Monday, July 23, 2007
Close call...
Although I'm a Westchester native and feel as I belong here in this tony glen, my life here is rather tenuous. The cost of living is high, the housing market is cooling the way lava cools in Hawaii, at high noon, in the middle of summer, during a heat wave, and I really don't feel as if fit in with the group of friends I thought I had. I suppose lots of Westchesterites feel this way, at least those not pulling in millions per year as Wall Street drones or soap actors. Keeping one's economic position is the heart of the middle class experience, with aspirations for the upper class and fear of the lower class, all the while not realizing the lower and middle class are much more similar than the middle to upper class. Why? It's not about how much money you make, but how you make your money. The middle and lower class work, either for someone else or for themselves, while the rich have others work for them or earn their money passively via real estate, bonds, dividends, etc. Education isn't a panacea either, with the degree merely promising you better paying work rather than a ticket to wealth. Only those who study law or medicine really transcend this truism, with the value of their degrees earning possible entry into the elite.
Tim Ferriss, author of the "4 hour work week," does a much better job of describing the above, so I'll simply quote him: "This book is not for people who want to run companies, but for people who want to OWN companies." The emphasis is (mostly) mine. Even if the companies he for which he lays the groundwork don't end up as the next Microsoft, the structure is turnkey and should operate without you. This allows to run amok and have fun; thus, income aside, you are in effect "rich," albeit in time more than money. Once you have control over your time, you find the money you have stretches much further.
Still, living in Westchester isn't all about money. It's also about finding your own places and friends. This is what makes an area a home rather than just a place. Miami Beach was my home for a short while, with funky coffee shops and cute little restaurants on Lincoln Road and my cadre of buddies. The places and character are gone now, and I can't really call the place a potential home any longer. The major shortcoming in Miami was (and I say this without sarcasm or irony...) was the radio. Essentially there was no station for me (i.e. my demographic...) and the only station I liked was The Coast, an A/C format that was surprisingly good; there was something undeniably mellow about the station. Still, my jones for '80's music and rock and roll generally went unfilled, although there were brief high points.
Radio in NYC is more diverse, with the huge population supporting any type of radio format. WPLJ is probably my favorite station. As I get older and new music leaves me cold, 'PLJ keeps the juices flowing. I listen to others, of course, one of which is 107.1 the Peak.
The Peak is the epitome of local small town radio, playing "World Class Rock," and although I don't like all the music on their list, I was always happy the station existed. I identified with the station. It was made for people like me who love both popular and obscure rock music. While the station has only 130,000 listeners in the area, the station survives. So long as it broadcasts, I feel a little more like I belong here in Westchester. I've always feared for the station's success, so imagine my horror when I tuned in and suddenly listed to static. My heart sank at the thought of the station getting tossed, but it was the inevitability of the fact that struck me. It was just another shove out the door and the tipping point is close to being reached. I was sad, and I felt like I lost something important, like the death of a friend. I blamed myself; since the listener base is so small, I felt I didn't listen enough. I finally got to the office, and called the station. Evidently there was a technical glitch and they'll be back on the air tomorrow. Phew... As proof of my theory this is a station made for me, I hopped on-line and tuned in via the 'Net. The "10 at 10" featured music for 1992 this morning, and I liked everything they played, even owning one of the songs on my Ipod. It was a serious relief to listen to my local radio station, and I am happier than a rational person should be. Close call? Oh yeah...
Tim Ferriss, author of the "4 hour work week," does a much better job of describing the above, so I'll simply quote him: "This book is not for people who want to run companies, but for people who want to OWN companies." The emphasis is (mostly) mine. Even if the companies he for which he lays the groundwork don't end up as the next Microsoft, the structure is turnkey and should operate without you. This allows to run amok and have fun; thus, income aside, you are in effect "rich," albeit in time more than money. Once you have control over your time, you find the money you have stretches much further.
Still, living in Westchester isn't all about money. It's also about finding your own places and friends. This is what makes an area a home rather than just a place. Miami Beach was my home for a short while, with funky coffee shops and cute little restaurants on Lincoln Road and my cadre of buddies. The places and character are gone now, and I can't really call the place a potential home any longer. The major shortcoming in Miami was (and I say this without sarcasm or irony...) was the radio. Essentially there was no station for me (i.e. my demographic...) and the only station I liked was The Coast, an A/C format that was surprisingly good; there was something undeniably mellow about the station. Still, my jones for '80's music and rock and roll generally went unfilled, although there were brief high points.
Radio in NYC is more diverse, with the huge population supporting any type of radio format. WPLJ is probably my favorite station. As I get older and new music leaves me cold, 'PLJ keeps the juices flowing. I listen to others, of course, one of which is 107.1 the Peak.
The Peak is the epitome of local small town radio, playing "World Class Rock," and although I don't like all the music on their list, I was always happy the station existed. I identified with the station. It was made for people like me who love both popular and obscure rock music. While the station has only 130,000 listeners in the area, the station survives. So long as it broadcasts, I feel a little more like I belong here in Westchester. I've always feared for the station's success, so imagine my horror when I tuned in and suddenly listed to static. My heart sank at the thought of the station getting tossed, but it was the inevitability of the fact that struck me. It was just another shove out the door and the tipping point is close to being reached. I was sad, and I felt like I lost something important, like the death of a friend. I blamed myself; since the listener base is so small, I felt I didn't listen enough. I finally got to the office, and called the station. Evidently there was a technical glitch and they'll be back on the air tomorrow. Phew... As proof of my theory this is a station made for me, I hopped on-line and tuned in via the 'Net. The "10 at 10" featured music for 1992 this morning, and I liked everything they played, even owning one of the songs on my Ipod. It was a serious relief to listen to my local radio station, and I am happier than a rational person should be. Close call? Oh yeah...
