Sneaky Philadelphia (1)

Random things that I bet aren't in the "public domain" in Philadelphia:

1. Jay's Deli on 13th and Spruce sells Metropolitan Bakery bread cheaper than Metropolitan Bakery does.

How does that happen? It's fresh, too.


2. You can park on Naudain St. between 22nd and 23rd streets without a parking permit.

There are no signs to say you can't. I recommended it to a neighbor the other day when they were having people from out of town stay over - and didn't want to shell out the $20 or whatever it is to park in the parking lot. It's a bit of a tight street - but what do you expect for free?


3. The news cart on Broad and Spruce streets always has a special on Camel Lights and Parliament Lights.

2 for one.


4. The day to go to Fox and Hound (15th and Spruce St.) is Tuesday.

Every pint (and there's lot to choose from) is $2.50. All day.

Saving $135.00 at Starbucks

Something fiendishly simple occurred to me the other day while I was waiting in line for my morning fix of the legalized highly-addictive stuff they pour at the corporate green coffee giant a few blocks from my office.

It's my opinion (and I think I'm right) that the prices at Starbucks (or anywhere else with a tip-jar, for that matter), are designed to price the purchased item such that there's a change amount from a whole number of dollars which is:

a) not significant enough to put back in your pocket

and

b) significant enough to be a pretty darn good tip over time

My normal drink is a Grande Americano. That comes to $2.46 every day (criminal, isn't it?).

I always pay with 3 singles or perhaps a $5 bill - and up until a few days ago, the 54 cents went straight into the tip jar. Didn't even think about it.

Hang on ... multiply that out. 54 cents, every work day (5 for me), times 50 weeks ... that's $135 a year I'm throwing in there! That's 13 times more annual tip than I give the garbage people or the mail carrier!!

But, you feel obliged to do it really don't you? The tip jar is just sitting there saying "feed me, feed me". And the person that went before you put their change in there. And the spotty teen at the register almost puts the change in there for you (see point a, above).

My solution: use a credit card for every coffee purchase. How simple is that?. They swipe the card - you don't sign anything (presumably, because it's under $20 or whatever the limit is). No tip. No guilt. It's a win-win! Plus you probably get airmiles or rewards points or whatever your particular card offers.

And I don't have to worry about cash and all the nasty, grubby hands that the change or bills have been in. And I save $135 a year. That's a free 54 cups of coffee, people!

Am I cheap? Yup. :)

Day eleven - trashcans revisited

Got here a bit later than usual this morning - but what the hell. It's not as if I missed some crappy status meeting is it?

Went out for a steak last night for Heather's birthday. Moderate amount to drink.

Don't miss working int he slightest. And I'm certainly not bored. Time seems to go so quickly - this is the end of the second week of the rat race escape already. I tested the market by applying for a few jobs today that I didn't want. Got an email back - love this one - offering me equity stake in the company in lieu of compensation. Now, call me old-fashioned, but I rather thought that people liked to interview/meet a prospective employee first. That's the first time I've been offered part of a company on the initial contact. Jokers.

I wonder if anyone watches me the same way as I watch others sitting here every morning? There must be people that think "oh - there's that guy writing in his book again". There's a guy 2 benches away who has a rocking problem (I've noticed that seems to be quite a common quirk). Just sitting there rocking back and forth. Apart from that - looks totally normal.

Well, except for his bag which looks like it contains several severed heads. Just kidding.

I haven't seen many dumpster divers recently but, just like buses, two came along at the same time. Really sad looking woman, maybe 50s, ripped up jeans, carpet slippers, dirty old winter coat looking through the trashcans. Didn't find anything she liked the look of, obviously.

Then some old dude - they actually crossed paths but didn't acknowledge each other. You'd think the conversation would have been:

Man: anything good in there?
Woman: nah - just a banana skin and some bagged-up dog shit
Man: oh, great - I was looking for a bag! Thanks.
Woman: You're welcome.

But seriously ... he's dressed a lot better - leather coat that has a rip in the right arm. Waterproof pants - smart-looking shoes. And a leather bag. He's fishing newspapers out with a very weathered look on his face. And what looks like a hat - but might actually be a pair of ladies' tights.

He's arranged the paper (from the trash) on the bench to sit on. Getting food out of his bag - chocolate pudding and a bread roll. Huh? For breakfast? Now throwing his bread at the birds.

Craaaaazeeeeeeee.

Day ten - the fat police

A week and a half away from work. Feels fantastic. Everything's always better with the sun out anyway.

All the mothers and babies are out again. I wonder what they do in the winter. Today looks like the step aerobics workout for new mothers - they put the babies facing the mother, then the mothers do their synchronized work out. Looks to be an arranged thing coz there's an instructor girl - she's the one without a kid.

Black poodle guy is here again.

What is amazing is how quickly the time actually goes. Just sitting and watching the world go by is a time consuming job. It never goes this fast when you're at work. Or when you're waiting for a train or a plane or something. It's Wednesday and I've done nothing of any value at all. (Value measured by corporate standards, I suppose).

There's an obscenely overweight police officer who sits in the square on his fat ass every day - he's around a lot. Some tattooed guy was riding a bike through the square. Which, quite rightly, is an offense punishable by 6 lashings and a good going over in a police holding cell. I think. Anyway - fatty jumps up and starts giving chase puffing and panting - yelling at the guy to stop. Tattoo guy just keeps walking! The more the officer shouts, the more out of breath he gets. No hope of catching anyone. Not in that state.

Every Day Is Saturday: Day eleven - trashcans revisited

Why cool hot water?

Some of my best ideas occur to me in the shower. And this morning was no exception.

There I was, doing the dance with the taps to get the temperature just right, and I thought to myself: "self, why the hell do you spend good money and waste good energy heating the water to a certain temperature - only to mix it with cold water so that you can use it?"

Why indeed? There had to be a reason. Washing machine? Nope. That has a thermostat and takes in hot/cold water to get to a certain temperature. Dishwasher - nope. That actually heats water to damn near boiling. Shower? Well - that's the problem in the first place - the hot water is too hot to use.

I can't think of a good reason to have the hot water hotter than you can use it, except that it has to be stored hot enough to kill bacteria (120 degrees F). So, I turned the temperature down on the water heater. That's got to be greener and save money hasn't it? I'll post the calculated savings. :)

Day nine - bags full of too much produce

Bit later to the square today. Got some bananas which are in the process of marinating in their own rot sitting on the kitchen counter. The vipers had bought them from the dude round the corner at the pizza shop, who for some reason was selling 2 bunches for $2. So, needless to say, they've sat there since.

I had bananas and custard one day last week - but there's only so much of that one guy can eat. So, anyway, I was down at the grocery store to buy baking soda and baking powder (what is the difference?) in order to make banana nut bread. Got a recipe from C.

Back to the pizza dude who sold us these unused 'naners. We got a bagfull of red bell peppers and green 'hot' peppers over the weekend. Again - $2 for all you can carry.

So today (after a lunchtime pint) - gonna do some 'naner nut bread. With choc chips.

This not working stuff is fantastic. The vipers thought I'd get bored - and deep down - I thought I would too. But so far, so good. The days actually seem to fly by. They go so much quicker than a day at work.

And another thing - I just don't care what time it is. At work, I was constantly obsessing about the time - meetings, timesheets, other crap - now it doesn't matter what time it is. Excellent.

Weather's ok today. Not hot - not cold. I have shorts on, but also a light jacket. There's just a little breeze - very pleasant. Sun is trying to come out. Bought a solar panel yesterday with a little motor. Would be nice to build something that costs nothing to use (am I becoming cheap?)

Getting something for nothing has something very appealing about it though. I was reading an article about some guy straightening reclaimed nails from a neighbor's lumbar - that's a bit extreme. OK. 11:55am. Must be time for the rats to leave their race and come out for lunch. No real sign of them yet though. I'll sit here for a bit longer to see what happens.

There are a lot of nannies around it seems. Women with babies who obviously don't belong to them ... they look too different.

Was supposed to be meeting with Jim tomorrow night - but he's not coming now. Oh well - that would have just cut into my week anyway. :)

1:30pm. In the pub. Just finishing pint #2. That's enough for one lunchtime. Weather is absolutely beautiful now, so gonna go out and sit in the sq for a bit. Got some shopping to do. Well - buy a birthday card for the old lady, and perhaps a hat.

Gotta love not working.

Every Day Is Saturday: Day ten - the fat police

Day eight - Off-ramp economy

(5/8/06, 10am)

I'm adapting to this life of leisure nicely - haven't really given the office much thought at all.

The guy who stands near the Starbucks saying "scuse me, can you spare me something so I can get something to eeeeeeeeeat" is in the square. Smoking, drinking Pepsi and has three bags of groceries with him. Fraud. I bet there's a fair few who make a living from begging.

I saw an off-ramp woman get handed $2 on Saturday. Say if that happens every time the light changes, I make that, like $60 an hour. Not bad at all.

Every Day Is Saturday: Day nine - bags full of too much produce

Day five - "Happy" Friday

(from 5/5 @ 8:45am)

No entry yesterday, coz the nest of vipers was off too, so spent the day with her.

I didn't spend a penny on Wednesday, as planned - although it was a little close coz after the people had been and gone I was choking for a beer.

Went and met the vipers from work and went to the usual place for a few pints - she had to pay in order to keep the $0 day.

Sat in the square last evening around 5:30, eating ice-cream and watching the after-work crowd. Amazing how many congregate here and eat salads or sushi. Something I'd never thought to do. Except it wouldn't be salad or sushi anyway.

Weather was fantastic yesterday - wore shorts all day and walked down to the old city. Had a few pints in the pub down there.

Beautiful morning again - low 60's, high of 80-something. Great watching the people with their coffees and lunch bags and those rolly bags that people have started taking to work now (like pilots). Oh, and I've just had a text to tell me that it's officially "Tit Friday" - apparently the magical day in the year when all the girls are off to work in skimpier clothing than normal to herald the arrival of summer.

Looks more like "Banana tit Friday" from where I'm sitting though - I'm in the wrong place again.

Every Day Is Saturday: Day eight - Off-ramp economy

What to do when you don't go to work any more

Not working is difficult stuff.

Well, actually it isn’t, but you’ve got to get your head around the idea. After so long being an employee – getting up when the alarm goes off, taking a shower, grabbing a coffee, getting to work at 8:30 or whatever – suddenly not having to conform to that template is quite alien.

It takes quite some time for it to sink in that you no longer have to get up at a set time. You do not need to have coffee while you’re driving to work or on the train.

Have you ever tried walking with a coffee? Certain days, you don’t have enough hands to drink it, hold your umbrella, answer your phone, have a smoke and carry your bag. I can’t believe that someone hasn’t invented an easier way to drink coffee in the morning. Perhaps an adapted version of one of those ‘beer hats’ they have at games might work. But a thermos version. It would double as quite a toasty hat in the winter too.

You look at the clock and feel guilty that you’re still in your PJs and slippers or whatever at 9:45 in the morning. The cat seems to be looking at you with the kind of disgust reserved for someone caught trying to fart in its food bowl. The cat thinks you’re being a lazy slacker – it’s used to having the house to itself by this time in the day – free to do whatever the hell it doesn’t do all day without any human interference. That feeling doesn’t go away for a while.

You’ve got to do some stuff which is totally out of your Mr. or Miss Corporate character to make you feel alive. Things that are reckless, things that your old manager would write you up for. Here are some suggestions:

1. Walk around town

Don’t be wearing anything like business clothing, though. You need to be wearing shorts, t-shirts with “Fuck Off” written on them, ripped jeans – you know what I’m talking about. Nothing says “I’m not working” like someone who’s just bumming around town in non-work clothes during work hours doing what the hell they like.

2. Go grocery shopping

Sounds a bit lame, I know. But during your corporate 9-5, Mon-Fri life, you’ve had to sacrifice a precious few hours of your weekend for this task. Here’s a little secret: there is nobody around in the grocery stores during the week. Couple of doddery old grannies here and there – that’s it. The aisles are clear, the shelves are well stocked, they haven’t sold out of anything. The mid-week bargains are new and fresh (they usually end on Sundays) and the checkout lanes are clear.

3. Have a beer at lunchtime

In fact, have a few beers. Have a couple of shots too. There’s nothing like having a buzz on at lunchtime, staggering out of a pub while the corporate ants pour out of their buildings – free for 30 minutes – and scurry off to get a quick sandwich or sushi. It’s lunchtime, and you’ve been drinking and you’re drunk. Fantastic.

4. Go to a casino

There’s nothing that says “I’m not working” more than being in a casino at 11am on a Wednesday morning. Sitting at the blackjack table, people will ask you if you’re on vacation/holiday or how long you’re here for. Reply that you’re only here for an hour and that you’ve just discovered your inner slacker.

5. Take a nap

When have you ever had the chance to take a nap in the afternoon? Not since pre-school? Aha. Not any more. This is an absolute must every day. Don’t feel guilty about it – you’re not wasting time. You’re organizing your thoughts and regrouping (especially if you did #3). All those poor souls back at your ex-office in painfully boring meetings with no agenda, wibbling on about nothing – and there’s you in bed, taking a nap at 2:30pm. Great.

Day Two - the characters around me

Sitting in the square again. Different side this time. I don't want to be one one those people who always sits in the same place - I'm starting to notice those people already.

Brought a cup of tea and a book along today too. And there's the annoying sound of leaf blowers accompanying the smell of freshly-cut grass.

Damn leafblowers - a huge cloud of dust just came my way. What's wrong with sweeping the old fashioned way?

There are some characters around, you know. You really don't have to look that far to find them. Some guy in the center of the square seems to be moving like he forgot his walking frame. Keeps doing Jackie Chan kicks. Or Chuck Norris 'roundhouses'. The guy with the black poodle is here again. And there's a ridiculous looking woman whose hair is bigger than her fat ass. And that's fat.

It's not the most comfortable writing on a park bench. I was spoiled with that back supporter thing that I deliberately left at work.

Another character: (you see these everywhere though) woman, must be mid 50's - probably worked for a band in the 80's - Big Country or something - still trying to be "there". Jeans and denim jacket that belong on an 18-year-old. Designer handbag. Those cloth flip-flops that I guess are supposed to be cool. Silly hair. Designer-looking wraparound shiny sunglasses. What a mess.

Painting guy has just set up in front of me. Hasn't seen me yet. He's very free. He's doing something that he really enjoys - gets up when he wants. Paints when he wants. And obviously enjoys it.

There are so many people walking around with their ears plugged up with those white iPod things. There is sooo much to listen to out here - why not go home and listen to your music? How about making sounds of the square with birds and squirrels available on iTunes? Then these people would know what they're missing.

Here's another one for us: crazy chick walking around backwards, punching the air. Do these people not know what they look like?
Every Day Is Saturday: Day three - trying not to spend anything

Day three - trying not to spend anything

(from 5/3/2006, 9:40am)

In the square again with tea. Just went to the bank to deposit loose change. The vipers is going to hate me - but there you go. She's at work and the coins were defenseless. They were just looking at me saying "Dada - deposit us". So I did. $82.73 - close to the $100 a day that I cost just "existing".

Yesterday didn't spend too much: $25 on a haircut and $20 on lunch with next door and over the road, then $24 on Chinese food for dinner. Oh and $2 on a birthday card for he who has birthday on the 9th. Actually, that's $71 isn't it? Wow.

Black poodle guy is here again. As is Mark. He's sketching a building on the SE side of the square. For the first time (well, this week), I have to keep an eye on my watch coz I've got people coming at noon. It's been really nice not having to do anything at any particular time, but the strange thing is that my body is still waking me up for work at the "usual" time, I eat lunch at the "usual" lunchtime.

I don't think there's any need to spend any money today. I'm going to see what that's like. I can't remember a day that I did that ... that's dreadful isn't it? Well, I suppose I already have spent money just by incurring costs: I have used hot water, electricity, made an international phone call, surfed the web, checked my email, boiled water and used the toaster.

I had worried that I'd be tempted to smoke during this time. I used to smoke when I was bored or not doing anything else, but so far, so good. I dreamt about it last night, that there was a new law that you had to get a smoking permit in order to be able to smoke. You had to stand in line, then pay $2 then you got your permit. I told them that I had quit at New Year, but intended to start again soon. I guess that's tied in with the World Cup - England's first game is June 10th - when I said I would have one. We'll see.

Every Day Is Saturday: Day five - "Happy" Friday

Day One - What to do?

EDIS – day one. 5/1/2006
(obviously, the names have been changed to protect the guilty)

This idea, or the name, came from Tania. She decided to get out of the rat-race for a bit, and spent as far as I can tell about 2 years being an absolute bum. The idea has rattled around in my head for years now – the concept of “Every Day Is Saturday” – spending a good deal of time saving money in order to take a substantial break from work.

Feels great! A shitty day off must be better than a great day at work. Well, at least, that’s what we’re told. I’m going to find out …

Already had a text from Brenda: “Bastard J” and “Miss ya already”.

It’s a beautiful day, it’s 9:30am and I’m sitting alone in the square. Had a dentist appointment this morning. All good. Must floss weekly at least. Like that’s gonna happen. Got to color my teeth too. I’ve had the kit in the fridge for 6 months – been meaning to do it since I put it in there.

Why am I doing this? Well, I was bored at work. The $ was fantastic, and I could have stayed for ever. But I used to spend all week looking forward to the weekend, and then all weekend dreading Monday. That’s no way to live.

Today’s Monday. And I would be preparing for a shitty ICL status meeting at 11am now. Then the TPS reports. Which were an absolute waste of time – I was only allowed to report the positive things, all the issues had to be silenced. What the hell is the point in that?

I didn’t sleep well last night. I think deep-down, I was worried about what I’ve done. I’ve given up a steady(ish) reliable source of income. Dave has already told me that I’ll never make that kind of money ever again in my life. That’s a little scary. But it’s not all about money (that’s all he thinks about). I figure absolute worst case, I’ve got about 2 years worth of living expenses if I liquidate everything I have. Would be a shame to lost all that, but maybe after a few weeks or months of this, I will have a different view of what it’s there for. You can’t take it with you, right? So many people die or have something extremely unfortunate happen to them without ever being able to enjoy what I suppose we’re all working towards: a happy, healthy retirement.

Some people might see this as complete laziness: Dave already emailed me about “sucking it up” or something – but that was probably money-related too.

I wonder if that’s what money buys? Time? I always used to say that anything can be done given time & money. Money = possessions. But what do we really need? Somewhere to live. Shelter (a home). Food. Something to do. That’s important. Probably why people feel so attached to work … their jobs.

A few people said that I’m brave to do this. What? Give up working for a bit and relax? People who are conditioned to work seem to thing that’s all there is. Work to live? Or live to work? There’s definitely something very American about working. Which makes to wonder just how “free” we are. The people I see scurrying past me with their corporate IDs around their necks, clothes that I’m sure they’d rather not be wearing on a day like today, shirts, ties, suits, sensible shows, briefcases, messenger bags. Just how “free” would they say they are? Slaves to time. Slaves to the corporate clock. Status meeting every Monday at 11!! Ha ha – I’m not going to be there. And does it matter? I wouldn’t think so. What did I really do there anyway?

10am. I don’t really know what to do! There’s part of me that wants to go for a pint. I’ll probably do that at lunchtime – just because I can.

My goals: to relax. Or at least – learn how to. Slow down a bit. To not spend all night dreaming of and worrying about someone else’s problems.

There are two girls sitting just about the border or earshot. I can hear the odd word. One keeps popping gum bubbles. They’re a bit overweight, jeans with their “muffin tops” sticking over the top – white t-shirts. Maybe from out-of-town because one asked a passer-by to take a photo of them.

There are a lot of 50ish something people sitting around, reading. Maybe retired. A lot of mums or nannies with babies and toddlers. This must be what happens on a Monday when you’re not at work. Sure beats working though.

Every Day Is Saturday: Day Two - the characters around me

Quitting work - the thoughts behind it

Like practically everyone else, I went to school, got good grades and got a job at the end of it. I was 17. At 17, to make the money I was making was absolutely fantastic – I wasn’t used to earning anything like the money you make when you start your first full-time job. I had earned enough to run my car and have a night out a week working at McDonald’s, which actually, when you’re 16, doesn’t pay too bad at all. But it’s an organization which has analyzed every component of the supply chain and optimized it to near perfection, including the humans who are operating the burger-making and cash-taking machines. It doesn’t take too long working there for you to realize that you do not want to eat their food.

I had been messing around with computers since I was a kid. I got a Commodore Vic20 for Christmas when I was 10 years old. My parents were skeptical about what I’d do with a computer – I’d been begging for one for ages – my father thought I’d just play games on it.

I never did. I wanted to learn how it worked, and after mastering BASIC (which, let’s face it, takes about a week), I moved onto what at the time was called “machine code”. The first book I ever bought for myself, when I was 11 years old, cost me 9.95 – it was called “Programming the 6502” by Rodnay Zaks. I had to save my pocket money for over 2 months to buy it, and I remember being told by my grandmother (who was staying with us at the time) that I was wasting my money. I didn’t really care though, because I knew that this book was going to give me all the information I needed to understand this mysterious world of op-codes and registers.

I was so naïve – I didn’t even know that you needed an assembler. I used to write my programs in assembly language, translate them manually into decimal by looking up the op-codes, then create a little program in BASIC to ‘poke’ the who program into memory, then run it. Absolutely amazing. I’ll not forget the first one that worked - I crashed my computer many, many times before I got it right and I had to type it all back in again – it scrolled a pixel across the screen from right to left. Wow.

I messed around with programming all the way through high school – I used to write programs that were an attempt to automate my homework, working out verb endings for French words in various tenses or calculating the chemical symbol for Calcium Carbonate for example, based on the valency of the components. I had no idea that this wasn’t going to be possible for anything past atomic number 20. And still don’t understand why, really.

So, then the career people start talking to you about what you’re going to do for a job. I knew that I didn’t really want to go to University – I was fed up with learning stuff - the idea was to take a “year out”. A small manufacturing company was looking for trainee programmers in a town near me, so I took their aptitude test. I heard that I apparently had aptitude, and was offered a job. I think at the time I was offered a job as a trainee in a bank too. How different life may have turned out if I had taken that path instead.

The trainee programmer job was in an office where I had to wear a suit and tie to work every day. The people in the office were at least 10 years older than me, and everyone smoked at their desk. All day, every day, the office was just a huge cloud of smoke containing programmers tapping away at their COBOL programs.

Going from next to nothing to a salaried job with a regular wage – I just didn’t know what I was going to do with all that money. It was about $15,000 a year. I still lived with my parents and gave them ‘rent’, but to be honest for the daily meals, laundry service, 24/7 access to a very comfortable house – the amount I paid was nothing.

I was about 9 months in that job, when I saw another job advertised about 30 miles away which was offering a lot more money. This was with a bank, still programming, but this time in mainframe assembler. I truly enjoyed that work. The programming itself was low level, incomprehensible to outsiders and the environment taught me a lot about software projects, self-organization and time management.

I moved jobs a few more times and eventually ended up as an IT consultant (see how that happens?!). The assignments often stressful, but I was well-liked, well-respected and was extremely well-paid.

But it was no longer fun. I was miserable. I looked forward to weekends when I didn’t have to go there. I hated Mondays. Workdays, I was up at 6:30am or earlier, rushing to work to start billing and start being miserable. A rushed lunch (too much work to do, too much time lost not billing), then back to meetings, deadlines, ridiculous rules, sycophants, brown-nosers, office politics and petty arguments.

About a year before I quit, I had made my decision to take a break. I had taken hardly any time off at all over the previous 10 years. It was time for an extended vacation.

Every Day Is Saturday: Day One - What to do?