Our House
Day 100: We moved into Myrtle on Saturday. It didn’t take too long to pack, I didn’t have all that much compared to my last move. My last big move was Beverly Glenn to 1057 on 2/1/98. For that move, I had all the things that I collected from birth to 2/1/98. A little over 33 years of stuff. Less all the things Wendy made me get rid of. Most of the things I got rid of were vests. In 1998, I was into vests for some reason. Wendy was not a vest fan. She also was not a fan of shirt emblems. Any shirt with an emblem got tossed. Any vest with an emblem got burned. She probably would have burned down 1057 in 1998 if I didn’t toss my emblem vest collection. I remember it being a pretty easy move. Some clothes (less vests), a toaster oven and a bread maker. We used the bread maker once. Who uses a bread maker more than once? It’s a pain in the ass to make bread. Challah Hell. Just go buy a loaf at the market. Way easier. Also, I don’t understand Cuisinarts. They seem so complicated with all the blades. I think we got one of those for our wedding. Come to think of it, the only wedding gifts I really liked had Benjamin Franklin’s picture on them. Chinaware? Who cares. Silver spoons? Gag me with one. I do like large cereal bowls. The more Captain Crunch per sitting, the better. Everything else, I could live without. Everything else we are living without. It’s moving day. Let’s go. Here’s my packing list.
“Father wears his Sunday best. Mother's tired, she needs a rest. The kids are playing up downstairs. Sister's sighing in her sleep (ah). Brother's got a date to keep, he can't hang around.”
Ampere to UCLA (1982); UCLA to Gorham (1986); Brentwood to 3378 Centinela (1988); Centinela to Nielson Way (1990); Nielson Way to Beverly Glenn (1993); Beverly Glenn to 1057 (1998); 1057 to Landlord Sucks (2025); Landlord Sucks to Myrtle (2025).
“Our house, in the middle of our street. Our house, in the middle of our street.”
Thank you for indulging in my places over the last 60 years. A trip down memory lane. My life in 9 thumbnails. Pretty straightforward. Pretty Southern California. Pretty geographically illiterate. But I know what I like. I like high property taxes, traffic, and earthquakes. It’s the only way to live. Speaking of property taxes. If your house burns down you are granted a special fire exemption. You get to transfer your property tax basis from your burnt home to your new home (if both in CA). The same statute applies if you are 55+ years old. I happen to be over 55 and own a burnt house. However, the law only applies if you sell your home. So basically, we bought a replacement home for our burnt home. But since we didn’t sell our burnt home dirt, the property tax basis from 1057 cannot be transferred to Myrtle. We have to sell 1057. But I don’t want to sell 1057 because of all the post fire unknowns? What a fucking tease law. Why are we required to sell our burnt dirt before we buy a replacement home? Currently, there are 146 burnt lots for sale in the Palisades. The projection is the number will be 1,000’s. What was once a neighborhood with high demand (and low supply), became a neighborhood in demand as Kanye’s latest “How to Be An Ideal Husband” video. Shouldn’t they make a “sales exception” if your burnt property hasn’t sold but you decided to replace it? Bass? Newsom? Bueller? Bueller? Anyone?
Anyway. We moved on Saturday without our property tax basis. We moved less than 100 days since the fires. It seems longer. I was talking to Lisa this week. Wendy, Lisa and I went to visit Uncle Ivan’s bench. It was his birthday. Ends up the bench donated in Ivan’s honor is just up the block from Myrtle. Feels right. Feels like true karma to be living so close to his memory. Ivan has always been special to me. Ivan and I had a family bond even though I married into the other side. The Wild Side.
Our bench visit made me miss Palisades Park. It’s where I coached my kids’ baseball teams. It’s where I met Holbrow, Korsan, Collins and Panish. It’s where I never got a team into the finals, and where I’d drink my playoff losses away with one of the other loser coaches. A whole season down the drain, just like that. There is just something about a park. A park seems so pure these days. I know I sound old. But go to a park and tell me how you feel. I felt pure. I felt Ivan.
“Our house, in the middle of our street. Our house, in the middle of our. Our house, in the middle of our street. Our house, in the middle of our (something tells you that you've got to move away from it).”
I told Lisa that the last 90+ days felt like a year or more. It’s because when we get into a repeatable routine, the days tend to blend and time seems to shorten. It doesn’t really shorten, but it feels that way. When your house burns down and you lose your routine, your normal becomes abnormal. Everything is different. Routines are lost. Routines change, and so does time. Time just feels different. Days feel more packed with things to do. Problems to solve. More things to worry about. Peeps to peep with. There is no normal. The loss of routine makes me feel the time. “I’m exhausted” is what Wendy and I seem to say often. Why? Same 24 hour time period, but different 24 hour routine. Exhausting. Exhilarating. Confusing.
People have asked me, “How (and why) did you decide to move so quickly?” Honestly, it hasn’t seemed all that quick to me. But I guess it has. Fire to Myrtle in 95 days. Not exactly routine. Not exactly an easy decision. Should we go back to the Palisades? Should we build back 1057? When could we start building? How much is it going to cost? How long is it going to take? Where should we rent? Hermosa Beach, Manhattan Beach, Topless Beach? How long should our lease be? Should we just buy and hope that we continue to like it here? Will our insurance pay out if we buy a house versus rebuilding 1057? Can we afford it? Should we afford it? What do our kids want to do? Will we be living too far from old friends? Too far from our sisters? What will we miss most if we don’t move back? What is the right decision? What if we make the wrong decision? Is there a right or wrong decision? Will we have regrets?
“Father gets up late for work. Mother has to iron his shirt. Then she sends the kids to school. Sees them off with a small kiss (ah). She's the one they're going to miss in lots of ways. Our house, in the middle of our street. Our house, in the middle of our”
12 Essential Life Questions:
Question #1: What is your biggest regret and how can your loved ones avoid the same?
I definitely have been thinking about “regret” as we decided to make an offer on Myrtle. Then upped the offer on Myrtle. Then signed the offer on Myrtle (see questions above). It’s normal to ask yourself (and others) these types of questions. Especially when facing “big” decisions. We all have that voice in our head. We all talk to ourselves over and over and over again throughout the day. Or at least I do. I’m a big believer that the voice in my head greatly influences the magnitude of my regret (s). And as I think about my regrets “recognition” and “perspective” play key roles in how I live.
Recognition is so powerful because without it we just go on letting that voice in our head control who we are. Control how we act. Control our emotions. Control our fear and our regrets. It doesn’t have to be that way. However, the first step is to recognize the voice and recognize what it is doing to us. Once we recognize our voice, then we can at least take steps to better influence its impact.
Over the next week, write down the very first thing your voice in your head says to you when you wake up. This morning it said, “You’re sore, bloated and fat.” Hmmm? That’s not very nice head voice. Thank you head voice, what do you want me to do with that? Should I slow down on the Captain Crunch for breakfast this morning? Yesterday it was, “Will the tariffs have an impact on Chinese food prices.” Hmmm? Two food themes in back to back mornings? Just recognize the voice. Hear the voice. I hear you voice, but you are not who I am. You will not control me. I hear you and I will deal with you. If I didn’t “recognize” my head voice I may have automatically searched for Ozempic discount codes. I’m not saying I didn’t do that, but at least I recognize my head voice isn’t 100% controlling me. My head voice won’t dictate all of my actions. All of my decisions.
“I remember way back then when everything was true and when. We would have such a very good time, such a fine time. Such a happy time. And I remember how we'd play, simply waste the day away. Then we'd say nothing would come between us. Two dreamers.”
“Perspective” is also powerful. There are no material regrets over the small decisions. Or at least there shouldn’t be. Life would be one regret after the other. Fuck, I should have ordered the vanilla shake with my Double - Double last night. I’m an idiot! Hmmm? Another food thought? Sometimes we think our decisions (and regrets) are bigger than they actually are. Often it just takes a different perspective to lighten the impact. I’ll use Myrtle for example. Wendy and I talked a lot about the decision to buy Myrtle. I mean, it’s a massive decision. Filled with potential massive regrets. We decided to move out of the Palisades (no choice) to Hermosa Beach (choice) while making a material investment during a chaotic market. The voice in my head was rambling. But what if we changed our perspective? What if the move may or may not be permanent. What if we reframe the purchase as a temporary adventure that we can evaluate over time? We could always sell Myrtle. We could always build back in the Palisades. We could always buy something different in the Palisades. Let’s change our perspective from “permanency” to “adventure seeking.” I know this may sound elementary, but the change in perspective made our decision to buy Myrtle easier. It didn’t seem so permanent. The shift in perspective lowered our regret magnitude meter.
I also feel if you fully commit to a decision then just act like it’s the right one. Another example of a change in perspective. You get to control the outcome. Go all in. If you are deciding between (2) jobs the one you choose is the right one. Commit. If you are deciding to leave or stay in a relationship, the path you choose is the right one. Commit. If you are deciding whether or not to buy the house. Commit. It’s the right one. That trip. That dress. That conversation. Commit. Commit. Commit. Make it be the right decision with the right perspective and the proper commitment. You have a much better chance with a fully committed attitude. Half ass is a waste of time. We all half ass stuff. It’s normal. But when you turn half ass into full monty, your life will change. Maybe a bad analogy. But you get it. Full Monty the shit out of something you are Half Assin'. See if it helps you get through it, and possibly relieve your stress over the decision you made.
“Father wears his Sunday best. Mother's tired, she needs a rest. The kids are playing up downstairs. Sister's sighing in her sleep. Brother's got a date to keep, he can't hang around.
I remember asking my Dad what his regrets were after my Mom passed away. I was expecting something grand. Something that would bum me out. He said, “I wish I would have bought that apartment building on Crenshaw.” Exhale. Perspective. Not a regret that impacted his or my Mom’s life in any material way. But he still seemed to have lived with that regret a long time. Too long. I think I understand why. But that’s a whole different discussion. What are my regrets?
I regret when my business failed and I lost money for investors.
I regret stealing a uniform out of the Fabulous Forum player’s locker room after a Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers concert.
I regret my behaviors that have caused unnecessary harm to others. There are some that come to mind and others that I’ll never be fully aware of.
I regret on a Vegas trip putting all of my food money on black.
To Julia and Reid, here are my lessons about “regret”:
Challenge your perspective. It may lessen your regret magnitude meter.
If you commit to a decision, it’s the right one. Don’t look back. Regret is about the past. Full Monty.
It’s ok to have regrets. Learn from them and move forward.
Recognize your head voice, but don’t let it control your decisions.
Don’t allow your head voice to make you dwell on a regret.
Ask others about their regrets. Knowledge is power.
We are moving into Myrtle with no regrets. Thumbnail #9 (2025) here we go. Let the memories begin. It’s not permanent. We are on an adventure. Time to unpack. Time to remember. Time to give space in Thumbnail #9 for the memory of Thumbnail #7. Fuck Thumbnail #8.
“Our house, was our castle and our keep. Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep. Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street, our house.”
We shall never forget with no regrets. Time to smile and keep unpacking. Time to make Myrtle our own for at least the time being. Who knows what the days shall bring. Who knows what feelings will come and go. We move. We move on to Thumbnail #9. We bring with us everything we accumulated from 1/7/25 to 4/12/25. We bring with us hope.
Where’s my Captain Crunch? How can you kids forget to pack the Captain? I regret my mistakes in raising you. No soup for you. Bueller? Bueller? Anyone?
Great blog as always!