A wishlist of key ingredients triumphantly came together making 2016 and 2017 banner years for us. For all intents and purposes, Quinn was in her true prime which beautifully coincided with me being in mine. Now obviously I was well beyond my plausible heyday, but I was earning the most elaborate and lucrative jobs of my quasi career which I knew counted for something. Plus I was making it look easy.
And speaking to prime. Despite being classified as a 2 year old in the May 2015 Craigslist ad, I ultimately found out that Quinn was born in July of 2011. Thus when I took over her reigns, she wasn’t a 2 year old after all, rather a couple months shy of becoming a 4 year old. So as I embarked on my 15th and 16th year of doing what I do to earn a living, I did so with a dialed-in cattle dog that was executing her sidekick role to perfection.
Of the key ingredients, it was definitely our work that had to be considered the most key. According to my precious black book, Quinn and I six-legged 71, count em, 71 different work projects between January 2016 and October 2017. Some jobs were small, others medium-sized, and a handful were quite large. A small job meant anywhere from two hours to two days on a job site. The medium sized, bread & butter jobs lasted about a week. And every year without fail, there seemed to be at least one project that lasted a month maybe more.
Entering the 2016 work season was when I first popularized Quinn on my business website. As it turned out, a picture of her seemed to set the right kind of tone in addition to speaking volumes about me and my company. By mid 2016 there were probably 25 photos of her on the website. One photo in particular, fast asleep at the foot of a 32 foot extension ladder as though she were spotting someone, that one drew a lot of attention. I played to the narrative that Quinn was an indispensable cog in this custom wheel of ours.
With the abundance of work during this time, boy was I glad to have the RV. It too was key. The glue that held all our moving parts together. Overall, I would say that the best dimension about the RV era, and there were many, but the best measure was its juxtaposition to our everyday.
Our coveted spot was off the Morrissey Street exit. From a convenience standpoint, I had four taquerias, a bagel cafe, a health food store, a yoga studio, a legendary donut shop, a thrift store, a brew pub, a Whole Foods, and so much more. And speaking of convenience, when the streets in our parish were just how we needed them to be, Quinn and I had a perfectly flat asphalt playground that we made our own.
If it were in the morning, it was 5am. If it were the evening, more like 10pm. On more than 100 occasions it was both morning and evening. On less than 25 occasions it was neither. I’m talking about man and dog taking over streets. Calm, calculated and cautious. I used a simple town bike, and for the most part, she stayed tight on my left, in-line with the rear bicycle wheel.
The midtown Santa Cruz block is a far cry from a New York City block. More like half a City block. Varying our course was easy as pie. Most of the time we’d just figure eight our way around without any rhyme or reason. More often than not, we’d zig-zag our way to Rod & Ros gas station and mini mart because they always kept a fancy supply of flavored dog snacks for Quinn, and red licorice for me.
1.7 miles away was my club. Had to have the club, and not because of its gym. In fact, I never even stepped one foot into the beautiful gym portion of this club. And club isn’t even the accurate definition. Spa and fitness center was more like it. A spa and fitness center that was part of a luxury hotel. Quinn and I could be found at The Chaminade Hotel & Spa twice per day, seven days per week. We usually arrived at 6am and stayed for about 90 minutes. We’d return around 6pm for more of the same.
They offered complimentary coffee, and it was good coffee. They kept the bathroom and shower area immaculately clean which I liked. Remember, the general facilities were as important to me as anything else at the club because the zero/zero had neither. There was a nice swimming pool that I used on occasion, a private outdoor hot tub that sure came in handy, and the standard sauna and steam to boot.
Without the club, I would have had to rethink RV life and the method by which I was existing. With the club, we were seriously on top of the world. Of the 180 minutes worth of time that we seemed to spend everyday within the confines of The Chaminade Hotel and Spa, 120 of those minutes were used pampering myself, while the other 60 were spent with Quinn. You see The Chaminade also had a well kept grassy area where she and I logged a ton of together time doing our thing. A small group of members dubbed it Quinn’s Lawn.
These were also the yoga years. Lots and lots of yogurt. The asana onslaught actually began in late 2015. It didn’t take long for this humbling practice to begin unveiling its positive, soothing affect on me. Because the studio was just around the corner from the RV, and because there were numerous classes throughout the day, it was convenient enough to find my way to the mat. Flow was most important. And finding flow was never a pushover because I was typically very worn out with the physicality of my work. It was helpful that I could pick a time that fit into that workday, drop Quinn off at the RV, and ride my bicycle to the studio. Being the boss comes with an assortment of perks.
Yoga became so gratifying that I invested a chunk of time and money into a 200 hour Yoga Teacher Training course that began in October 2016. A small group of 15 of us met every other weekend for twelve weekends. Even with the RV in the nice backyard, I was never happy about leaving Quinn for ten hours at a time, especially back to back days. So from the second weekend gathering moving forward, and with permission of course, Dog came with. Namaste.