• StickmanVentures.com - After about a month, I finally got around to launching the much more content rich and feature ready Stickman Ventures site.  For those of you who are unaware, Stickman Ventures is part of my ongoing work in starting up niche targeted business ventures with Gareth Coen and my brother James.  Along with that we’ve added an investment arm and have partnered with several firms to help offer more value to our corporate clients, startup or not.
• JustinandMonica.com - On the other end of the spectrum we have Monica and I’s wedding site.  With the date set and invitations in the mail, we setup this site a clearinghouse of useful information.  I also built a different type of registry with Google Checkout for our planned honeymoon trip to Tahiti.  We’re planning on having one hell’ve of a party, so pictures from said event will also make it on to the site post haste.

In addition to these two site launches, I have three other site launches in the works over the next three weeks.  It’s going to be a busy time but will be a lot of fun as well.

In other updates:

• The speculation is true, I’ve dropped 25 pounds in the last four weeks.  After a rough 2007 which took its toll on my health, I decided that I wanted to get back to match fitness (in football/soccer speak, that means get back to game ready state) and have been working on it over the last month.  I’ve largely based my diet on Tim Ferris’ model, and added in training to increase muscle.  I’m using Wii Fit to track progress on a daily basis.  Those who knew me as an undergrad in Seattle are probably remembering this is not the first time I’ve experimented on my health.  Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.
• Monica and I have dove head first into gecko genetics as we tackle a new breeding project.  We’ve already added a third gecko (a bell albino) to go with our patternless and Monica’s favorite of the last six years, Icarus, a giant gecko by chance she raised early on.  A fourth is just around the corner, and I’m writing software to help track the gene combination’s and results.  Given Monica’s experience in biology (she was a project biologist), I suspect it’ll be an interesting experiment to say the least.  Genetics is just interesting.
• Monica and I recently took our engagement photographs with Tammy Hughes, who I just can’t speak highly enough of.  Her use of natural light is fantastic and her prints look spectacular.  I have a great deal of respect for her work.  She’ll be shooting at our wedding in October.  In the mean time, you can check out her website.
• My buddy Joe Kiernan is running a marathon to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.  I’ve worked with Joe and he’s a great guy and it’s a great cause.  Get over there and donate some money; it’s a tax deduction to boot.
• For those who were in the Riverbank High Class of 1998, our reunion is taking place on September 20th.  I’m not sure if I’ll be able to attend, but if you were part of the class and are looking for information, head on over to the MySpace page for ticket information.  If you get a chance, thank Sonia who has put a lot of work in to make it happen.

That’s the all the highlights and updates!

Why the switch? As a Palm OS user since 2000, I was well acquainted with the Palm platform.  I had invested heavily in the commercial applications over the years, even going so far as doing some development many years ago.  I had used three devices (Palm V, Palm m515, Palm Treo 650, all of which I still own) with great success.  The Treo 650 had been my standby for over three years, and it functioned great in the field.

Yet Blazer, the internet browser in the Palm OS, offered limited functionality and was never fully stable for me.  Opera Mini was a nice addition, but the Java virtual machine on the Palm OS was slow and cumbersome and Opera’s responsiveness suffered.  I missed not having WiFi and with no SD card driver options (the hacks were not stable in use) I was left high and dry. Web apps had always been an important to me, but now I found myself needing them beyond what the Treo could deliver.  The latest Palm offering left much to be desired.  Looking for an alternative, I turned to the iPhone.

The original offering of the iPhone did not win me over; with basically no SDK (software development kit) I wasn’t going to be able to extend it myself (unless through web apps) and others wouldn’t be able to provide the applications I would need.  When the jailbreak of the phone happened, my interest was again rekindled.  With the announcement of an SDK, I figured I’d be on board with whatever the next version was.  That turned out to be the iPhone3G.

About a week after launch I purchased one.  The in store activation requirement was frankly ridiculous, though it only took me 15 minutes at the most.  My thoughts on such a policy is that it has only made it harder on both store employees and consumers looking to buy and hasn’t made people like AT&T any better.

The iPhone itself is quite nice to handle.  It’s sleak, polished, and has a gorgeous screen and fonts.  The touch screen is easy to handle, and the controls are straight forward.  With iPhone nearby, the Treo looks dated in it’s design (then again, my Treo looks dated compared to a Palm V as well, so take that with a grain of salt).

The one thing that I thought I would dislike about the move is the on-screen virtual keyboard.  Having moved from graffiti (does anyone remember it?) to the the Treo’s keyboard I remember it took some getting used to, but I grew to like the feel of the keyboard.  I thought this would be no different and after a few days, I’ve found typing on the virtual keyboard quite easy.  My biggest complaint is lag; randomly applications and some web forms have considerable lag between key press and display and it’s absolutely brutal.  SMS seems to be the worst case.

Speaking of SMS, the app lacks polish.  The SMS app in the Treo is better in my opinion, offering character count and MMS support inline.  While I’m not big on MMS and don’t miss this feature, I miss the character count.  A simple list format option as opposed to conversation mode would be nice, as well as filters to simply see sent messages.  For me SMS is not a deal breaker, but it could stand some feature enhancements.

The other apps that come standard on the iPhone (contacts, mail, calendar) offer basic functionality I would put on par with the standard Palm OS offerings.  The contacts annoy me because you can’t set a default group (it always reverts to Show All), and switching groups (sort of like categories in the Palm) takes too long.  I could do for a simply dropdown list or filter option on the search.

I’m not holding Apple fully responsible given that I used a number of apps on Palm to handle my extended needs.  These included DateBK5, AddressXT, and Snappermail, all which offered extended functionality over their bundled counterparts.  My assumption is that developers will (much as everyone did on Palm) extend the iPhone OS with enhancements as time goes on.

There in lies the problem for my use of the iPhone for daily business: it doesn’t currently offer the types of applications I use to get work done.  The App store is nice and it has some slick applications, but in terms of productivity I need things like Docs to Go (sometimes I need to edit some numbers, not just view) and ACT! which at the moment the iPhone doesn’t have counterparts to.

What the iPhone may lack in applications, it does not lack on web functionality.  I’ve been progressively moving to web based applications, running apps like Google Apps for Domains, Remember The Milk, and a lot of custom self-hosted services.  It is for this reason that the iPhone is going to be my main phone of use.  Using WiFi and receiving calls is a godsend and once Google Docs has edit functionality in it’s mobile version, I’ll be pretty content.

The other reason that I purchased outside of business use is the hacking potentional.  Running the jailbreak which came out a short while after my purchase opened up more possiblities (secure shell (SSH) was a must anyhow, as it sees daily use on my Treo).  I’m already working on a USB hardware hack, and I have plans to write some software as well.

Overall, I think the iPhone is amazing even given the transitional pains I’ve had moving to it.  As more applications become available and when they add cut and paste functionality, I’ll be certain I’ll be able to leave the Treo behind.  I’ll just have to be patient.

In the era where MySpace, SMS, and cell phone cameras rule the world, there is the often forgotten film camera at many a garage and estate sale.  People often pass them by without much of a glance, some even pick them up and wonder what it does.  The concept of film and non-automatic exposure is alien to most, and even at the cheapest of prices, most people simply pass.

Sometimes the opposite occurs and the camera is priced well above any chance of sale; the Polaroid Land camera is probably our most common find, and about half of the people selling do not want to hear that the camera they want $20 is worth maybe $2.  We should know, we only have 15 at last count.

At all ends of the price scale, in places from basements to barns, you will often find an old camera.  Monica and I look for the rare and unusual, but have no problem walking away with a $3 bakelite 620 film camera that nobody wants.  The reason behind it stems from the social aspect of that old film camera.

While most people would pass at the opportunity to buy an old film camera, given the opportunity and the conditions, they are more than happy to take pictures with one.  We’re found that if you hand someone an old camera, they act like it’s an antique and are almost afraid of it.  While that may very well be the case, my philosophy is that it’s still a camera and it was made to take photographs.  Age or not, lets have some fun with it.

On this thread, Monica and I started handing them to the cell phone camera addicted friends we had who had no concept of shooting film or manual cameras.  We loaded up everything from twin lens reflex style 620 point and shoots to basic 120 box cameras.  It doesn’t take much to opperate one of these cameras, simply press the button or pull the shutter switch, and roll to the next number.  With no LCD to offer immediate satisfaction this experiment could have been the shortest attempt at getting the non-photographer interested in something old, manual, and forgotten.

Instead, something interesting happened: people got into the process and started to like that old film camera in their hands.  People started telling us how much fun it was, and soon enough they were asking for more film on our outings.  Some even wanted to process their own film, which was something we did not expect.

Given the response, we soon let people take the camera of their choice.  Many of them cost us next to nothing, and any old camera in service is okay by us.  We’ve given away everything from plastic 35mm toy cameras to SLR’s.  If they want to develop the film at our place, we let them have at it.  We let people experiment and play, and we all have fun together.  It’s a great atmosphere to be around.

You could argue that the same social aspect exists with digital cameras, that the photo walks that many people organize is along the same idea and that places like Flickr or Photo.net allow people to freely exchange photography ideas.  I find this to be very true, and I often use these places and events to see what creative outlets people are trying.

At the end of the day, the social aspect of old film cameras appeals to my sense of the then and now, the idea of preserving history and having fun doing it not by oneself, but with friends.  I don’t get that feel with digital (yet).  Every new old camera is another learning experience and another opportunity for that age old question at the park, “what kind of camera is that?”

We decided to head in to town to our local custom television and stereo shop to get a quote on some gear, try out some sets before shopping online. I typically don’t get sticker shock; we knew that gear wasn’t going to be cheap, but after explaining our situation and getting an estimated quote of $10-$15,000 to build what we wanted, we left somewhat dejected. It was well outside of our budget and plans

In that price was a custom cabinet to be built into the alcove, which ran anywhere from $2-$4,000. In a gutsy move, Monica went out and bought me a very nice Craftsman circular saw as encouragement to build it myself. My limited experience in cabinetry (none) made me hesitant, but with Monica’s encouragement and my good genetic building genes (my dad can build just about anything) I figured what could possibly go wrong. I threw myself into the task of learning how to build an entertainment center.

I researched online. I read books and magazines on cabinetry. I watched design shows on DIY and HGTV. I talked to people. I quickly came to two conclusions; one, I could build it and two, I was under equipped for the job. I had no router, I didn’t have a fancy table saw, and they all used a nail gun. This was going to require creativity.

After seeing an episode of Wasted Spaces, I liked the idea of building blocks, or boxes. By simply visualizing that the entertainment center was simply a series of boxes, I could build it. Given the odd walls of the alcove (front to back on the left and right corners were different measurements), I decided this would work. My basic plans looked like this:

My design was simple: using 2×4’s and 1/2 inch plywood, I would construct a base made of simple boxes which would then be wrapped in oak to match the existing cabinets in the house. To make it more interesting I decided that I had enough room to create three boxes to house gear that would be the proper dimensions for a 19 inch rack, should I decide to put in mounting strips later. Given the height of these boxes, it worked out to about 11U worth of space.

With the plan now firm, I calculated the amount of wood needed and went shopping. In all, I spent about $250 on the wood and some supplies and went to work.

With the entertainment center coming together, after careful research we decided what and how our system would be built. We decided on the following pieces of hardware:

• Mitsubishi Diamond Series 65″ DLP WD65833 (link)
• Marantz SR5002 A/V Receiver (link)
• (2) SpeakerCraft AIM8 Three (link)
• (2) SpeakCraft AIM Wide Three (link)
• (1) SpeakerCraft AIM LCR Three (link)
• (1) Velodyne DLS-4000R Subwoofer (link)

The sound gear was easy to come by at the local sound shop, and by taking advantage of a couple sales (the center channel, subwoofer, AVR), we were able to get the sound system in it’s entirety for about $3,600 (about $1,500 off the total sticker price).

The television was another story. After seeking out a local shop that sold it, the only place we could find wanted the MSRP of $3,399. California sales tax alone would bring the price up near $3,700, and they wanted a delivery fee of $150. Needless to say, we did not choose this option. Since the cabinet wasn’t finished, we decided to head online to find a reputable outlet to sell and ship.

We turned to Amazon.com. They had several vendors selling the item at over $1,200 off the MSRP with free shipping. This sounded good. We ordered through Amazon.com, expecting the usual series of events to occur. Monica and I had both ordered items from Amazon.com and their never ending list of third party sellers and had never had a problem. That was until this television.

Two canceled orders and three weeks later, there is no television. Amazon.com had failed on a massive level; they lied about the shipping information from one of the vendors (I talked to the vendor and they had received no order) only to cancel the order and not inform us, locked us out of two accounts, and then having the audacity to ask us to order again because “we value your business”. I sent over 30 emails, placed 10 phone calls…you don’t value my business, which you just lost.

We finally ordered the television from OneCall.com, located in Spokane, Washington. Best service ever; they called an hour after the order was submitted, let me know all the details about the shipping, and explained it would be there in three days. When the television arrived via FedEx Freight on time, it was if it hadn’t been touched. Not a dent or scratch. The ShockWatch was intact (impressive, given their sensitivity which Monica and I later tried out). OneCall.com called about an hour after delivery to verify that everything was good. We can’t recommend them enough. With shipping, we paid only $2,200 for the television.

With TV having arrived, what to make of the cabinet? Did encouragement and genetic makeup help overcome my complete lack of experience in wood work? Yes, they did. The base cabinet had come together nicely, and using some struts from the base up to the top shelf which would house the center channel speaker, added support. We used oak baseboard and door trim to finish various edges of the cabinet, which gave it very nice finish.

For the doors, we decided to go with black speaker cloth centers, allowing the subwoofer to be housed to the right of the television. By using 2 inch trim, we cut holes in three 20 inch by 21 inch oak boards to allow the sort of recess type that you would most often see in a frame (1/4 inch all the way around). By creating basically box panels (think painters canvas frame), we stretched the speaker cloth and stapled, and inserted them into the door panels. IR signals from the remotes will actually pass though, though we’ve been using the IR blaster which came with the television.

The rest of the installation was a breeze. The speakers required our original ceiling holes to be cut out slightly more, allowing for the bigger speakers that we had purchased (SpeakerCraft give you a cutting template with each speaker). The hardest part about the speaker install was that they weighed more than expected and took some finesse to get in. The preexisting wiring worked without any issues and configuring the 5.1 surround sound thought the Marantez AVR was a breeze (my brother Jim reconfigured it for optimum sound as well, which was nice).

The Mitsubishi WD65833 comes out the box with pretty good picture quality and color. I reconfigured it using a THX DVD, but otherwise the picture quality is stunning. We’re waiting on adding Blu-ray to the mix, but our Sony 480p DVD gets up converted by the television to 1080p and it looks stunning. HD content using a Dish Network ViP 722 is stellar and watching Euro Cup 2008 has been a treat. You just can’t beat high definition soccer.

Everything in the living room was measured and arranged to optimize the viewing and listening experience. To figure out all the logistics of this scene of musical chairs, I used Carlton Bale’s Home Theater Calculator, an Excel spreadsheet which does a really nice job.

All said and done after wiring everything up, building an entertainment center into the alcove, and configuring the hardware, watching films or playing video games has become an immersing experience. Coming in at a little over $6,000 for everything out the door, we’ve been pleased with the performance of the system and have no plans on changing anything out. I am planning on doing some custom wiring of PS2/3 and Gamecube/Wii control ports, but that’s for a different day.

A couple of weeks go by without even a phone call from anyone. Monica and I proceed to head over to the house, where low and behold we find the house unlocked. We head in to inspect when we find that the house is being shown, nearly four weeks after we had an agreement. Our realtor explains that they’re still taking bids as the house hasn’t been set to pending in the MLS, and that she had requested they remove the lockboxes which the selling realtor did not do. I convinced her to take the key out of the lock box.

Five weeks had passed by, and we were no closer to making this deal reality. After being brushed off by the selling realtor (“you’ll just have to wait, the bank has a glitch”) and our realtor doing nothing (“I can’t talk to the bank, that’s the selling realtors job”), I took matters into my own hands. After digging up which bank owned this house (of which neither realtor would tell me), I contacted Option One Mortgage Corporation. If you’ve never heard of Option One, they’re basically a sub-prime lender formerly owned by H&R Block which lost loads of money and recently sold.

I called Option One. I spoke with one of their reps about the problem and was told that indeed there was a glitch within their system that was preventing the contract from being generated and sent. When I asked them when this would be resolved, the reply was dismal: it’s hit of miss; could be a week or could be a month, they just didn’t know. Undeterred, I asked how I might help resolve the glitch, and was told that the selling realtor should be working with an asset manager to resolve the problem. When I asked who this asset manager was, I was rebuked and told only realtors talk to asset managers. It didn’t matter, I had all the information I needed.

Knowing full well that I needed to talk to an asset manager, I again called the main Option One switchboard, and one by one, went through their directory leaving messages. Eventually I was bound to find someone who could fix this problem. I then dug around on the web and found email addresses, and sent kind emails asking for assistance.

After a day full of phone calls and emails, I sent an email to our realtor explaining that if the selling realtor Ken didn’t get on the ball, so help me I’d close this deal without him and he could kiss his commission goodbye.

Two days later the contract showed up. Coincidence? I think not; executive email blasting and phone calls has been shown to work (see Consumerist). Once we had signed the contract, we told them we needed to close as quickly as possible; both Monica and I had put in our notice with our landlords based on the original close date, and the clock was ticking.

The contract called for an exact amount to be sent to the escrow service in Southern California to kick things off. Again, no problem. Cut check, gave to our realtor to send to escrow along with contract. Called the loan people, said get ready to cash out, send everything over to document department. Everything was rolling.

After the loan paperwork went to their documents department for finalization and sending off to escrow, we received a call asking for verification of income and a letter detailing mismatching addresses on a credit card I had. This severely irked me; this could have been done a months ago. We had offered to provide tax returns, pay stubs, the whole nine yards. They said it wasn’t needed. Even now, they didn’t want those things, they just wanted to talk to the place we worked. After having called our places of work, they asked for no verification of our actual gross pay. I could have given them friends’ phone numbers and they wouldn’t have known the difference. This delayed the paperwork a few days.

Finally after much delay the paperwork just needed to be signed and notarized. I called our realtor to set it up, but she had become worthless at this point. She didn’t know who to call, and although she had the escrows name and number, offered no assistance. She instead points us to a local title company whom is supposedly the agent for the escrow company. Turns out they don’t have the paperwork but are supposed to transfer the title later and offer no assistance.

I get on the phone to the escrow and schedule a mobile notary to bring the paperwork to us for signing. To our amazement, the final wire amount for our down seems heavily inflated. After a call to the escrow, the error is found: they hadn’t received the good faith payment with the original signed counteroffer contract. I call our realtor and sure enough she hadn’t sent it. Needless to say, we were not pleased. I give her the address and tell her it needs to be there tomorrow.

After wiring the remaining money overnight, our side of the deal was complete. All paperwork had been signed, the money in place, insurance setup, and we were good to go. As per the contract, the house was set to close just five days later (five days after the approval of our loan). We begin making preparations to move into the house March 1st, two days after closing. However, the house didn’t close on February 28th. Remember I said the house closed on March 12th? Yes, sure enough the selling realtor and the bank had misplaced the actual title, and could not transfer. You heard that right, they wouldn’t take the loan money or our money. After two days of phone calls to the title company and the bank, nothing had been done; the title company lied to us on several occasions, at which point the escrow service stepped in to resolve the matter.

With the bank in breech of their own contract terms, our realtor and the selling realtor having been completely worthless in the process, the title company basically lying to us, we decided to take matters into our own hands. After verifying that the insurance start date was in fact February 28th we convinced our realtor to give us the key to the house. For those that don’t know, they’re not supposed to give you the key until you close.

First thing we did: changed all the locks. It wasn’t hard; called the locksmith and he didn’t even want proof we owned the house, just the key. He re-keyed all the locks within an hour. As a bonus, he also took the bank and realtor key boxes off the door. Next, we setup all the services. Within a day, every service in the house (water, electric, gas, satellite, phone, internet) was on and in our name. Again, it’s amazing how little you need to prove you actually own or are living at the house; in only one case was I asked to show paperwork, and even then I didn’t show it. I said I had forgotten my escrow docs in the car (which was true) that I’d run out and go get them, and that was all the social engineering it took. No need they said, we believe you.

It was at this point we moved in the weekend of March 1st. I stopped calling the title company and the bank, I stopped calling the realtors and we decided if they want to screw around they could knock yourselves out. We had paid them, and as far as I was concerned we owned the house. I feigned interest via email but I stopped the hard push.

When March 12th rolled around and the house actually closed, we didn’t hear from anyone. Robin the loan officer had told us March 10th that the loan had funded, but it wasn’t until something came in the mail that we knew on March 12th the title was filed.

For those keeping score, from start to finish, it took 65 days to close this deal. The bank was in breech of their own contract by 18 days. The selling realtor didn’t come for the key boxes and the for sale sign until 28 days after closing. We gave them their sign with a storage bill; we told them to go talk to the locksmith for their key boxes. They weren’t happy, but I had a grin on my face.Our realtor pleaded that she was trying hard to get it done, but in reality Monica and I in the end had to do all the heavy lifting.

In summary, we now own the house and are happily building a home. If you take one thing away from this (long) story, make it this: when it comes down to it, do not be afraid to get in the fight and get things done.

After a fair amount of research we knew that prices would continue to fall into 2008, and we decided to bid accordingly. Thought not necessary, we decided to get a pre-approval from Countrywide, our lender of choice. When we came in to ask for the pre-approval, the reps first question summed up the current housing situation: do you have any money to put down? We were putting down no less than 10% no matter what, and with a sigh of relief the rep said “you just made my life easy. ”

With pre-approval in hand, we set out to find a house worthy of a bid. Looking at houses had become somewhat of a problem; while I didn’t want a realtor, it was apparent actually looking at houses was somewhat difficult without one. Monica and I eventually settled on Karen, whom had shown us a few houses she was selling and seemed straightforward and nice.

Trying to sell us both on a house was a tough proposition; I was absolutely brutal on everything, from price and taxes, down to nit-picking a houses’ defects. I drove Monica crazy. We looked at hundreds of houses in November and December, and while that may sound like an exaggeration, I can assure you it is not. The sheer volume of houses on the market was staggering; by my rudimentary calculations, there was over a 12 month supply on the market in the area we were looking at. All of this worked in our favor, and we were going to exploit it.

While we walked away from the first house we bid on after the builder wouldn’t budge on price (too many houses on the market to not give), we found a house in a similar area. It was a foreclosed home, had been on the market for nearly half a year with little interest. The realtor had sent the listing to us a month prior, but I had shrugged it off. The listing did little to sell the house and it was a poor attempt at marketing by the selling realtor. One picture, basic stats, and the words “great buy” in the description. Asking price wasn’t close to going market rate by any indicator and it wasn’t the least bit surprising that they had no bids, let alone lookers.

Upon looking at the house, it was actually quite nice. The house had it share of upgrades, including such things as granite countertops, dark hardwood floor, upgraded carpet, CAT5e wiring throughout and built in surround sound in the living room. With a three car tandem garage and over 2600 square feet of space, it was worth the look.

For it’s strong points, the house had it’s weaknesses. The surround sound was wired, but the speakers had been removed, leaving gapping holes in the ceiling. The house was wired with CAT5e, but wasn’t networked; the main network panel containing networking, phone, and video wiring was a disaster. The backyard was a barren landscape as were a few ceilings, as fixtures appeared to be missing.

Some people would have passed; we saw it as a house that had been barely lived in with some minor problems that could be resolved. There were other families around with young kids, and an elementary school was being planned to be built within walking distance. After some back and forth, we decided it was bidding time.

The price they wanted was high, well above everything else in the market that was comparable. We bid 20% less than asking. It was at this point that things started getting odd.

Our realtor had been in touch with the selling realtor over the weekend to see if there was any interest. He had told her no. On a Monday in January we submitted our bid, only to see the house re-listed at a lower price the same day in an attempt to drum up bids. Not unheard of and we weren’t concerned. The next day, we’re told they have two additional bids that had come out of the blue after no interest; the selling realtor claims the lower price is what magically drummed up interest. We’re skeptical of this claim.

A week went by and the bank reviewed our bid and counter-offered. It was at this point that the push begin. The seller wanted to close quick, by February 15th. Our realtor tried to get us to commit right away, as she told us the other bids were most likely to be considered if we didn’t sign and we might lose the house. This did not sit well with me; if they already had other two other bids then why counteroffer on ours? Monica and I discussed the issue; the counteroffer was good, below even the revised asking pricing they had been trying to drum bids up with, and while not quite 20%, it would suffice.

We called our realtor, told her to tell them yes and to send over the paperwork. We could close by the 15th given our current loan status, and we had cash in waiting. Only thing they had to do was send the paperwork. What proceeded to happen was anything but a smooth transaction.

Monica had named it Fluffy after sometime, as it was noticeable if you happened to catch me in profile. There is sat on my left side like a golf ball on my middle jaw line. It was to the back however, and looking at me straight on you may not have seen it. Trust me, it’s been there for a while.

The tumor wasn’t painful, only a mere annoyance. Monica, along with my folks, urged me to get additional opinions on the matter. The three visits to two doctors had produced various answers, from calcium growth along the jaw line, to fat deposit run amuck. In the beginning these answers sufficed for myself, as it was small. But worry filled my mind and with it’s continued growth, it was time to seek a specialist.

That specialist happened to by Doctor Yates. He was tall and thin with a booming sort of voice that was soothing to hear. He wore a reflecting head mirror that I had only seen in the movies, but later had come to realize was something of the norm in the ear, nose, and throat medical specialty. He worked mostly with children and it showed in his sunny bedside manner. Within minutes of my examination the verdict was in: I had a fairly large tumor in the parotid gland. The question remained what kind of tumor it was.

Shortly thereafter, he preformed a biopsy. It was not as fun as some might think, a slightly painful experience with the added drama of hearing the actual device do it’s work. A biopsy based on a five samples from various parts of the tumor revealed that it was benign, a relief to me and pretty much everyone else. Given that, I thought that I was in the clear, but the doctor was quick to point out that it could become dangerous, and that surgery was needed to have it removed.

A date was set, the procedure explained. I would be having a superficial parotidectomy through retrograde facial nerve dissection, roughly two procedures for the price of, well, two, because no one in the medical world is going to give you a discount. For those very interested, I point you to an article on the subject which is not for the weak of heart as the picture are graphic to say the least.

Needless to say March 17th was an interesting day. Arriving to the hospital at 7am, I was greeted by an endless line of different nurses, of whom I don’t remember most of their names, though I had counted eight of them at one point. Being wheeled into the operating room was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced; a barrage of equipment, lights and personal filled the room. With my arms stretched out on the operating table, I could have sworn I heard the Beach Boys playing in the background as the oxygen mask was placed over my face and I faded to black.

Fast forward two and a half hours later and my surgery was complete. I woke up in a dazed state, hearing people talking but not able to make out the words. After some time I was wheeled to my room where I was met by Monica and my Mom. I felt surprisingly good, but that was more than likely from the pain medication. I looked like a mummy, my head completely wrapped in gauze. Upon the changing of this wrap, the surgery was revealed: stitches and staples closed the wound that started from the top of my ear and went to just about below my chin.

I had fully expected to stay the night as the doctor had said it may be required based on my performance in surgery. Having no knowledge of how I did or if I was worse off now then when I started, but was released later that evening. By the time I had arrived home, it had been 12 hours from start to finish. I was tired, drugged, and looking not my best, but I was tumor free.

I am recovering slowly. I have limited feeling in about half of the left side of my face. I’m up and around, and as of yesterday was told further testing of the tumor proved that it was indeed benign. Many thanks to Monica and my Mom for sticking it out at the hospital, and to all my family and friends who have been supportive.

If this is the first you’ve heard of the surgery, please don’t feel bad; I did not advertise that I was having surgery in the first place, and only know that I know I’m alive and recovering am I really talking about the situation.

I dodged a bullet to say the least. The tumor is gone, Fluffy is on permanent vacation, and I’m on the road to recovery.

For those just joining us, I’ve detailed how I setup the engagement in a previous story, and how I got her to the location in my last story. In this third and final part of the series, I detail how exactly the actual asking of the question went down.

As you may recall from the last story, she was quite shocked to find herself in the lobby of the hotel. As I checked us into the room, I was given the key to room 213. As we walked into the elevator she asked which room we would be staying in. I of course said room 213, failing to mention that we would be staying in one of the suites.

With rain pouring down to our right, we walked past room doors; 210, 211, 212…but no 213. As we came to the end, she asked me if we I had misspoken. But there at the end was a door labeled “Vista Suite.” I said I guess we should just take that one, and opened a door into the private porch area. Deck chairs and potted bambo greeted us warmly and as we reached the door, I could see the surprise begin to come back to her face.

I opened the door to what has to be the nicest place I’ve ever personally stayed. The size of the room was huge, with plush furniture and original art work hanging from the walls. There appeared to be no walls towards the ocean, only glass floor to ceiling. The bed faced the ocean and allowed for spectacular views when the weather was right. Fresh orchids offered a nice center piece.

As she walked in, she was quiet. Her shock seemed to freeze her, as she wandered around the room taking in all that the suite had to offer. She soon exclaimed “it has a spa, did you know it had a spa?” In fact I did and it was one of the key selling points. What better way to relax than by sitting in the jetted spa I had though, and given her already long day trapping rabbits, I though she just might want to use it.

The champagne sat on the table chilled in ice, two glasses near by. The staff had left local chocolates as well, packaged beautifully along with a note welcoming us to the Inn. With rain hammering the winds and waves crashing below us, I popped the champagne and poured us a couple glasses.

As Monica sipped champagne looking over the water, I tended to out bags which had arrived from down stairs. In the side pocket sat the ring, which I had checked numerous times before leaving the house. Given my propensity to forget things at times, the last thing I wanted to do was forget the ring. With ring checked for the fortieth time I got the spa tub up and running, and soon she was relaxing with jets ablaze as I contemplated the question.

Besides being over the water and offering a wonderful view, there was another reason I choose to stay in such a nice room; the weather. If the weather didn’t cooperate, and it would offer a lovely fireplace setting with waves crashing below. As I looked out into the pouring rain from the windows, I knew there was no way we were headed out for the evening. It was happening here, and it was happening sooner rather than later.

As we relaxed from the drive, we decided the weather was simply too horrible to brave, and it wasn’t like the room wasn’t lovely. We decided to order in from one of the fine restaurants in the area (Izzy’s), and the Inn would bring it up in fashionable style. With sun setting I begin my attempt at building a fire in the fireplace. Mine was a laughable effort; the wood was slightly damp from the rain, and the wind was gusting in down the chimney. Much to Monica’s amusement, I had run out of paper and I had to call the front desk for more.

On second attempt, Monica and I packed paper and kindling into the fireplace, and with matches drawn, hers of course lit while mine did not. It was a light hearted moment, as romantic Justin had just been out-romanticized by his soon to be fiancee. We laughed about this, and with fire finally going and dinner having finally arrived, we dimmed the lights and sat down to eat.

Dinner was simply wonderful, as mix of calamari, drunken shrimp and filet mignon. As we conversed about all matter of things, my mind was racing as to when to actually ask the question. This is more than likely why I forget what we actually talked about over dinner. Should I ask over dinner? Would she choke on a shrimp?

In the end, I waited until after dinner. The city lights had begun to show through the fog and rain. As she stared out into the the distant horizon, I had placed the ring in my robe pocket unnoticed. I held her in my arms and asked her if she was having a nice time. She replied that it was beyond anything she could imagine. With fire light filling the room and the waves crashing below, I slipped out the ring from my pocket, and proposed that she was beyond anything I could imagine, that I would like nothing but to spend the rest of my life with her.

I’d like to say that it was smooth delivery, but it probably wasn’t. She’ll be kind and say it was, but I think I probably had a bit of wobble in my voice while I did it. With a bit of luck the ring actually fit on her finger, when I expected it not to. It was the perfect ending to what had been a marathon to get to that final question. Location, ring and question had come together despite weather, jobs, and fatigue to create a magical beginning to our new lives together.

We went to sleep immediately following the proposal. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

The next morning, the storm and fog cleared for a spectacular morning view. We were actually able to use the private deck the suite had to offer, and were greeted with with sailboats and a full view of San Francisco across the water. As we snacked on our morning breakfast and took in the scene, there was a slight hint of happiness in the room. We laughed and kissed and basically made general fools of ourselves in private as we danced around the room.

As we finally packed our bags and left the Inn, we found ourselves leaving in a much different state of mind than when we had arrived. We were engaged to be wed. We had no idea when we getting married. We had no idea what kind of wedding to have. We just knew we were happy. And a week later, we’re still in that happy state of mind. We’re hoping it lasts forever.

I think that’s a pretty safe bet. And you can quote me.

For those just joining us, I’ve detailed how I setup the engagement in my previous story. One might say that was one drawn out lengthy story just to setup the actual “how it all happened” story. What can I say, I’ve become long winded at the advanced age of 27, and by the time I reach 28 in a month I may have forgotten the whole thing. Good to write it down for prosperity. Without further adieu I give the second part of this three part story.

With things in place, I still had to actually pop the question. I actually had to get her to Sausalito without her actually knowing that we were going to Sausalito. To top it off, I had things setup a fair amount in advance and I suck at surprises. Maybe it’s the joy I get seeing people happy, but trying to keep things close to my chest and hidden is like trying to hide a pink elephant in the Prius. Sooner or later, someone’s going to say “Do you still get good gas mileage with that elephant in there?” The deck was stacked against me.

Most people who deal with me on a fairly daily basis have been asking me for the better part of three months when I might pop the question. For the most part, I parlayed these questions with “I’m thinking about it” or “Did you see sporting event XYZ last night?” With the date quickly approaching, my poker face begin to let me down. I know what people are going to say, “Justin your poker face is great.” Thank you, really. But I was dealing with love, and it was busting out of me at the seams. At this point I told a few friends and family I could trust and with every fiber of my being shaking, refrained from telling the location of where it would happen.

It was at this point an invitation arrived from her cousin Stephanie. She was having a apartment warming party in San Francisco the same day and time we were to be checking in at the hotel in Sausalito. This would work to my advantage, as it gave us a reason to head into San Francisco unwarranted. I should note that while my flat is in San Francisco, we pretty much live out towards Modesto, which is roughly and hour and a half away. She works at the CSU Stanislaus as a wildlife biologist, working with endangered riparian brush rabbits.

Her job would end up being an important factor. It just so happens that February 2nd she had to be out doing a census in the morning, trapping at an undisclosed location. Even working with a co-worker, this could take a while, to the point of all day. Not a good omen. Just when I thought the wheels were beginning to fall off, the weather report comes in. Significant storm was heading our way that weekend, which could not only delay her trapping but also make getting to Sausalito a longer trip than usual. This was not good, not good at all.

I had a game time decision to make; delay the whole thing due to the “what ifs” or go for broke. With only a day left I decided it was time to suck it up, weather and schedule be damned and make this thing happen.

As she left work early Saturday morning, I begin the dead sprint towards that night. I cleaned the house to spotless levels; there was no way that house work was going to be on her mind when we got in the car. I had the car cleaned head to toe. I took care of all the animals. I packed bags, loaded that car, and had pretty much everything ready to go.

With a bit of luck, she was done trapping by noon. So far, so good. She came home, I gently rushed her to shower and pack and by one o’clock, we were on the road to Sausalito, yet she had no idea. This was working like clockwork. Then, the weather hit.

The winds gusted, the rain poured. As she slept in the car, I slowly made our way to San Francisco trying to get us there in one piece. Upon making the Bay Bridge, a police officer yelled at me thought a loud speaker to slow down. This I thought was funny given I was driving a Prius, I was doing two miles per hour over the speed limit, and I was getting buzzed on the two left lanes by other cars. This woke Monica, and we cruised into San Francisco as she laughed at me.

I took a very roundabout loop to get to the Golden Gate Bridge. The pouring rain helped in this instance, as she didn’t notice which way were headed until we had nearly reached the bridge. It was at this point she looked at me and said in a inquisitive voice “where are we going?” I don’t think she bought my proceeding rambling story of being lost. At this point, it didn’t matter.

We had crossed the bridge and soon found ourselves in Sausalito. As we looped around and soon pulled into the driveway of the hotel, she looked confused. “Are we getting out?” she said. With the heavens falling, we made it into the lobby. She sort of wandered around a bit, taking in the art and marble floors, and proceeded to ask “Are we staying here?” The look on her face was priceless; she was shocked and surprised all at the same time.

The bell hop would bring our bags to the room, the car was being parked, and as we made our way to the Vista Suite, I marveled in my small but important victory; I had truly surprised her for the first time in my life and gotten her here without her knowing. Would the second surprise be just as good?

This all seems so simple, a question, an answer, happiness abounds. Getting to the actual point of the question and the subsequent set-up was not so easy. It was a calculated choreography of several key factors that had to all come together to make the question as perfect as could possibly be.

Flashback to several months ago. The planning begins in earnest. I had heard all matter of stories pertaining to the asking of the question, and tried to come up with my own spin on the idea. One of the more interesting stories was the gentleman who takes her for a walk on the beach when a diver comes out of the water, cracks open a clam, and low and behold a ring and said question. I heard this from a number of people, and while I did not research the story to it’s truth, I have to say I’d be impressed too. But was that right for me, or rather still, her?

I looked around for romantic places. I toyed with remote locations requiring travel by air and sea. I considered trained monkeys with jet packs. Nothing seemed quite right, though most of my over the top ideas seemed inline with my typically over the top style of doing such romantic gestures.

With my planning of the actual question popping location going nowhere, I switched gears and begin to explore the wonderful world of diamonds and rings. I by no means am a connaisseur of all things sparkly. I traveled from jewelery store to store seeking out something that spoke to me. While a lot of rings talked, I found the sales staff to be just as chatty.

For the most part, the sales staff at most of the stores I visited attempted to be helpful. Most stores had pretty much the same style and selection as other stores, and most of the styles to me personally looked generic. One sales rep went so far as to inform me that if I didn’t pick one of their somewhat standard styles, that my fiancée would probably be disappointed since that’s what the current style is. When I explained that I’d like something more classic, something Art Deco or Art Nouveau style, I was greeted with a blank stare. This was not the jewelry store for me.

According to the growing stack of business cards in my office, I had visited 23 jewelry stores and had come up with nothing. On a whim I decided to visit one more store that fateful Tuesday, the storied Tiffany and Co. in Union Square in San Francisco. This was as much a shock to me as anyone, because I expected one of two things to happen. One, I find something that speaks to me and they tell me it’s $50,000, or they kick me out for wearing runners, jeans and a tee shirt.

It was here that I met Joesph, a third generation jeweler and a very likable guy who would guide me along the path to my ring buying decision. When I asked what they had to offer in a Art Deco or Art Nouveau style, he replied that they didn’t have anything Art Deco, but had something Edwardian, which draws influence from Art Nouveau. When he showed me the ring, I knew we had a winner. The Tiffany and Co. Legacy ring just jumped out of the case, and was exactly what I was looking for. He agreed to bring in some other rings from for comparison in the same style, and that I could decide then.

With the ring buying decision all but complete, I again focused my attention on the location and the whole setup. After racking my brain for a few weeks with ideas of grandeur, I decided I was over thinking the whole thing. I needed some place that just spoke “surprise!”, some place she would not expect to be taken. I looked for a combination of seclusion, ocean, and breath taking views. It was then I came upon the Inn Above Tide, a lovely inn in Sausalito that had suites over the water (yes, over). I soon found myself reserving the Vista Suite, complete with jetted spa tub, private balcony, wood burning fireplace, and a view that is unsurpassed. They would have fine champagne waiting in the room, and it was set.

With the room set, I again focused on the ring. Joesph had brought in a series of rings that I looked through. He explained their subtle differences and didn’t push me to buy any of them. As I looked though the rings and sipped Tiffany branded bottled water, I had come to the conclusion that she probably wouldn’t expect to be taken to a lovely inn on the ocean and handed a Tiffany and Co. ring. This was turning out rather well.

As I walked out of the store into the pouring rain on that Thursday afternoon, a blue Tiffany and Co. bag containing the ring firmly clutched to my chest, I believe I was in good shape. I just had to get her to the inn without her knowing we were going to the inn. I’m not terribly good at surprises, and keeping this one was going to be down to the wire.