RJM62
Touchdown! Greaser!
- Joined
- Jun 15, 2007
- Messages
- 13,157
- Location
- Upstate New York
- Display Name
Display name:
Geek on the Hill
Well, after a series of personal and relationship issues (which also were responsible for my absence from Web boards for a while -- real life kept getting in the way), I found myself with no remaining reasons to remain in the city.
I'd stayed for business, but my primary business (Web design) I can do from anywhere I can get good Internet. Then I stayed for a relationship, but that sputtered out a couple of years ago. And so on, and so on. One by one, my reasons for staying in NYC disappeared.
Not being one to quit, I fought against the obvious for a couple of months. For example, I had been considering reconciling with the ex, but she's gone back to substance abuse, which should have immediately ruled that out for me. But I was reluctant to let go, despite the fact that her and her family increasingly treated me like dirt (except when they needed something).
With regard to my charitable activities, in retrospect, it also was obvious that it was time for me to move on. But I kept fighting against the obvious. My continued involvement was actually standing in the way of what needed to happen next. And that's what I was fighting against: My identity was too tied up in the things I did "for others," and I didn't want to admit that I was in it for myself at that point.
The best analogy I can come up with is teaching someone to fly. At some point, the student has to solo. Another analogy would be teaching a little kid to ride a bike. At some point you have to let go of the bicycle and let the kid balance and ride it alone.
But I was reluctant to let go.
Eventually (and with no offense meant to the atheists here), I believe that God impressed upon me that it was time for me to go to my reward. No, not that reward. I'm not ready for the afterlife just yet. But it has always been my dream to retire (or in my case, semi-retire) to a place in the country like the one I loved when I was a child.
You have to understand that although I was born and raised in the city, I never really liked living there very much. Yes, it had its advantages, and I made the most of them. But overall, I've always preferred the country. This undoubtedly started with the little bungalow in the boondocks that my family owned when I was little. It was my favorite place in the world. I always hoped to retire somewhere very much like it.
And it was time.
Sometimes God slaps me upside the head to make a point because I'm a pretty stubborn individual by nature. But this time, he took a gentler tack. He used the first line of Ecclesiastes 3: "For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." It kept popping into my head whenever I looked at the things I was involved with, and the things I'd accomplished. I was pleased with what I'd done. I had done very well in most cases. Not perfectly, but as well as I could. I had helped many people, never asking anything in return. I had done well.
And now it was time to move on.
Through a series of unlikely coincidences, doors were opened for me to move to a place in the country. I found a place that I liked as a result of a rather comical ad I placed on Craig's List, more as a goof than anything else. It's in a community that I like, in a quiet and secluded place. But the local phone company's RDSLAM is mounted on a pole across from the driveway (hence great DSL), and it's only a mile away from a major highway.
Also, it's about an hour and a quarter from my elderly parents' home, which is about the right distance: close enough for me to check on them, but not close enough that we drive each other crazy.
In addition, my new place has great cell phone service with T-Mobile (I can see the tower from my bedroom window), to whose service I'd recently switched on the advice of my friend in the business. That was also interesting. I'd asked him to hook me up with another carrier that has better coverage overall up here, but my friend pushed hard for me to go with T-Mobile instead. Was God at it again? Who could have guessed that T-Mobile would be the carrier to have at a place I hadn't even found yet?
Another little thing that I think was God's doing had to do with my Metrocard, which is the fare card used for the NYC transit system. Metrocards don't usually wind up with exactly enough money left on them for a given number of fares. There are various bonuses on refills that don't always equal a ride, and some rides cost more than the standard $2.25 (like express buses, for example).
But when I had to go to Manhattan for one last time to tie up some loose ends before moving, there was $4.50 left on my card -- exactly enough for the fare there and back. I was left with an "empty" (zero-balance) Metrocard.
I don't think that's ever happened to me before. There has always been some odd amount of money left -- not enough for a fare, but more than zero. I think the zero-balance card was another message from God: "Hey, you're done here. It's okay to move on now."
In the process of packing, I also found a treasured item I'd misplaced: My old NYC reservoir fishing permit, which was issued to me when I was 15 years old and which bears one of the few pictures of me at that age. The place I live now is in the Pepacton watershed, a short drive from one of the NYC reservoirs, where there's great fishing. Maybe God was telling me to relax and go fishing.
So... I'm now living in a cabin in rural New York State, far from the noise, traffic, and aggravation of the city. I found a place that's quiet and secluded, yet close a main road (NY-17, soon-to-be Interstate 86). Most importantly, it also has great DSL service (thank you, Frontier Communications).
I'm acclimating well to country life. I installed a CB radio in the car yesterday, as well as a Sirius radio (there are, like, no radio stations here); and today I changed my valve cover gasket out in the grass (real rednecks fix their own cars). When I was done, as if on cue, my three neighbors stopped by to watch me start the engine and help me stare at it for a while.
Once we all agreed that the gasket wasn't leaking, we nodded approvingly, scratched our beards, enjoyed cheap beers, and talked about deer and women for a while. Then I went in and made sausage, peppers, and onions.
So in summary, I'm thoroughly enjoying this country living thing. I'm also looking for a trike instructor, as I can't think of a better kind of flying to do up here than flying a trike. I even have room to park a trailerable trike right next to my cabin, and several dinky airfields to fly it from.
I guess you can call me the "Nouveau-Hillbilly." Life is good.
-Rich
I'd stayed for business, but my primary business (Web design) I can do from anywhere I can get good Internet. Then I stayed for a relationship, but that sputtered out a couple of years ago. And so on, and so on. One by one, my reasons for staying in NYC disappeared.
Not being one to quit, I fought against the obvious for a couple of months. For example, I had been considering reconciling with the ex, but she's gone back to substance abuse, which should have immediately ruled that out for me. But I was reluctant to let go, despite the fact that her and her family increasingly treated me like dirt (except when they needed something).
With regard to my charitable activities, in retrospect, it also was obvious that it was time for me to move on. But I kept fighting against the obvious. My continued involvement was actually standing in the way of what needed to happen next. And that's what I was fighting against: My identity was too tied up in the things I did "for others," and I didn't want to admit that I was in it for myself at that point.
The best analogy I can come up with is teaching someone to fly. At some point, the student has to solo. Another analogy would be teaching a little kid to ride a bike. At some point you have to let go of the bicycle and let the kid balance and ride it alone.
But I was reluctant to let go.
Eventually (and with no offense meant to the atheists here), I believe that God impressed upon me that it was time for me to go to my reward. No, not that reward. I'm not ready for the afterlife just yet. But it has always been my dream to retire (or in my case, semi-retire) to a place in the country like the one I loved when I was a child.
You have to understand that although I was born and raised in the city, I never really liked living there very much. Yes, it had its advantages, and I made the most of them. But overall, I've always preferred the country. This undoubtedly started with the little bungalow in the boondocks that my family owned when I was little. It was my favorite place in the world. I always hoped to retire somewhere very much like it.
And it was time.
Sometimes God slaps me upside the head to make a point because I'm a pretty stubborn individual by nature. But this time, he took a gentler tack. He used the first line of Ecclesiastes 3: "For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." It kept popping into my head whenever I looked at the things I was involved with, and the things I'd accomplished. I was pleased with what I'd done. I had done very well in most cases. Not perfectly, but as well as I could. I had helped many people, never asking anything in return. I had done well.
And now it was time to move on.
Through a series of unlikely coincidences, doors were opened for me to move to a place in the country. I found a place that I liked as a result of a rather comical ad I placed on Craig's List, more as a goof than anything else. It's in a community that I like, in a quiet and secluded place. But the local phone company's RDSLAM is mounted on a pole across from the driveway (hence great DSL), and it's only a mile away from a major highway.
Also, it's about an hour and a quarter from my elderly parents' home, which is about the right distance: close enough for me to check on them, but not close enough that we drive each other crazy.
In addition, my new place has great cell phone service with T-Mobile (I can see the tower from my bedroom window), to whose service I'd recently switched on the advice of my friend in the business. That was also interesting. I'd asked him to hook me up with another carrier that has better coverage overall up here, but my friend pushed hard for me to go with T-Mobile instead. Was God at it again? Who could have guessed that T-Mobile would be the carrier to have at a place I hadn't even found yet?
Another little thing that I think was God's doing had to do with my Metrocard, which is the fare card used for the NYC transit system. Metrocards don't usually wind up with exactly enough money left on them for a given number of fares. There are various bonuses on refills that don't always equal a ride, and some rides cost more than the standard $2.25 (like express buses, for example).
But when I had to go to Manhattan for one last time to tie up some loose ends before moving, there was $4.50 left on my card -- exactly enough for the fare there and back. I was left with an "empty" (zero-balance) Metrocard.
I don't think that's ever happened to me before. There has always been some odd amount of money left -- not enough for a fare, but more than zero. I think the zero-balance card was another message from God: "Hey, you're done here. It's okay to move on now."
In the process of packing, I also found a treasured item I'd misplaced: My old NYC reservoir fishing permit, which was issued to me when I was 15 years old and which bears one of the few pictures of me at that age. The place I live now is in the Pepacton watershed, a short drive from one of the NYC reservoirs, where there's great fishing. Maybe God was telling me to relax and go fishing.
So... I'm now living in a cabin in rural New York State, far from the noise, traffic, and aggravation of the city. I found a place that's quiet and secluded, yet close a main road (NY-17, soon-to-be Interstate 86). Most importantly, it also has great DSL service (thank you, Frontier Communications).
I'm acclimating well to country life. I installed a CB radio in the car yesterday, as well as a Sirius radio (there are, like, no radio stations here); and today I changed my valve cover gasket out in the grass (real rednecks fix their own cars). When I was done, as if on cue, my three neighbors stopped by to watch me start the engine and help me stare at it for a while.
Once we all agreed that the gasket wasn't leaking, we nodded approvingly, scratched our beards, enjoyed cheap beers, and talked about deer and women for a while. Then I went in and made sausage, peppers, and onions.
So in summary, I'm thoroughly enjoying this country living thing. I'm also looking for a trike instructor, as I can't think of a better kind of flying to do up here than flying a trike. I even have room to park a trailerable trike right next to my cabin, and several dinky airfields to fly it from.
I guess you can call me the "Nouveau-Hillbilly." Life is good.
-Rich
