Allen: That's quite a lovely Jackson Pollock, isn't it?The last line, of course, uttered after the subtlest of pauses. Brilliant.
Woman: Yes, it is.
Allen: What does it say to you?
Woman: It restates the negativeness of the universe. The hideous lonely emptiness of existence. Nothingness. The predicament of man forced to live in a barren, godless eternity like a tiny flame flickering in an immense void with nothing but waste, horror, and degradation, forming a useless, bleak straitjacket in a black, absurd cosmos.
Allen: What are you doing Saturday night?
Woman: Committing suicide.
Allen: What about Friday night?
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Woody Allen
For some reason, this little interchange from Take The Money and Run popped into my head.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
This is why it's good to get the newspaper
I usually just toss the Metropolitan section of the Sunday Times but this jumped out at me
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/22/nyregion/the-secret-life-of-alan-z-feuer.html
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/22/nyregion/the-secret-life-of-alan-z-feuer.html
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Car talk
I'm having an embarrassing problem with the car I've been driving. No, it doesn't make rude noises or insult passersby (though one of my high school friends once got a traffic ticket for turning his windshield washers to the side and squirting pedestrians). The problem is embarrassing because it just could not be more of a first world problem. You ready? If I plug my iPhone into the integrated touchscreen system to access my music, the touchscreen doesn't work very well at all.
I know, how can I possibly get through the day? This is even worse than my cappuccino machine making foam that's not quite thick enough I just made that up, my cappuccino machine is fine). What's even more embarrassing is that I've had the car for over 2 years, and not only had I never noticed that the system didn't work, I didn't even know it existed. So you can see how essential it is.
In essence, the problem is embarrassing only because it's so minuscule and unimportant that I feel like an idiot even complaining about it. On the other hand, I paid for this thing, so I did nothing until I needed an oil change and then I told the dealer about this problem, almost as an afterthought. And the good news is that it turns out that all the cars made with this system have the same problem, so they will fix it free. It requires replacing a computer module and the USB port. The bad news is that the parts needed to be ordered.
A few days later I got a postcard saying parts had been delivered so I made an appointment. I sat in the waiting room for a couple of hours and then the service guy came in and took me into the shop. He showed me what was happening and I told him it was exactly the same as it's been. He said the service bulletin said to replace 2 pieces and that only one had been delivered. So would I mind coming back?
Now mind you that I had now already spent 3 hours on something that is much much closer to not existing than to being an actual problem. But now I was curious so I said okay (though I have to admit I was dubious about that part fixing it).
Another post card arrives trumpeting the arrival of the part, I make another appointment and sit in the waiting room for another 2 hours, noticing that my car had come in gone from its shop bay rather quickly. Finally they tell me that the part didn't change it, and that they'd spent the last hour on the phone with the central office service manager who apparently was trying to convince them that working poorly was either what these things were supposed to do or that there was nothing to do about it. To his credit (though of course this is based on his own telling of the story), the service tech refused to accept that answer, so now we wait for the mythical traveling service supervisor, Elijah I think his name is, or was it Godot?
So now 6 hours on the non-problem. We're getting pretty close to the horizontal asymptote if we're graphing improvement in my life versus time.
I know, how can I possibly get through the day? This is even worse than my cappuccino machine making foam that's not quite thick enough I just made that up, my cappuccino machine is fine). What's even more embarrassing is that I've had the car for over 2 years, and not only had I never noticed that the system didn't work, I didn't even know it existed. So you can see how essential it is.
In essence, the problem is embarrassing only because it's so minuscule and unimportant that I feel like an idiot even complaining about it. On the other hand, I paid for this thing, so I did nothing until I needed an oil change and then I told the dealer about this problem, almost as an afterthought. And the good news is that it turns out that all the cars made with this system have the same problem, so they will fix it free. It requires replacing a computer module and the USB port. The bad news is that the parts needed to be ordered.
A few days later I got a postcard saying parts had been delivered so I made an appointment. I sat in the waiting room for a couple of hours and then the service guy came in and took me into the shop. He showed me what was happening and I told him it was exactly the same as it's been. He said the service bulletin said to replace 2 pieces and that only one had been delivered. So would I mind coming back?
Now mind you that I had now already spent 3 hours on something that is much much closer to not existing than to being an actual problem. But now I was curious so I said okay (though I have to admit I was dubious about that part fixing it).
Another post card arrives trumpeting the arrival of the part, I make another appointment and sit in the waiting room for another 2 hours, noticing that my car had come in gone from its shop bay rather quickly. Finally they tell me that the part didn't change it, and that they'd spent the last hour on the phone with the central office service manager who apparently was trying to convince them that working poorly was either what these things were supposed to do or that there was nothing to do about it. To his credit (though of course this is based on his own telling of the story), the service tech refused to accept that answer, so now we wait for the mythical traveling service supervisor, Elijah I think his name is, or was it Godot?
So now 6 hours on the non-problem. We're getting pretty close to the horizontal asymptote if we're graphing improvement in my life versus time.
Booting
I started reading an article in Rolling Stone about hazing at Dartmouth fraternities and there was a line in it about the ability of perfectly nice, normal people to do horrible things to each other. The article is very graphic and I'm guessing the most frequently occurring word in it is "vomit," but it's worth a read if you have a strong stomach.
The point, though, is what human beings are willing to subject each other to in certain circumstances. There's a well known psychology study called the Milgram Experiment, where subjects thought they were the experimenters, and were asked to administer electric shocks to an actor posing as a subject of the fake experiment. There were not actually any shocks and they could only hear but not see their supposed subject, who seemed to emit what were pre-recorded shrieks. The actual subjects, given direction by the person in charge, believed they were giving shocks of increasing voltage (up to 450 volts, 4 times what's in a regular electrical outlet), causing increasing pain, and yet continued to do so because that was what they were "supposed to do."
The experiment is very interesting and as authoritative as social science experiments get, and it was key in promoting ethics in psychology. It didn't do much for the real world, however, except to expose what most of us already knew was the case, that people can be cruel given proper encouragement.
Casual cruelty is all too common in modern America, whether it's finding comedy when someone is kicked in the groin in movies or in easy sarcasm. As a teacher, I find it interesting that students, who may be genuinely nice people, say insulting things to their peers in class that they would never dream of saying to the same person one-on-one, and probably wouldn't even say behind someone's back.
What is going on that group dynamics encourage this kind of behavior? Why is it acceptable to behave in this manner? The only thing I can come up with is the overwhelming need of people to feel good about themselves, regardless of the collateral damage. It's not unusual for insecure adolescents to insult others to uplift themselves. The frat boys at Dartmouth want to feel like membership in their group is so desirable that pledges will endure torture to join. And I guess on some level they are right, because people do go through the hazing and come out the other end to treat new pledges in the same fashion. (Full disclosure: I was in a fraternity in college and we used to brainstorm ideas and joke about hazing, but we never actually did anything).
I'm all in favor of feeling good, and I'm a subscriber to the belief that almost all human behavior is self-centered, but I don't think this is okay and more importantly I don't think it bodes well. I'll pick this up in another context in a subsequent post.
The point, though, is what human beings are willing to subject each other to in certain circumstances. There's a well known psychology study called the Milgram Experiment, where subjects thought they were the experimenters, and were asked to administer electric shocks to an actor posing as a subject of the fake experiment. There were not actually any shocks and they could only hear but not see their supposed subject, who seemed to emit what were pre-recorded shrieks. The actual subjects, given direction by the person in charge, believed they were giving shocks of increasing voltage (up to 450 volts, 4 times what's in a regular electrical outlet), causing increasing pain, and yet continued to do so because that was what they were "supposed to do."
The experiment is very interesting and as authoritative as social science experiments get, and it was key in promoting ethics in psychology. It didn't do much for the real world, however, except to expose what most of us already knew was the case, that people can be cruel given proper encouragement.
Casual cruelty is all too common in modern America, whether it's finding comedy when someone is kicked in the groin in movies or in easy sarcasm. As a teacher, I find it interesting that students, who may be genuinely nice people, say insulting things to their peers in class that they would never dream of saying to the same person one-on-one, and probably wouldn't even say behind someone's back.
What is going on that group dynamics encourage this kind of behavior? Why is it acceptable to behave in this manner? The only thing I can come up with is the overwhelming need of people to feel good about themselves, regardless of the collateral damage. It's not unusual for insecure adolescents to insult others to uplift themselves. The frat boys at Dartmouth want to feel like membership in their group is so desirable that pledges will endure torture to join. And I guess on some level they are right, because people do go through the hazing and come out the other end to treat new pledges in the same fashion. (Full disclosure: I was in a fraternity in college and we used to brainstorm ideas and joke about hazing, but we never actually did anything).
I'm all in favor of feeling good, and I'm a subscriber to the belief that almost all human behavior is self-centered, but I don't think this is okay and more importantly I don't think it bodes well. I'll pick this up in another context in a subsequent post.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Mind the shreddy bits
I recently acquired a scanner and a shredder. This is very nice because, like most people, I love feeding paper into things. Clearly, however, it is important to distinguish the two machines from each other. For example, if I want to both scan and shred something, it's important for me to remember in which order to do these things, because scanning first works much better.
The shredder is the size of a waste basket and sits on the floor. The scanner is the size of a hoagie and sits on my desk. It's not hard to distinguish between them, and one is much more dangerous than the other; in fact it comes with 8 pages of safety instructions, while the other comes with none. However, it's the scanner that rates the safety guide, while there's nothing but a few bold-faced warnings and a half page of bullet pointed cautions in the shredder instructions.
The scanner's safety brochure starts off with a key to the warning labels, one of which, indicates that if you don't follow this particular instruction it may result in "severe injury or death." These sorts of things contain an admonition to stop using the scanner if smoke, heat, or an abnormal noise or smell is coming from the scanner. Getting foreign objects (water, small metal objects, etc.) can also cause injury or death, although I don't really think water is an object. Then at the end of the list "Other problems which indicate a scanner failure are detected" (note that this phrase is grammatically correct although it appears otherwise, the 'are' doesn't refer to the scanner failure, which is an 'is'). I don't know about you but I find this to be overly broad warning. If the paper won't feed into the scanner it may indicate a problem that could result in severe injury or death? Maybe I shouldn't have bought this thing.
Also, the scanner has a little warning label on it, the warning for which reads, this warning label can become very hot. To avoid burns, do not touch this label. Many of the safety warnings regard the use of electricity, something many of us have apparently never done before. Most of these end with "can cause electric shock or fire" and they include handling the scanner with wet hands, leaving it "in a car under scorching heat," using it "while covered with a blanket'," letting your hair, tie or jewelry get caught in it, or using it while driving a car (which I'm pretty sure belongs in the 'severe injury or death' section). There's also the usual stuff about not putting it on the edge of the table because it might fall on you, but I think my favorite one is" When handling documents, be careful not to cut your finger with them." This is always good advice, which applies not only to documents but things like knives, swords, numchuks and chain saws.
The shredder may not require the same detail of instruction because its dangers are perhaps more obvious. Anything they say here, aside from the standard warnings not to put it under water or catch it on fire somehow, have to do with trying to not shred some part of your body. Mostly this means unplugging it before you touch the shreddy bits. My favorite, which is the only repeated instruction, pertains to its awesome CD shredding function. I don't really care for Rihanna, for example, and if I see a CD of hers lying around I might wish to shred it, but, as the instructions note, if I do so I must not hold the CD with finger through the center ring while feeding into the shredder. This is wonderful phrasing, which makes it easy to imagine the consequences of not following that instruction without having to explain them in graphic detail. Many Hollywood directors could learn from this principle. Why one would be shredding even awful CDs like Rihanna's is beyond me however.
I've now had these things for a week, and aside from getting a paper cut (damn, they warned me about that!) I'm still alive and unharmed. I'll let you know if anything more interesting happens or if I decide to shred any CDs.
The shredder is the size of a waste basket and sits on the floor. The scanner is the size of a hoagie and sits on my desk. It's not hard to distinguish between them, and one is much more dangerous than the other; in fact it comes with 8 pages of safety instructions, while the other comes with none. However, it's the scanner that rates the safety guide, while there's nothing but a few bold-faced warnings and a half page of bullet pointed cautions in the shredder instructions.
The scanner's safety brochure starts off with a key to the warning labels, one of which, indicates that if you don't follow this particular instruction it may result in "severe injury or death." These sorts of things contain an admonition to stop using the scanner if smoke, heat, or an abnormal noise or smell is coming from the scanner. Getting foreign objects (water, small metal objects, etc.) can also cause injury or death, although I don't really think water is an object. Then at the end of the list "Other problems which indicate a scanner failure are detected" (note that this phrase is grammatically correct although it appears otherwise, the 'are' doesn't refer to the scanner failure, which is an 'is'). I don't know about you but I find this to be overly broad warning. If the paper won't feed into the scanner it may indicate a problem that could result in severe injury or death? Maybe I shouldn't have bought this thing.
Also, the scanner has a little warning label on it, the warning for which reads, this warning label can become very hot. To avoid burns, do not touch this label. Many of the safety warnings regard the use of electricity, something many of us have apparently never done before. Most of these end with "can cause electric shock or fire" and they include handling the scanner with wet hands, leaving it "in a car under scorching heat," using it "while covered with a blanket'," letting your hair, tie or jewelry get caught in it, or using it while driving a car (which I'm pretty sure belongs in the 'severe injury or death' section). There's also the usual stuff about not putting it on the edge of the table because it might fall on you, but I think my favorite one is" When handling documents, be careful not to cut your finger with them." This is always good advice, which applies not only to documents but things like knives, swords, numchuks and chain saws.
The shredder may not require the same detail of instruction because its dangers are perhaps more obvious. Anything they say here, aside from the standard warnings not to put it under water or catch it on fire somehow, have to do with trying to not shred some part of your body. Mostly this means unplugging it before you touch the shreddy bits. My favorite, which is the only repeated instruction, pertains to its awesome CD shredding function. I don't really care for Rihanna, for example, and if I see a CD of hers lying around I might wish to shred it, but, as the instructions note, if I do so I must not hold the CD with finger through the center ring while feeding into the shredder. This is wonderful phrasing, which makes it easy to imagine the consequences of not following that instruction without having to explain them in graphic detail. Many Hollywood directors could learn from this principle. Why one would be shredding even awful CDs like Rihanna's is beyond me however.
I've now had these things for a week, and aside from getting a paper cut (damn, they warned me about that!) I'm still alive and unharmed. I'll let you know if anything more interesting happens or if I decide to shred any CDs.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Expect the unexpected because then it's not unexpected, it's expected.
My youngest daughter is now a junior in high school, so I only have another year or so to attend and savor school concerts. Therefore, it appears to be time for me to extract some overarching observations and perhaps even conclusions about them.
First of all, there is no sound as characteristic of an event as the slightly flat E played by every violin in every piece played in school concerts. It used to drive me crazy, but now I crave it because it makes the experience complete.
Last night's shindig featured vocal and instrumental groups. The performances break down as follows.
First of all, there is no sound as characteristic of an event as the slightly flat E played by every violin in every piece played in school concerts. It used to drive me crazy, but now I crave it because it makes the experience complete.
Last night's shindig featured vocal and instrumental groups. The performances break down as follows.
- Middle school singers can be incredibly cute when doing an upbeat, fun song (a highlight earlier this year was a quickly paced variation on do-re-mi, where the kids all stopped for a moments and called out, "Key change, wheee!") but maybe not so much on a more serious number.
- Performances of unexpected pieces has become so much the norm that it has lost its surprise value. Yes, it's initially amusing to hear "Bohemian Rhapsody" done by a group of flutists, but not all 7 minutes worth.
- Most disappointing, however, was a vocal rendition of the William Tell Overture. I love this piece of music- it's thrilling when done well, but part of what makes it great is how slowly it starts (and you know that part of the piece too, at least if you watch Bugs Bunny). As the slow part draws to an end, the fast, familiar part begins, almost out of the background, adding drama as it builds. It also has all kinds of crazy builds and climaxes. None of this was present. This same group had done a more successful version of the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy earlier in the year. That piece is much quirkier and lends itself well to the a capella treatment.
Hotel review
Here's my TripAdvisor review of my stay at the Parker Meridien Hotel in New York last week:
I can't comment on the stay before summarizing perhaps the most chaotic and irritating reservation experience I've ever had. My daughter was performing with a choir at Carnegie Hall and the hotel was convenient. I reserved a room for her and my wife in my wife's name for Wednesday night checking out Sunday. I was going to join them on Friday and reserved a second room in my own (different last) name, all with sub-$300 AAA rates- decent for the neighborhood.
That was all fine, until they decided to arrive on Thursday instead. When I tried to change the date on the web site, the price jumped to $800. I decided that was insane and that human beings wouldn't stand for it, so I called the reservation line, where, after several minutes repeating that I did not want to move the whole reservation back a day but shorten it by a day, the agent said she couldn't fix it, put me on hold for about 5 minutes, then came back and told me that the hotel manager had made the change and kept the same rate, and also that she had requested connecting rooms as I'd asked. I thanked her and forgot about it for a while, but for some reason became concerned a few days later. I called the reservation line again and was told the reservation had not been changed and again got put on hold for 5 minutes and again was told it would be taken care of.
I figured things were fine until I got a pre-arrival e-mail still showing the original arrival date and I hit the roof. I called the hotel this time and they said there was a notation in the reservation saying the date should be changed but that nobody had actually made the change. They said not to worry and changed the date.
The next, day, my wife arrived, her reservation was fine, but no accommodation had been made for connecting rooms and that the clerk was insisting that nothing could be done about it. She called me from the front desk and I had to get on the phone with the Stepford Clerk and have her get the manager. Apparently, the notation for connecting rooms had neglected to mention who to connect to. The manager understood that it was unlikely that I had asked for a room connecting to some unknown party and that it was clearly their mistake, and though it was impossible to connect at that point that we could be next door and could check out at 4PM with no charge.
Once we got there the hotel was fine. New York hotels are allowed a certain quirkiness that would not be tolerated in less concentrated environments, and ours is no exception. With the advent of flat screens, the hotel took advantage of the opportunity to wall mount the TVs and eliminate the bulky furniture underneath. This leaves the rooms feeling almost expansive, with generous space between the end of the bed and the opposite wall. It also leaves the room without any place to store one's clothes, if one is inclined to unpack. My room had one small drawer to the right of the desk and a shelf to the left. That's it. But you do get the expansive feel and a wall that really looks like there should be a piece of furniture there, especially because there are no less than 3 sets of electrical outlets that were probably useful when TV was sitting on the dresser.
The beds were fine, there's an odd paucity of glasses and no fluffy robes, and the faucets in the bathroom are set about 1/4 too far back, so if you have the water on low pressure it lands on the counter instead of in the sink. Overall, though, I found it a pleasant, convenient place to stay. It's close to multiple subway lines and has 3 Starbucks, a Dean and Deluca cafe and a well-stocked fancy grocery store all within a block or so. I would certainly stay there again.
I can't comment on the stay before summarizing perhaps the most chaotic and irritating reservation experience I've ever had. My daughter was performing with a choir at Carnegie Hall and the hotel was convenient. I reserved a room for her and my wife in my wife's name for Wednesday night checking out Sunday. I was going to join them on Friday and reserved a second room in my own (different last) name, all with sub-$300 AAA rates- decent for the neighborhood.
That was all fine, until they decided to arrive on Thursday instead. When I tried to change the date on the web site, the price jumped to $800. I decided that was insane and that human beings wouldn't stand for it, so I called the reservation line, where, after several minutes repeating that I did not want to move the whole reservation back a day but shorten it by a day, the agent said she couldn't fix it, put me on hold for about 5 minutes, then came back and told me that the hotel manager had made the change and kept the same rate, and also that she had requested connecting rooms as I'd asked. I thanked her and forgot about it for a while, but for some reason became concerned a few days later. I called the reservation line again and was told the reservation had not been changed and again got put on hold for 5 minutes and again was told it would be taken care of.
I figured things were fine until I got a pre-arrival e-mail still showing the original arrival date and I hit the roof. I called the hotel this time and they said there was a notation in the reservation saying the date should be changed but that nobody had actually made the change. They said not to worry and changed the date.
The next, day, my wife arrived, her reservation was fine, but no accommodation had been made for connecting rooms and that the clerk was insisting that nothing could be done about it. She called me from the front desk and I had to get on the phone with the Stepford Clerk and have her get the manager. Apparently, the notation for connecting rooms had neglected to mention who to connect to. The manager understood that it was unlikely that I had asked for a room connecting to some unknown party and that it was clearly their mistake, and though it was impossible to connect at that point that we could be next door and could check out at 4PM with no charge.
Once we got there the hotel was fine. New York hotels are allowed a certain quirkiness that would not be tolerated in less concentrated environments, and ours is no exception. With the advent of flat screens, the hotel took advantage of the opportunity to wall mount the TVs and eliminate the bulky furniture underneath. This leaves the rooms feeling almost expansive, with generous space between the end of the bed and the opposite wall. It also leaves the room without any place to store one's clothes, if one is inclined to unpack. My room had one small drawer to the right of the desk and a shelf to the left. That's it. But you do get the expansive feel and a wall that really looks like there should be a piece of furniture there, especially because there are no less than 3 sets of electrical outlets that were probably useful when TV was sitting on the dresser.
The beds were fine, there's an odd paucity of glasses and no fluffy robes, and the faucets in the bathroom are set about 1/4 too far back, so if you have the water on low pressure it lands on the counter instead of in the sink. Overall, though, I found it a pleasant, convenient place to stay. It's close to multiple subway lines and has 3 Starbucks, a Dean and Deluca cafe and a well-stocked fancy grocery store all within a block or so. I would certainly stay there again.
Viking Robots in Space!
I'm trying to figure out if my doing Twitter is damaging my blogging. I think blogging is more important because it allows me the time and space to develop ideas, but I'm not sure if fully developed ideas are passé.
What do I do, for instance, with this? I'm scanning through a page of news and see the headline: Viking Robots Discovered Life On Mars in 1976. This is fantastic! Who knew that the Vikings had robots? Or that the Vikings discovered life on Mars? I still find it kind astounding that they "discovered" North America. Or that there are still Vikings around in 1976?
There are two ways I can go with something like that. I can compress it into 140 characters or less and get it out quickly, or I can expand on it like I'm doing here.
So I'm trying to visualize what a Viking robot would look like. I guess it would be kind of hairy, for a robot anyway. Come to think of it, any hair on a robot would be kind of unusual. And the hat! Not only have I never seen a robot with a horned helmet, I've never seen robots with any sort of headware. So in spite of having been around for all these years, robot accessories are still not catching on.
And how did they get those awesome boats up into space? There must have been Viking rockets, or maybe a big slingshot or catapult. Were they disappointed that there was nothing to pillage when they arrived? Or were they searching for their gods? I don't even know if Vikings thought their gods lived in the sky the way we moderns do.
Okay, so maybe it's not the most significant thing I've ever written, but more fun and satisfying than what I could do on Twitter. And, by the way, I do remember when NASA launched the Viking space probes, though I hadn't realized that it was so long ago.
What do I do, for instance, with this? I'm scanning through a page of news and see the headline: Viking Robots Discovered Life On Mars in 1976. This is fantastic! Who knew that the Vikings had robots? Or that the Vikings discovered life on Mars? I still find it kind astounding that they "discovered" North America. Or that there are still Vikings around in 1976?
There are two ways I can go with something like that. I can compress it into 140 characters or less and get it out quickly, or I can expand on it like I'm doing here.
So I'm trying to visualize what a Viking robot would look like. I guess it would be kind of hairy, for a robot anyway. Come to think of it, any hair on a robot would be kind of unusual. And the hat! Not only have I never seen a robot with a horned helmet, I've never seen robots with any sort of headware. So in spite of having been around for all these years, robot accessories are still not catching on.
And how did they get those awesome boats up into space? There must have been Viking rockets, or maybe a big slingshot or catapult. Were they disappointed that there was nothing to pillage when they arrived? Or were they searching for their gods? I don't even know if Vikings thought their gods lived in the sky the way we moderns do.
Okay, so maybe it's not the most significant thing I've ever written, but more fun and satisfying than what I could do on Twitter. And, by the way, I do remember when NASA launched the Viking space probes, though I hadn't realized that it was so long ago.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Spring of our discontent
It's an odd time for us Phillies fans. The team is injury-depleted and scuffled its way through spring training, never getting much offensive juice. And so far during the regular season, they team is 1-3, has scored once in 2 games, and a total of 6 more runs in the other two. I was at the game on Monday and it just had a weird vibe about it, with the crowd never having the chance to get into the action because there was no action.
All I want to say to everyone getting upset about all of this is, hey folks, chill out. And what I don't mean by that is that everything is going to be okay. I have no idea if everything is going to be okay. It's hard for me to come up with a team that lost its number 3 and 4 hitters and then went on to have a good year. I'm not giving up, but this year may just not work out.
It's an odd time to be a Phillies fan. Last year, aside from its bummer ending, was one long high point, six months of spectacularly good baseball, as good as I've seen in 50 years of following the game. The best record in team history. A gift to the fans. There really was nowhere to go but downhill. And I'm saying this as a fan who wants nothing more than continued success.
But continued success is hard. Notice what a big deal we make out of winning the division 5 straight years? Why is it a big deal? Because it's really really hard to do. Aside from the Braves' amazing 13 year run, the next best in history is 6. And that was done once by the Yankees. So the Phillies are now tied with the Yankees and Oakland A's of the early 70's for the 3rd longest streak of division titles since they first created divisions back in 1969. That's an amazing feat of sustained excellence.
So do I want to see a 6th? You bet. Am I confident it will happen? Not at all. Am I hopeful? Will I continue to go to the park and support them even if this year is disappointing? Will I still be proud to have this team represent this city that I almost but not quite live in? Absolutely. It's baseball. You never know what's going to happen next. And that's why I love it.
All I want to say to everyone getting upset about all of this is, hey folks, chill out. And what I don't mean by that is that everything is going to be okay. I have no idea if everything is going to be okay. It's hard for me to come up with a team that lost its number 3 and 4 hitters and then went on to have a good year. I'm not giving up, but this year may just not work out.
It's an odd time to be a Phillies fan. Last year, aside from its bummer ending, was one long high point, six months of spectacularly good baseball, as good as I've seen in 50 years of following the game. The best record in team history. A gift to the fans. There really was nowhere to go but downhill. And I'm saying this as a fan who wants nothing more than continued success.
But continued success is hard. Notice what a big deal we make out of winning the division 5 straight years? Why is it a big deal? Because it's really really hard to do. Aside from the Braves' amazing 13 year run, the next best in history is 6. And that was done once by the Yankees. So the Phillies are now tied with the Yankees and Oakland A's of the early 70's for the 3rd longest streak of division titles since they first created divisions back in 1969. That's an amazing feat of sustained excellence.
So do I want to see a 6th? You bet. Am I confident it will happen? Not at all. Am I hopeful? Will I continue to go to the park and support them even if this year is disappointing? Will I still be proud to have this team represent this city that I almost but not quite live in? Absolutely. It's baseball. You never know what's going to happen next. And that's why I love it.
Tuesday, April 03, 2012
In my own head
Today I made coffee in the office and then realized that we had no milk. People sometimes seem curious about my internal dialogue, so here's a bit. All of what follows was actually spoken out loud to myself.
(Looking in English Department refrigerator) Hmmm, no milk, there's some salad dressing. It looks a bit like milk but probably not a good idea.
(Science refrigerator) At the old building they sometimes had dead animals in the freezer. This fridge is too small for that. Okay, there's cream cheese, dairy, but too thick. There's somebody else's Starbucks coffee with some milk in it. Would that work? Don't know, but there must be a better option.I did eventually find someone with leftover half and half minis.
Sunday, April 01, 2012
New York Touristic
I was born in Brooklyn and lived in New York until I was 30, so I consider myself a native, but since I'm here for the weekend staying in a hotel, this gives me a perspective with which to evaluate New York as a tourist spot.
First of all, New York is crowded and busy. I'm guessing this is not surprising information, but I'm serious. Try arriving at Penn Station on Friday 6PM and then attempting to get from the south side of the concourse over to the subway. Try to do this quickly and without touching anyone else. Simply not possible. You can do one or the other but not both. It's interesting to me that although I haven't lived here for 25 years, I have not at all lost my ability to navigate crowds. You show me a hoard of people headed for a bank of stairs or a subway entrance and I'll show you the quickest way to get there. My traveling companion, a fit, recent college grad, struggled mightily to keep up with me as we wove through the waiting room, even though I was exhausted and running a fever.
Second, there are a lot of Starbucks here. I know there are a lot of Starbucks everywhere, but again, New York has to one-up everyone else. My hotel is in the middle of the block on 56th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues and there is one Starbucks directly across the street, one on the corner of 56th and 6th and another between 55th and 56th on 7th. While traveling from the 6th to 7th Avenue outposts, you will also pass 4 other coffee shops as well.
That's another thing about New York. Proximity to competition is no impediment. There are coffee shops next to coffee shops, delis next to delis next to other sorts of restaurants, and rows of souvenir shops on the same block. How can this be? See my first point. The streets are too full for a single outlet of anything important to city life to be sufficient. We need superfluity (which may or may not be a word but should be) just to accomodate everyone.
New York hotels are allowed a certain quirkiness that would not be tolerated in less concentrated environments, and ours is no exception. With the advent of flat screens, the hotel took advantage of the opportunity to wall mount the TVs and eliminate the bulky furniture underneath. This leaves the rooms feeling almost expansive, with generous space between the end of the bed and the opposite wall. It also leaves the room without any place to store one's clothes, if one is inclined to unpack. My room had one small drawer to the right of the desk and a shelf to the left. That's it. But you do get the expansive feel and a wall that really looks like there should be a piece of furniture there, especially because there are no less than 3 sets of electrical outlets that were probably useful when TV was sitting on the dresser.
We went to Chinatown for dinner last night. Try to choose a good place in Chinatown using Yelp. I dare you. It is an extremely helpful guide to where to eat at 3AM after a night of heavy drinking. It seemed like every other comment said something of that nature. The place we picked was fine (My favorite review comment: "Service is wham bam thank you ma'am, without the thank you"), but I learned far too much about the interaction of alcohol and fried food and about the health code grades that are posted on the door of every establishment. Don't worry, all of the Starbucks are graded A, which means 7 or fewer code violations on the most recent inspection. Most of Chinatown is graded B or, for the truly brave, C (below C means shut down).
Breakfast this morning was at the famous Carnegie Deli, where a corned beef sandwich costs as much as our dinner for three at The Great NY Noodle House, and is so large that the one time I had lunch there when I was working in the neighborhood, I got 4 full meals out of it. I had salami and eggs, which was yummy, and one of my wife's cheese blintzes (you have to order 3 and each one weighs about half a pound) which was even yummier. It amazing how deep frying improves everything.
Every inch of wall space is covered with autographed 8-by-10 pictures. Within my sight were David Hasselhoff, Bobby Murcer, Billy Joel, Chris Noth, Miss Teen USA 1996 and too many more to remember. Our favorite moment there was when the group of 2 adults and 6 middle school-age kids sitting to our left got their sandwiches, both of the adults sat straight up, agape and unsure how to deal with the massiveness of it all, while the 13 year old boy next to them gave it a quick glance and a squirt of mustard and dug right in without any change in facial expression.
First of all, New York is crowded and busy. I'm guessing this is not surprising information, but I'm serious. Try arriving at Penn Station on Friday 6PM and then attempting to get from the south side of the concourse over to the subway. Try to do this quickly and without touching anyone else. Simply not possible. You can do one or the other but not both. It's interesting to me that although I haven't lived here for 25 years, I have not at all lost my ability to navigate crowds. You show me a hoard of people headed for a bank of stairs or a subway entrance and I'll show you the quickest way to get there. My traveling companion, a fit, recent college grad, struggled mightily to keep up with me as we wove through the waiting room, even though I was exhausted and running a fever.
Second, there are a lot of Starbucks here. I know there are a lot of Starbucks everywhere, but again, New York has to one-up everyone else. My hotel is in the middle of the block on 56th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues and there is one Starbucks directly across the street, one on the corner of 56th and 6th and another between 55th and 56th on 7th. While traveling from the 6th to 7th Avenue outposts, you will also pass 4 other coffee shops as well.
That's another thing about New York. Proximity to competition is no impediment. There are coffee shops next to coffee shops, delis next to delis next to other sorts of restaurants, and rows of souvenir shops on the same block. How can this be? See my first point. The streets are too full for a single outlet of anything important to city life to be sufficient. We need superfluity (which may or may not be a word but should be) just to accomodate everyone.
New York hotels are allowed a certain quirkiness that would not be tolerated in less concentrated environments, and ours is no exception. With the advent of flat screens, the hotel took advantage of the opportunity to wall mount the TVs and eliminate the bulky furniture underneath. This leaves the rooms feeling almost expansive, with generous space between the end of the bed and the opposite wall. It also leaves the room without any place to store one's clothes, if one is inclined to unpack. My room had one small drawer to the right of the desk and a shelf to the left. That's it. But you do get the expansive feel and a wall that really looks like there should be a piece of furniture there, especially because there are no less than 3 sets of electrical outlets that were probably useful when TV was sitting on the dresser.
We went to Chinatown for dinner last night. Try to choose a good place in Chinatown using Yelp. I dare you. It is an extremely helpful guide to where to eat at 3AM after a night of heavy drinking. It seemed like every other comment said something of that nature. The place we picked was fine (My favorite review comment: "Service is wham bam thank you ma'am, without the thank you"), but I learned far too much about the interaction of alcohol and fried food and about the health code grades that are posted on the door of every establishment. Don't worry, all of the Starbucks are graded A, which means 7 or fewer code violations on the most recent inspection. Most of Chinatown is graded B or, for the truly brave, C (below C means shut down).
Breakfast this morning was at the famous Carnegie Deli, where a corned beef sandwich costs as much as our dinner for three at The Great NY Noodle House, and is so large that the one time I had lunch there when I was working in the neighborhood, I got 4 full meals out of it. I had salami and eggs, which was yummy, and one of my wife's cheese blintzes (you have to order 3 and each one weighs about half a pound) which was even yummier. It amazing how deep frying improves everything.
Every inch of wall space is covered with autographed 8-by-10 pictures. Within my sight were David Hasselhoff, Bobby Murcer, Billy Joel, Chris Noth, Miss Teen USA 1996 and too many more to remember. Our favorite moment there was when the group of 2 adults and 6 middle school-age kids sitting to our left got their sandwiches, both of the adults sat straight up, agape and unsure how to deal with the massiveness of it all, while the 13 year old boy next to them gave it a quick glance and a squirt of mustard and dug right in without any change in facial expression.
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