Type-two fun

Ciudad Perdida, 2016

There’s no hard science behind it, but outdoor athletes and adventurers have been discussing the “fun scale” for years. Type-one fun is enjoyable from start to finish. Type-two fun is only fun in retrospect. And type-three fun consists of activities that seem fun in concept but then devolve into fear and danger—if you make it home alive, your memories of the experience are nowhere near positive.

I’d argue that type-two fun, by adding meaning to our lives, might contribute the most to overall happiness. “Why Type-Two Fun Feels So Good,” Amanda Loudin, Outside Magazine, Aug 29, 2021

Questions I often ask myself when on a challenging backpacking trip is “Why in the hell am I doing this instead of sitting on the deck of a cruise ship with a margarita in my hand? Isn’t this supposed to be a vacation?” Dragging myself up a “two-hour-hill,” feeling the backpack getting heavier and my back aching more, wondering if the hot spots on my feet will turn into blisters or if I will lose a toenail, wiping the sweat streaming down my face, and scratching the latest bug bites on my ankle, all counterbalance the enjoyment of the scenery, fresh air, and serenity of the hike. Yet the moment I get home, I tend to relate only the joys of the experience. And immediately start thinking about my next “challenge.”

Loudin’s article in Outdoor Magazine cited above helped me understand this seemingly irrational behavior - suffering, and then signing up for more. While the ultramarathoners she uses as examples who exhibit this kind of behavior are far above me in effort and skill, it is comforting to know that I am not the only person who has “type-two fun.” I’m not the only nut job on the planet.

I’ve been pretty lucky about rarely if ever experiencing type-three fun and having more than my share of type-one fun, but I usually plan activities knowing they will be type-two. A couple of years ago, I posted “Rating My Hikes” to the Blue Skunk. As I review the seven hikes I described, I would classify six of them as type-two and just one of them as type-one. (My daily walks and exercise are universally type-one. Am I pushing hard enough?)

While hiking came to my mind when reading this article, I am sure other activities could be described as type-two for others. Readers, anything you do that is only pleasurable in reflection?

A bad couple of weeks - but viewed from a distance

The last few weeks have been grim - news-wise. The horrific evacuation from Afghanistan and associated deaths from the suicide bomber, hurricane and tornado in Louisiana and the East Coast, wild fires and drought throughout the West and in northern Minnesota, homicides endemic, a surge in COVID deaths and overflowing hospitals, contencious school board meetings around mask mandates and rocky back-to-school starts, lots of jobs going unfilled - you name it, the headlines made you wonder why you got out of bed that morning.

But I am viewing these happenings from a quiet, leafy distance. I know of them only through my TV and computer screens, radio broadcasts, and newspapers. While I care, I am also removed. I can sit here feeling quite safe in my little suburban townhouse. I have some money in the bank; I am retired; I am in good health; I have no outstanding warrants for my arrest; and my friends and family are largely in the same boat. The loudly proclaimed existential threats on the front pages will, into the foreseeable future, remain hypothetical for me.

I expressed this observation to a friend a while ago who replied, “Yes, you are privileged.” He’s a pretty “woke” guy and I am sure he meant it in context of white privilege and all that it confers. He’s right, of course. I am white. I am male. I am tall. I am healthy. I have minimal mental disorders or inadequacies. I faced no great societal obstacles on my road from childhood to retirement.

Yet…

The racial equity movement does itself no favors by using the term “privilege.” To me, and I am sure many others to whom the term is applied, there is the implication that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth and hard work, good choices, delayed gratification, compassion, and even dumb luck had nothing to do with my current happy status. I owe everything I have to being born white.

While my life’s path was not blocked by racial prejudice, it was not necessarily one that was straight or smooth. There were many, many forks in the road - to commit crimes or be law abiding; to complete my education or drop out; to conform to the rules of my places of employment or quit; to spend my leisure time writing and speaking professionally or playing golf. Whether others attribute my current enviable life situation to white privilege or hard work or will of the gods, makes not a whole lot of difference to me at this point in my life. 

But I do believe how others evaluate the successes and failures of my children and grandchildren may very well be impactful. I want all young people to take responsibility for the choices they make and be proud of their successes and learn from their mistakes. That their fate is not determined by their race. I do hope they acknowledge that some of their positive opportunities and experiences come from advantages that come from being white. In the end, I want them, like me, to own their lives.

Enjoy your newspaper this morning.

Buying a car in 2021

Test driving his future car.

Grandson #2 turns 16 in September. That means I need to buy a new car.

Four years ago when Grandson #1 turned 16, I gave him my five-year-old Toyota Yaris and I bought a 2016 Honda Fit. As it turns out, buying a new car in 2021 is a very different experience.

The gift of a fairly recent, reliable car is one of my ways of helping these boys through college. A major worry I had as a college undergraduate at the University of Northern Colorado was having reliable transportation. The state of Colorado in the 1970s required motor vehicles to have a safety inspection every six months. And somehow my $500 cars always wound up needing one damn thing or another. Dopey, the 1961 Volkswagen Beetle, had a malfunctioning horn. A 1959 Rambler I owned seemed to always overheat. And it never seemed I had enough tire tread at any inspection.

I bought a green 1964 Volkswagen Squareback with a rebuilt engine with my last $600. (I was supporting myself and my family with minimum wage jobs at the time.) It ran well for two days and then the engine froze. I took it to my mechanic who said that yes, the engine was rebuilt - rebuilt wrong. It was going to cost me another $600 to have the engine rebuilt correctly. My only recourse was to call my dad and ask for a loan. I had always been too proud and stubborn to ask anyone in my family for money. He lent the funds to me and told me I could repay him after I graduated. But when I tried to repay him during my first year of teaching, he said to call the money a graduation present. My college education cost my parents $600. The car lasted my final years of college and even through my first year of teaching.

Kids in college have enough to worry about. I don't want my grandkids to worry about having a car that runs. 

From reading the newspaper, I realized this was not an auspicious time to buy a new (or used) car. Disrupted supply chains, computer chip shortages, and increased demand have created a shortage of new cars. I didn’t realize just how great a shortage until I started shopping.

My family rightfully thinks I am cheap when it comes to selecting cars. And they are right. I like buying new, but I also have a tough time spending much money on a vehicle. But as I told my daughter, I thought I would go a little crazy this time and instead of buying the cheapest new car available, I just might buy the second to the cheapest new car on the market. Maybe I am cheap.

I looked at Toyota RAVs - too big and too expensive. I looked at Honda HRVs - too little leg room and noisy ride. I looked at the Kia Soul - nerdy. Finally, just for the heck of it, I looked at a Subaru Crosstrek. It seemed to check all the boxes. Plenty of legroom. 30+ mpg. AWD. 1500lb towing capacity. Well rated by Consumer Reports. And the Sport model was, well, sporty looking. Of course none of the dealers had any cars actually in stock that one could purchase, but they usually had one to test drive, and for $500 you could reserve one that was supposedly in transit. 

Or, you could order one made to your specs - your options, colors, etc. Downside, it takes literally months for it to be manufactured and shipped. And of course any attempt at bargaining on the price is met with a contemptuous snicker from the salesperson.

Since I am not aware of any more grandchildren that will need a car for college for quite a number of years, I decided to sort of deck out my new Crosstrek Sport, adding nicer sound system, fancy floor mats, heated this-and-that, a rear view mirror with a built in compass. I got it in a purty blue color.

Supposed to get here sometime late October. Who knows, it might just be the last car I ever buy. Unless self-driving cars become practical and my family tries to take away my keys.