Blog

Short blog posts, journal entries, and random thoughts. Topics include a mix of personal and the world at large.

Do your job

My Youtube rabbit-hole this past weekend was personal finance videos. In particular, this episode of Caleb Hammer’s Financial Audit struck emotional resonance with me. The person having her finances checked over by Caleb is child of Chinese immigrants. Her family migrated over to America when she was eight years old. So did I! But unlike her, I am not swimming in credit card debt.

But like her, I bore the burden of supporting Chinese parents who did not know the English language, and were wholly unfamiliar with American culture. Whatever childhood we had were arrested abruptly, and we had to become essentially adults soon as we learned English. Any interaction with the outside world was automatically thrusted upon me. Can you imagine needing to go to the hospital, and it's your kid that has to communicate with the staff and fill out forms? Actual adults were suppose to do that!

I couldn’t ask my parents about anything. They simply did not know.

Needless to say, a lot of my proclivities and neuroticism stem from that period. Because I had to shoulder so much more burden than any typical kid, I absolutely detest anyone who cannot put their own weight. Nothing annoys me more at work than people who cannot do the one job they’re suppose to do. Me having to pick up the slack takes me right back to my childhood of performing the adult duties that my parents could not.

Another thing stemming from that time is my inability to ask for help - even when I totally can and should. Because I never could ask anyone for help back then. There was nobody to share that burden. So the adult me ends up trying to do as much as possible, by myself. Not because it’s the best way, but because I simply have not developed any better.

Obviously, I don’t blame my parents. It is, indeed, what it is.

There's no fairness here

I am still slightly peeved that my car insurance has gone up 20% in this recent renewal period. This, for a car I only drive for weekend leisure, and have zero accidents and claims on record. Inflation sure is a bitch, isn’t it?

What is keeping me peeved is responsible drivers like me are practically subsidizing those who are not so responsible. It’s not me that insurance is worry about - it’s the other drivers on the road. California insurance minimums are too low to afford anything. Cars are so laden with technology that a simple bumper repair on a 2021 Toyota Corolla is over $10,000 (personal knowledge). Any basic fender-bender caused by me - god forbid - my insurance is out at least five-figures just to fix the other party’s car!

No wonder my premium has increased. And I thought it was suppose to decrease consistently as I get older! Lies!

The worst of the worst driving out in our roads are those uninsured and unlicensed. If one of those drivers were to hit me - I am absolutely on my own. There’s no opposing insurance to get money from. And because those who are uninsured aren’t likely to have any assets, there’s nothing for me to sue after, either. The proverbial rock cannot be made to bleed.

Again: the responsible drivers with proper insurance are paying for the subset of drivers who are not insured, or under-insured. It’s not fair, but that’s life. We got to protect our assets and cover potential risks.

It’s sad to see on the r/insurance subreddit folks complaining after accidents. It would typically involve an offending driver with no insurance, but the victim also doesn’t have collision coverage on their policy! So they had a perfectly working car, then boom, now they don’t. Their own insurance won’t pay to fix the car, and the other driver doesn’t have anything. Bad luck, absolutely. Bad planning? Heck yeah. The victims should have had collision on their policies.

Got to cover any downside risks that you cannot afford!

Take it easy

It’s been said that depression is dwelling on the past, and anxiety is focusing on the future. To be perfectly content, you must be attentive to right now.

I guess my anxiety lately then is focusing too much on what’s coming next, even though I am thoroughly enjoying nexts that are coming up. Life is going great. I like the work that pays me well, and my hobbies and whatnot is intensely fulfilling. But that doesn’t obviate the fact there is a list of things to do, every day. Things need to get done, no matter that I enjoy doing them.

And there lies the problem. I would wake up and get anxious about the to-do list. You know how back in the schooling days, we would get home from school and eagerly tackle our pile of homework. Because we know that soon as we finish, we can go do the fun stuff, like playing video games. I’ve been treating my daily to-do list kind of like that: to get them done as quickly as possible so I can relax.

But that’s the thing: I can’t relax. There is no leisure to be found when knowing that the very next day - after a wonderful night of sleep - I have to do it all over again. So I end up chasing this phantom that never arrives. Sure, I am getting things done - but to what end? If all of this is what I want to do, why can’t I seem to achieve this promised peace of mind?

What I need to avoid is speed-running through life. The only thing waiting at the end, is death. I have to slow all the way down. Don’t walk so fast to get to work. Take my time and allow in the magic of the walk itself.

That’s what I am working on these days: slowing the F down.

Already great and wonderful

My aunt and uncle are moving to a new apartment soon. For the first time in nearly three decades, they will have a proper living room (proper, as the British like to say). And a living room deserves the single best furniture in a home that isn’t the bed: a super comfortable couch.

Is there a better feeling than plopping down on a couch after a long day at work? I don’t think so. Even in this tiny studio apartment of mine, I bought a chaise lounger because the relaxation of laying down is that important to me. As much as I prefer the Japanese aesthetic of limited furniture and floor-based seating, the West got it correct: a large couch is where it is at.

This sort of comfort used to be the domain of kings and aristocracy. Nowadays, any common man can afford a couch with bit of saving. Perhaps it’s incorrect to compare timelines this far apart, but truly, the middle class of today live a life better than monarchs of old. Emperors of China wouldn’t even be able to comprehend luxuries like flushing toilets, and on-demand hot water. He did have a comfy dragon throne to sit on, though…

I think these sort of comparisons are an important exercise to keep us in perspective. Sure it may be worthwhile to keep chasing the better next, but what we already have - the most basic of modern living standards like regularly scheduled garbage disposal - is pretty great and wonderful.

Pay our respects

In Chinese culture, it is the season of Ching Ming. April 5th of every year signals the time to pay respects to ancestors at their respective grave sites. Because the actual date can land on a weekday, people tend go during the weekends immediate, before, or after.

I’ve been told the proper way to do Ching Ming is go to the cemetery in the morning. The tombstones get cleaned, and so does the area surrounding. Family members then pay respects with three sticks of incense and three bows. Fake paper money gets burned, so ancestors in the afterlife will have money to use. (These days you can even burn paper houses and paper iPhones.) Various food items are laid in front of the tombstone as offerings, and rice wine is poured onto the ground.

After the ceremony, you have a meal with your (living) family members.

2024 is the first year I get to pay respects to both of my maternal grandparents. Thankfully, they wasted a ton of money for plots at the nearby Cypress Lawn cemetery (my own parents, instead of spending money for holes in the ground, will elect to have their ashes spread), so Ching Ming for me is a mere 10 minute drive away. The festival in China - where my dad’s side of the family resides - is comparatively more arduous logistically: the ancestral grounds are a two hour drive from Guangzhou.

Of which I am looking forward to next year, as I will be flying to China for Ching Ming 2025. I’ve never perform the rites (as an adult) for my paternal grandparents, so it’s time to check off that box.

Ask any car enthusiast again

Another horror story I ran into on the r/cars subreddit is this story of a Subaru dealership messing with a customer’s WRX. Allegedly, a service tech took this guy’s WRX out to learn how to drive a manual transmission. As one would expect, some mechanically destructive stuff ensued. They even washed the WRX, after the customer specifically asked the dealership not to. It’s a complete violation of the trust between customer and business. Next to having your car stolen, this is another worst nightmare as car enthusiast.

This story brings up a good reminder: very few people know how to drive a stick-shift these days, especially the younger generation. Think about the age group of the minimum-wage dealership porters tasked with moving cars. Do you really expect some young thing in his 20s to know how to operate manual transmission? And I don’t even put the blame on him! Stick-shift cars are so relatively rare that the opportunities to learn are difficult to come by.

Owners of a cars with a manual gearbox have a conundrum, then: can you trust a dealership to have someone capable of moving it around properly? We’re not even talking about the actual servicing!

It depends on the brand, too. I have trust in a Porsche dealership, because manual Porsches are high-dollar sports cars. The dealers are used to shuffling around expensive metal. A Honda dealership I would be highly anxious about taking a Civic Type R in for servicing. Not only is it likely the only manual transmission car the service department sees all year, but the rare Type R stands out so specially that some young technician might be enticed to take it out for a joy ride.

Solution? I wouldn’t buy another stick-shift sports car in the future without the capability and space to service it myself. (My current BMW M2 is a dual-clutch automatic.)

Never eat alone

After my Wednesday evening workout session, I typical go to the local Chipotle for sustenance. There’s no better way to get the big three macros (carbs, protein, and fats) covered than a Chipotle burrito bowl. I’m fairly convinced one can properly bulk up feeding on that alone. Best of all, and the whole point of going there in the first place: I don’t have to cook after a strenuous workout.

But that post-exercise meal plan is changing. California’s new minimum wage law for fast food workers - a luxurious (sarcasm) $20 an hour - went into effect on April 1st. In response, franchises with over 60 stores nationwide (that would be most of the fast food chains we know and frequent) have raised menu prices. You didn’t think they were going just absorb the increase in labor cost, did you? Profit margins are too holy for that.

The price for the burrito bowl I usually get at Chipotle went up about $0.75. That may seem trivial, but fast food costs have already ballooned in recent years due to the pandemic supply chain and inflation. The latest increase is the straw that is breaking my camel’s back. After working out this evening, I cooked at home instead. $15 for a burrito bowl is so not Raven.

While I am happy for the fast food workers getting a raise, I just won’t be the one supplying those dollars. In fact, eating out has become so expensive that I am implementing a new personal rule: no more outside food unless I’m with others. The social aspect is definitely worth paying for. Otherwise, like the McDonald’s meme goes: we have food at home.