Month: February 2024

Salt Life

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

The taste of sea salt on my lips. The squawk of seagulls as they swoop over the beach. Waves crashing on the shore, washing up taupe and white seashells. These are the sights and sounds of the salt life. Life rights itself strolling along the salty shoreline searching for the perfect shell. Time stands still. It heals the broken parts of me and centers my soul.

Humans that are attracted to water are referred to as “blue mind” people. This term was first coined by Dr. Wallace Nichols, a marine biologist and writer. People with a blue mind feel a sense of peace around the water. Roaring waves lapping up on the beach, the trickle of a creak flowing over pebbles, or the gentle ripples on a quiet lake; it doesn’t matter as long as it is near water. Being by the water gives us the opportunity to escape our busy, hyper-connected lives and revel in solitude. It provides our brains with a sense of rest from over simulation. People that are drawn to water seek knowledge and understanding. When we are near this blue space, we close down the extraneous stimuli and give way to a meditative state of mind.

I am in my happy place when I am outdoors. I love the mountains, trees, and desert, but nothing heals my soul quite like being by the water. I suspect there are a lot of us “blue minded” people out there.

” When you see water, when you hear water, it triggers a response in your brain that you’re in the right place.”

Dr. Wallace Nichols

Salt water sea life

We live in the chilly Pacific Northwest. We get deer, turkey, and even the occasional moose roaming through our yard on a regular basis. That is our normal. The salt water provides a whole different type of animal life here in Florida. One of my goals on this trip was to see a manatee, so we made a point to visit a couple manatee observation areas.

The first was the Manatee Observation & Education Center in Fort Pierce, Florida. There were only about four manatees hanging out there, but we got to look over the edge and see them up close. Such prehistoric looking creatures, these gentle giants of the ocean. According to the Florida Fish & Wildlife Commission, one of the biggest dangers to manatees are watercrafts. One in every four adult manatees have evidence of 10 or more watercraft strikes. Sadly, 20-25% of manatees are killed by boats every year.

The other place to view manatees is at Tampa Electric’s Manatee Viewing Center at Apollo Beach. The water coming off of the electric company warms the salt water near it and the manatees come there to hang out in the warmer water in the winter. There were probably fifty of them just floating along, relaxing in the warm water. Smart animals.

Gopher tortoise
Manatee

I would really like to see the large tortoises that crawl up on the beach to lay their eggs at night. Unfortunately, it is the wrong time of year for that, so I had to settle for a smaller version. Honeymoon Island State Park is home to over 200 gopher tortoises, so we headed up there to walk the park. We were fortunate to see one lumbering along and then slide into his burrow. Gopher tortoises dig burrows that are 10-30 feet deep and have a large turn around spot at the end of them. They kindly share their burrows (both current and abandoned) with up to 250 other animal species. The snakes that share burrows with some of the tortoises actually help to protect them.

The colorful birds and wildlife are so different from what we see in the Pacific Northwest.

Salt water play

As I mentioned in my previous post, Living Like the Locals, we are staying at a marina while we are visiting Florida for a month. The marina has several kayaks available for residents to use and they invited us to use them during our stay… for free. I jumped at the opportunity. Kayaking through the estuaries was on my list of things I wanted to do while we were here. When you quietly paddle through the salt water, you get to see the mangroves and water life up close and personal.

Kayaking in the estuaries by the marina I came along this interesting character.

One of my favorite ocean water activities is, what I have dubbed, “wave bobbing.” I jump into the waves and let the buoyant saltwater bob me around. It probably looks pretty funny for a lady in her 60’s out there bobbing in the waves like a ten-year-old, but fortunately, not worrying so much about what others think is a side benefit of aging. Joy overrides concern for other people’s opinions of us. I just hope they don’t mistake me for a manatee!

Some people can walk, or even jog along the beach unencumbered. And then there are those of us that are shell seekers. We can’t stop ourselves. I tell myself that I have enough shells, my pockets are full and yet… I can’t stop from looking down and gathering just a few more. Caspersen Beach in Venice, Florida is an exceptionally good beach for finding seashells and sharks’ teeth. As a matter of fact, this beach is considered the shark tooth capital of the world. Yep, hunting for shark’s teeth is a hobby here. The converging currents at this particular beach bring in sediment that have a lot of fossilized shark teeth in them. You just have to dig through the sand and shells to find them. People purchase fancy metal sand sifting tools to hunt for shark’s teeth. You wade into the water, scoop up a bucket of sand and let it wash through the sieve. Then you are left with larger shells and hopefully, a shark’s tooth. These fossilized teeth are typically black and have three points.

Mr. U was captivated by it. However, he was too cheap did not want to purchase an expensive tool to use for only a couple of days. Instead, he bought a white plastic colander at the dollar store. The thing actually worked. We found over 45 small shark’s teeth with it. I am sure that we were quite a sight, me bobbing in the waves and Mr. U hunting for shark’s teeth with his dollar store reading glasses and colander. Oh well, what do we care – we are retired and on vacation.

Mr. U searching for shark’s teeth.
Some of our haul from the Florida beaches.

After a full day at the beach gathering shells and shark’s teeth, we “rewarded” ourselves with a cold drink and some grouper bites at Sharkey’s beach restaurant by the pier. Retirement life is good.

Travel: Living Like the Locals

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

Whenever we travel, it seems like we are always trying to see and do as much as possible in the limited time we have.  We typically spend a couple nights in one place and then pack up our bags and move on to the next destination – anxious to see and experience everything we can.  It has been wonderful, and it has allowed me to see almost all 50 states, but it doesn’t give us time to really sink into the lifestyle.  It was time to change that. This year we decided to spend enough time in one area to get a feel for how the locals live. 

We have always come up with a pile of excuses for why we can’t travel to one place and stay there for an extended period.  Excuses like, we still have so many other places we want to see, fear that we might get bored staying in one place too long, it would be too expensive, and most significantly, I would miss being away from family and friends too much.  But we aren’t getting any younger, so it was time to set those excuses aside.  It was time to jump off the indecision boat and just do it.  We agreed that it needed to be somewhere warm and sunny and in the continental U.S.  So, we traded in our winter snow boots and parkas for sandals and shorts and we booked a rather unique stay at a marina just outside of Sarasota for a full month.  Not as risky as moving to Costa Rico to live the expat life, but still a venture for two pale northerners to do in the middle of the winter.

On a very cold, very early morning the first of February, we boarded a plane to head southeast, about as far across the U.S. as you can go.  After twelve hours, two delays, one missed connection and an extra flight, we stepped off the plane in Tampa Bay.  Miraculously, our luggage found us.    After another hour in an Uber, we arrived at the gate to the marina that we were going to call home for the next month. 

When we were planning this trip, we decided that we wanted to stay somewhere that we could live like the locals.  This ruled out an all-inclusive resort, condo or even a house.  We wanted to be in the thick of the salt life, and not in one of those marinas with million-dollar boats, but a marina where the old salts live on weathered sailboats. We wanted to mix with people that are living a raw life, closer to the bone. We wanted to hear their stories.

This old marina is on an estuary off of Sarasota Bay. Don’t you love the weathered marina office door?

The people that live at the marina are mostly older men, some couples and a few younger guys escaping social norms and pressures.   All of them are kind and friendly.  On our third day here, we decided to sip our morning coffee in the sunshine at a table on the marina dock.  Before long one, then two, then three locals pulled up chairs to chat for a while.   These old salts had a world of living etched into their leather smiles and a lot of stories to tell, peppered with a little gossip about the marina residents. They lead a slower life.

“…I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos…”

Excerpt from the Mexican Fisherman and Investment Banker Story

The marina owner, Willy, is an eccentric old salt with a big heart. His wife passed away a couple years ago, but he is surrounded by people that love him. He is the center that this marina life revolves around. He works hard and plays hard. His lovely daughter runs the office at the marina. Willy hosts parties at his house for the marina residents on all of the major holidays, as well as the super bowl. He and his daughter kindly invited us to join them this year. Why not? It was a great opportunity to watch the game while visiting with some of the locals and enjoy some delicious food!

The spread at the super bowl party.

Willy and some of his cronies built a very large boat themselves which is moored at the marina, and they proudly gave us a tour. To help pay for the ongoing maintenance of the boat, they take memory balls out to the ocean. These are also known as eternal reefs. After a loved one is cremated, their remains are put in an urn and placed in a concrete memory ball. Then the family goes out on a boat for a ceremony and the dropping of the memory ball into the ocean for a final resting place. These balls are made of environmentally safe concrete and help to preserve the marine environment as fish and sea creatures make their homes in them. I had no idea.

Willy’s boat.
This is their inventory of memory balls.
Mr. U trying out the captain’s chair.

Part of our living like the locals experiment was to travel the area without a rental car.  We planned to use our own two feet, the bus system, and the Sarasota trolley.  Our first few bus trips went smoothly.  The next trip we missed the last bus back and had to get an Uber.   The next trip we ventured north on the bus to Bradenton and then transferred to another bus to get to Anna Maria Island and then the trolley.   I felt like a pinball in one of those machines where you bounce back, hit a wall, bounce in another direction and eventually you end up at your destination.  We wasted a lot of time waiting for transportation to arrive. 

The bus north was a sad commentary on humanity.  At each stop we would share seats with the downtrodden, the disadvantaged, those that were born into an unfair lot in life and those that made some really poor choices.   Each person was trying to survive in a world that had often been harsh to them.  It made me realize what an insulated life I lead.  I am clearly made of weaker stuff. We opted to get a rental car for the next few weeks. 

The locals that live at the marina are a community that take care of each other. They are a family that has bumped into each other by a lifestyle choice. One of the older marina residents has end stage cancer. He still lives on his boat but is getting worse by the day. Everyone checks in on him frequently and they bring him groceries when they are making a trip to the store. It made me acutely aware that, while we may choose different lifestyles, we all share a common humanity.  A need to connect and look out for one another.  Isn’t that what life is all about, no matter where you live?

The Tipping Point

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

To tip or not to tip?  How much do I tip?  Has the tip already been built into my tab?  If so, is that even a tip then?  Am I expected to leave a tip for the person that cleans my hotel room?  Do I tip my hairdresser even though she is the owner of the salon?  How long do you stand and listen to a street busker before you leave a tip in his instrument case?  When did tipping for good service become so confusing?   I don’t know about you, but I am unclear on the tipping rules.  And the old-fashioned side of me wonders why there should even be rules around tipping.  Isn’t a tip supposed to be a thank you for excellent customer service that goes above and beyond and not an expectation?  Now the owner expects customers to tip their employees to help cover the cost of their wages. 

Like most things, tipping has evolved over the years.  Now it is expected to help subsidize many service workers’ wages.  The standard federal minimum wage is $7.25 per hour.  However, employers of tipped workers can pay a minimum wage of $2.13 per hour to employees provided their tips make up the difference.   The main service sector that this affects are food service workers.  It is up to the state if they utilize this federal tip credit pay structure, but only a few states opt out of it and pay their tipped employees at least the standard $7.25 per hour, regardless of how much they make in tips.  So, the burden of ensuring that servers make a living wage rests on those of us paying their tips.   

We have been on a trip this week (more about that in a later post) and so we have been eating out a lot and using Uber and Lyft.  It has prompted me to consider the whole tipping situation.  The worst part of any bill is not the cost of the bill itself because I know what that is ahead of time based on what I ordered.  The worst part is the last-minute decision on how much to tip.  I want to be fair, but not taken advantage of.  And the new electronic payment systems with preprogramed tips of 18%, 20% or even 30% make me feel that way.  You can put in a custom tip, but of course this has to be done while the server waits over your shoulder.  And for someone such as myself that does not do air math, it takes me longer to determine a custom tip.  God forbid, I might even need to use my phone calculator while the server continues to wait for me. Tipping etiquette recommends that you base your tip on the bill prior to the taxes being added.

It seems that the amount you tip often depends on the era you were raised in.  My dad, who was alive during the great depression, is not a big tipper.  Not because he is being stingy, but because he was raised in an era when tipping 5% was considered a lot.  I remember my mom slipping a few extra dollars under the tab right before they left because she did not think he gave a big enough tip.  I notice that young people, who typically have less discretionary income than I do, tend to tip more.  The tip also depends on where you live. In Europe, tips are appreciated, but not expected.   Some places even consider it rude to tip.  Apparently, the U.S. went in the opposite direction.

I have been on the receiving end of tips.  My very first real job was working at a fast-food joint.  I waited on tables and worked in the front pouring sodas and making shakes with real ice cream, but my title was “car hop.”  You knew you had made it to the upper echelon of car hops when you could swirl a large soft serve ice cream cone so that it came to a perfect peak.   Customers could come inside to eat, but more often, people would pull up under the awning and order from their cars. There was a retractable table with a speaker attached to it where they could make their order. The car hops wore belts with change machines that would jangle when you walked (no roller skates though.)  We would deliver the customer’s food to their car and make change for them right there.   The occasional tip, which was typically the leftover change from the order, was a pleasant, and appreciated surprise.   

Below is a photo of the menu at Topper Too around the time I worked there. Back when a jumbo burger was .89 cents and a tip of left over change was an exception and not the rule. The Double Wammy was everyone’s favorite burger, but it was a splurge at $1.49. We also made a delicious secret fry sauce there (if you know, you know). Employees were strictly warned not to share the recipe with anyone. Topper Too has long since closed down so I can probably tell you that the secret ingredient is a little sugar.

The menu at Topper Too.
This is a picture of Topper Too from the outside. It was taken several years before I started working there but the covered parking where you pulled up to the retracting tables with menus and speakers on them had not changed.

Several of my sons delivered pizza when they were in high school.  I remember them being so excited to come home and tell me how much they made in tips.   So, I understand the importance of tipping.  But I want it to be for great customer service and not an expectation.

Tipping would be less complicated if it was just the food service industry.  But now it feels like we are expected to tip for every service we utilize.   So, for right or wrong, I have developed a few generalized rules around tipping so that I don’t have to make so many last-minute decisions.

  • I give a general standard tip for service of 15% on the total bill (not the pre-taxed amount).  More if it is exceptional or I know the server and less if it is really poor service.
  • I have decided that, if I need to go to the counter to order and pick up my own food or drink, I will not generally tip.  The exception would be if they took the time to give you samples to taste, or they were really nice and helpful. 
  • If I am just ordering drinks but sit at the table and the server takes our order and brings them to us, I tip $1.00/drink. 
  • If a street busker is good enough that they cause me to stop and listen, then I will leave a few dollars in his/her case. 
  • I do not tip the maid that cleans our hotel room.  Heck, does that even exist anymore?

I still haven’t figured out a standard tip for haircuts, pedicures or valets, so I am constantly making last minute decisions.   Agh!   Let me know if you have any tipping advice.   Or should I ask, do you have any tips on tipping? (Bad dad joke, I know.)

Mini jukeboxes, just like the one above, were at each of the indoor booths at Topper Too.

Photo credits:  Old school Coeur d’Alene Facebook page.

Why the World Needs More Wisdom

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

Wisdom.  Such a calm, steady word. In this fractured world full of strife and confusion, wisdom brings a sense of calm and peace.  Wisdom speaks with a sure voice that tells us it will all work out.  You will survive this.  You are stronger than you think.  It will be O.K. 

No one is born with wisdom and you certainly don’t gain it overnight.  Wisdom builds on itself over time.  You often need to go through the fire, learn from it and come out on the other side… wiser.   So, why is wisdom often linked with age?   I know many wise, younger people, but there is nothing like time and experience to file off our rough edges, leaving us with the smooth patina of wisdom. With age comes a confidence and wisdom that can only be achieved through trial and error.

When I worked at the college, several of my colleagues and I would look at these young, hopeful students graduating to become registered nurses and we would cringe. These were intelligent, committed young women and men who were excited to start their careers. We were proud to have been a small part of their journey to achieving their dreams. Most of them would be heading out into the battlefield of healthcare, having to make life threatening decisions in a split second. They would be expected to go to work every day giving their best, but prepared for the worst that can happen.

As instructors, we shared all our knowledge and stories that we could to help prepare them, and yet, you can never fully prepare someone for the first time they lose a patient and question whether they could have done something, anything, to prevent it from happening. As my colleague would remind us, you cannot teach the “wisdom of practice.” It can only come through, well… practice. The “wisdom of practice” comes with experience. And while some people gain this wisdom quicker than others, you can’t rush it. It comes from reflecting on experiences and learning how you could improve and how you would react differently next time. So it is with life.

“A wise old owl sat on an oak. The more he saw, the less he spoke. The less he spoke the more he heard. Why aren’t we like that wise old bird?”

Edward Richards

Once we have lived in this world long enough, we have gained a perspective and a new appreciation for life.  Maybe it is the stark awareness that we have more years behind us than ahead of us that brings this new appreciation.   It gives us perspective.  And with that perspective comes a deep joy for life.  At the very point that our bodies are aging, our soul is filling.  And quietly, unexpectedly, with this soul filled life, wisdom shows up.    

I pray for wisdom…a lot.  Preferably without going through the fire to get it.  We need more wise people in the world.  While ageism is prevalent in our society, there is an underlying need for timeless wisdom.  Our younger generation is relying on us to be the ones that don’t panic.  The ones that step back and look at the situation with perspective.  The ones that say, it will all work out.  It will be O.K. 

A lack of wisdom

A few weeks ago, we had over several days when the temperature hovered around zero degrees. It was cold enough for our little lake to freeze over. As kids, we were thrilled when this happened. We would pull on our ice-skates and glide over the frozen water without a care in the world. If the conditions were right, you could skate over the entire lake.

A fear of falling on the hard ice and breaking a hip has prevented me from lacing up my skates anymore (probably wise). But I do enjoy seeing the ice fishermen out there. They take their sleds loaded with a fish huts, chairs, fishing poles and bait and they find a spot to drill a hole into the ice. I have no idea how they decide where to drill the hole. How would you know where the fish are under the ice? Anyway, it is cozy to see their huts scattered over the ice-covered lake. The picture below is a little blurry because I took it from shore, but it shows fisherman with a fish hut on a frozen solid lake.

The red fish hut is on the left. It is really just a pop-up tent that is taken out on the ice.

Since then, the weather has warmed up a lot and the ice is starting to melt, particularly around the shore. When I went for my walk alongside the lake a couple days ago, I saw a fish hut and three guys with poles hanging over holes in the ice. The very thin ice. Not wise. There is a reason we say, when a person is taking a risk, that they are skating on thin ice. The picture below was taken on my recent walk by the water, just a few weeks later than the above picture of the same lake. That is fresh water along the shoreline, and it goes three or four feet out until the ice starts. It is a little hard to see since the clouds are reflecting off of the water around the edge of the lake.

The rocky shoreline as the ice starts to melt away.

Aside from the ice fishermen, there are a few other things come to mind when I think of a lack of wisdom in older people. Things like wearing a string bikini or speedo at the beach. Or drinking too much and being “that guy” at a gathering. And let’s not even talk about the lack of wisdom in politics. So, my fellow retirees, please stay off the ice when it is melting and instead let’s be the pillars of wisdom that our young people need to see in this world.