Stanley, ID

Yet another photo from my midlife crisis road trip.

I rolled into Stanley, ID one day on the second half of my trip. I’d started the day in McCall, ID, and would end it in Sheridan, MT. According to my notes, I drove 452 miles that day. It was one of the longest driving days of the trip.

Stanley, IDI was immediately struck by the beauty of Stanley. It was a nice, small town with the Salmon River running through it. The Sawtooth Mountains bordered the area to the southwest, the direction I’d come from.

Stanley has an airport, which I was quick to check out. Unfortunately, the elevation there is 6403. Although that’s fine for operations in my helicopter at less than max gross weight, heavy loads at high temperatures affect performance at that altitude. It would limit my capabilities. And, after all, the whole reason for my trip was to find a summer (or year round) place to live and operate my business. Stanley, although beautiful, was not the answer.

I took this picture as I was heading out of town. I stopped alongside the road, got out of the car, and pointed the camera back toward town. Down along the river, two people were riding by on horseback with a pair of dogs. The drive so far that day had been very refreshing, following one mountain stream or river after another. Although I didn’t know it then, in less than 3 days I’d be back in the desert, missing all that flowing water.

Fan Mail

Why I find it so embarrassing.

Every once in a while, I get an e-mail message that’s clearly categorizable as fan mail. The messages are usually the same in tone: “I can’t believe how much you’ve accomplished! I try to do some of the things you do and can’t manage to succeed. How do you do it?” The only thing they don’t say is “You’re my idol,” but if you read between the lines sometimes, it’s there.

I’m embarrassed by all this.

I’m a pretty normal person from a pretty average background. Lower middle class parents, not much money in the family. I got my first jobs at age 13: paper route, babysitting, fence painting. Because there weren’t too many things handed to me, I quickly learned that if I wanted something, I had to work to get it. So I did.

(Personally, I think this is why America is doomed. With so many parents handing out things to their kids, kids don’t build healthy work ethics. They’re lazy and unmotivated, concerned more with what they’re wearing than what they’re learning, and someday they’ll be running this country. Hopefully, I’ll be dead by then. But I digress.)

I think the only thing that sets me apart from other people is that I’m driven. I see something I want to achieve and I do what I can to achieve it. I work hard almost all the time. As I finish one project, achieve one goal, I’m thinking of the next.

Back in college, I took a management course where they discussed Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. At the top of the pyramid is Self Actualization, the need that must be filled after all others are filled. The trouble is, if you fulfill the need for self actualization, there’s nothing left. So to remain happy, self actualization must always be growing and changing, like a moving target. That’s the way I understood it back in my late teens. And I think that’s what drives me to this day — the need to always have something different to reach for and achieve. I think you can say that I live for challenges.

But are my achievements that incredible? I don’t think so. I admit that I’m fortunate in that I have a good brain and decent health (although the health thing has been a bit questionable lately), but there’s nothing special about me. I’m not a genius. I don’t live on four hours of sleep a night (I wish!). I’m not rich. I just make the most of what life’s dealt me.

People marvel at my achievements as a writer. I’ve written 60+ books and hundreds of articles since 1992. Do you think that’s because I’m the world’s greatest writer? Of course not! It’s because writers generally don’t make much money, so if you want to earn a living as a writer, you have to produce an awful lot. I learned how to work with editors and publishers to deliver what they wanted when they wanted it. My mind has the ability to take a task and break it down into its most basic steps — this is natural to me and I don’t know why. My writing skills make it easy to communicate the steps of a task to readers — my writing skills come from years of reading and writing. I don’t let ego get in the way of delivering what my editors want. By reliably producing year after year, I got into a position where I didn’t have to look for work anymore. It looked for me. I kept producing. And I still keep producing.

People think it’s incredible that I fly a helicopter. It’s not that incredible. It took me a year and a half of part-time lessons, driving 180 miles round trip each lesson day and thousands of dollars, to build my flight time and to get my private helicopter license. That’s not an achievement — it’s perseverance and the willingness to throw large sums of money at what I thought would be a hobby. If I’d quit doing my other work for a while, I could have completed that training in three months. But you’re not independently wealthy or supported by someone with deep pockets, you have to work before you can play. And, for the record, just about anyone can learn to fly. Helicopters aren’t harder to fly than airplanes, either; they’re just different. Anyone who says they’re harder to learn is using that as an excuse for not really trying. Unfortunately, they are more expensive to learn. And that’s usually the stumbling block that stops people from learning.

You want to achieve something? Go out and do it! Stop making excuses, stop procrastinating, and for God’s sake, stop watching crap on television — the eternal time-waster. Only when you dedicate yourself to your goal, fitting each task of its achievement into your regular work and family schedule, can you make it happen.

If you keep at it, the achievement of one goal will surely lead to the next.

And please, stop embarrassing me with fan mail.

A Town on the Coast of Maine

But which one?

I put off writing about this photo because I wasn’t sure exactly where I snapped it. I know it’s in Maine and I know I took in in October, when Mike and I went to spend a week with John and Lorna at their place in Winterport. I wrote about the trip in my old blog, but it hasn’t made it to this blog yet. (I still have about 60 entries to import; I did about 12 yesterday.)

The Coast of MaineThere’s no place in the world that looks as much like New England as some of these New England coastal towns. It’s the harbors, I think, filled with all kinds of boats, and the typical New England style architecture all around. And the colors, too.

I took this photo late in the afternoon from a park overlooking the harbor. We’d just spent a while walking around the town, browsing shops. It had been a foggy morning — every morning was foggy while we were there — and if you have really sharp eyes, you can see the fog bank way out to sea in this photo. (It may be easier to see in the larger header version of this image, which should eventually rotate to the top of this page if it isn’t already showing.)

I’m not sure what town this is. We did a lot of driving up and down the coast. It might be Searsport, Belfast (my vote), Camden, Rockport, or Rockland. (I admit that I’m looking at a map right now, trying to figure it out.) I’m hoping Lorna or Larry read this soon and use the comment link to tell us.

One more thing: there can’t be anyplace else in the country that’s more different from central Arizona than the coast of Maine. It was a great trip, refreshing to be back in a place where rain and fog were relatively common weather phenomena and where I could smell the salt air almost everywhere I went.

New York City from the Whitestone Bridge

A photo taken from a moving vehicle.

New York City from the Whitestone BridgeOne of the great things about digital cameras is that you can snap as many stupid pictures as you like. You can then just delete them all without any money or film or paper wasted. But once in a while, one of those stupid pictures is a keeper. That’s what I think about this photo I took while Mike was driving us across the Whitestone Bridge, from the Bronx to Queens, the day after Thanksgiving, 2005.

Thanksgiving Day had been cold, rainy, and relatively miserable. Of course, we didn’t really see it that way. Living in Arizona, you get to really appreciate rain. So experiencing it firsthand is a nice thing, even if you had to travel 2,400 miles for the privilege.

The next day dawned clear, with blue skies. The kind of day that’s common in Arizona but rather precious in New York. We were scheduled to have our second Thanksgiving dinner in Queens with Mike’s family. Although Mike’s mom lives a stone’s throw away from the Throgs Neck Bridge in Queens, you need to take the Whitestone to get to her. As Mike drove over, I was enjoying the view of New York. I snapped a bunch of pictures and this one actually came out okay.

What I like about this picture is the ship and the airplane. I don’t know why. The plane had just departed from La Guardia Airport, which is to the left, just out of the photo.

What I don’t like about this picture is what’s missing. Since September 11, 2001, I’ve only been back to New York about five times. Seeing the skyline without the World Trade Center is still difficult for me. It was such a fixture in the minds of anyone who knew the skyline — especially people who regularly saw it from a distance in New Jersey or Queens or Brooklyn. New York seems somehow older and smaller without those two towers. Probably because the tallest building in the city is, once again, the Empire State Building, completed way back in 1934.

Anyway, I know this isn’t a great picture. The color is a bit weird and the focus is kind of fuzzy. But it’s a reminder of my roots, of life in the big city, where things are busy and vibrant and everything is moving very fast all of the time.

Asian Martini

For unwinding on a lazy weekend afternoon, when driving (or flying) is not in your immediate future.

Ingredients

  • 3 oz premium vodka – don’t use junk liquor; you’ll be drinking this almost straight
  • splash of plum wine – for an extra dry version of this drink, use a teaspoon; if you’re the kind who likes white zinfandel wine, make that a generous splash
  • ice – I use cubes, but that’s because I don’t have patience to wait for the icemaker to crush the ice

Mixing Instructions

  1. Add all ingredients to a martini shaker (with strainer).
  2. Shake for 60 seconds.
  3. Pour through strainer into chilled martini glass.

Enjoy.

BTW, in some Japanese restaurants a 50-50 mix of vodka and plum wine served over ice is known as a Samarai. It’s a killer drink and not intended for the designated driver.