One’s family members and your hobby

I recently cross-posted to several Yahoo groups a question that, while off-topic, did involve model railroading. Specifically, I asked:

[w]hat do you do when you learn that someone in your immediate family is not fond of your hobby, to the extent they’re either hostile towards it, or contemptuous?

Perhaps the collective brain trust can provide some thoughts on that question.

So that list group members would understand the kind of person I’m dealing with, I provide some historical background how my trains came to be in my mother’s possession, from the financial difficulties I had, to the “agreement” I signed under duress that resulted in my trains’ being “held hostage.”

I then described the flooding incident in my mother’s home, in which her bathroom flooded, and the water made its way into the basement. The boxes holding my trains were stored in the basement directly beneath the bathroom, and they got wet and fell over. I performed “triage” to clean up the mess the day after she notified me, which looked worse than it actually was.

During one of those visits, my mother made the comment that she bet she could “get $12,000” for them. When I advised her that she didn’t know the market, she said she “could get $5,000.” Worse, she’d “suggested” that she “could ‘secretly’ sell them,” or have my sister do it on eBay, given her successes there.

As I did an inventory of my equipment on my laptop recently, my mother saw the spreadsheet and remarked that I ought to “have a space for the prices I paid for the cars, so I could see the differences between the two, “when I sell my trains,” as her fantasy states.

“I’ve sold off about thirty percent of my roster,” I wrote, “but only as part of a plan to refine my fleet by getting rid off cars that aren’t appropriate or suitable for my planned switching layout, or for other reasons. Entire liquidation is not an option, but my mother seems to think it is by her continued advocacy that I sell off all of them.”

“Furthermore,” I added, “I’m not in a position to remove them physically from her home, as I presently have nowhere to put the dozen or so boxes that contain those models as well as my hobby tools.”

I wrapped the message by restating my question at the top: “[h]ow do you folks deal with a family member who is, for want of a better word, ‘hostile’ toward your hobby?”

The responses were interesting, to say the least.

While I didn’t keep a scorecard of sorts regarding the answers, most were sympathetic to my situation, and one person, who lives in Virginia, even offered to store them at his place. (I had to decline due to the distance; I’m in New Jersey.)

I was also chided for the inappropriateness of the post to the various groups to which I sent it. Certain individuals went so far as to recommend counseling, either for my mother or myself, as well as telling me to “grow up” and accept responsibility, etc. Some went so far as to recommend I sell off all my trains, a point I described in the message as not being an option. (I did mention that I’ve sold off about thirty percent of the roster, but it was for certain reasons and not to raise money per se.) One or two people even missed the gist of my post, and I had to clarify it.

I suppose part of the problem(s) I experienced from people responding to my posts was that I may have provided too much detail in my background. Oh, well.

However, I think everyone missed an important point in my post: that a member of my family has effectively targeted my hobby, presumably with the intent of “breaking” me of that interest, but for reasons unknown to me, my indebtedness notwithstanding. Talk about hostility towards one’s hobby! People also missed the lifelong emotional and psychological abuses I’ve experienced, with the hobby-oriented issue being highlighted for the lists.

It was an interesting thread, as I also learned of other modelers who are in the same or similar situation, so I found it comforting in a weird way that I was not alone in this regard.

Trimming the Fleet

Or is it "culling the herd"?

I've recently been selling off parts of my HO scale freight car fleet in what I call a "rationalization." That's the umbrella term I use for the sale of various cars, both unbuilt kits and assembled models.

This fleet numbered about 190 cars at its highest in 2003, and I was able to get them back through a series of events I won't cover here. However, I chose to seize that opportunity to liquidate certain cars.

My "rationalization" has three parts. The first is disposing of cars that are inappropriate for my long-planned switching layout. That meant cars like the dozen Walthers autoracks I had, and because said switching layout doesn't have a place for them. Moreover, their length means they'd take up too much space on the layout once it's built. Other cars that didn't fit were a couple of cars in a demonstrator paint scheme, which I couldn't justify, either.

I also targeted certain other cars, such as certain covered hoppers. While I probably could strip them and repaint them for something else, I figured someone else may enjoy them, too, so on the market they went.

I also chose to part with certain cars decorated for specific connections to my past. I put up for sale a couple of wood-sided reefers that had been decorated for the Garden State Model Railroad Club's Garden State Northern club layout, because of unpleasant memories associated with the first club to which I belonged.

I also targeted anything connected with CSX or its non-Conrail predecessors, because of that company's desire and program to get rid of me. Fortunately, I had few pieces, which meant I would get rid of them quickly, such as a three-pack of Athearn Center-Flow covered hoppers custom decorated the three Chessie System constituent roads, as well as a factory-decorated pair of 45-foot CSX intermodal trailers. I look at this part of my "fleet rationalization" as a healing step, if nothing else.

The third part is, if it can be called that, a protest against Union Pacific. The "Borg of Railroading" instituted a licensing program that I, as a modeler, felt was ridiculous in general and onerous for hobby manufacturers.

The UP set forth certain stipulations with respect to the use of their intellectual property. While they're within their rights to do so, they actually saw it as a bona fide revenue stream. UP is a billion-dollar freight railroad. They make their money transporting freight, and they wanted licensing fees as a revenue stream? At best, these fees would amount to a negligible portion of their annual revenue as a percentage.

So, in my own little way, I decided to protest this by selling off all my Union Pacific, Southern Pacific, Missouri Pacific, and Chicago & North Western stuff, which also extended to other items such as mugs. Granted, it's not much, but at least it makes me feel better.

There was also a fourth part that wasn't consciously planned: era. Part of this sell-off included cars not suitable for my contemporary era in which my railroad is set. Coincidentally, the GSN reefers were part of that, as were the "Heritage Collection" cars that were offered to NMRA members in the 1990s. These cars were decorated for modelers' railroads of the past, such as John Allen's Gorre & Daphetid and Frank Ellison's Delta Lines. While I thought they would be "interesting," they technically don't fit my layout's concept, so I decided someone else might enjoy them.

I sold the first seventeen cars not on eBay, as I should have done, but on a Yahoo! group created for that purpose, and which was devoted solely to HO scale. However, due to my objection to the way that group's owner ran his group, I bailed shortly after I sold four cars from my second posting to that group.

Instead, I shifted my future sales to eBay, where I was likely to get better exposure for my items.

Say what you will about eBay, but they offer an integrated system for listings, sales management, money receipt and payment, printing shipping labels. That integration makes it extraordinarily easy to track the items one sells.

It also begat an interesting experience with a prospective buyer. I seem to attract the weirdoes, and I don't know why.

I'd listed the three-pack of Chessie System Center-Flows as one auction. One person bid on them shortly after the listing appeared. "Great," I thought, "they'll sell."

Then I got an email from another eBayer asking about local pickup, whether he can pay in cash, etc., as he lived in a town not far from me. Mmm, okay.

We went back and forth as to the neutral location, etc., and in each of my three responses, I mentioned he'd have to be the winning bidder.

I never heard back from him after my third response, nor did he ever bid on those cars.

I inferred two things from the email exchange.

First, he wasn't too bright. I don't think he grasped the idea he was expected to bid on that auction and win it, if he expected to pick them up locally.

Second, I also got the impression, from reading between the lines, he wanted me to end listing early, just so he could have the cars. There already was one bid on them, so there was no way I was going to deprive a legitimate bidder (I never heard from him again after the auction, either.)

For all I know, he was a con artist, looking to scam me.

Lessons Learned

If I could go back in time, I would have listed all of the cars on eBay, for reasons I mentioned earlier.

Another lesson I've learned is the use - value, really - of pictures. Part of the reason some things were not getting the bids I hoped for is that, as I write this, I'm in no position to upload photographs with my listings. However, I've been able to sell a number of items despite this handicap.

The Honor of Service (or what I could have been)

From time to time, I'll find myself thinking about our military and eventually, to the time my attempt to enlist fell apart. This also begets the "what if" question(s) that arise as a result.

The 1985-86 school year was my junior year of high school. One day, I received an envelope from the New Jersey motor vehicle agency regarding licensing, and it included a postcard for information for the New Jersey National Guard. Interested, I filled it out and sent it in.

There were a couple of motivating factors involved. The first was that, as someone who'd been overweight his entire life, joining the service would be a great way to get in shape. The second was money for college, which would have been nice.

A few weeks later, I got a call from Sergeant Green, a NJNG recruiter. As I'd just awoken from a nap, I wasn't hitting on all cylinders, so Dad took over.

Sgt. Green came by several days later, as I recall, to discuss opportunities and so forth. He also scheduled a date for me to take the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery (ASVAB) test.

The test consisted of a variety of common-sense questions to help the military gauge the aptitude and intelligence of the prospective recruit. (My raw score was 87, which Sgt. Green said was really great for someone of my age.) Out of all the questions posed, one stuck out in my mind, probably because of its ridiculous absurdity. While I don't remember the exact wording, it had to do with the function of the clutch in a car. One of the multiple-choice answers was, "disconnect the pistons from the crankshaft."

Sgt. Green also scheduled me for a physical at the MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station), which was the next step. It consisted of a physical exam, covering all sorts of things, from height and weight, to vision, to strength, etc. Alas, I was rejected for being slightly overweight, based on their charts, as well as vision. Thus began the downhill trajectory of my day.

Sgt. Green dropped me off at school in time for my fifth-period gym class. Given that this was April or May (I suspect the latter), softball was the order of the day. I went to my gym locker and changed, and we gathered, divided ourselves into teams, and went outside to the field.

Long story short: I was hit in the face at the top of the game, when the first hit was thrown to me on first base, and I used me face to catch the ball. Thus ended my school day.

In the ensuing years immediately afterward, I entertained the thought of attempting to enlist a second time. But, as things like school and work took greater priority, that idea was gradually pushed to the back burner.

Yet sometimes I wonder how different I would be than the person I am now. Would I have greater self-confidence? Would I be more assertive? Less apprehensive? I don't know, nor will I ever.

I suppose, looking back, it was for the best. I don't doubt I may have made a good soldier. Three years after graduating high school, I suffered a grand mal seizure one morning before work, which also put my mind at ease and solved that one nagging question that had been in the back of my mind for a number of years. Thirteen years after that, I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes, and four years later, I injured my knee on the job. Those conditions, along with my age, are enough to keep me out period.

So instead, I admire and respect those men and women who choose to enlist in our armed forces, pursuing something that's greater than them. One person described serving in the military as "the ultimate expression of patriotism," in that they're willing to risk their lives to show how much they love their country. To them I say, "Thank you."

Model Railroad Interchange

A few years ago, as I planned my HO scale switching layout, I asked fellow Pacific Southern member Roger Thomas about possibly physically interchanging cars between our layouts, once mine was built. He agreed.

Unfortunately, that plan has stalled for personal reasons, as I was not able to build that layout, due to certain events in my personal life. However, I did not give up on the idea.

It grew out of a suggestion someone made on an online forum, when I asked something about how many cars one needs to be able to replicate traffic flow convincingly. The person's reasoning was that by doing so, one gets access to a larger pool of cars, thus further enhancing the realism.

I also recalled an article I read in Model Railroader about one modeler in Wapakoneta, Ohio, who practiced this, citing a figure of 1,500 cars interchanged per session at the high end, with his operators. I tracked him down to ask him some questions about the process, as well as points to consider. I followed up with a phone call in which he promised to reply to my letter. I'm still waiting.

I don't recall all the points I raised in my letter, but they were legitimate issues. One that comes to mind has to do with what protocols, if any, exist for when one person's car on a host layout is damaged. Relatively minor issues, such as coupler repair or replacement, or truck work, would be handled by the host modeler on whose layout the damage occurred, but what is the protocol in the event the "guest" car takes a dive off the layout and sustains severe damage? The real railroads already have a set of such protocols, so it would be logical to pattern the modelers' one after that.

Another was car forwarding, or more specifically, compatibility between different car-forwarding systems. Roger uses a home-brewed car card system that was probably based on something in the hobby press; I hadn't decided on a system. In that case, how would one convey the routing or destination information? The simplest method is to enclose a sheet of paper with the relevant information, either handwritten or computer-generated. (Of course, this can lead to the question of what to do with the CC&WB for cars that are "in process," in that the cars have not cycled through their waybills.)

Another question is more practical: if a "visiting" car has the same reporting marks as a "home" car, what does one do? My initial solution, other than to maintain a large database, is to give the "guest" car priority in handling to minimize the time away from its owner. However, this also means one has to locate the duplicate "home" car and remove it from the layout for the duration the visiting car is on that layout.

The whole idea proved really intriguing to me the more I thought about it. Imagine expanding the group beyond the initial two modelers. The pool of cars grows dramatically, with all sorts of increased opportunities for traffic destinations. This truly excited me, for several reasons; I've already named one.

Another is how it can potentially benefit participating modelers. All of a sudden, a modeler with a large fleet of, say, grain cars, has a place to send them other than to a hidden yard or storage, and cars have a greater territory over which to roam.

It also alters the whole "paired industries" concept. Under this, a shipper and receiver (consignee) are found on the same layout, such as a lumber mill and lumber yard, coal mine and power plant, etc. Yet this isn't necessarily realistic or practical, depending on the size of the layout, so extending the paired-industries concept over two or more layouts further enhances the realism.

I'll give you an example, again based on my planned switching layout.

At one point, I envisioned a plastics molding company on an extension of my layout, called Torben Plastics. That's great, but what does it make? Well, Roger has an automobile plant on his layout, and Torben could be a supplier, supplying the various plastic items found in today's automobiles, whether it's dashboards, door panels, head- and taillight assemblies, or whatever. It receives both empty auto parts boxcars and loaded covered hoppers. The cars are switched out based on the car cards and waybills, and ultimately interchanged back to Roger. The boxcars go to his auto plant, and the covered hoppers "elsewhere," to be "reloaded" to repeat the process. In the meantime, more cars are interchanged to my layout for distribution to my consignees. And, depending on the routing, one's cars might have to roll over two or three layouts to get to their ultimate destinations on another member's layout.

It means one's cars could potentially be out for a protracted period, but at the same time, that same modeler will have an influx of cars from other members of his group.

I also got to thinking about other practical matters that are found in this concept, such as physically swapping cars. How would this be accomplished: in person? Via mail?

The former is pretty easy, whereas to ship the models, one must worry about packing them to prevent damage. Sending them requires a sturdy container, preferably reusable, packing material, and so forth.

The idea is not without precedent, as modelers have interchanged cars over the years. Some have been informal exchanges, whereas others have been more structured. The National Model Railroad Association (NMRA) has/had such a car exchange for some time, though I don't know much about it. German modeler Wolfgang Dudler, who owns the Westport Terminal (at http://www.westportterminal.de), participated in an informal one that concentrates on private roads, with photographs of these cars shared with their owners.

Way back in the mid-1990s, I found a group on America Online (AOL) that discussed this, and I received a newsletter. The group's acronym was TRAIN, though I don't recall what it stood for, and the first two issues were emails. The third issue was sent out as a PDF attachment. Alas, the third issue was the group's final newsletter, as the person behind the effort was killed in a construction accident. Prior to this person's death, another member had begun work on a computer program that would help match up members with whom to interchange cars, taking into account one's scale.

There is also the matter of frequency. An imbalance will arise if one of the modelers operates his layout monthly, and another does it weekly. That imbalance will create a backlog, especially if the weekly-operating modeler - whom I'll call "John" - has the monthly-operator ("Bob") as his interchange partner. The problem affects both, but in unique ways.

For "Bob," that means he'll have a veritable flood of cars being interchanged to him. Then, when he gets to operating his layout, he'll have a large quantity of cars to handle, both coming to him and going out to his "connections."

For "John," it's worse, I suppose, because his outbound cars will quickly drain his supply as he waits for "Bob" to send him more cars. And, he will also have to suffer a substantial influx of cars coming to him from "Bob."

The nice thing, though, is that such ebbs and flows tend to balance out over time. However, they still exist when dealing with only two modelers.

One solution is for the two modelers to reach a middle ground, such as operating biweekly, to help smooth out such imbalances.

Another is to introduce a third modeler, "Tom," who could probably function as a "relief valve" of sorts when these kinds of situations present themselves. "Tom" and "John" could interchange between themselves when "Bob" isn't operating, under the premise those cars have "run" over "Bob's" layout, and while it works as a solution, it also means cars on "Bob's" layout that are due to interchange to either "Tom" or "John" won't be picked up and forwarded to either layout.

I also figure some kind of industry directory would be helpful, perhaps something patterned after a prototype guide, to help the modelers plan where to forward cars as part of their operations. It should also have restrictions, such as not being able to handle cars beyond a certain length, what offloading and loading equipment might be present, etc., all as appropriate.

So what do you think? Comments are enabled, so feel free to share your thoughts.

I want lumens, dammit!

As a photographer, I appreciate the importance of adequate light to record an image. Likewise, I also understand the importance of "task lighting," i.e., sufficient illumination to do ordinary things safely and comfortably, whether it's reading a book, sewing, etc.

That is why I went ahead and swapped out two of the four compact fluorescent bulbs in our motel room with hundred-watt incandescent bulbs yesterday.

I will probably catch flak for having installed those bulbs in sockets rated for sixty watts, but I like being able to see what I'm doing, and this swap was, in my opinion, long overdue. Now I can actually see what I'm doing much better, and with less eyestrain.

The CF bulbs I removed had an equivalent power output of sixty watts, but consumed substantially less energy, which leads to additional effects of reduced energy costs, all the way up to helping the environment. (These will be restored when we check out, and that depends on how soon we can find an apartment.)

Now, I'm all for saving the planet (I've been, to some degree, an environmentalist of sorts all my life), but I don't like having to "settle for less" when I don't have to, especially in matters that, to one extent or other, have to do with comfort and/or safety.

Dieter Zakas

A Bittersweet Anniversary

It occurred to me earlier today that this date, March 20, is a bittersweet anniversary for me.

That’s because it’s the second anniversary of my resigning as conductor from CSX Transportation, on a day when I was originally scheduled to have an investigation regarding an operating rules infraction.

I did so partly because I wanted to “save face,” as I put it, with respect to my railroad career, a point I made to my boss in my exit interview. When I mentioned that, he nodded in agreement, adding that he’d known me since I first set foot on the property, and that he was saddened by my decision. Furthermore, I had not been happy there for some time.

Yet my timing couldn’t have been worse: it was just before the economy fell apart, and that I left the employ of a good-paying job of eight years without another one already lined up. Talk about doing dumb things!

CSX was significant because I’d worked there for eight years, and that they were the first railroad for whom I worked. However, I view my departure as temporary in nature: my experience will surely work in my favor when I apply to other carriers, and I will land on my feet. It may take longer than I expect, but hopefully not too long!

In some ways, I was relieved I’d resigned, yet at the same time, saddened at the departure. It meant leaving the comfort of good money and what it provides.

“Time heals all wounds,” goes the saying, and I realize that it applies to me as well. As the days pass, the pain arising from that decision will eventually fade, hopefully in the not-too-distant future as I land another job and move forward.

Fred's Retirement: The End of an Era

Change, by its very nature, can be unsettling.

The degree of change is what will bother people. If it's minor, or so small as to be unnoticeable, as in using, say, different-colored curtains, then it will not be as disquieting as something more substantial, as would be in the case of painting a room's walls a significantly different color.

The latter is what I experienced on March 9, 2010, when I decided to stop by F&M Hobbies, a hobbyshop I'd patronized for most of its quarter-century existence. It was started in 1984 by Fred Moglia (hence the name), following a twenty-three year stint as senior chemist at Shell. He was a big bear of a man with salt-and-pepper hair and beard, who was friendly but also of strong opinion, and could be found holding court on various topics with certain people whom he knew. (One example is that of an illustration in the store's restroom, showing an American flag on a pole, with the caption, "Why the HELL do I have to press '1' for English?")

When I pulled into the parking lot of the small shopping center where the hobbyshop is sited, I found several things seemingly out of place. What was with the Honda Ridgeline in the spot normally used by Fred's Dodge Ram pickup? And why were the doors opened wide? When I stepped inside, I asked myself, Where's Fred? He wasn't by the register as I usually found him, so I looked around and not seeing him, began to wonder whether he'd been the victim of foul play, so I called out for him.

The biggest surprise came in the form of Jim Dobis, the new owner of F&M. Fred, looking to retire, had sold the business to Jim, a former construction materials salesman for residences, who was himself unemployed, and looking for a business to buy. He like F&M because of the product mix and the layout of the store, so he took over the reins on March 1.

While chatting with Jim, I was relieved he didn't plan to make big changes, something that would be appreciated by the longtime, loyal customers of the store. In fact, as the new owner, he was surveying his customers to learn their interests, to help guide him.

In some ways, though, I wonder whether something has been lost with Fred's retirement. He launched F&M Hobbies after leaving Corporate America, and he was so strongly associated with the business - he was the proprietor, after all - that it's no doubt a bit weird entering the store and not seeing him behind the counter. But, Fred has no doubt deserved his retirement, and I wish him well post-F&M.

My impression of Jim Dobis was positive. He certainly came across as likable, if a bit aloof, but that was probably from not knowing me, as well as perhaps being his nature. As the new owner, he's trying to get his "sea legs" in terms of running a business, and has taken the right approach to that end, by asking his customers about their interests, not making huge changes, ordering stuff that hadn't been reordered in some time, etc. Given that F&M has a long history, reliable and loyal customer base, and great highway location, he'll be able to serve customers for another twenty-five years, as Fred did as owner and founder.

Since taking over, Jim has launched a website, http://www.fandmhobbies.com/, and I asked him about perhaps establishing social-networking presences on Twitter and Facebook. I was pleased to learn those are in the pipeline. Furthermore, he even has an email address for the store: fandmhobbies@hotmail.com.

Fred and Jim have entered new stages in their lives, and I wish them the best in their endeavors. Fred, enjoy your retirement; you deserved it.

An Update on Me

“Happy New Year!” Don’t I wish!

Well, I haven't been able to post in over a month because our internet connection evaporated for the simplest of reasons: failure to pay the bill! (We use our cable company’s “triple play” of TV, phone and internet.) I’m writing this post from a computer at the Apple Store near where I live.

Hopefully, I’ll be able to resume posting sometime in the near future, once we reestablish our internet access.

I really wish I were sitting on some money, so we could avoid eviction. We need US$1,000 by tomorrow, January 16, to prevent eviction. I’m reluctant to ask my mother because, knowing her, she’d attach quite a few strings to any money she loans us. How many? I like to describe it as “enough to make a shirt.” (It doesn’t help, either, that the landlord is an asshole, too.)

Worse, I’m expecting some money from my grandmother’s estate, but I won’t receive it for about four weeks at the earliest, given the probate process, court backlog, and so forth. Sigh.

Before I get too far along with my blog posts, I thought I’d provide contact information. You can reach me at dieterzakas@yahoo.com, and you can follow me on Twitter at twitter.com/karnydoc.

Here’s hoping to a (better) new year...

Dieter Zakas