Costs & Choices (Apr 3 2026)

My contractor asked if we wanted nice lighting.
“Depends the alternative and the cost”. 

I’m somewhat surprised by his surprise at my answer.
Like.
Sure: of course I want nice lighting. If you ask me that question in a vacuum, the answer is definitely yes.
But that question is only meaningful if it has a comparison.
What is the other option for lighting?
What are the actual trade-offs?
Is “nice” lighting one million dollars, while “normal” lighting is a buck fifty seven? 

I keep running into this situation with contractors.
I hired this contractor due to their line items.
I decided not to get a recessed niche in my shower… 
due to that shower niche being ~$2k.
At $2k, we’ll put our shampoo on the windowsill. 

My contractor – and his designer – often find this approach confusing.
It’s not that I’m unwilling to spend money.
It’s that I can’t say “yes” to a thing without even a ballpark.
And that ballpark should come with a basic comparison.
Do people not do simple economic analyses when renovating a home?
Not even a super-deep preference list, but just a simple “This light costs $100. That light costs $200. Would I pay an additional $100 for that light?”
On plenty of parts, my preference ended up being cheaper

In working with my designer, we must train each other to work well together.
One part of that is the way he proposes options. 

I hired him for his opinion and skill.
I want his recommendation – not merely to view all the options and choose myself.
And I also want his tradeoffs: what are the traits that would lean you toward this over that, and what are the summaries of other reasonable options? 

I don’t know how other people choose their elements
but I can do the simple gut check of “Would I pay $375 for an additional power outlet there?” 
That’s the beauty of money: it’s a universal comparison.
The best things in life are priceless.
For everything else, it’s a clear unit.

Celebrating My Hekoya Nature

A friend told me today about the Native American archetype of hekoya. He described it as, “When the crowd goes right, the hekoya goes left.”[1]

[1]: (Wikipedia’s further description: The heyókȟa is a kind of sacred clown… [that] symbolizes and portrays many aspects of the sacred beings… [their] satire presents important questions by fooling around. They ask difficult questions, and say things others are too afraid to say. Their behavior poses questions as do Zen koans. By reading between the lines, the audience is able to think about things not usually thought about, or to look at things in a different way.)

In the spirit of the hekoya, I shall now celebrate my oddness. Here are things that I did today [well, yesterday as of posting this] that are completely reasonable and yet most people might find odd. Go, verily, and lead a more satisfying life:

  1. Drove 4hrs with a dear friend who dropped me off and then immediately hightailed her way back, thinking little of the gift. (As she described it, “I have a lot of books [to listen to on the drive]”). 
  2. Moved a bed into a closet and hung blackout curtains so I can sleep at my parents’ place in complete darkness.
  3. Bought a 65” flat-screen TV for my parents’ house, which I will only be in for ~2 months. (Gotta make your space your own!)
  4. Thought that buying a TV was weird (this thinking is perhaps more weirder than the buying… as I have never bought a TV. The only TV I have ever owned was an inherited little 15-inch doohickey installed by the guy who built out my camper van. (He used it, I assume, when he lived in the van. I used it a total of 3 times… ever… and it was… fine.). 

Pics of my new closet-room:

Now go, my children, and be the hekoya you were always meant to be.*

*: Most of you were not meant to be hekoya. Tough titties. It’s fuckin’ great.