Hiking and Bicyling in SLO

For starters here’s a short clip I took while hiking up Bishop Peak, a mountain about 1400 ft (400m). The trail begins just a five minute walk from my house (view Video):

I have two entire hours with no plan and nothing to take care of. An unusual moment in the last 18 days. The day did start off busy though. I accompanied the girls on bike (yeah) to school where they had to take an English placement test (“easy” they said). We checked out the best route and were there in about 20 minutes. Then I decided on an insurance plan for my car and finally I sat myself down in my favorite café in SLO, Linea’s.

It is great to have a bike. On my bike, like walking, I can much better get a sense for the town.

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Registration day at SLO High

The city also has a great biking infrastructure. Germany could even learn something. In most of the neighborhoods on the way to town the streets are seemingly abandoned and super wide. Hardly a car around and if one comes they drive very slowly and are terribly polite.

 

From our house, we rode down the tree-lined Jeffrey St. to Chorro St. which brought us straight into downtown. Chorro is a dedicated bike street, meaning bikes have the right-of-way and can use the street just like cars. Downtown and on many of the faster streets there are bike lanes. For the most part they are wide enough and near the intersections are painted green so cars are warned to watch out. Along many of the bike lanes there are little signs saying “no parking, bike lane”. Luckily the city decided against separated bike paths. I don’t like them because they are usually not well-maintained and are dangerous at intersections.

Continuing down the road in a t-shirt and shorts I noticed more bicycle-friendly traffic sign such as “Left turn yields to bicycles”. This sign is for cars who are turning left telling them that they have to watch for bicycles in the opposite lane and that they have the right of way.

I was sweating by the time I left the girls for their English test. We had to climb a small hill and my new road bike doesn’t have enough gears. The thing is, though, is that the temperature is perfect. It’s not too hot and not too cold and it’s not humid at all. After dropping off the girls I sat down in a charming patio at the café, I am perfectly comfortable in my summer attire.

This evening we are inviting my sisters and their family over to dinner in our fancy little house. We got so lucky with our house. We are renting a unit in the front part of a nice home in a fancy neighborhood on the south side of San Luis Obispo. We enter the house from the front. The owners have to enter through their garage. Funny. We have two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a little kitchen, a living room and a dining room and, listen to this, an indoor fountain. Not to mention the fact that we have an outdoor fountain in front of our door also.chips-sm.jpg

The owners did an extension their house to build this additional guest space or rental unit and put much attention into detail. The indoor fountain is about 7 feet high and the water spews straight down along a tiled wall into a little pool. It was designed so that no water gets onto the cherry wood floors. It’s Brazilian Cherry to be more exact.

It has a vaulted ceiling and fake Roman columns built into the inner wall. Large windows open up out on to the front lawn (with fountain and two palm trees I forgot to mention). The owners also put much care into the furniture and lamps and lighting. Not only are there fancy lamps in the corners, but there is a system of ceiling lamps that let you create all kinds of different spacial experiences.

I and the girls still need to decide what to cook for my family. We have done a lot of cooking in the 18 days since we’ve been here and it’s been a joy working with them. The girls love the shopping experience. There are huge supermarkets, smaller natural food stores and their favorite is the Grocery Outlet, a huge supermarket that sells groceries that normal supermarkets throw out.

The choices of fruits and vegetables here in California is impressive. We have had cantaloupes and peaches, avocado and squash and lots of pulpy orange juice. We do need to be careful about the prices. The price variation is amazing. At one natural food store, a bottle of milk was over $4. At the next one it was only $1,50. The old saying “caveat emptor” should be taught to every grade school kid in the state.

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I will close this blog with this great message posted in front of a home in Los Osos.

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Sitting at the bay, buying a car and playing with whales

The sun is about 20° over the horizon looking out onto the Pacific Ocean past Morro Bay. Does that mean about an hour until sunset, or two? I will have to study that. The solar eclipse will be happening in a few days. The moon will be moving in front of the sun and if we were up in Oregon day would turn into night for a few minutes. Down here it will be partial. I did get to witness that once. It was in Germany perhaps 20 years ago. My son Julian was with me up on the hill overlooking the valley where Tübingen lies. It rained like crazy and we were all cowering under a huge tarp when all of a sudden it got dark. Right in the middle of the day. It was weird and kind of scary. I didn’t really like it.

Not sure why I mention that now while sitting here on a park bench on the shore of Morro Bay. There are a few sailboats anchored out in the bay and more moored at the two little piers here south of the marina. It’s a peaceful evening. There’s no wind, at least not over here. Over at the beach on the ocean side it might be windy. It’s also sunny here which is not always the case. It gets foggy and cloudy here in Morro Bay and Los Osos a lot in the summer. That hasn’t bothered me a bit. It’s still warm and the clouds give you a bit of respite from the strong sunrays.

Just sitting here looking out onto this large blue bay is a perfect moment and kind of symbolic. I have, miraculously, taken care of the endless challenges of getting here and now I have arrived. A school of screeching seagulls just flew overhead and I hear the barking sea lions off in the distance. A boat’s horn is howling and the sea water is gently patting the columns of the dock. I have arrived.

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Sand spit visibe on left

The soft afternoon sun is warming my cheek as I gaze out to the sand spit (Nehrung in German), a 3 mile-long (5 km) deposit of sand forming a finger of land at the western edge of the bay. It starts in Los Osos and ends just before Morro Rock and has a series of rather high dunes. I have never been there and even though they are but a kilometer from my park bench it seems like a dream to be able to walk up and down those mountains of sand in the sea. I plan to walk all the way out and back but looking at it I am not sure if I can even make it in one day. I will have to bring sufficient water and a cell phone.

 

Just sitting here looking out onto this large blue bay is a perfect moment and kind of symbolic. I have, miraculously, taken care of the endless challenges of getting here and now I have arrived. A school of screeching seagulls just flew overhead and I hear the barking sea lions off in the distance. A boat’s horn is howling and the sea water is gently patting the columns of the dock. I have arrived. The soft afternoon sun is warming my cheek as I gaze out to the sand spit (Nehrung in German), a 3 mile-long (5 km) deposit of sand forming a finger of land at the western edge of the bay. It starts in Los Osos and ends just before Morro Rock and has a series of rather high dunes. I have never been there and even though they are but a kilometer from my park bench it seems like a dream to be able to walk up and down those mountains of sand in the sea. I plan to walk all the way out and back but looking at it I am not sure if I can even make it in one day. I will have to bring sufficient water and a cell phone.

Cars, Whales and Community in Arroyo Grande

There is so much to write about and so much to say about my first two weeks in California. Where can I start? Perhaps I could tell you about my car search two days ago. Being in California it quickly became obvious that I needed a car. I have been looking for many weeks and had focused my search on four different offers: a Toyota Sienna minivan, a Honda Civic, a Ford something and a Kia Sedona minivan. Funny enough they were all in Arroyo Grande, a city about 20 km south of San Luis Obispo.

I borrowed my sister’s 30-year-old Ford van and headed down the highway. The van has a giant motor and driving down the highway felt like driving a big semi-truck (LKW for the Germans). The highways are great to drive on here; wide lanes, not many cars, speed limits between 90 and 110 km/h. Very relaxing and in that big van it felt like steering a ship.

Curving through the gentle, dry mountains south of San Luis I reached the coast near Pismo Beach and was astounded to look down the coastline and see a long peninsula of sandy dunes reaching out into the ocean. It reminded me of some movie with images of the Saharan Desert meeting the sea. Even though I grew up in California and had been on that highway many times, I never remember seeing this odd peninsula jutting out into the water. Perhaps it was the way the evening sun was illuminating the white dunes or the way the light reflected off the deep blue water. The dunes stretch what looked like 10 km out into the water, they looked to be 100 meters high.

I got off on Halcyon Blvd to get to the house with the first owner. At that point, I didn’t know what Halcyon referred to, but more on that later. The owner of the Toyota Sienna was a recent immigrant of South Africa. After the removal of the Apartheid government and the economic downturn 2010 he had lost everything and came to America with his wife and three kids with only “the shirt on my back”. We struck up a nice conversation and he let me take a test drive all by myself. The three other owners, all Americans, wanted accompany in the car.

The second car was a small Ford sedan with a manual transmission, both very unusual in this country. The owner and I took a drive around town and also struck up a great conversation. He told me about the beaches, the dunes, local soccer clubs and bicycling. He asked if I wanted to see the beach so he pointed me in the direction of Pacific Coast Highway. He led me to a parking lot at the bridge with a gate and a guard. He told me to tell them that we just wanted to take a quick look. Well, he didn’t let me through but I saw with my own eyes that there was actually a long stretch of beach, maybe 10 km long, where people are allowed to drive their cars right on to the beach. I couldn’t believe it. I think it’s the only one in California. You have to pay five dollars a day or fifty for a year and you can drive all the way down to that fabulous dune peninsula. Much to my chagrin, the Ford owner also explained that the dunes are open to cars, mobile homes and dune buggies. I will have to go there with the girls and check it out, but I do hope we won’t see cars and campers all over the place.

After looking at the other cars, I had pretty much decided on the Toyota. On my way home I drove by the beach again, but a few miles to the north of where cars are driving on the beach. I parked and walked over on a narrow, wooden bridge along the sand and noticed people shouting and staring out into the water. I looked out and saw huge spouts of water about 300 meters off shore. I didn’t know what it was at first but asked someone who told me they were whales. I couldn’t believe it but then I saw one. A huge whale’s back came curving elegantly up out of the water. Then more spouts of water, then a gigantic whale tail waving up into the water. There were hundreds of seagulls flying above and for about ten minutes we watched and cheered on as this natural spectacle unfolded before our eyes.

I guess they were either Humpbacks (Buckelwal) or gray whales (Grauwal).

The following day I drove down to my South African friend’s house and purchased the Toyota Sienna. My nephew dropped me off near the owner’s house and on the short walk over I stumbled upon the City of Halcyon, California. I had seen something on Google Maps about a “People’s Temple” but I didn’t understand what it was. Luckily I was able to discover it on foot, the best way to move and experience. I walked down South Halcyon Blvd which is a typical city street, straight with wide lanes and built solely for the purpose of transporting motorized vehicles. Then I turned onto Temple Street and entered a paradise right smack in the middle of the very “normal” city of Arroyo Grande. The streets were narrow, the houses set back and sparsely spaced. It was the trees that caught my attention first. Huge eucalyptus, overgrown redwood and other tall, poorly trimmed trees. In the empty fields around the homes, fallen trees were lying around and degrading in peace. Unkempt bushes were taking over land on their own free will and a mood of serenity was prevalent.

In the 30 minutes that I walked through the small community I saw about four moving cars. I met Annie who was walking her old dog without a leash. While Annie was telling me that the place was 100 years old and was the oldest intentional community west of the Mississippi, doggie just lied down in the middle of the street. As a car approached at about 5 km/h Annie yelled lightly and told the dog to skedaddle over to the roadside.

The homes were mostly older, smaller places. Some looked more like cabins. None were fancy or ornate. It looked like they had a radical restriction on new housing. In fact none of the homes looked like they had been built in the last thirty years.

Halcyon is an incorporated city on 125 acres (50 ha) and was founded by the Theosophical Society in 1903. I don’t know anything about it but Rudolf Steiner was a follower before he founded the Anthroposophical Society. The community has public meetings every week and invite people to visit their library. It may be a bit too religious or spiritual for me, but the place has a powerful, attractive, warming energy that will certainly draw me back again soon.

Home Search in Morro Bay

As I was leaving Germany a few close friends and family members said, “oh, don’t worry, the time will go by quickly by the time you return”. I think they were saying that to comfort me. My reaction was, however, that I hope the time goes by very slowly. My feeling is that if days and weeks just fly by and you’re a year older without even noticing, then something is not so hot. Life is boring. If, though, a week seems like a month, then you are experiencing life intensely.

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The surfing gang at Morro Rock (aka The Pit)

Well, rest assured, the week since my last entry has been intense. It seems like a month or more. I must admit it has been a bit too intense. I have hardly had a moment to sit down and read my book or write in my journal (ah ha) or do nothing. This is fun but it can’t be sustained for too long.

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A struck of luck gave us this great house

The home search was one hell of an adventure. At some point, I was ready to just give up. One rejection after another. I even got a rejection yesterday after I already had my new place. For some reason my profile had minimal chances against all those vulture rental-seekers out there. Maybe I am too old, maybe they don’t like the fact that I lived in Germany and that my employer is in Germany. Maybe they don’t like my long, unkempt hair.

My home search started a few months ago on a website called craigslist. It’s a non-commercial site, which has basically killed the classified ads in newspapers, one of their most important revenue sources. From Germany, I was looking but realized that it was futile because the rentals were always available immediately and they all wanted to see the potential tenant.

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One of many cool messages around San Luis Obispo

We came up to my sister’s in Morro Bay last week and I jumped right in and drove all over and looked at various apartments, condos and houses. We saw amazing places and we saw some dumps. One place had a view directly over the harbor in Morro Bay. On my first visit it stunk of fish but the view was a sell. Another place had paint peeling off the exterior walls, spider webs up and down the entry way and looked more like a converted storage building than a house.

I applied for the one with the view and never heard back from them. We looked at a few places way over my budget. One was a very nice, small house on a lot overlooking a beautiful valley. The landscaping around the house was draught-resistant and blended perfectly into the environment. It had a back porch and sitting down on a chair I just wanted to remain there for the rest of the afternoon. That guy also rejected me.

One of our last hopes was a cute little house a few blocks from the beach in Morro Bay. It was a house from the fifties, with a vaulted ceiling, wooden trim on the windows and real wooden cabinets in the kitchen. I applied for that one but had delayed paying the $60 application fee. The girls and I had a nice chat with the two male owners but as I saw all the interested parties milling around the open house, I got totally depressed and felt I had no chance. There were young students, a young couple with no kids, a single woman and a man who had just suffered from stroke and was hardly able to speak. Yesterday I got an email from that guy saying they had decided on another person.

So many rejections in one week was trying. But, I don’t give a damn. I got a place and its awesome. It’s a charming two-bedroom, two bath unit in San Luis Obispo. It’s fully furnished and the owners are extremely friendly.

First Days in Los Angeles

Theresa, Lisa and I departed Union Station by train today. This is, I believe, the first time I have every taken an Amtrak train out of LA. This precludes the numerous light rail trains and subways I have frequented in my times in LA. Even though I am a big public transit enthusiast, this is my maiden venture.

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Theresa and Lisa at Santa Monica Beach

Departing from Union Station was momentous. The building itself is wonderful and does not pale to some of the magnificent stations of Hamburg, Paris or Milan. In fact, I have never in all my travels through Europe seen a train station with such cool lounge chairs. A couple months ago I was in Paris and while waiting for our train, my friend and I had to sit on the cold ground because of a lack of seating. Not in LA, though. Here they have wide, leather, cushiony seats, fit for a living room in a ritzy Beverley Hills home. The wooden arm rests are wide enough for a latte and a bagel. The station has ornate, carved wood ceilings and fancy tiled floors.

Union Station was built back in the thirties, which is super old for California. The construction was approved by a ballot initiative in 1926. Isn’t that cool. A popular vote was initiated to decide on building the station. It was a time of rapid growth in the city, even though it was relatively small. In 1920 the city had only 570,000 residents and by 1930 it had more than doubled to 1.2 million.

We departed right on time and headed north west through Pasadena, Glendale and out towards Oxnard. The train was very slow and the route is very curvy, obviously not improved for speed. I would guess, in fact, that the route has not been improved upon in its entire history. It took us two hours to get to Oxnard, a trip that would take about an hour by car.

It was pretty luxurious on the train, though. The tracks are about 20 feet from the beach and we enjoyed watching the surf and the beachgoers from our double decker train.

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Poster in Cafe in San Luis Obispo

It had been extremely hot in LA, way hotter than usual. But what’s usual in the day and age of climate change? I grew up in LA near the beach and it was never so hot and muggy. To avoid the heat everything is air conditioned. That’s also something I don’t remember as a kid. In the train there was cold air blowing down from the ceiling. I had to put my jacket and baseball cap on in hopes of not catching a cold. I hate it when I go into a store from the sweltering heat and get smacked in the face with ice cold air. I don’t know how the people manage not to get stiff necks and colds all the time. Not to mention the disastrous amounts of energy it wastes keeping these things blowing. I may end up living in California like a Muslim woman wearing a headscarf any time I go into a public building. We shall see.

A Workable, Transformative Ethics-Based Alternative

Christian Felber and Gus Hagelberg

This essay was originally published on February 27, 2017 at The Next System Project.

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The Economy for the Common Good (ECG) is a comprehensive and coherent economic model and is being practiced in hundreds of businesses, universities, municipalities, and local chapters across Europe and South America. It represents an alternative to both capitalism and communism. It emerges out of a holistic worldview and is based on “sovereign democracy, stronger democracy than exists today.

The model has five underlying goals:

  1. ownReuniting the economy with the fundamental values guiding society in general. The ECG encourages business decisions that promote human rights, justice, and sustainability.
  2. Transitioning to an economic system that defines serving the “common good” as its principal goal. The business community and all other economic actors should live up to the universal values set down in constitutions across the globe. These include dignity, social justice, sustainability, and democracy. These do not include profit maximization and market domination.
  3. Shifting to a business system that measures success according to the values outlined above. A business is successful and reaps the benefits of its success not when it makes more and more profits, but when it does its best to serve the public good.
  4. Setting the cornerstones of the legal framework for the economy democratically, in processes which result in concrete recommendations for reforming and reevaluating national constitutions and international treaties.
  5. Closing the gaps between feeling and thinking, technology and nature, economy and ethics, science and spirituality.

Read the the full article at The Next System Project.

 

A Framework for Ethical International Trade

Christian Felber and Gus Hagelberg

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This article was originally published on 1 January 2017 in the Huffington Post. Christian Felber was the main author and I was a contributing author.

Trade is not a goal in and of itself. The term free trade is subsequently a misnomer. Equally, protection is not a goal in and of itself. That is why “protectionism” is also a misnomer. Trade is valuable and protection makes sense, but none of them should be taken to the extreme. It would be blind and destructive to carry international division of labor to its logical end: Everything that is produced anywhere is exported and everything that is consumed, is imported from somewhere else. Export ratios would be 100%. Likewise, it would be blind and harmful to close down borders and stop trade completely.

Read full article