What we keep. What we discard.

It’s been a while, but I’ll start knocking out blogs on a more regular basis in the months ahead. There are a lot of things percolating in my head that need an outlet, and one just came to light this morning as I read two articles in The New York Times about collecting – or discarding – stuff. 

I’ve written about this topic before. In fact, one of my first blogs (July of 2010!) was about my “saver” father and my “discarder” mom, and how these two diametrically opposed characteristics shaped me into the person I am today. Since the pandemic started nearly two years ago, there have been many articles written about decluttering and how it can improve people’s lives. After all, clutter has been shown to increase anxiety, put strain on familial relationships, affect sleeping habits, ruin household incomes, and the like. But discarding possessions also carries an emotional burden. My father and my wife’s mother are both contending with discarding in fairly short order that which they spent a lifetime accumulating, and it can be an overwhelming process: it’s hard to know where to begin, hard to know how to part with something that you feel defines you or is a part of the grand narrative of your life’s story, and on a more practical level, it’s not often apparent what to actually do with the stuff one’s chosen to discard. Who’ll take the collection of fishing lures? The seashells? The artwork? The National Geographic magazines? Should you just throw them out? You can’t, can you? After all the care you’ve given these objects for so many years?

Sadly, a dumpster or recycling bin is where a lot of our stuff will go – whether it’s before we die or after – and I imagine that this realization gives us visceral feeling of our own mortality, recognition that all that we’ve accumulated will be gone when we are gone, that most of what we leave behind is people’s memories of our existence, and that in a generation or two, even that will be gone. We will have never existed.

Weighty stuff!

But dang, I love that collectors exist. I need then to exist, even if it means that they lead stressful lives because of it. I love that the pandemic inspired Iowan barber Brian Hogan to build a video rental store in his basement! I love that there are record stores and vintage clothing stores, and that my friend has a collection of tickets stubs and signed programs and photos of the concerts he’s attended over the decades. I love that another friend of mine recently purchased an antique Coke vending machine to accompany his jukebox of 45 rpm records. I love that I have a program, pennant and tickets stubs from the 1957 World Series hanging on my wall. I love that my paternal grandfather saved so much stuff that I could practically write a novel about his live in the 1920s. I had to discard much of what he saved, but I kept enough. Enough to have an idea of what his life was like, what he was like.

In 2012, I quoted Rabbi W. Gunther Plaut about how views on possessions change over time, and what was once cherished garners nothing more but indifference later in life.  This is likely the natural order of things. 

I’m not quite there yet. The pandemic forced me to go through some items, and while I was happy to discard clothing, storage bins, framed artwork and old furniture, the stuff I’m keeping – the record albums, the photographs, books, letters, memories of my children – this stuff I’m holding onto with gusto. This stuff is a manifestation of who I am. My kids may hate me for it. Their kids may one day hate me for it.  But for now these possessions still define me. There may be a day when that changes, when I can freely discard what I own without – as Rabbi Plaut wrote – an ounce of regret. But if my father is any indication, that ain’t gonna happen!

And I may one day take a cue from Brian Hogan and open a record rental store in my basement.

Using a Password Manager

Keeping track of logins had become a source of stress and frustration for me years ago, but since I’m a glutton for punishment, I did nothing to change the situation: I kept a six-page list of usernames and passwords that I’d printed from an Excel spreadsheet (deleting the file, of course) and on which I had scribbled in a multitude of additional logins over the past several years. Goodness, I had a lot of passwords to keep track of.

But no more! I finally bit the bullet and subscribed to a password manager – Bitwarden in my case – and after a day of figuring things out and entering all of my information, I’m happy to say that I am positively giddy about my decision.

I’m no expert, so I encourage you to read more on-line, but in a nutshell a password manager keeps track of all of your logins, allowing you to change passwords quickly and safely (and to ones that are more challenging to hack into).  All you have to remember is one master password to log into your manager.  That’s it. If all goes according to plan, I will remember just one password for the rest of my life. This will no doubt come in mighty handy as I age, as there have already been times at Target when I froze because I couldn’t immediately recall my 4-digit PIN.

If the thought of having one service storing all of your data scares you, you are a wise person!  Read on.

It was tricky to know which password manager to use; I spent hours going down the rabbit hole of professional reviews, user reviews, ratings, features and costs, and it quickly became overwhelming. Ultimately, I decided to go with the one CNET described as the best free password manager – Bitwarden.  I have no problem paying for a service, and I may eventually upgrade to one of Bitwarden’s premium subscriptions, but I figured I had nothing to lose by just trying out the software and seeing what it’s all about.

I set up my account and immediately didn’t know what I was looking at. YouTube to the rescue! I don’t know the guy’s name who posted the following videos for the Password Bits channel, but his instructions were impeccable:

Bitwarden Beginners Guide https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30QqIeb1Pu4
Using Bitwarden on Android https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nyqxR20I1NY

I followed these instructions almost to a “T”, deleting my saved passwords on Google, as well as my stored credit card information, and proceeding from there. I first got everything working seamlessly on my desktop and then set things up on my mobile device. Things don’t run quite as smoothly on my Android – I often have to do an extra click or two, and occasionally have to copy and paste a password – but it still works quit well, and I can open Bitwarden with my fingerprint. I suspect I’ll eventually get a finger scanner for my desktop so that I don’t have to use my master password on that either. (But keep in mind that if you NEVER have to enter your master password, you will likely forget your master password. This could come back to haunt you.)

Speaking of master passwords, if you lose yours you are screwed. Seriously. Your password manager will not be able to get it for you. Because of this, I have a copy of mine saved in my safe deposit box just in case. You could also ask a friend or loved one to keep a copy for you someplace safe. As for the rest of my passwords, for now I still have the six-page sheet in my house, but as I start to change passwords to safer word/number/character combinations, that sheet will become obsolete and shredded.

As for the legitimate safety concern of storing all of your passwords in one place, I encourage you to read this article and several others to help guide you to a decision that’s right  for you. 

ALSO, keep in mind something called the Double Blind Password Strategy.  This is a fantastic idea, and one that will ensure that your most sensitive login information – perhaps for banking, investments, email and social media – are never breached, even in the unlikely event that someone manages to access your password manager account. I will be utilizing this strategy once I get everything set up and synched with my wife’s account.

With Bitwarden, you can share logins with your partner for free, or with your family for a very reasonable fee.  So once I get my spouse set up, we will have shared access to some of our common logins, like travel and shopping websites.

If you’ve been on the fence about using a password manager, I strongly encourage you to hop off and give one a try.  It sure beats the alternative stress-inducing password management system: one’s brain.

My New Band - Anchors Away

When I subscribed a Spotify a few years ago I started making a massive 70s playlist, not of songs that I already knew like the back of my hand, but all of those tunes that pop into my head at odd times, little remnants of my youth when I listened to WOKY Milwaukee in the backyard of Menomonee Falls, Wisconsin. Songs like “Jackie Blue” by The Ozark Mountain Daredevils, “Reminiscing” by The Little River Band, “Just Remember I Love You” by Firefall, and “Lotta Love” by Nicolette Larson. Remember those song? I do, and scores of others, some that I hadn’t heard in decades. I just picked up an album by The Tarney/Spencer Band – a group that is NOT on Spotify currently – because as I was driving down the highway a year ago or so, the song “No Time to Lose” clawed to the surface from the recesses of my mind. I don’t know why it got there, but it’s a great tune, and I love so many of these old songs that don’t get the radio rotation that they used to.

This type of music has been retroactively labeled yacht rock, a very nebulously applied term and one that many musicians resent. But the label seems to have stuck, and the genre has gained a bit of a resurgence. So imagine my excitement when I got the call to join a Chicago-based yacht rock band, Anchors Away? The music is challenging, fun, and more subtle in nature than much of the music I’ve been playing live for the last decade or so. I’ve been busting my butt trying to get 30 songs prepared for my first gig with the band, taking place on October 29th in Downers Grove, Illinois. What I really like about it is the fact that we’re not playing the same old stuff that you can hear on every radio station in the country. No more Rolling Stones, Beatles, and the like. This music may not be new, but it also hasn’t been beaten to death.

Anchors Away has some killer musicians “on board” (see what I did there?) and I can’t wait to get sailing with the crew. It’ll no doubt take me a few gigs to feel comfortable, but I hope you’ll make it out to one of our shows docking at a bar near you. Visit us on Facebook or on our website.

Brewers 2021 Wrap-up

They say baseball is all about pitching, but the 2021 Milwaukee Brewers proved that offense is also a required component for a legitimate World Series contender, as they lost to the Atlanta Braves this week in four games while scoring a sum total of six runs, including two shutouts.

These four games were sadly reminiscent of the four games I attended in 2021, when the Crew scored a grand total of four runs, losing all four games. Three of these games took place after the acquisition of shortstop Willy Adames, whose presence gave the team a needed boost at the end of May.  I like a good pitchers duel now and then as much as the next guy, but the team I watched during those four games was not a fun team to watch.  The offense was anemic, the baserunning and defense sloppy, and the overall excitement generated was subpar.  And while the Brewers surged during the second half of season, their offensive numbers over the entire season were, well, terrible. 

Milwaukee ranked 26th in batting average, 24th in slugging percentage, and 20th in OPS.  Defense didn’t help either.  The Brewers ranked 9th in errors allowed, 28th in double plays, and 21st in fielding percentage.

It was this team that somehow – miraculously – managed to score enough runs throughout the season to lock down the NL Central in easy fashion.  Their pitching staff was so good – ranking 3rd in runs allowed per game – and the division in which they played so mediocre, that the Brewers ran away with their first division title in three years.  Even offensively, the Brewers managed to score the league-average number of runs per game, but I don’t know of any Brewers fans who felt confident entering the playoffs.  Four game later, our concerns have been unsatisfyingly validated.  The Brewers’ pitching staff once again had to be nearly perfect for the team to even have a chance of winning, and in the playoffs against a good-hitting Braves team, this was an awfully tall order. 

The pitching wasn’t perfect, but it was solid.  What was embarrassingly bad was the offense.  During the playoff series against a good-pitching Braves team, the Brewers swung and missed at more pitches outside the strike zone than any playoff team has a right to.  This is best encapsulated by Avisail Garcia’s third at-bat in game four.  After swinging and missing at two sliders down and away, Garcia swung at the next pitch – also a slider – in the exact same location.  What made Garcia think that pitcher Huascar Ynoa – after having adequately demonstrated that he needn’t pitch in the zone to get a strike – was actually going to throw in the zone for his third pitch is mind-boggling.

This one at-bat sort of sums up a lot of the Brewers at-bats this season, and it highlights the concerns for next years’ Brewers team (and begs the question: will batting coach Andy Haines be returning next season?).  On paper, the Brewers’ pitching and infield seem to be in relatively good shape for 2022, with nearly every player returning.  These were the strengths of the team in 2021 (tough first base is still a concern).  But the Brewers’ outfield is currently bloated with highly-paid players who are performing absolutely terribly.  Garcia was the lone bright spot (though not always), but he likely won’t be returning to the Brewers next season.  Instead, the Brewers have returning Jackie Bradley, Jr., who just completed one of the worst offensive seasons in Major League history), an injury-prone and past-his-prime Lorenzo Cain, and Christian Yelich, who’s not even a shadow of his former self, garnering a shocking 1.3 WAR in 2021. 

How will the Brewers fortify the outfield with some offensive numbers?  There’s only one way that I can think of given that the team salary is already stretched, and that’s to make a deal to trade some of their stellar pitchers on the staff.  With the luxury of having three aces in Corbin Burnes, Brandon Woodruff and Freddy Peralta, very capable 4th and 5th starters in Adrian Houser and Eric Lauer, and excellent relievers in Devin Williams (albeit a very, very stupid Devin Williams, who used his pitching hand to punch a wall at the end of the regular season) and Josh Hader, I would not be surprised some of these guys were traded to bolster the offense for 2022.  We shall see what David Stearns and company decide to do during what will certainly be a volatile off-season, as players and owners hash out a new collective bargaining agreement.

Time Loop Fantasy

Two months after delving into the fantasy of time travel, I’d like to address another fun fantasy scenario: that of living in a Groundhog Day-type time loop.  I think we can all agree that reliving a day in Punxsutawney circa 1993 would have been a challenge, though Bill Murray’s character gave a good go of it in the aforementioned movie.  But existing in a time loop prior to widely available internet and streaming services would certainly limit your options.  Even worse would be living in a time loop in, say, rural Nebraska in 1890. Or in 2020-2021 during the worst days of the pandemic!  Fuggedetaboutit!  But fast forward to the 2020 film Palm Springs, which deftly borrows the Groundhog Day synopsis, and it doesn’t seem nearly as awful to be stuck in time.  For one, Andy Samberg’s character has a time loop partner in Cristin Milioti, and Cristin’s access to the internet allows her to discover how to escape their predicament.  Still, the city of Palm Springs is not a booming metropolis with much to offer, and if you had to live in a time loop, you might choose to pull the levers of circumstance just a bit to make eternity not only bearable, but even a palatable sentence.

Unlike the time travel question I posed two months ago, there aren’t a multitude of rules to consider in a time loop fantasy; only that no matter what you do, you wake up at the same time on the same day in the same location as the day before, without end.  The only additional wrinkle is that for the purposes of this exercise, you’ll have the luxury of knowing in advance that you’ll be stuck in a time loop and therefore have the ability to prepare.  What do you choose to do?

For me, I would choose to live more or less in the present day, but before or after the worst of the pandemic.  Let’s have all the restaurants and stadiums open at full capacity.  Let’s put masks and social distancing behind us.  And let’s make air travel as easy as possible.

Speaking of air travel, this is an essential element to living happily in a time loop, so residing close to a large airport is number two on my list.  I currently live 20 minutes from O’Hare, so I’m in good shape, but it may be useful to live on the East Coast, which opens up all sorts of interesting locations to visit in the U.S., not to mention much of Europe.  Hell, you could hop on an early departure from JFK and reach Paris in time for dinner.  Chicago would of course be a better bet if you needed access to the western United States.  Or maybe you’d choose to live in Europe, where visiting a multitude of countries is within reach.

I would stick to the U.S., but regardless of location, I would then choose to relive a beautiful 70-degree Saturday in September.  The importance of the weather component is obvious, and the request for a Saturday is multifold.  First, I could visit 15 different MLB ballparks and scores of college football stadiums to take in a game.  I’m not a huge college football fan, but in the midst of an eternal time loop, I could become one. Furthermore, some museums, businesses and restaurants are closed on Sundays, as are banks, so Saturdays offer more flexibility.  Also, concerts, plays and musicals are more plentiful on Saturdays, and I could probably spend hundreds of days traveling to see a different act each night (this does strengthen the argument to reside in New York, though Chicago wouldn’t be a bad option).  Finally, traffic isn’t so bad on Saturdays, so I wouldn’t have to spend a good chunk of eternity stuck on a U.S. Highway.

Like Adam Sandberg’s character in Palm Springs, I would want someone to be stuck with me in my infinite time loop.  In my case, that’s my wife.  Sorry, honey!

Prior to the time loop, I would transfer all of our money to an easily-accessible bank account, and I would make sure that our credit card balance is at zero so that we could take advantage of our full credit.  We could then of course choose to spend as much money as we want on any given day, knowing that the money will be available to us the next morning.  Buying a last-minute first-class ticket to London would be of no concern.  We could eat at the most expensive restaurants in town (assuming we could finagle a reservation, but my guess is that dropping a few thousand-dollar bribe to the host would get the job done at most places), buy a sports car for the day, get front row seats to a concert, or walk downtown and give each homeless person a couple of grand that they could enjoy for the day.

During our time loop, we could watch practically every movie known to man, listen to every piece of recorded music, and read every book we’ve never had time to read.  Sure, we’d have to repurchase it every day to get to the end of the book, but who cares?  We’ve got nothing but time! 

We could also visit all three of our kids, though not for as long as we’d like.  It might behoove us prior to our time loop sentence to ask our kids to move close to us (this would likely take some convincing).  That way we could invite them to join us on whatever adventure we choose.

The above may not make as interesting a movie as Groundhog Day or Palm Springs, but it would be a much more pleasant sentence than enduring a cold shower each morning in frigid Punxsutawney in 1993 or a wedding in hot and dry Palm Springs in 2020, with or without Andie MacDowell or Cristin Milioti.  If you can give me reign over my time loop circumstances, I might just sign up!