You Can Observe A Lot Just By Watching

It was exactly two months ago today, July 2, that I arrived here in California to take possession of my apartment in Larkspur. I started packing up my boxes for this latest move the first week of June, and have been basically living from cardboard containers ever since…until last weekend, that is. I have finally unpacked the last of my things, put the artwork up on the walls, and reorganized my rented storage area. And I’ve had the apartment thoroughly cleaned by my new housekeeper for the first time. As of now, I’m officially “moved-in.”

I would like to say that I’m “settled” (as in: “Jim, are you all settled in yet?”), but that’s not really the case. There has been too much stress associated with moving to a different state and taking on a new, high-stress job to (in all honesty) say that I’m settled. But, being unpacked and moved in feels like good progress along that path, I must admit.

To be “settled,” I think I need a little more time to adjust culturally. The change I’m experiencing by moving from an ultra-conservative, economically-depressed community in southern Oregon to a liberal county with the highest per-capita income in the U.S. has been mind-blowing, to say the least.

And that’s not to say I’m not enjoying it here. Because I am. Believe me, living in a place that is on the liberal cutting-edge is quite refreshing. What an incredible relief that I’ve found my way here!

But I experience a good deal of preoccupation, and some degree of angst, about how different this place is, too. For one, I am continually reminded of the high cost of living: everything costs more here, and sometimes it’s way more expensive. Just this morning I went to the nearest car wash, for example, and paid $19.99 for the most basic service they offer. In Eugene, at what I think is the most pricey car wash in the city, the cost is less than half of what I just coughed up today.

And, of course, it’s the first of the month and I just wrote out another rent check. It’s a good thing I finally received a full-month’s pay: my rent is roughly two and a half times of what it was last year. Really, I can’t think of one thing that costs less here.

Additionally, one of the most interesting things that has been on my mind in the last few weeks, as I’ve been looking around trying to pay attention to my surroundings, is my perception that the residents of Marin County are a considerably better-looking lot than I’ve been around in recent times. I started out by noticing the much larger number of people sporting sun tans than are evident in rainy, cloudy, cooler Oregon. And then, as I kept reminding myself that “you can observe a lot just by watching,” I noticed that it wasn’t only the tans, it’s that people seem to look more attractive, more together, and just plain healthier here. For example, it’s my perception that there are significantly fewer obese folks around me now than there have been during the last few years.

So, it was with great interest that last Thursday I came across an MSNBC article that suggests ZIP codes are surprisingly accurate predictors of obesity. As I was able to learn, “in a study published in the September issue of the journal Social Science & Medicine, University of Washington researchers found that adults living in ZIP codes with the highest property values were the slimmest, and those living in ZIP codes with the lowest property values were the fattest.” The data presented in this study are entirely consistent with my informal, non-scientific observations of Marin County residents. With property values here that are literally off-the-charts, according to the UW research people here should be slim(mer). And they are.

My one last observation (for today, anyway) about the culture here is that the attitudes of Marin County residents tend toward elitism, entitlement & privilege. My opinion is that these Mariners know they live in an enchanted place among the rich and beautiful…and somehow these conditions give them a rather special place in society. It’s not really anything specific that anybody says…it’s just that the sense of entitlement here is palpable.

I imagine that once I’m more accepting (i.e., less judgmental) of the cultural values I’m discovering, then I’ll consider myself more “settled.”

Off The Beaten Path

Yesterday I took a little road trip. No, I didn’t have another enzyme bath. (The next one is currently being planned, but it’s not on the calendar yet.) This time I visited the western part of Marin County. I needed to travel to Bolinas for a short meeting at the College of Marin Marine Biology Lab…a rather ancient facility owned by my current employer.

Yes, this time Saturday was a workday. At least I got to see the ocean for the first time in a long time, though.

I had been told that Bolinas is quite the little community. One of the elements of the town’s culture is its isolationist tendencies. Residents mostly just want to be left alone, and they like being off the beaten path. Everyone I talked to, when I mentioned that I was going to Bolinas, informed me that people from the town regularly tear down the road sign on Highway 1 that points would-be visitors to their little burg. Indeed, yesterday when I took the turn-off, I noticed there was a post but no sign. (Luckily, I had a co-pilot, as well as a navigation system, that knew the way there.)

I also learned that the San Andreas Fault runs the length of the Bolinas Lagoon, just a thousand feet from where I stood on Wharf Road. It’s prime earthquake territory, as is just about everywhere I am these days. (I just try to not think about that too much!)

The photo at the top of this entry shows an informal, mid-Saturday-morning gathering of Bolinas residents on the dock owned by the College.

COM Welcomes New Dean

NEWS RELEASE

Contact: Cathy Summa-Wolfe, College of Marin, 415-485-9528, cathy.summawolfe@marin.edu

COM Welcomes Jim Arnold, New Dean of Math & Sciences

KENTFIELD, CA-July 31, 2007-College of Marin announced today the appointment of James “Jim” Arnold, Ph.D., to the position of Dean of Math & Sciences, a post that includes the responsibility of five academic departments and Physical Education and Athletics.

“We are delighted to have Dr. Arnold join our team,” said Frances L. White, Ph.D., COM Superintendent/President. “He brings with him the necessary talent, enthusiasm, and experience to take our Math & Sciences Program, which is already excellent, to the next level.”

“From the minute I read the position description and saw the wide range of academic disciplines involved, I felt College of Marin would be a wonderful fit,” Arnold said. “I have a long history of being able to bring groups of individuals together and to communicate effectively with many different interests.”

As head of Math and Sciences, Arnold is responsible for the Departments of Mathematics, Life and Earth Sciences, Physical Sciences, Social Sciences, Behavioral Sciences and Physical Education and Athletics. Erik Dunmire, a chemistry professor who served as the interim dean, will return to his teaching post after a sabbatical.

Arnold comes to the campus with 12 years of administrative experience in the community college environment, primarily at the Oregon University System Chancellor’s Office where he worked in the Academic Affairs Division as the primary liaison between universities and community colleges in that state. Most recently, he held appointments at Mt. Hood Community College as Dean of Science & Technology and at Umpqua Community College as Dean of Math, Science & Liberal Arts.

Prior to his life in the community college world, however, he enjoyed several other careers including chemist, photographer, counselor, teacher and consultant. Arnold earned a Bachelor of Science degree in chemistry from the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire and a Master of Science degree in chemistry from Oregon State University. He worked as a chemist before switching to a career in photography and then returning to school to earn a second master’s degree in counseling from Oregon State University. He was a counselor and trainer in a job-training/social-service agency and directed a student support services program in the student affairs division at a small regional university campus in Oregon. After a couple of years back in higher education, he pursued a doctorate in higher education administration at Indiana University.

In addition to overseeing academics, Arnold will be involved with the construction of the new science/math/central plant complex at the Kentfield campus.

Osmosis

Osmosis ( äz-mō'-sĕs ).

Function: noun.

Etymology: New Latin, short for endosmosis.

1: movement of a solvent (as water) through a semipermeable membrane (as of a living cell) into a solution of higher solute concentration that tends to equalize the concentrations of solute on the two sides of the membrane.

2: a process of absorption or diffusion suggestive of the flow of osmotic action; especially : a usually effortless often unconscious assimilation <learned a number of languages by osmosis — Roger Kimball>.

I started out my academic life as a chemist, so the term “osmosis” (defined above) is not entirely unfamiliar to me. I can just bet you’re wondering, though, what it is I’m going to say in a blog entry on this topic!

Well, as you likely surmised, I’m not going to be talking about that kind of osmosis, but rather “Osmosis” as it applies to steps along my path toward personal health and well-being…

This story starts with my search, last winter, for alternative health care in Roseburg, Oregon, as my fibromyalgia symptoms were becoming more and more problematic (and as western medicine continued to come up short in its ability to help me). The miracle-worker medicine woman I found there locally was trained in a variety of traditions, including massage therapy, Traditional Chinese Medicine, and craniosacral therapy. And, as it turned out, her massage therapy education also included time within the Lauren Berry Method of bodywork. Her unique skill set led to a miracle turnaround for me, bringing me “back from the brink” (as we came to characterize it).

When I moved from Roseburg to Larkspur, I needed to find someone else (or, more likely, other people) in the Bay Area to tend to my alternative health-care needs. I immediately sought out such providers after arriving here, and through a series of cross-referrals I was led to a bodywork person in Novato, CA, who is also trained in the Lauren Berry Method; so far I’ve had two sessions with her. During my first visit, she recommended that I seek out a unique enzyme-bath treatment available up in Sonoma County, at the Osmosis Spa.

Now, I had never heard of an enzyme bath, so I was curious to learn more. I found out (from their brochure and web site) that this enzymatic process stems from a centuries-old Japanese tradition of harvesting fruits, vegetables, herbs, mushrooms, seaweed and other life forms when they are at their peak and preserving them with saccharides. Then, during the (what is a dry-) bath experience itself, large wooden bath tubs are filled with finely ground cedar, rice bran, and these plant enzymes. This mixture heats up naturally, by fermentation, creating a biologically-generated warmth. The “bath” is an experience of being entirely (your whole body) covered up with this (slightly moist) mixture, up to the chin…much like being “buried alive” in sand at the beach.

This all sounded pretty mysterious to me, but I also read that the reported benefits of this treatment include: relief from joint and muscle aches and pains; reduced tension and fatigue; cleansing of the skin; stress reduction & calming of the nerves; improved digestion; detoxification; and improved circulation & mobility. Without a doubt, a pretty impressive list of possible outcomes! All of which I could definitely use.

I decided to give this approach a try, and after exploring the Osmosis website thoroughly, I made a reservation online for last Friday (the last day the college was closed on Fridays for the summer).

So, mid-morning I drove the hour or so up to Freestone, California, my trusty GPS guiding me all the way. I arrived a little early (of course!), and was greeted courteously at the front desk with a cup of tea and the information that I had about 12 minutes to wait before I started the process. A little bit later an attractive, smiling young woman called my name and led me through the sliding doors, while commenting favorably on the John Lennon t-shirt I had worn for the occasion.

I was shown to the men’s dressing room, relayed instructions about finding a robe, and told where to meet my personal bath attendant when I was ready. After changing and being seated in (what they call) the Japanese tea garden for a few minutes, “V” (my personal attendant, a very pleasant, articulate and well-informed young woman) arrived and we exchanged first names. First, she served me a tea mixed with enzymes made from more than 25 different organically grown plants. As she explained, the tea is a digestive aid, and works in conjunction the metabolic processes that occur during the bath. V then outlined the entire bathing process for me so that I would know what to expect. I had informed her that this was my first visit and that I was totally clueless!

Now, the literature about the bath process indicates that the bath may be done with, or without, a bathing suit (that is, nude. Yikes!). I had changed into a swim suit and was so attired underneath my robe. Of course, my in-bred Midwest Modesty was obviously in play here, and believed I might be a little hesitant to do the bath Full Monty in the presence of a young, female, total stranger. When she asked if I had any questions, I brought up this topic, wondering if I should do this with or without the suit. She very tactfully handled the topic, and explained that the more surface area of skin exposed to the enzymes, likely the greater the benefit. She then entirely left the decision to me, depending on my comfort level.

Well, I decided that it was rather ridiculous to let my old-guy conservative-Midwest reservations get in the way, especially after paying all this much money for a new adventure; after I was led into the (private) bath room, I shed both my robe and bathing suit and entered the scooped-out place in the center of the tub totally stitchless. (And totally California, don’t you think?!)

After getting situated and comfortable in the bed of organic materials, V covered me up with huge handfuls of the mixture from the sides of the tub. As it turned out, the nudity thing turned out to be a total non-issue. I was mildly warm right at the beginning, but quickly became more heated as the minutes ticked by. V left the room for a bit, then re-entered with cold towels for my face and neck, as well as water to sip (through a straw). The twenty minutes went by incredibly quickly, and I suspect I entered some type of mildly-altered state for a portion of the time. At any rate, V took excellent care of me, leaving and then re-entering a couple of times, and before I knew it, the time was up and I was out of the tub, outside the room (outdoors), having my back brushed off (of the moist sawdust-like mixture) by V. I brushed off my front and then entered my private shower where a towel and my robe were waiting for me on the other side.

I perspired a lot during my time in the tub, but the warmth felt totally wonderful. If it would have been allowable, I could have stayed in that environment much longer (I thought). But, with heat treatments, 20 minutes is the suggested max, and I held to it. As it turns out, even that may have been overdoing it for me, since that night I discovered that I had a significant rash on my backside. The rash is precisely where I have most of my chronic lower-back pain, so that seemed rather coincidental. However, it is probably less so when you take into account the fact that that is the area where I apply various lotions and creams to help ease the spasms in that region. Although I did not apply anything to my body that day, likely there was some kind of enzymatic (or merely heat) reaction with some residual lotion on my skin.

After the bath, I continued on with another option they offer in conjunction with the bath; I had a massage. V left me at the bottom of the stairs, and I ascended to the second floor waiting area until “J” came to fetch me. Now, I’ve had many massages before in my life, so finally I was back on familiar ground. J was very talented – she had very good hands.

After the massage, I changed back into my street clothes and checked out at the front desk. (After waiting for two women who were, for some reason, giving the attendant a difficult time about their scheduled massage appointment…they were very abrupt and rude – quite in contrast to the serene nature of the place.) I was treated very nicely at checkout, though, and offered a cup of tea, with the suggestion I visit the meditation garden (which I did for about 15 minutes or so).

It was a little difficult to face the prospect of driving the hour back home and facing the “real world” again, but here I am. I made it. I’m back at it.

I’m not sure yet what this experience has actually done for me: how much benefit it has actually provided. What I do know is that I have not worn my back brace for the last two days (mostly to avoid the possibility of aggravating the rash), with my lower back feeling quite a bit better than it has in recent times. I would very much like this to continue!

After I recover from the rash, I’m pretty sure I’ll be thinking about how soon I can do the whole thing all over again.

If you’re ever in my neighborhood, for now I’m suggesting you just might want to take in this little bit of California while you’re here.

Stranger In A Strange Land

I was an Oregonian for 32 years, and I know that residents of that state have a longstanding reputation for being independent: for subscribing to the philosophy of rugged individualism, or doing things “ the Oregon Way,” if you will. The Oregon State Motto of “She Flies With Her Own Wings,” seems to reflect the state’s citizens willingness to boldly go where no man has gone before. In 1999 the state adopted as its advertising slogan (and unofficial state motto), the phrase, “Oregon. Things Look Different Here.” Although that saying was replaced, in 2003, by a new unofficial slogan “Oregon. We Love Dreamers,” it’s the “things look different here” mantra that is running through my mind a lot these days.

For now, I’ve moved away from my adoptive state of Oregon, am currently a Californian, and, well, things are different here.

For example, take the matter of registering a vehicle with the state in order to be issued California license plates.

As you know, I purchased a new Subaru before leaving Oregon. I was living and working in Oregon at the time: ergo, I was a resident there when I purchased the vehicle. Of course, that means I paid no sales tax on the purchase because Oregon does not have such a tax. But, what happens when an individual takes a new sales-tax-free vehicle to California, is that he or she is assessed a “use tax” when registering the vehicle. This fee is in the amount of the applicable California sales tax. (Any sales tax already paid in another state may be credited against the California use tax. Most states have a sales tax. The way I look at it, this seems strictly a way to “get” Oregonians when they move here.) Yesterday I went to the DMV to register my car, and the check I wrote out to get my first set of plates came to $2,334! …and the funny thing is (ha ha), I didn’t even get the actual plates. My official Oregon registration document has not come in the mail yet, so I was unable to surrender it. The best California could do was to give me a temporary registration sticker for my window. So, this is what I got for my money:

California , you really know how to welcome a guy.

Not!

The driver’s license part of the DMV visit was quite an experience as well. Here, a stone’s throw from the Silicon Valley, the high-tech Mecca of the world, they still give paper and pencil tests! I was handed a sheet of paper, 18 questions on each side, and was directed to a testing area where I could mark in little boxes for the multiple-choice exam. Then, after I handed it in, the counter attendant graded it by hand. (Yes, I passed. One wrong. 35/36 = 97%. Obviously, knowing me, you can bet that I was shooting for a perfect score. Sigh…) It was 17 years ago this month, July 1990, when I moved to Indiana and sought to be a licensed driver there. Even back then, at the DMV office in backwater Bloomington, Indiana, I was directed to a kiosk to take a test in a completely automated process.

And, finally, in a stunning conclusion to my visit, even though I had shown my birth certificate, been fingerprinted, had my picture taken, and passed the test, I was given just one little slip of paper to carry around that is now my temporary permit. I asked, “I don’t get my license right now?” To which the reply was, “No. You’re in California. Things are different here. (He actually said that!) You get your license in the mail in about 2 weeks. Maybe 4 or 5. Have a good day.”

Oh, California. Thanks so much for your hospitality. I’m sure feeling good about this.

Finally, as I’m on this stream of how much I’m loving my new state, I’ll let the photo tell the story. Here’s my new office space…

Bottom line? My jaw is perpetually dropping as I continue to find out the way things are done here. Someday, the newness of this will all wear off, I’m sure. I’ll be “settled.” I will have been completely socialized to this part of the country: not only the state of California, but Marin County, California. Until then, I’m going to be walking around feeling, invariably, like a Martian.