Year’s Eve and she’d gotten it into her head that I’d come over and drink with her. But only two drinks for her, she told me. That’s all she was allowed.

It would be zero drinks for me. There was no way I was going to go into her trailer with the giant dogs formerly on death row and listen to more of her problems while she got drunk. It was mid-afternoon and I told her I was going to take a nap. When she left, I closed my outer door.

I don’t know if she got the message (not likely) or just forgot about me because she didn’t return. I spent most of the day indoors today, writing. I didn’t want to run into her and it’s not as if I could drive somewhere with my truck in pieces at the Ford dealer.

I just want to assure readers here that I’m not making this up. It’s all true. The trailer park I’m in is funky, but it’s safe and relatively clean and certainly cheap enough. (Heck, I’m paying enough for the truck repair!) No one has bothered me. One neighbor came by with a big wrench to get the sewer cap off for me. And when dogs belonging to folks on the other side of me left three dog turds right outside my door, they cleaned it up as soon as I politely asked them to. (And no more since.)

Anyway, there is a point to this story and it’s this:

Everyone has their own problems and most folks don’t want to hear about yours. Yes, it’s okay to make one or two complaints. A sore back, an annoying neighbor. But stop right there. If all you can do is run off at the mouth about all the woes in your life, you’re not going to make any friends.

I feel sorry for her and I don’t think there’s really anything funny about her situation — despite how I might have written it up here. But I’m not going to sacrifice my own mental health and well being to give her companionship. I just don’t want to hear any more of her complaints.

And I honestly don’t see any reason why anyone should — other than maybe a professional therapist.

Another New Year, Simple Resolutions

I look back at the year that just ended and forward into the year just beginning.

As I get older, I’m spending a lot more time thinking about the past and the future. I thought I’d take a moment to jot down some of my thoughts as we change calendars and start a new year.

Goodbye 2024

AGLCA
I’m not a member of this organization, which seems to exist primarily to separate Great Loop cruisers and wannabes from their money. I got the flag for free and flew it to identify myself as a Looper to others; not many realized I hung it upside down.

I’ve been thinking a bit about the year that just ended — as most of us probably do around New Year’s Day. It was my first full year of “retirement” (whatever that is in my life), a year when I completed a handful of personal achievements to move me forward in my life.

The biggest of these was the completion of my Great Loop cruise, a non-event that occurred on August 12, 2024 in Chicago, IL when I cruised past the entrance to the Chicago River and into DuSable Harbor. It was the culmination of about 16 months of cruising, mostly solo, over the course of 22 months in the boat that members of my family (who I now realize never really knew me very well) claimed I’d never use.

Do It Now at Walburg
One of my favorite anchorages last winter was just off the ICW in Georgia.

In the 8,300+ nautical miles I traveled on all kinds of waterways — rivers, lakes (including three Great Lakes) , bays, gulfs, canals, the ICW, and the Atlantic Ocean — I really honed my skills as a mostly solo boat captain. That served me very well in late September, when those skills were recognized and I was offered a job as a powerboat instructor for single and twin engine boats up to 50 feet in length. I took two classes to get the additional certifications I needed (in addition to my USCG captain’s license, which I got in 2023). I start that work later this year.

(I could write a whole blog post about how my hobbies and interests have turned into paying work — and even careers — throughout my life, but I’ll save that for another day.)

I put my silversmithing work pretty much on hold during 2024, although I did get a few jewelry classes in at Gallery One. I also managed to sell some jewelry to a new wholesale account on Bald Head Island in North Carolina. (Be sure to check out the Silver Peddler for my work if you’re ever out there.)

I did start a new hobby — like I needed one — bookbinding. This combines my love of addiction to paper with my love of books and writing. I’m just starting to get the hang of it now. I find the stitching of text blocks to be strangely soothing and rewarding. I think a lot of my friends will be getting books as gifts in the months and maybe years to come.

Dad and Me
My stepmom took this photo of my dad and me at their house in Florida last winter. At the time, my dad was 84 and working full time at Home Depot.

I also reconnected with my dad after so many years of him just being a background figure in my life. This actually started in 2023, when I first cruised to his Florida home in my boat on my way north along the Great Loop route. I stopped there again twice in late 2023 and then again in early 2024. It was a pleasure to be with a family member who wasn’t judging me or trying to get me to do what they thought I should do. A family member who seemed genuinely proud of who I am and what I’ve achieved. Sadly, I lost my dad to a combination of illnesses in September. He was 85. I need to blog a bit about that, but I’m not quite ready.

Realizations

I realized a few things about my extensive traveling over the past two years.

First, even after spending more than half my time traveling, I still love to travel. There’s something very appealing to me about every day having the potential to be very different from the day before it. I love seeing new things and meeting new people. I love the challenge of plotting a course — whether it’s on a boat or in a car — and seeing where it takes me beyond just the expected geography. Of seeing how it helps me learn and grow as a person.

But, at the same time, I really do love my home and enjoy its comforts. It’s nice to have a washer, dryer, dishwasher, soaking tub, and unlimited water, electricity, and high speed Internet. I love the views and the privacy and the peace. I missed my garden and the chickens I had to give away. It’s easy to see why so many people would rather just stay home than explore beyond that, where things might not be as easy or as comfortable. But after just weeks at home starting in October, I was aching to get out again.

Home
I admit it: near the end of my Great Loop cruise, I was a little bit homesick.

Other things I realized:

  • I spend entirely too much time on social media. I’m only on Mastodon these days — an algorithm-free Twitter-like system with a much higher percentage of smart, socially conscious people than you’d find on Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram. That has fueled one of my two tiny resolutions: no browsing social media between 6 AM and 6 PM. I’m tired of so much of my time being sucked away. I want to be more productive.
  • I am losing focus of the things that matter to me. Those things are mostly my writing and other creative endeavors. I blame time wasted on social media for that. But I also blame myself for being so easily distracted. It’s another thing I need to work on in this new year.
  • I’m getting old. I’ve actually been realizing this bit by bit over time, but now it seems to be on my mind more. Feeling out of shape, losing the strength I had just 10 years ago when I was building my home. It’s harder to do some of the things I used to do with ease. Part of that is letting myself get heavier again; so much energy is wasted just moving my body around! Another part is simply not being as physically active as I was. That’s another thing I need to address in the new year. But another part is the fact that my friends are starting to die off or get seriously ill. I’m not the only one aging. Time is short for all of us.

Looking Forward to 2025

The completion of my Great Loop cruise — which had been a personal goal for a few years — left me without a goal or direction. I have some ideas of what I want to do in the next stage of my life and have taken a few steps toward those things. Using my boat captain credentials to teach people how to drive boats is just one part of that. Taking a break from long-term cruising and putting my boat into a charter fleet so it can earn me some money while being ready for me to cruise when it’s not booked is another. And yes, I even started a new business to manage both of those boat-related endeavors.

At the Beach with my Pups
Here’s a rare selfie of me sitting on the sand with my pups at Marineland’s beach.

But I think I’d also like to return to the northeast to do some cruising in New York and Canada. I just don’t want to do it in my current boat. I want to upsize. And I want to take others along to see what it’s like. To share the joy I feel when I cruise across a smooth body of water on a perfect day, or pull into a marina at a brand new destination, or drop anchor near a deserted beach.

And I think I’d like to spend my winters in Arizona, where I can look out the window and see desert hillsides studded with saguaro cacti, mesquite, and palo verde. Where I can feel the sun on my skin in December and January. That means selling my house — I know the folly of owning more than one home — which means downsizing. It also means finding the place that’s right for me. I think I have just one more move left in me so I need to make it count. And I know how hard it’s going to be to find a place that comes close to the near perfection of what I have now, someplace I can move to without regrets.

In the meantime, I need to finish a few projects I started that are related to the Great Loop trip. The biggest is the blog that has too many gaps in the account of the trip. That blog will eventually become a book — my first in nearly 10 years. That’s the kind of project I’d like to get done before the boating season starts again.