An experienced mariner knows most basic principle of seamanship: keep the water outside the skin of the ship. But what if you want water, for your health and convenience, inside a ship? Before modern systems aboard ship made potable water from seawater, sailors had to carry sufficient drinking water with them. Sailors rarely bathed. In the later years of sailing ships, mariners learned that cold water bathing, and clean clothes would prevent communicable disease, and foul odors (germs). Modern systems on larger vessels supply clean water for everything from cooling equipment to supplying sailors with drinking water and for food preparation. As an added personal benefit: hot water for showers.
Living ashore since retiring from the sea service, I have not had to go without clean clothes, nor without hot water for ages. This week our home water heater failed and for two days we were braving cool showers. Calling out a plumbing company – one who installed my unit happened to be a former Navy HT – was a smart move. I would have been out of my depth (pardon the pun) there.
With an older home, lots of unforeseen costs for safety systems raised the price and the complexity of the job. My wife and I opted for a better, “greener”, and only a little more expensive longer-term solution. A tankless system instead of an old technology- and shorter lived one. With other required modifications for federal, state, and local regulations, the cost had us briefly thinking, is cold water really all that horrible? But with my restless dreams about work in recent weeks, I never want to have nightmares about flooding -while at work – soothed by cold water showers!
As a member of a group of community-minded veterans, a calling grows louder in my ears the older I have become. Give back to the military community; be hospitable, and serve them and their families when they have need. During the Navy CPO “transition” season, veterans and civilians making a donation while getting a vehicle washed supports the new CPOs in training. A summer “Christmas party” for returning Marines and their families, encourages those who were deployed away from home during the holidays. Donations to military service organizations, participating in letter-writing campaigns on military -related issues, and in contributing to veteran-assistance projects at events sponsored by my employer all serve to help. In this blog, we find and highlight some of the “veterans-helping-veterans” support projects, enterprising ideas about self-employment, and share good news.
One of the community service programs I have yet to blog about, is the “Homeless Brigade”; members of my church congregation formed an outreach group to serve the homeless in San Diego county several years ago. Military veterans make up a significant percentage of the homeless in America; while showing kindness to the homeless, one often shows kindness to the veteran. Service is not just a “mission statement” however among those I worship with. The five congregations or “regions” of our San Diego church work in concert with a national and international fellowship of churches and a United Nations-recognized charitable organization.
I pray to be a good servant to God, a father, a husband, a son, a friend, a brother, an uncle, a good neighbor, a good leader to those who look up to me, a good follower to those who are serving God and doing the right thing. Mark Wahlberg
Called to model the ministry and compassion of Jesus Christ, some among our veteran community in my congregation have dedicated years to encouraging the poor and homeless. Inspiring younger church volunteers, who then made the mission their calling, our veteran community started a new campaign of service: practice hospitality serving Active Duty service members and their families on the military bases\units\ships where our members serve and work . Now we are organizing a day of fun, competition and barbecue at one of the San Diego beaches this summer. Perhaps this will lead to more opportunities to encourage young military men and women. They have dedicated their time, comfort, and often, safety, in service to the nation. Perhaps we will inspire them.
The Bible tells us that there are some things worth fighting for. In fact, the Bible says there’s some things worth dying for. Rick Warren
There are two certainties in life: Death and taxes. And a third, “if it sounds too good to be true, it isn’t true”. But there is also another truth. Politicians, bureaucrats and their backers (the news media, bankers, billionaire investors, or celebrities), all stir up chaos for their opponents, whip up groups of like-minded people by pretending to care for them, and make all sorts of speeches promising better times ahead.
The only difference between death and taxes is that death doesn’t get worse every time Congress meets.
Will Rogers, via Brainyquote.com
While people my age have heard all this nonsense before and are less inclined to go along, the palaver is not meant for my age group. Psychological journals, in various published studies, revel in the obvious. Young adults between 18 – 27, are more idealistic, much less structured in goals, exhibit more fluid work ethic, and are more motivated by income “fairness” and other talking points they read on social media. By the time men and women reach their Thirties, with stable jobs, goals, and families, these issues, rhetoric, and ‘social-justice’ activism become much less an influence. But the common talking points in social media and in politics today is how unfairly wealth is distributed. As a child, I was raised that hard work, skilled effort, ethics and morals would, over time elevate my station and economic success. There was plenty of room for anyone to become wealthy and provide for their families without blaming and taking from others. What changed?
Paying their “fair” share?
In 2019, I fear that people who have contributed to the economic well-being of the country for the least amount of time or produced the least amount of economic goods and services are being made fools of, by the wealthiest, least added-value members of society: politicians and bureaucrats funded by taxpayers. It is not that young people are in any way less important or less credible in their contributions and feelings, but forty percent of the Congress is far wealthier than those they represent. While every taxpayer in the United States can voluntarily contribute more to fund the Government, donate to charities for causes they feel strongly, and volunteer to aid those they feel are under-served, are there any who voluntarily give more than they are legally required? But most demand that Government support causes and constituents that are better served through local donations. And despite all the rhetoric we hear, does any public servant reside in public housing, use public transportation, or donate salaries and perks to the underprivileged?
Many, like one of my old college buddies, are worked up frequently about the lack of fairness and greed exhibited by members of a certain American political party, though there is plenty of blame to go around. Tonight, I am more worked up by my miscalculation on our annual income tax returns for Federal and State. We owe a large amount of income taxes due to the change in the approved deductions and income limits for other deductions. This is due to the “Trump Tax Cut” enacted in 2018. Researching the new tax policy, there are two ends of the economic spectrum that are benefiting, though the wealthiest Americans are benefiting far more.
Who benefits from the new tax plan?
With change in the standard deduction, doubling it to $24000 for those who file a joint return, many do not have to file complex returns. While there is some who think that increasing the “standard deduction” will reduce the incentive to make charitable contributions by lower middle-income workers, the tax policy really changes the taxes owed by the higher wage households- reducing the graduated scale of highest earning workers from 39 to 37 percent. And if those individuals are business owners, the rate may drop to 20 percent.
The people are hungry: It is because those in authority eat up too much in taxes.
For those caught in the “middle”, such as older taxpayers whose grown children are no longer family deductions, their seniority at work may elevate their incomes to higher tax brackets, and all the expenses of living and home ownership, there are disincentives to continuing to be an employee. But retirement also may come at a cost. Withdrawals from qualified retirement plans prior to age 59.5 incur income taxes and penalties. Some states like California tax retirement pensions, and with public service pensions largely unfunded, these states increase taxes to provide benefits and sacrifice the maintenance of infrastructure – roads, schools, and vital services.
Entrepreneurs and tax sense
Like many, I chose security of being an employee over most of my working life. But being a “worker” and not a “business owner” in 2019 has its tax disadvantages. Fair, ethical, and legal provisions used in the last twenty years have been significantly changed. While younger workers at lower wages and with young families may find some benefit from new tax provisions, others in the “Middle Class” are not as fortunate. Older, still working, married adults with now-adult children, who may still be providing for certain of their needs – no longer can claim them as deductions for tax purposes. Those fortunate to own homes in high property tax states, are limited in the amount they can claim federally- basically paying taxes a second time on the same income. Others, such as small business owners have complex tax rules to follow. The “Trump Tax Cut” seems to be flawed.
Some regulations should have come with bold print. With retirement savings such as employer 401K plans, IRAs and healthcare savings accounts available, these come with certain stipulations. Pre-tax income placed in flexible health spending accounts must be used within the calendar year or are lost; certain employer health plans can place pre-tax earnings in an account which can grow year after year, even into retirement, but must be used for medical expenses – or are taxed heavily. And for higher wage earners, traditional Individual Retirement Accounts, money invested for the purpose of reducing income taxes does not provide the immediate benefit sought.
The wealthiest Americans are fairing a lot better in 2019 than before. While true that the top 20 percent of all wage earners contribute the largest share of the revenue to fund the Government (50 percent of working Americans pay little income tax, while three percent contribute most of all), the overall taxes for those wealthiest Americans – many of whom are business owners – dropped significantly. I’m beginning to think that wealthy politicians are being disingenuous. They are not feeling nor acting in private like the outraged they claim to represent.
If people want to participate more fully in the “American Dream”, operating a successful business seems to be the vehicle to do so in 2019 and into the future. Except perhaps in California, or should the country decide to follow the anti-capitalist and anti-constitutional policies that have been voiced since the President’s election. A look at statistics indicates that the country is not in jeopardy of an economic crisis as some suggest. In the United States in 2017, the median family income was $61,000; in California, $81, 000, according to the US Census Bureau. While there are many who are at the extremes in California and elsewhere, there are many who have gained wealth and property through operating successful businesses.
Paying closer attention to income tax, balance sheets, and government policies that affect income is necessary. But that comes with age and the acquisition of property. All the rest is just politics.
Mention grinders to an older Navy veteran, generally brings to mind the large parade ground we marched around in Bootcamp. But “grinder” also means a particular type of sandwich. In Southern California, while there are different names: submarine sandwiches, hoagies, and grinders, there are some places that are vastly different than the franchises that pop up everywhere. And in El Cajon, California, not far from my home, is an institution 50 years in the making, The Grinder.
I actually only stopped in Thursday night at the request of my son, a Vocational Nurse working the evening shift, for a sub specifically made there. It might have been my first visit though I have lived in the area twenty years. After a long workday and a long, rainy evening commute, but I would drive an extra few miles for a sandwich.
It was not a fancy place. A video game table of the sort I had not seen in thirty years was against the wall. On the walls, were Navy-themed art, a Bible quote, articles on the history of this deli, a plaque honoring fifty years, and pictures of local kids. But the one I noted just before ordering was the image of the late Chief John Finn, Medal of Honor recipient (Pearl Harbor) on the wall. The kids working there know whose picture it is. San Diego County is a military community, and El Cajon in the part known as “East County” is home to a large population of veterans going back to the Second World War.
“where do we eat and what show do we go to?”
On date night, quickly planned, even the retired Senior Chief’s understanding wife may have felt a grinder was sub-expectations. The mall was packed with Friday-night families. As it turned out, a little pastry and coffee with live music at a coffee house we like was perfect. We knew the music and lyrics; the acoustics were okay, and probably because the band and their fans are all about the same ages, they concluded at a reasonable hour on a Friday night. 7:30 is almost bedtime.
So much for foodies partying into the wee hours (7:30PM)
Reading some of my old letters my late mother kept in her scrapbook, I appreciate jogging memories of my initial service in the Navy forty years ago. At the time, I was stuck in limbo, waiting on orders, waiting on a medical evaluation, and bored. I had spent eighteen months training for a career as an electronics technician in San Diego, in Illinois, in Florida and again in San Diego. When I had received an opportunity to attend the Naval Academy, a medical evaluation accompanying the selection board was possibly going to prevent that. In the meantime, I was assigned to support a correctional unit on Naval Training Center San Diego, to guard and escort sailors confined and others pending transfer to the Naval Brig.
“January 13 1978
I was paid this morning and I have finally got some money in my pocket after being in the depths of poverty for the last week. I’ve been keeping a budget book to account for every penny. Setting aside a $120 to send to you to save for me, I spent most of my last paycheck on a stereo receiver and headphones. I got a great deal as the stereo store said it was a trade-in and not brand-new.
I have been chugging away at BE & E. My Learning Supervisor is better at getting the material across to me than reading the book. And I am frustrated at the computer based training – that I am taking remedial tests every time.
Next weekend I am thinking of the YMCA’s military special to Disneyland – everything including bus ride and ticket, for $14.75…. “
When I read these letters I recall that my focus was split between very difficult technical training, spending money slower than earning it, having a good time, and the things a sailor thinks about: cars, girls, staying out of trouble, and so on. And taking care of my mom.
“February 18, 1978
…it’s been a week since I was home for that short visit…. I’m expecting to finish BE and E School (Basic Electricity and Electronics) in seven working days and then ice and snow! (I was scheduled to transfer for further training at the Great Lakes NTC north of Chicago) I have been trying to spend money and save it at the same time….
I bought two books ” How to Buy Stocks” and “How to Build a Fortune Investing in Land””
“July 3 1978
Class 7825C, ET/A school Bldg 520, Great Lakes Training Center: Thunder and lightning this weekend. Thank you for the ever-increasing moral support. It helps this “screw-up” when I seem to be trying and trying over these multiple -choice tests and I miss the question because I don’t put down my first choice but over think them! Why can’t I learn! Some solace in that I got my PO3 raise today. A whole $10.
Congratulations on your new friend and you both seem to be on the same “astral plane”. And my little sister has a boyfriend! She is growing up fast. I ran into a friend who is very close to a bachelors degree having taking a lot of courses through the CLEP tests. He’s looking at Officer Candidate School and making some career-connections with several officers involved in the program. He’s shared with me several of the courses and tests to take should the Annapolis thing not get accepted. Studying electronics harder will give me a mental breakdown. I need some thing different.
I looked at that Naval Academy application. I think they want someone who is a cross between O.J. Simpson and Albert Einstein, not me!”
In the year between my initial training in San Diego, and returning back to San Diego, I had been undergoing technical training and screening for a government security clearance. Between the training, standing watches, and liberty in Chicago and Milwaukee, I was also trying to figure out if I could afford a TransAm like one in the movie Smokey and the Bandit. It was nearly eleven thousand dollars. I couldn’t. I did learn a lot about weather. Playing pool in the barracks. Guys who were playing some role-playing fantasy called Dungeons and Dragons. A summer music festival at the Navy Pier in Chicago. And working on cars. Being in the best physical shape of my life while in Pensacola, Florida. Running several miles a few times a week that started from a dare between roommates in the barracks while attending CT – school. A circuit of the base, inside the fence was about four miles. We would run it twice a night.
“Letter dated August 2 – 5, and 8, 1979
It’s the second day of August, and in one day following the
most insane twenty-four hours I have yet spent at TPU (ed: Transient Personnel Unit), I think I shall be ready for the funny
farm very soon.
Let me tell you some of the the goings-on at our “Hotel California”. Yesterday, we got a new boatload of lunies (sic) plus one who is trying to put one over on us that he’s nuts, and he is getting my goat.
Another case is my boss Chief Heller. His retiring soon and he continues to drop in
on Bldg 23 if only to holler and cuss everyone.
It is just as if he’s giving out a daily dose of castor oil.
Still another example was last night’s supposed-to-work-flawlessly relief of the day watch. A PO1(Petty Officer First Class) who knew he had duty never showed up, and despite all my efforts couldn’t be found anywhere on-base. No one knew who I was looking for- even though he was supposedly assigned to the same working area! So, as a result, an overworked PO2, a good friend of mine, was forced to stay all night as well as his morning workday.
In addition, I was forced to work late (a 13-hour day) which
it turns out shall be my regular working hours.
It was either that or work 10 hours plus have an extra watch in TPU
every three days.
Today was continued insanity when, in the early afternoon, one of our “mental” cases went berserk and smashed a wood-covered (barricaded) window with a chair. He demanded to go to the brig or he would do more damage! It’s a good thing I don’t sleep there- I don’t know if some night I might get my throat cut by one of these scumbags.
Tonight I went to the PO Club with two friends, George, who works in the NTC Police/Decal Office, and June who also works there. We all had a good time. But what occurred later is interesting. Well, June got very drunk, I was sober and George nearly so. June had to be talked into being escorted to her barracks. George (who went with her) in her car and I followed behind in mine. June wandered all over the road at speed and I sped up to catch her. And out of the dark an NTC (Naval Training Center) police vehicle pulled ME over. Luckily, he was a friend but since I was “rocketing along” at 20 or 30 MPH, he wouldn’t let me drive back to TPU. A quarter-mile walk later I was sober; June was the one all over the road – I’m sure the cop saw her. That will be the last of my “good Samaritan” gestures.
August 5, 1979
Yesterday I finally bought the 10-speed bicycle I was [going to get you] shopping two weeks. I’m sure you will love it, as a matter of fact I wanted to buy one for myself from the same people. Now I have only one detail to work out and that is how to get it home. Two possibilities are open to me, but I don’t know how much it will cost me to ship it, so if you don’t mind I am going to wait till I hand-deliver it.
In other news I have been heartened by a lot of mail, especially yours and from Nana, but I’m going through a lot of ups and downs. I’m almost at the end of my rope as far as this Restriction/ CC (Correctional Custody) “babysitter” job goes. Today I got yelled at for these a@#$@#$ goofing off even as I have been trying to imitate Attila the Hun with them .
I’m starting another entry in the ‘journal’ after putting the
pen down for two days. I am just putting down thoughts as they come to mind. My
mind is awfully screwed being run ragged.
I think I will drop this topic in favor of other topics to ramble on
Tomorrow I’ll begin packing a few things for the trip to San Francisco and I’m going to hopefully make a weekend out of it. What is your reaction to the earthquake this week? It think it is about time for the city to fall into the sea?
It’s all a bit tedious. I’ll hopefully be home sooner or later. “
These letters bring back some of the missing names – and the memory -recalling the faces of those Chiefs at TPU. These memories seem as fresh as having occurred yesterday. The more I recall of those months in school, in training, and time at the transient barracks, I am amused by the complaining, angst, self-righteousness, stubbornness, and shock of having to work long hours. In this particular letter, the reference to “Hotel California” my mother probably would have missed – her musical taste was stuck in the early 1960s and she never heard of the Eagles. But I was fortunate that my mother, who pursued a second career as a college English teacher around that time, and worked a full-time nursing job, never pointed out my ‘overworked’ complaints. As I look back after forty years of military and civilian jobs – on my youngest co-workers and their peers – their complaints about fairness, working conditions, and emotional safe-spaces are more their age than something “we” never did.
There’s kind of a Zen aspect to bowling. The pins are either staying up or down before you even throw your arm back. It’s kind of a mind-set. You want to be in this perfect mind-set before you released the ball. – Jeff Bridges
My church has started an outreach and special support ministry for Active and former military veterans and their families. Supporting the deployed Sailors and Marines, serving their families in the area, and sharing the Word of God with others is a privilege. Cutting up at the bowling alley on the Naval Base is just pure family fun.
There are things I thought about when we first talked about going bowling as a first “activity” for our growing group. An odd cult movie I watched twenty years ago, “the Big Lebowski”, which starred Jeff Bridges and among many inappropriate themes in that film was a lot of bowling. Just thinking about it, I have to repent again!
But bowling or pool or darts were a few of the activities that I could join and never get overly concerned about my lack of skill and just enjoy the friendship. Probably a couple dozen times over forty years I’ve been to bowling alleys, half of the time while in the Navy and the other half, as a teen, or as a post-forty year old adult family man with other families in our church fellowship. However, this was the first time we gathered to bowl as part of a “military ministry”.
Most, well all, of us absolutely stunk as bowlers. But we know from scripture, where two or more followers of Jesus are gathered, He is with us. So I have some hope that Jesus will help us with our game. Whether knocking down pins or gaining new friends and saving a few souls in the process.
As a retired military man I am grateful that I am not deployed to far away seas these days. In San Diego, this holiday weekend has been an opportunity to meet with friends. Saturday with an outdoor concert by the San Diego Symphony at the downtown waterfront ending with Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture (with cannons!), Sunday with a gathering at Mission Bay, and today for breakfast at a restaurant our friends have enjoyed since the husband was a child.
In the late summer in the American West, life has challenges including “excessive heat” warnings, brush and forest fires, snarled traffic, and where to go for a getaway that is not “tourist pricey”. Living in a region that everyone heads toward: beaches, nearby islands, amusement parks, and mountain retreats, I want to avoid all these in summer. Of course, getting out away from the crowds of people for the weekend leaves the desert and the deep sea. Without a boat of my own, the sea is out of the question and the desert – only a few foolhardy migrants and the Border Patrol are out there in August.
Last weekend, in a spur-of-the-moment outing to celebrate my birthday, my spouse and I thought we would go to Catalina Island off the coast southeast of Los Angeles. With no ferry seats on a return trip that day, we looked elsewhere. The popular amusement parks like Disneyland were off-limits, not because of the crowds, but because our annual Pass does not permit entry during the popular summer months for tourists. And Nature was also causing chaos. Brush fires along destinations we alternately considered were, like the Spirit blocking the Apostle Paul’s travel to Asia, directing me to go north up the I-15 freeway. And so we went to Temecula, about sixty miles north of San Diego.
Yet no road trip with my wife is properly prepared unless she has a large cup of fresh – or at least, recently-brewed UNSWEETENED ice tea at launch and part-way through the adventure. I could write reviews on scores of places , “convenience” stores and “fast food” drive-in windows, who must not sell a lot of unsweetened, fresh tea. When you no longer tolerate sugary soft drinks, water is about the only other choice. Even the dozen brands of bottled iced tea are a last resort. Does anyone really like a passion-fruit-flavored Iced Tea beverage? (For my European and British-tradition tea drinking readers, while you have no idea whatsoever about “iced” tea as a beverage, it is consumed by the millions of gallons annually in the United States. I have had Britons and Irishmen in those respective countries look at me as completely mad when I described brewed tea, refrigerated and poured over ice.)
Once her tea is secured, and the approximate travel time between consumption and the need for the first bathroom stop is calculated in my driving computer ( my head) we set off. As anyone in Mid-Life, who travels frequently with their spouse, that is, fifty-ish, the climate control in the vehicle is a frequent issue. I generally like the air conditioning ON in the car anytime the outside temperature is above 75F. Normally we are at opposite extremes -when she is cold I am hot. When I am comfortable, she pulls out a sweatshirt or a jacket. If roll a window down, she wants it up. And so on.
At least now with our lifestyle that can at times be confused with the “Atkins diet”, the “Keto diet”, “Paleo diet” or “vegetarian”-ish, we do not bother with correcting folks. I can eat anything, though I choose more often to eat healthy food and in smaller portions. So what is the meaning of “Paleo donuts”?
The Paleo diet seems to be at odds with any encounter with donuts. However, as some may be aware, I have been focusing on a better diet and exercise for much of the last eight or nine months. I do not subscribe to fads, particularly ones identified with the eating habits of extinct people. But on our travels into Temecula, we found a farmers’ market I talked about in an earlier post . I spotted a vendor offering samples of donuts and like a smart aleck, opined that that they would have to be gluten-free or Paleo -diet friendly for me to accept. Those were.
When someone has the opportunity to eat his own words, and if they are in a donut, I will. Without regret or “cheating”. A sliver at a time.
One of the best examples of community is how we give of our time, and of our money to the less fortunate. While most recognize that members of our own species needs aid, love and compassion, there are others that we can help. I was introduced to a few examples of this today. Sometimes, it is noteworthy to recognize those who help rescue canines in need.
Several times a year, at the main campus in Carlsbad, my company hosts expos for charitable organizations in San Diego – supporting a children’s hospital, or fighting cancer, or health and wellness, or disaster preparedness. Or like today, when a few San Diego animal rescue groups came with their furry ambassadors to raise awareness in the community. The volunteers who organize and man these outreach programs wear their hearts on their sleeve. These all-volunteer groups raise funds to support…
The first thing I noticed about my wife’s choice of venue for her former nursing student-graduates gathering, was how loud and crowded it got after 6:30PM on Friday. First, it was surprising to me that “loud” was something I would be annoyed with. And second, I am also annoyed at thinking it a “crowded” venue which the over-forty crowd seemed to enjoy. While I have been in Navy CPO clubs and Navy aviator officer’s clubs in San Diego, this was my first time in the 94th Aero Squadron, a public restaurant with an a military and aviation theme.
Friday evening commutes in San Diego are typically one that I will stop to have a cigar at a favorite lounge on the way home from work. However, this past Friday, my wife invited me to join her while she waited for a couple nurses to join her at the restaurant and bar that borders Montgomery Field municipal airport. With the tri-winged red airplane out front, reminiscent of the Red Baron, I would not be mocked too much if I asked where was Snoopy in his Sopwith Camel doghouse.
While they reminisced about their time at the school (my wife’s employer) and chatted about kids, medicine and the training, I drifted off. And then I needed a second glass of something to ward off the chill. While San Diego rarely gets weather that has anyone scurrying for jackets, wool caps or gloves, this was one of those cool weeks. Part of this restaurant was open air, looking out on the airfield, which on any other week of the year, would have been very pleasant. The cool evening also spurred me to risk ( my Keto diet regimen) two glasses of merlot.
I thought it was a great place for a happy hour. The service and the appetizers were – on my carefully chosen sampling – quite good. But as the happy hour crowd left and the evening crowd of forty-somethings started partying, the loud music, the cool, and the 8 o’clock hour on Friday night is about all the partying my wife and I can handle.
If a sloth is the new image of cool, then I am still a “party animal”
Google Maps gave me driving directions around the worst of my evening commute tonight that inspired this blog post. While I have made prior references to driving through San Diego at rush hour, it is pointless to meander along that sordid topic – it is only going to get worse and not better. However, I can use the time to make some observations about some of my fellow Southern Californians.
Driving through an obviously middle class neighborhood in suburban San Diego this late afternoon, two weeks prior to the Christmas holiday, I was intrigued that no more than perhaps one in forty homes displayed Christmas decorations or lights of any kind. This was not a section of the city that appeared bound by any homeowners association prohibition, nor a singularly Muslim area or commune of Ascetic monks, It was a single-family style, $600, 000-average price neighborhood (for California, a little more than the median price for 2017.)
I am not denigrating anyone for NOT displaying Christmas decorations, and I in no way attribute Santa Claus, decorated trees, inflatable Minion or Harley-riding Santa Claus to the Birth of Jesus. But I find it very “unusual”. For a nation that spends a lot on holiday cheer regardless of their spiritual aspirations, (a retail survey calculated that Americans spent $3.2 Billion on decorations, lights, trees and so forth in 2015) I found it unusual. In neighborhoods that become a festive attraction for the surrounding communities, band saws in garages start going in September, and decorations start being put up on the Black Friday shopping day. I thought I would look up the relationship between decorations and personality. One article was particularly interesting in perceptions. An experiment was conducted on observers perceptions using pictures of groups of more socially-engaged neighbors, not socially-engaged (keep-to-themselves sort), each with decorated and not-decorated homes. People who were generally unable to distinguish between social traits for decorated homes, could generally determine the level of social interaction of people with non-decorated homes. People can tell what you are like by the stuff in your environment.
Next post, I may discuss why some late-middle-age men like to tootle around town in a fire-engine red, convertible Porsche Carrera, and why some young people driving Civics, or BMW 3-series, or a 3-cylinder Prius, feel the need to be the most ignorant drivers on the road.