Man plans a life on the open water
His couch is gone - the pinkish floral number that stayed in the same spot for nine years in his Abingdon townhouse. Tim Callis was never nuts about this piece of furniture, but it has always been there. Now it's in a thrift store. About everything is gone - except his laptop, two blankets, a box of family photographs and a few clothes.
A man still needs clothes, even when he is on the nervy verge of early retirement and what some would say is a crazy plan.
Timothy David Callis, 31-year-old computer guy, has un-possessed himself of his possessions. He advertised his downsizing project on the online classifieds site craigslist.org.
"I've got to get rid of everything in my home," he wrote. "So think what's in a home and ask - if you don't see it, I'll let you know if I have something similar." Callis' posting, in November, was accompanied by eight pages of inventory pictures. Kitchenware, appliances, tools, trinkets, paintings, so many clothes, so much stuff.
What online takers didn't take, Callis donated to churches, thrift stores, consignment shops, coffeehouses, family and friends. Sold the TV (cable turned off). Twenty-five CD cases ("You could use them for target practice"). Fifteen used computers. A framed Monet print to his mom ("Nobody would pay me $5 for that"). His mom also got a bed. Another bed went to her son's former girlfriend. "She took a couple of other things. Whatever," Callis says.
Even his black Camaro convertible might have to go, so you know the man is serious.
"Everything I owned, treasured, liked, is gone," Callis says. His Harford County townhouse must feel empty.
"Very."
So, what is the plan?
"I am abandoning traditional society."
And?
"I'm taking my dog with me."
The plan involves a 35-foot sailboat. Peace, Tranquillity, Escape, Learning - Callis hasn't fixed on a name yet. Hasn't bought it yet, either. All in good time. And when that good time comes, he'll take with him one Australian herding dog named Max, one cell phone, one laptop for blogging and e-mailing, and books on star navigation and how to cook using one pan. His planned ports-of-call include Costa Rica and Brazil.
"I will shove off and go coastal hopping around the world, being a crazy moron."
His sister, Samantha Mefford, knows something about feeling restless, or at least feeling that if she wanted to, she could pack up everything she owns and take off.
"I understand," she says. "I actually live in an RV."
Mefford, a 29-year-old high school athletic trainer, knew Callis was up to something last year. He had come by their parents' home in Jarrettsville, where she sometimes parks her recreational vehicle.
"I do mission work and travel wherever I feel the need to serve," she said.
On his own mission, her brother sized up her 34-foot RV to see how much he would have to downsize once he moved into a sailboat.
"He figured he has to downsize his whole house," she said.
Both Callis children grew up in a "very conventional, stable" household, Mefford says. Their parents, however, had anything but a conventional beginning. Tom Callis, a copier technician, and Pat Callis, a bookkeeper, know adventure. In 1970, Tom Callis was stationed in Greece with the U.S. Air Force. "I left to go to Greece to marry him," says Pat Callis. The couple then biked and hiked through England. So, it didn't exactly floor them when their son announced his plans this summer.
"I said, `Take me with you.' I would love to go," his mother said.
"Why not?" his father said. "If you can do this when you're young and can afford it, why not?"
His son, apparently, can afford it. Tim Callis specializes in computer-aided design, or CAD, and has worked on classified computer projects for the U.S. government. He bought his own house when he was 21 and continues to make a good living. And nine years into a profitable career, he wants to retire.
"He's living out a dream," his sister says, "that most of us have."
At a time of year when people are clearing out their closets and basements to make room for stuff they received during the holidays, Callis has plenty of storage space.
His townhouse in Abingdon is semi-deserted. Callis, a high school lacrosse athlete with knee operations to prove it, sits in a remaining chair in his house. It's easy to imagine Callis sailing alone. He just seems alone; an emptying house can have that effect on its remaining owner.
The Monet print that would soon be his mother's leans against a wall. "Like it? $5," Callis says, ever the auctioneer these days. There's an unplugged TV. "I'm giving it to my ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend." Two blankets are folded in a corner. Between the $5 Monet, the new boyfriend's TV and the blankets, you want the man to move this instant before he changes his mind. How can something seem both sad and exciting?
"I'm good with this," he says.
