25 things about me

March 8th, 2009

Yes, it’s self-aggrandising.  But, then again, so’s most of what I see around me every day…

1. While I value friendship over all other life’s joys, I am very strongly introverted (this fact surprises most of my friends).  That means the world only makes sense to me after I’ve had an opportunity to process it all completely on my own.  An example: weddings.  I’ve been to 103 of ‘em (including my own), and at every single one, I had to step away during the reception for at least 20 minutes to walkabout on my own and to begin to feel again like I belonged in my own skin.

2.  The first six years of my life, at least one of my parents didn’t work so I’d always have a parent around during those important developmental years.

3. For Father’s Day, when I was 10 years old, I was asked for a school project to write down some things I loved about my father.  I sat there for an hour and then began to cry because I didn’t know what to write.   My dad had gone back to school to get his Master’s degree and then, after that, worked at a job with over an hour commute in each direction.  I didn’t think I knew him.

4. I was wrong.  My dad and I are EXACTLY alike in almost every imaginable way.

5. At UC Santa Barbara, there is a bike and foot path tunnel that connects the campus to Isla Vista, the adjacent community where most of the college students live.  When I attended, on the north wall of the tunnel, there was spray-painted a single-line poem, stretching straight from one end to the other: “He silently drives me home in the rain.  He holds open the screen door while I fumble for the keys to my life.  He comes in.” It has since been painted over; I still don’t know what it means, but it’s one of the most haunting things I’ve ever read.

6. I have read the following, in their entireties, aloud: All seven Harry Potter books; Dune; all of Lord of the Rings (including the appendices); all five books of Hitch-hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, all of Raold Dahl’s short fiction and children’s books.

7. For about a third of my life, I’ve lived within a quarter mile of the ocean.  I love the ocean, but hate the beach (I really don’t like sand).

8. When I’m home alone at night, I often sing to my dogs.

9. Before I turned eighteen, I had spent over a year’s worth of nights camping.

10. On my eighteenth birthday, I was backpacking: the penultimate day of the planned trip.  I had spent the last seven birthdays away from home, and I had much earlier and emphatically told my parents, who had planned the trip with our Boy Scout troop, that I did not want to be on the trail for my birthday.  I was so upset, that I threw a fit, and pretty much forced everyone to hike out a day early.  I was a very strong hiker, and in order to achieve my goal, I went back up the mountain twice to pick up the packs of the weaker hikers in the group. That day, I hiked 37 miles and ruined the end of everyone’s trip just so I could have pizza on my birthday. I deeply regret having done this not only because it was horribly immature, but also because I haven’t backpacked since.

11. With the exception of fingers and toes, I have never broken a bone; however, when I was five years old, I was balancing on a step stool when watching TV with my parents, despite their repeated warnings to stop, lest I fall and hurt myself.  I fell off on purpose to see what it would feel like.  My parents and I ended up spending seven hours in the ER waiting room that night with a dislocated right elbow. I’ve never told my folks I fell on purpose.

12. I’ve broken both the big toe and little toe on my right foot over a dozen times collectively (not ONCE on purpose, I promise).

13. I detest bad grammar (though I’m far from perfect, myself), but if I could get away with it, I’d never use a capital letter again.

14. My corrected vision is exceptionally sharp, and I can see extremely well in the dark.  Even if it’s completely dark, I usually can navigate a house purely from memory, if I’ve spent more than 15 minutes in it.

15.  At night, I prefer to work/live in dimly lit spaces.  Dim light, to me, is like a smooth glass of red wine and a Chopin nocturne playing.  It just soothes my soul.

16. Teachers are my heroes: especially those who mirror Einstein’s great quote: “The greatest teacher is not experience; it is example.”

17. I own on DVD everything Aaron Sorkin’s ever screenwritten: All 7 seasons of West Wing; both seasons of Sports Night; the first and only season of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip; The American President; A Few Good Men; and Charlie Wilson’s War.

18. I’ve never hit a ball with a bat.

19. Genetically, I’m an absolute orthodontic mess: for the smile I have now, I had 14 teeth pulled and wore braces for five years.

20. I recently ran a long-distance relay with colleagues from work (187 miles total); I sprained my ankle 200 feet into my last (and shortest) leg of the race.  I ran over 4 and a half miles with a sprained ankle; I could have walked it faster, but I was determined to accomplish what I’d set out to: to run the entirety of all three of my legs of the relay.  It took nearly four months for my ankle to heal.

21.  When I was eleven, I bought a copy of Roget’s International Thesaurus, 4th edition.  It organised its word and phrases by their meaning, making it what Amazon now calls “the most efficient word finder and a cutting-edge aid in stimulating thought, organizing ideas, and writing and speaking more clearly and effectively.”  I would spend many very late hours (naturally, by a dim light) thumbing through its pages, looking at the words like arcane components to a spell I might conjure, as if they possessed magical powers.  I’m still convinced that, at that age, I had perceived them quite correctly.

22. I have 9 years of higher education and no degree.

23.  One of my biggest pet peeves is when people stop the microwave before it counts down to zero without also clearing the timer.

24.  The two most important things I learned from my dad are: “Do something you love to do so much that you’ll do it for free, but do it so well that folks will pay you handsomely to do it”; and “Better is the enemy of Good.”

25.  The most important thing I learned from my mom is: “Do nice things for people who’ll never find out.”  My hope is to have learned it at least a tenth as well as she’s taught it.

The opportunity costs of playing it safe (in love)

March 1st, 2009

After the whole set of Juli misadventures, I found myself incredibly cynical. I’d see ads in the newspaper for diamond rings and such, and I’d scoff at the naiveté of these fools rushing into love, not knowing how much hurt lay in store for them. Part of me wished I could simply forget my pain and enjoy the veil of innocence I was once under. I’m sure, however, it was more than anything simply the sting of betrayal mixed with a bit of jealousy.

After a while, though, I tried to get back into the game a bit. I was seeing a girl for a bit… there was a good chemistry, and we had fun together, but I purposefully didn’t make any overtly romantic gestures. So, it was a friendship with an interesting chemistry and the possibility for Friends-with-benefits.

But I still sat on it: for two reasons. A) I didn’t want to get hurt, so I was being careful; B) I didn’t know whether I was interested in this girl long term, and I worked with her and had kinda integrated her into my friendship base. So, after about two months, things kinda came to a head, and she disengaged, not even wanting to talk to me for about a week. In the end, we’ve become pretty fast friends again, but we’re not as thick-as-thieves as we were doing that two month stint.

I bring this story up because when it kinda fell apart, I was surprisingly unhurt by it all. I’m the type of guy who falls in love really darn easy. Perhaps it’s abandonment issues or something, but when I find someone who wants to be with me, I fall right in, even if it’s wrong. This time, however, it was strangely easy for me to maintain that emotional distance I’d never done before. Could it all have been something more if I’d just jumped in? Certainly, multiple mutual friends have said so since. But in the end, I know that the relationship couldn’t have lasted, and I’m happier thinking that months or years later, I can call her a friend instead of an ex-girlfriend.

But the crux is this: at some point in each new relationship, one must ask oneself, What am I willing to risk? For the chance to see if this could be something stellar, what am I willing to sacrifice if I’m wrong?  What level of hurt am I willing to sustain for the possibility of joy?

I’ve managed to not get hurt over the last year and a half, but at the same time, I wonder… what have I missed out on, too? What has playing it safe really gained me?  What opportunities am I essentially choosing to pass up in order to continue to don this armour?

borne ceaselessly back into the past

February 6th, 2009

I don’t know why I care; certainly the knowledge that she must be out there lingers unquestioned.

A search through my browser history will demonstrate that every two or three weeks, I find myself looking for traces of her. Yet, when I do, I am simultanesouly disappointed and relieved. Why do I look?  In life, Julianne kept a bizarrely low profile; she hated other people knowing what she was doing. She was the most private individual I’ve known.  I don’t think I quite appreciate how deeply she let me in, nor fully understood the extent to which she would end up compartmentalising her life when I was no longer the primally intimate force in it I had once been.

I must presume that she’s moved on, that she’s paid off her debt (largely in part to the property settlement that left me deeply in debt); that she’s found a place of her own that isn’t the type of shithole she lived in after she left me but while we were still in communication; that she’s been dating others, fallen in love–I have no reason to not believe that she isn’t romantically involved with Josh, the guy she dated for a year and a half before we met, and whom she left to entertain dating others when I first asked her out.  I have no reason to not believe all these things are true, andI accept them, but it’s easier to simply accept them as abstractions, and not know, not have the presumptions verified.

I’ve tried so hard to purposefully distance myself from her–because I know I’m still not over her.  If she once again were even the remotest presence in my life, I’d break down and try to figure a way to make it work, and if I couldn’t, if she’s moved too far on, that I’d kick myself once again for the choices I made that led to the end of the marriage and then our subsequent contact in the first place.  It’s a kind of self-destruction I know I’d bring on myself and which I cannot afford to, no matter how much I love her. So, I maintian distance.

She sent me a birthday card and a present; I ignored it entirely.  I almost would prefer her to think that I don’t exist or care anymore. That’s better than the forever temptation of wanting to resurrect something that hurt me so deeply.  People ask me if I miss Califrnia–more than I’d like to admit; it’s one thing to think of each new day in each new place as an adventure. But the best days of my life were somewhere else, with or without her–a place that I feel exiled from simply because I can’t stomach the thought of being so potentially close to her and to not be with her.  To be in such geographic proximity and to yet maintain distance in our personal lives.  It is far easier to be 1500 miles away where it isn’t a faint possibility.

But distance melts away with new social networking.  When I first joined Facebook about three months ago, I entertained a few searches, and was relieved/disappointed to find she hadn’t yet made her way here.  But with each new friend from my past, deeper and deeper connections to my past were forming. After Juli and before Juli were fine. But the degrees of separation kept narrowing with each new friend. Luckily, I’ve altogether avoided friending anyone who might still have a connection with her. But the other day, the photographer at our wedding, and an old mutual acquaintance (who was a closer friend to her than to me) contacted me.  I ignored him.

But I can’t go on like that indefinitely.  How much power do I give this one person to dictate who I will and will not be friends with? It’s not their fault. They didn’t particiupate in the demise of our relationship (although those who watched it unfold and chose to remain her friend despite its end, I still resnt and have a hard time forgiving). But the merest inkling of a connection is like kryptonite to my social soul.  I don’t want to know what’s going on in their worlds, simply on the offchance that their path may intersect with hers, and then I’d know about it.

Well, it was a matter of time.  After watching a tech interview with the founder of a new social connectivity service called Gist, it occurred to me that the entire world is about this connectivity; this is our future.  Despite how private she is, our paths are bound to reconnect, no matter what I do.  I performed a Facebook search, and sure enough, there is a new profile with her name.  A search of friends don’t reveal anyone who’s a common connection, but the location of the two friends she has clearly show that it’s her.  And so now what?  Reconnecting with her is a button-click away. Why would I do it?  Why wouldn’t I?  She was my best friend for eight years, and since then, I haven’t come close to that level of personal intimacy and I miss it terribly. Her biggest lament about ending our marriage was that she’d lose her best friend. We both did.  But to touch that soul again would be like putting my hand deep into the fire, expecting the heat to not burn my hand.

She’s out there in the world. But, what did I expect?  Why do I care?

How much of my past must I destroy to move forward?  Like a riptide, it continues to pull me under and draw me back: in my soul, in my mind, a yearning so real it’s in my body.

But I’d still rather set fire to it all than relive it another second.

Map of Popular Super Bowl Words Used on Twitter - Interactive Graphic - NYTimes.com

February 3rd, 2009

Another very interesting visual Twitter-log video, this time demonstrating the volume of certain words throughout the country as various milestones in the Super Bowl occurred:

Map of Popular Super Bowl Words Used on Twitter - Interactive Graphic - NYTimes.com

Edward Tufte would be proud.

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Steve Jobs a music visionary? Judge for yourself | Digital Media - CNET News

February 3rd, 2009

A very interesting retrospective look at a Rooling Stones interview Steve Jobs gave back in 2003 regarding the future of digital music and Apple’s role in that industry, only eight months after having opened the iTunes Music Store:

Steve Jobs a music visionary? Judge for yourself | Digital Media - CNET News

The metrics on what portion of Apple’s revenue consists of iPhone sales versus Mac sales (39% to 30%) were very interesting.

I also really thought Jobs’s comments on copyright was spot on: how maintaining intellectual property rights is not only important for the economy and the future of innovation, but that it when it becomes so easy to steal, not having an equally easy legal alternative leads to the corrosion of consumers’ character.

How freakin’ insightful is that?

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Go

January 26th, 2009

The last couple of weeks, I’d been thinking about a film I saw back in 2000, Go. “Thinking about” turned into “seeking out”, and it turns out that it’s available on Hulu network right now, which I can stream to my TV through my XBox 360.  So, I saw it again tonight, and for the second time, I enjoyed it thoroughly.

Go was made in 1999 and staring a cast of actors whose work I’ve really come to enjoy: Sarah Polley, Taye Diggs, Jay Mohr, William Fichtner, Timothy Ollyphant, with Scott Wolf and Katie Holmes rounding out the cast. The narrative is set over the course of one night and the following morning in both Los Angeles and Las Vegas, unfolding the events after an amateur drug deal in loosely connected though largely unrelated story threads that all come back together in unexpected ways at the end.  It’s black comedy hyper-fiction told with sincere but hilarious dialogue, slick cinematography, and snappy editing.  …All supported by a very coming combination of electronica score and Techno/Ambient standards (like Massive Attack’s “Angel” and Air’s “Talisman”).

Roger Ebert states that the narrative “takes place entirely in Tarantino-land,” followed up with, “I’m not saying ‘Go’ couldn’t have been made without the example of Pulp Fiction, but it can’t be seen without thinking of it.”  James Berardinelli cites “an over-reliance on Tarantino”.

While I definitely see the connections, I felt the film was certainly fresh enough on its own that it doesn’t have to  be an homage to Tarantino.  It is its own story, and while the story-telling may be similar, at some point in time, we must recognise that multi-faceted portraits of the underbelly of society with unlikely anti-heroes, witty dialogue, and quirky, unexpected but perfect twists is a genre all on its own: Go; Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels; Snatch; Suicide Kings; and numerous other films since Pulp Fiction litter the cinematic landscape, and I don’t think we need to all credit one man, visionary though he may be.  I call it the “dark caper tragicomedy”.

I suppose that in 1999, the 1994 Pulp Fiction was too fresh to recognise that a legitimate sub-genre had been born and that it’s perfectly fine to artfully produce a film in that genre without “breaking new ground”.

Berardinelli does make a good point about the pacing of the third act being a little off, and the humour is of a completely different nature: it’s that awkward-silence humour like you experience nowadays on The Office.

In the end, though, I was quite entertained by the entire oeuvre, and what strikes me today, beyond the unusual mixture of grit and polish, was the look into the late ’90s rave scene.  I haven’t been to a rave since about the same time-frame in which the film is set (1999), and it was… well… filmed exactly as I remember it.

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The Mac at 25 - CNET News

January 24th, 2009

A collection of very well written articles looking back at the early days of Macintosh and the significance of Apple (through their first heyday, their almost-demise, and their resurgence) over the past 25 years.

The Mac at 25 - CNET News

Macintosh is 25 years old today…  Happy Birthday!

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The value of judiciously selecting food

January 23rd, 2009

Over the last couple weeks, my entire attitude about nutrition has changed.  A few nights ago, I observed how much time I was spending trying to buy yogurt.  In the end, there wasn’t a single one-serving yogurt container in the store I could eat (and this was at Whole Foods!).  I was momentarily dismayed, not by the lack of availability of something worth introducing into my digestive system, but rather the time I was spending making a decision.

Then I thought about how conscientious I am about other decisions that are important to me. When I buy a DVD, I make sure it’s the best edition availabile: 2-disc, commentaries, DTS, whatever.  when buying my camera, I researched it for about five weeks before making the purchase; any new piece of technology, I research and I compare (and I save up).  sometimes by the time I’m “ready” to buy, it’s no longer the best choice, and so I wait even longer (the main reason why I’ve been “in the market for a new TV” since August 2000).

I think of my folks, both of whose cars are performance vehicles: they pay more of 93-Octane gas and do it gladly, because it makes a difference; and if they had to go out of their way to find a station that supplied it, they’d do it without complaint.  shouldn’t I treat my body the same way?  Unlike my nine-year-old truck, if I treat it like a performance machine, it will actually become one.

Therefor, it’s not wasted time being judicious about what fuels I introduce into my body’s energy pipeline.

Twitter records real-time unfolding of collective consciousness during an historic event

January 23rd, 2009

This is the first time I’ve seen something that made me feel like I could see the way technology and data connect us together since NASA published it’s “Earthlights” image as their Photo of the Day on November 21, 2000:

I finally created a Twitter account the other day, but since I have a pretty dumb phone, using Twitter isn’t much of an experience for me yet.  I get most of my microblogging satisfaction from Facebook at this juncture.  But, the Twitter phenomenon really intrigues me as a point of social moment and also as an evolution of business and marketing.  I’ve been reading a lot about it, and it really fascinates me.

Those who know me well know that I’m a fan of the work of Edward Tufte (author of The Visual Display of Quantitative Information and Yale University Professor Emeritus of Information Design, among other things).  So, seeing inventive ways of telling a story with data always excites me. In watching this short video tracing Twitter “tweets” through the day preceding, of, and after President Obama’s Inauguration, where the tweets have the word “inauguration” in a positive context, I feel like I’m seeing a storytelling technique of such genius as I’ve never seen before.  Now, certainly this is a video, meaning that the display of the information incorporates the dimension of time as a primary component of the display, so comparing it to amazing, static demonstrations of displaying quantitative information is not apples to apples.  But nonetheless, I am floored by the story this simple display tells.  I feel like the Information Age has truly arrived.

A brief while after the event itself took place, we can visualise the social consciousness of a nation and a world collectively focusing on the event and its significance.  Talk about Collective Soul.  I’m a staunch Individualist, but this captures the essence of Obama’s vision of people investing in something larger than themselves in an aptly poetic way.

This video is hosted at Flowing Data, a site dedicated to the visualisation of data.  Here’s an excellent article on what they consider to be “the best of” that field for last year.

Untitled

January 22nd, 2009

Nancy: This is not what I had in mind.
Guillermo: Act of God, baby. Fire’s part of nature.
Nancy: An act of stupidity; those are people’s  homes.
Guillermo: FEMA’s gonna set them up at the Mariot–they’re gonna get room service for two months.  Premium cable.  And they’ll come back, see it all built up, bigger, brighter. Then God’s gonna burn it down again. Cuz’ they don’t belong here in the first place. And the whole thing starts over.  It’s the circle of life.
Nancy: Hakuna Matata.  MY hosue is about to burn to the ground.
Guillermo: You got insurance?
Nancy: My weed is about  to burn to the ground; my customer base is about to burn to the ground. For that, I don’t have insurance.  Couldn’t get them to offer me a Drug Dealer Loss of Product policy.
Guillermo: Then it’s a sign.
N: Sign?
Guillermo: That it’s time to move on. That you don’t belong here.  This is not your home.
Nancy: What happened to the bikers?
Guillermo: They’re moving on, too.  But I don’t think your paths are gonna cross.
Nancy: What am I going to do?
Guillermo: Eh, you’re white; you’re smart, pretty.
Nancy: Yeah, I’ll think of somethin’, huh? Fuck you, that’s my entire life–all that.
Guillermo: “Entire life!”  C’mon… this is one tiny valley. Over the hill, there’s another one just like it. Then another hill, and then another valley… And it goes like that, just over and over. All the way south to Mexico.
Nancy (whispers): You’re facing west.
Guillermo: See, I could use you. You tell me which way is south. You could be my navigator.
Nancy: Hand off the ass. (pauses) Thanks you… for the muscle… sorry I cant–pay you. Not my fault, is it?
Guillermo: I bring a lot of morta across the border.
Nancy: No.  I’m not selling for you; I’m nobody’s bitch any more.
Guillermo: Nah… we take you off the sales floor, that’s for little people. Navigator… I get stuck in traffic a lot.
Nancy: Traffic?
Guillermo: Which one is your house?
Nancy: That one. No, it’s that one?… Idunno, it’s over there, somewhere.
Guillermo: Maybe the fire won’t get there.  You could stay here forever.

Nancy: Gotta go.