The original BBC television series "The Office" debuted in 2001 and ended in 2003, but thanks to Netflix, I just finished watching it last night (actually, early this morning). Yes, there is a current American iteration on NBC that is doing quite well in the ratings, but I wanted to understand what the quiet little fuss over the original was all about. Plus, it is not very likely that I will dedicate extra time to a sitcom, so since I essentially had to choose between the original and the follow-up, it was the Brit version for me. (My recent appreciation of certain other aspects of British pop culture had little to do with my decision; that would just be pretentious.)
First, the disclaimers. If you have never liked British comedies, if you found Monty Python to be a noisy mess, if you think "Shaun of the Dead" was only a sub-par slasher flick, the BBC "The Office" may not be for you. If watching a show that is ostensibly in English with subtitles on is too much work (or, ahem, if you can't see the subtitles clearly), this is definitely not the show for you. If awkward silences caused by unforgivably offensive buffoonery make you watch the TV through your fingers, cringing ... well, you might just enjoy this.
The premise is relatively simple, and has been followed many times before: workers in an office, whose actual work is of little consequence and may actually be sucking their souls away on a daily basis, must put up with a distressingly self-important manager while trying to preserve little shreds of their humanity in any way they can. The blunderbuss boss, played by Ricky Gervais, is an astonishingly indecorous boor, whose tragic flaw is that he believes he is making his employees' lives better by trying to be their friend, when he is actually a spectacularly inept, corporate-speak-spouting insecure little man. It is not an understatement to say that Gervais' David Brent is a classic character in television history for the depth of his self-delusion and cringe-inducing attempts to explain himself and his philosophies. Admittedly, part of the jaw dropping effect of Gervais' portrayal comes from the occasional jarring crudity that both British culture and British television permit as a matter of course (fair warning: I do mean crude; if you blush easily, this may not be the show for you). However, while the British expression of the uncouth may be outlandish to America ears, there is certainly an equivalent in American life; the slang may be different, but the sentiment translates perfectly.
The supporting cast is relatively small, with a number of essentially nameless office drones and a few well-drawn featured roles. Brent's sycophantic deputy, Gareth, is a particularly memorable character, almost horrifying in his inability to filter his base impulses. Like Brent, he trudges through life seemingly unaware of what others think of him.
The surprising element of the show, however, is the office romance between Tim, the relatively sane fellow who graduated university a few years ago, is holding down a respectable job in the office, but can't quite figure out what to do next, and Dawn, the pretty receptionist who is engaged to a lunkhead from the warehouse who is (of course) unworthy of her. While the unrequited office romance is a relatively stock trope, it is handled here with great delicacy and charm, which is all the more sweet in the midst of the prevalent indelicacy surrounding them. The furtive glances, the gentle touch to the arm that only the would-be lovers think appears innocuous, the emotional charge in the few unexpected moments of connection ... the show plays it all to perfection by underplaying all of it.
The documentary style of the filmmaking relieves the show of the need to add cue music or audience laughter, which allows the many awkward moments (the show's stock in trade) to fester without an external auditory break to relieve the tension. The camera also has the freedom to close in on Brent, in particular, allowing him to fill the screen with his nonsense as he speaks to the viewer, wherein his explanation of his actions inevitably leave him looking the worse for it. The show also uses a long zoom shot to good effect, capturing the reaction of the entire room as well as the actions of others from afar, heightening the voyeristic feel of the viewer's intrusion into often very private moments.
That's a lot to say about a silly little sitcom that ran only 14 episodes. However, it is rare that a television show will introduce characters that are this memorable, most of whom are simply slightly more pained and painful versions of people we know rather than cartoons played for slapstick laughs. The BBC's "The Office" is certainly not for everyone. It is often uncomfortable, and nearly impossible to understand without subtitles, but if you like that sort of thing (and if you like a nice romance, surprisingly enough), it is well worth the time.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Saturday, February 17, 2007
A Riviera Review
HDTV may have raised the bar considerably when it comes to experiencing sporting events from your living room, but nothing compares to going to a sporting event in person. Golf, in particular, is so well packaged on television that attending a tournament in person is quite unlike watching the same event on TV. If you enjoy golf at all, making the effort to go to a professional tournament in person is well worth the time and expense. (Warning: this is long, so you should probably tune out now, Chris.)
We had the opportunity to spend the day at the Riviera Country Club watching the PGA Tour's Nissan Open. In 80-something degree weather, we experienced much of what a golf tournament has to offer. Amidst the fragrant eucalyptus groves, we saw wiley veterans execute deft chips, young guns crush fairway bombs, superstars remind us why they are, and unknowns show us why they deserve to be on the Tour. We joined huge crowds that reduced our vision to a mere sliver of the action, stood nearly alone only seconds later simply by switching holes, heard the distant roar that told of a hole-in-one, and helped create roars of our own with several thousand other viewers in the natural amphitheater of the 18th green.
Among the highlights: we started our day in the middle of the first fairway, and followed the second group we saw (which included PGA winner Steve Elkington and British Open winner Ben Curtis) to the green. We found an open spot along the rope behind the green away from the pin. Serendipitously, however, it seemed that any player who missed the green long sent their ball right at us. In very short order, we made way for Corey Pavin, Sergio Garcia and Padraig Harrington, all of whom were forced to make difficult chips out of an uneven, tamped-down lie, over a rise to a hole tucked just on the other side of the hillock on a very fast green. Pavin made a brilliant, full swing flop shot, Harrington had a middling effort, and Garcia fluffed his first attempt, failing to get it out of the rough (he parred the whole anyway, though). For each of these events, we were within six feet of the player at times.
After the final group played through, we explored the course a bit. As soon as the huge crowd that followed the leading Phil Mickelson dispersed, we found ourselves moments later nearly alone at the 11th green watching two relative unknowns putt out. On our way to the back end of the course, we paused to watch Jeff Quinney, a Tour rookie who has been in contention for the Sunday lead in three tournaments already this year, absolutely crush a fairway wood to reach the 11th green, a par five, in two shots. The casual grace with which Quinney and one of his playing partners executed this terribly difficult shot is a clear indication at how skilled these guys are. If the ball ever comes off of any of my clubs with the kind of power and sound that these players generate, I'll quit my job and take up golf full time.
We spent a few minutes in the small grandstand at the par three 14th hole, long enough to watch Mike Weir clear the green, toss aside a television microphone embedded in the green, make a nice chip onto the putting surface, then two-putt for a disappointing bogey. On our way once again, we stopped along an adjacent fairway just in time to see Jim Furyk and Ernie Els, whom we had seen a little while earlier at the first hole, play masterful iron shots into the seventh green. On we went to the par three 6th hole at the very end of the property, with its unique bunkered green. We arrived two groups ahead of Mickelson's threesome. We watched the players hit over our heads, then juked and dived for a view of the green as the players finished the hole.
We proceeded away from the huge gallery following Phil, hiking nearly alone up the hill along the 5th hole, stopping under a tree by ourselves to watch a couple of groups hit their approach shots down the hill to the 5th green. Then we continued up the hill to park ourselves for a while at the famous par three 4th hole. At this point, only the players who were well down the leader board were playing the low-numbered holes, because they had all started their day on the 10th hole, and were now into their last nine holes of the day. Nevertheless, we had excellent green-side seats on the grass near the hole to watch several groups come through. We had the opportunity to see how creative professional golfers can be. The 4th hole is a long par three guarded by a fearsome bunker in front. Most of the shots we saw trickled off the back into a collection area. From that location, we saw players hit high flops, low pitches, running chips, putts with drivers, and conventional putts. Amazingly, no one method was any less successful than any other.
Finally, we grabbed some lunch and followed Vijay Singh up the 18th fairway to the bowl-like 18th green, where we parked ourselves and watched the leading six groups finish their day. There I saw more evidence that these guys are not like you and I. A relatively unknown player, John Rollins, had pushed his drive into a grove of eucalyptus trees, which blocked his route to the green both laterally and vertically. His only direct play was right at us on the hillside, which would do little to improve his score. While the player in me conceded and prepared for some sort of short sideways play, Rollins hit the perfect shot: a controlled slice that never rose more than twenty feet above the ground, touched down on the apron in front of the green and rolled to a stop two feet from the hole after missing the pin by about an inch. All of this from 200 yards away. Incredible.
The opportunity to get close to the action in unexpected places is a key feature of a golf tournament experience. Television does not show you how close the various holes are to each other, that just beyond the huge gallery watching the featured player is a completely open greenside where another supremely talented golfer plies his trade in near anonymity, that the bunkers are truly frightening (if you are a casual golfer, you have never seen anything like these man-eaters), that the players engage in easy banter with each other and the crowd. For those who do not enjoy golf in any form, attending a tournament will not likely cause a change of heart. But for those who enjoy the game, watching a tournament in person is fun and illuminating.
And as always with golf, even on its worst day, if nothing else it is still a walk in a beautiful park.
We had the opportunity to spend the day at the Riviera Country Club watching the PGA Tour's Nissan Open. In 80-something degree weather, we experienced much of what a golf tournament has to offer. Amidst the fragrant eucalyptus groves, we saw wiley veterans execute deft chips, young guns crush fairway bombs, superstars remind us why they are, and unknowns show us why they deserve to be on the Tour. We joined huge crowds that reduced our vision to a mere sliver of the action, stood nearly alone only seconds later simply by switching holes, heard the distant roar that told of a hole-in-one, and helped create roars of our own with several thousand other viewers in the natural amphitheater of the 18th green.
Among the highlights: we started our day in the middle of the first fairway, and followed the second group we saw (which included PGA winner Steve Elkington and British Open winner Ben Curtis) to the green. We found an open spot along the rope behind the green away from the pin. Serendipitously, however, it seemed that any player who missed the green long sent their ball right at us. In very short order, we made way for Corey Pavin, Sergio Garcia and Padraig Harrington, all of whom were forced to make difficult chips out of an uneven, tamped-down lie, over a rise to a hole tucked just on the other side of the hillock on a very fast green. Pavin made a brilliant, full swing flop shot, Harrington had a middling effort, and Garcia fluffed his first attempt, failing to get it out of the rough (he parred the whole anyway, though). For each of these events, we were within six feet of the player at times.
After the final group played through, we explored the course a bit. As soon as the huge crowd that followed the leading Phil Mickelson dispersed, we found ourselves moments later nearly alone at the 11th green watching two relative unknowns putt out. On our way to the back end of the course, we paused to watch Jeff Quinney, a Tour rookie who has been in contention for the Sunday lead in three tournaments already this year, absolutely crush a fairway wood to reach the 11th green, a par five, in two shots. The casual grace with which Quinney and one of his playing partners executed this terribly difficult shot is a clear indication at how skilled these guys are. If the ball ever comes off of any of my clubs with the kind of power and sound that these players generate, I'll quit my job and take up golf full time.
We spent a few minutes in the small grandstand at the par three 14th hole, long enough to watch Mike Weir clear the green, toss aside a television microphone embedded in the green, make a nice chip onto the putting surface, then two-putt for a disappointing bogey. On our way once again, we stopped along an adjacent fairway just in time to see Jim Furyk and Ernie Els, whom we had seen a little while earlier at the first hole, play masterful iron shots into the seventh green. On we went to the par three 6th hole at the very end of the property, with its unique bunkered green. We arrived two groups ahead of Mickelson's threesome. We watched the players hit over our heads, then juked and dived for a view of the green as the players finished the hole.
We proceeded away from the huge gallery following Phil, hiking nearly alone up the hill along the 5th hole, stopping under a tree by ourselves to watch a couple of groups hit their approach shots down the hill to the 5th green. Then we continued up the hill to park ourselves for a while at the famous par three 4th hole. At this point, only the players who were well down the leader board were playing the low-numbered holes, because they had all started their day on the 10th hole, and were now into their last nine holes of the day. Nevertheless, we had excellent green-side seats on the grass near the hole to watch several groups come through. We had the opportunity to see how creative professional golfers can be. The 4th hole is a long par three guarded by a fearsome bunker in front. Most of the shots we saw trickled off the back into a collection area. From that location, we saw players hit high flops, low pitches, running chips, putts with drivers, and conventional putts. Amazingly, no one method was any less successful than any other.
Finally, we grabbed some lunch and followed Vijay Singh up the 18th fairway to the bowl-like 18th green, where we parked ourselves and watched the leading six groups finish their day. There I saw more evidence that these guys are not like you and I. A relatively unknown player, John Rollins, had pushed his drive into a grove of eucalyptus trees, which blocked his route to the green both laterally and vertically. His only direct play was right at us on the hillside, which would do little to improve his score. While the player in me conceded and prepared for some sort of short sideways play, Rollins hit the perfect shot: a controlled slice that never rose more than twenty feet above the ground, touched down on the apron in front of the green and rolled to a stop two feet from the hole after missing the pin by about an inch. All of this from 200 yards away. Incredible.
The opportunity to get close to the action in unexpected places is a key feature of a golf tournament experience. Television does not show you how close the various holes are to each other, that just beyond the huge gallery watching the featured player is a completely open greenside where another supremely talented golfer plies his trade in near anonymity, that the bunkers are truly frightening (if you are a casual golfer, you have never seen anything like these man-eaters), that the players engage in easy banter with each other and the crowd. For those who do not enjoy golf in any form, attending a tournament will not likely cause a change of heart. But for those who enjoy the game, watching a tournament in person is fun and illuminating.
And as always with golf, even on its worst day, if nothing else it is still a walk in a beautiful park.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Silence on the Tee, Please
So this is where we will spend tomorrow, under a beautiful February SoCal sky:
(That's Riviera Country Club. They're having a little get together this weekend.)
(That's Riviera Country Club. They're having a little get together this weekend.)
Sunday, February 11, 2007
The Needle Finder
I love the internet. There is almost no question that cannot be answered (as long as you are comfortable with an answer that may not be, um, factually correct), and almost no product that cannot be found.
This weekend, I indulged myself by getting a container for my guitar effects pedals. For the uninitiated, the sound of a guitar can be tweaked through the use of little foot pedals that electronically manipulate the sound. These pedals are fun, but they all must be wired together, and they all require power. Unless you are Mr. Duracell, a DC converter is the only way to go. When you have several pedals, though, a powerstrip is required just to provide power to all of the converters needed for the various effects pedals, to say nothing of the snake pit of power and signal wires that results. Portability is also hamped by this arrangement, as all the pedals, wires, cables and converters must be toted in some kind of container, and then must be tediously pieced together before playing. Thankfully, it is possible to buy a travel-worthy case that not only carries the pedals, but keeps them permanently hooked up for both signal and power, with only a single converter powering the whole thing. As is the case with some of my new modeling tools, I've wanted one of these things since I was sixteen, and I finally got it.
As in many markets, however, logic does not always prevail in the land of effects pedals. Although the case comes with a "daisy chain" to provide power to all of the pedals, not all pedals take the same kind of adaptor connection. The case, made by Boss, is well-equipped to handle pedals made by Boss pedals as well as contemporary pedals of other manufacturers. Unfortunately, not only is one of my pedals not made by Boss, it is also about 20 years old. So, then, the search begins. Is there such a thing as an adaptor adaptor, as it were? And if so, where can I buy such a thing?
Enter my pal, Google. After a few different searches, I finally found an online retailer that sold a DC converter that not only had a daisy chain of connnectors, but also had a variety of adaptors for the various different kinds of DC sockets that various manufacturers use. The problem, of course, is that I did not need the whole converter outfit, just one of the adaptors. So I tracked down the manufacturer's website, and sure enough, they sell the adaptors separately. Four dollars (plus six for shipping) later, I have a six inch adaptor cable on its way to me, the perfect solution to my problem.
This weekend, I indulged myself by getting a container for my guitar effects pedals. For the uninitiated, the sound of a guitar can be tweaked through the use of little foot pedals that electronically manipulate the sound. These pedals are fun, but they all must be wired together, and they all require power. Unless you are Mr. Duracell, a DC converter is the only way to go. When you have several pedals, though, a powerstrip is required just to provide power to all of the converters needed for the various effects pedals, to say nothing of the snake pit of power and signal wires that results. Portability is also hamped by this arrangement, as all the pedals, wires, cables and converters must be toted in some kind of container, and then must be tediously pieced together before playing. Thankfully, it is possible to buy a travel-worthy case that not only carries the pedals, but keeps them permanently hooked up for both signal and power, with only a single converter powering the whole thing. As is the case with some of my new modeling tools, I've wanted one of these things since I was sixteen, and I finally got it.
As in many markets, however, logic does not always prevail in the land of effects pedals. Although the case comes with a "daisy chain" to provide power to all of the pedals, not all pedals take the same kind of adaptor connection. The case, made by Boss, is well-equipped to handle pedals made by Boss pedals as well as contemporary pedals of other manufacturers. Unfortunately, not only is one of my pedals not made by Boss, it is also about 20 years old. So, then, the search begins. Is there such a thing as an adaptor adaptor, as it were? And if so, where can I buy such a thing?
Enter my pal, Google. After a few different searches, I finally found an online retailer that sold a DC converter that not only had a daisy chain of connnectors, but also had a variety of adaptors for the various different kinds of DC sockets that various manufacturers use. The problem, of course, is that I did not need the whole converter outfit, just one of the adaptors. So I tracked down the manufacturer's website, and sure enough, they sell the adaptors separately. Four dollars (plus six for shipping) later, I have a six inch adaptor cable on its way to me, the perfect solution to my problem.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Peace In Our Time
At last, the news we have been waiting so long to hear ...
Apple and The Beatles have settled their trademark dispute, for the third time. As you may recall, Apple's expansion of its business into music quasi-publishing prompted the Fab Four's business managers to file suit for breach of the last trademark agreement between the two companies, a lawsuit that Apple eventually won at trial. Although Apple now has clear permission to use its name and logo, even in connection with iTunes (Apple's expansion into music quasi-publishing prompted the band's most recent lawsuit), it is not yet known whether The Beatles will finally consent to place their recordings on iTunes for downloading. Steve Jobs' rollout of the iPhone last month included lots of Beatles references; as with the very name "iPhone," and as with the use of the name "Macintosh" before it, Jobs has promised something that his lawyers will have to buy for him after the fact. Ah, well, you know, he's a visionary. One mustn't let the vagaries of intellectual property ownership law confound his muse.
Apple and The Beatles have settled their trademark dispute, for the third time. As you may recall, Apple's expansion of its business into music quasi-publishing prompted the Fab Four's business managers to file suit for breach of the last trademark agreement between the two companies, a lawsuit that Apple eventually won at trial. Although Apple now has clear permission to use its name and logo, even in connection with iTunes (Apple's expansion into music quasi-publishing prompted the band's most recent lawsuit), it is not yet known whether The Beatles will finally consent to place their recordings on iTunes for downloading. Steve Jobs' rollout of the iPhone last month included lots of Beatles references; as with the very name "iPhone," and as with the use of the name "Macintosh" before it, Jobs has promised something that his lawyers will have to buy for him after the fact. Ah, well, you know, he's a visionary. One mustn't let the vagaries of intellectual property ownership law confound his muse.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
You Can Go Home Again, A Little Bit
My main contribution to Michael's Christmas was a plastic model kit. After all, what little boy doesn't like to build cars out of fragile pieces of plastic? I was excited about it, anyway, since building model cars was one of my main hobbies as a kid.
After our adventures with Legos, Michael enjoyed snapping the Corvette together.
I think I enjoyed a little more than he did, though.
As I suspected might happen, building a model again inspired me to work through some of the unbuilt kits I've had for years. We managed to find a great little table at IKEA that fits into the only remaining corner we have, and it even has a little shelf under the tabletop, a perfect platform for serious model building. One quick trip to the hobby shop for paints, brushes and knives and I was all ready to go.
The interesting development is that I can now afford to spend a couple of dollars on really good brushes, so I no longer have to paint details with shaved toothpicks (which never really worked that well). I'm also ready to attempt the proper sanding techniques for multiple coats of spray paint, something I had never attempted in the past.
As for my subject, there really was only one choice:
Paint and assembly is about half complete. Stay tuned.
After our adventures with Legos, Michael enjoyed snapping the Corvette together.
I think I enjoyed a little more than he did, though.
As I suspected might happen, building a model again inspired me to work through some of the unbuilt kits I've had for years. We managed to find a great little table at IKEA that fits into the only remaining corner we have, and it even has a little shelf under the tabletop, a perfect platform for serious model building. One quick trip to the hobby shop for paints, brushes and knives and I was all ready to go.
The interesting development is that I can now afford to spend a couple of dollars on really good brushes, so I no longer have to paint details with shaved toothpicks (which never really worked that well). I'm also ready to attempt the proper sanding techniques for multiple coats of spray paint, something I had never attempted in the past.
As for my subject, there really was only one choice:
Paint and assembly is about half complete. Stay tuned.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
More Adventures in Legislation
While I may not be a Birkenstock-and-hemp-shawl-wearing Greenie, I have a basic appreciation for conservation and recycling. Curbside recycling began when I was a kid, and I think it makes a lot of sense. Just about everywhere I have worked, the company or building has had a recycling program in place. I feel a twinge of guilt every time I put a piece of paper in the trash instead of a recycling container. Most people of my generation and younger now view recycling as a usual and ordinary part of life. We have adapted well to the new paradigm.
Our conservation practices, however, are voluntary. The local government has made recycling opportunities available, and by and large, we have taken advantage of them. The state has put a bounty on soda cans and an incentive to recycle, and we respond.
What I have difficulty accepting, however, is a governmental mandate to achieve the same result. In the spirit of our former Governor Moonbeam, a local politician has authored a bill outlawing incandescent lightbulbs. Just because someone reported on the Today show that compact fluorescent bulbs are starting to sell in greater numbers does not make it a good idea to require their use exclusively. Fluorescent bulbs do not come close to matching the variety in size and wattages available in incandescents (good luck with those little bulbs you find in cars, flashlights and other small application). Fluorescent bulbs can have a mild-to-serious effect on health (everything from eyestrain and headaches to seizures in those prone to such things). And speaking of recycling, have you ever tried to dispose of a fluorescent bulb? That's right, you can't. You can't even recycle them in a normal manner. Why? Because they contain a nasty little beastie called mercury. A typical fluorescent bult contains about 20 milligrams of mercury; 1 gram is sufficient to contaminate a 2-acre pond. Currently, about 800 million fluorescent bulbs are discarded each year, yielding enough loose mercury to potentially contaminate 20 million acres of water.
None of this is to say that reducing energy consumption is a bad thing. Also, recycling works for fluorescent lights. Unfortunately, to prevent a much more serious environmental problem than the downstream effects of the extra energy required to power incandescent lights, careful and costly recycling programs must be used. The better policy, it seems to me, would be to provide incentives to use more energy-efficient devices (appliances, including Toyota Priuses, have enjoyed this advantage for years), rather than to compel the use of one particular technology. The best result, of course, would be for manufacturers to develop and sell more efficient products that are attractive to the consumer for that reason in particular. In recent years, this has started to happen on a broad scale (again, see the Prius). Before long, we may have LED flashlights and fluorescent chandeliers, but I would hope it is because people want them, not because they will have no choice.
Our conservation practices, however, are voluntary. The local government has made recycling opportunities available, and by and large, we have taken advantage of them. The state has put a bounty on soda cans and an incentive to recycle, and we respond.
What I have difficulty accepting, however, is a governmental mandate to achieve the same result. In the spirit of our former Governor Moonbeam, a local politician has authored a bill outlawing incandescent lightbulbs. Just because someone reported on the Today show that compact fluorescent bulbs are starting to sell in greater numbers does not make it a good idea to require their use exclusively. Fluorescent bulbs do not come close to matching the variety in size and wattages available in incandescents (good luck with those little bulbs you find in cars, flashlights and other small application). Fluorescent bulbs can have a mild-to-serious effect on health (everything from eyestrain and headaches to seizures in those prone to such things). And speaking of recycling, have you ever tried to dispose of a fluorescent bulb? That's right, you can't. You can't even recycle them in a normal manner. Why? Because they contain a nasty little beastie called mercury. A typical fluorescent bult contains about 20 milligrams of mercury; 1 gram is sufficient to contaminate a 2-acre pond. Currently, about 800 million fluorescent bulbs are discarded each year, yielding enough loose mercury to potentially contaminate 20 million acres of water.
None of this is to say that reducing energy consumption is a bad thing. Also, recycling works for fluorescent lights. Unfortunately, to prevent a much more serious environmental problem than the downstream effects of the extra energy required to power incandescent lights, careful and costly recycling programs must be used. The better policy, it seems to me, would be to provide incentives to use more energy-efficient devices (appliances, including Toyota Priuses, have enjoyed this advantage for years), rather than to compel the use of one particular technology. The best result, of course, would be for manufacturers to develop and sell more efficient products that are attractive to the consumer for that reason in particular. In recent years, this has started to happen on a broad scale (again, see the Prius). Before long, we may have LED flashlights and fluorescent chandeliers, but I would hope it is because people want them, not because they will have no choice.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Legomania
Michael received a bunch of Lego kits for his birthday and Christmas. Whether he was ready or not, he had graduated from the hamster-sized pieces of Duplos down to the ladybug-sized pieces of the real Lego kits. I thought it was all pretty neat, since I had always wanted Legos when I was a kid (and never got any ... no long term issues there, nope), but I was reluctant to open Michael's kits, since I imagined a multicolored blizzard of tiny plastic pieces stewn across several rooms and ingested into the bowels of the vacuum cleaners.
Michael insisted however, in that gentle wheedling that turns your thoughts immediately to "Cat's in the Cradle." I didn't want to be that Dad, so I relented. For the first Star Wars kits, I located the right pieces and did most of the construction, following the plans provided. The plans are not the easiest directions in the world, as they essentially force the builder to play the childhood game of "figure out how this drawing differs from the one just before it." If you can figure out what pieces have been added in the new drawing, and where they go, you're doing well.
We built the Star Wars ships without much trouble. Then came the House. Michael received a 600+ piece kit that came with directions to build three different kinds of houses. With this kit, we found a good rhythm in which I would locate the pieces for a building step, and while Michael figured out how to put them together, I would gather the next set of pieces. It took us all of an afternoon to build the first, largest house. It took somewhat less time to build the next house a few days later.
The surprise came last weekend when Michael pulled out yet another new set of Legos, this one of a variety of cars and trucks. Unlike the house, this kit was nothing but small, intricate pieces and design. He never even came to me; Michael built all of the cars completely on his own, and even designed a couple of new ones. Then he rebuilt the house into the third of its designs, again without anybody's help. I can't help but be proud of his work:
Michael insisted however, in that gentle wheedling that turns your thoughts immediately to "Cat's in the Cradle." I didn't want to be that Dad, so I relented. For the first Star Wars kits, I located the right pieces and did most of the construction, following the plans provided. The plans are not the easiest directions in the world, as they essentially force the builder to play the childhood game of "figure out how this drawing differs from the one just before it." If you can figure out what pieces have been added in the new drawing, and where they go, you're doing well.
We built the Star Wars ships without much trouble. Then came the House. Michael received a 600+ piece kit that came with directions to build three different kinds of houses. With this kit, we found a good rhythm in which I would locate the pieces for a building step, and while Michael figured out how to put them together, I would gather the next set of pieces. It took us all of an afternoon to build the first, largest house. It took somewhat less time to build the next house a few days later.
The surprise came last weekend when Michael pulled out yet another new set of Legos, this one of a variety of cars and trucks. Unlike the house, this kit was nothing but small, intricate pieces and design. He never even came to me; Michael built all of the cars completely on his own, and even designed a couple of new ones. Then he rebuilt the house into the third of its designs, again without anybody's help. I can't help but be proud of his work:
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Good Neighbor?
State Farm has finally seen the light. Hundreds of Mississippi policyholders sued State Farm after the insurer partially or fully refused to pay claims following hurricane Katrina. Two weeks ago, one of those policyholders won his case in federal court, and was awarded $2.5 million on top of the funds required to pay for the destroyed house.
Today, State Farm entered into an agreement with the attorney general of Mississippi to resolve the many outstanding claims. The Reuters article linked here is somewhat misleading, however. The writer says that State Farm has agreed to "resolve" the hundreds of pending claims. In this instance, "resolve" does not mean that State Farm is going to pay every claim. Those insureds that have already sued will receive settlements averaging about $125,000 per claimant. However, for those insureds who have not already sued, it appears that under the terms of the agreement, State Farm will re-examine each claim, and if the policyholders disagree with State Farm's conclusions, they may submit the matter to binding arbitration.
Although State Farm will surely hear about the lawsuit victory from every insured, the effect of that judgment has been significantly blunted. State Farm gains at least one very important concession by this agreement: no claim may be brought into court, which is an inherent characteristic of binding arbitration (absent very unusual circumstances). Also, although I am not privy to the terms of the agreement, I suspect that the only issues that may be arbitrated are those pertaining to the substance of the claim itself, and that State Farm's claims handling practices are no longer part of the equation. If this is so, State Farm has also now insulated itself from claims of bad faith claims handling, which is the foundation for punitive damages awards. That's a good day for State Farm, for both PR and the bottom line.
Today, State Farm entered into an agreement with the attorney general of Mississippi to resolve the many outstanding claims. The Reuters article linked here is somewhat misleading, however. The writer says that State Farm has agreed to "resolve" the hundreds of pending claims. In this instance, "resolve" does not mean that State Farm is going to pay every claim. Those insureds that have already sued will receive settlements averaging about $125,000 per claimant. However, for those insureds who have not already sued, it appears that under the terms of the agreement, State Farm will re-examine each claim, and if the policyholders disagree with State Farm's conclusions, they may submit the matter to binding arbitration.
Although State Farm will surely hear about the lawsuit victory from every insured, the effect of that judgment has been significantly blunted. State Farm gains at least one very important concession by this agreement: no claim may be brought into court, which is an inherent characteristic of binding arbitration (absent very unusual circumstances). Also, although I am not privy to the terms of the agreement, I suspect that the only issues that may be arbitrated are those pertaining to the substance of the claim itself, and that State Farm's claims handling practices are no longer part of the equation. If this is so, State Farm has also now insulated itself from claims of bad faith claims handling, which is the foundation for punitive damages awards. That's a good day for State Farm, for both PR and the bottom line.
Monday, January 22, 2007
My Life As A Recording Artist
As a favor to a good friend, I had the opportunity to record some backing vocals to a couple of songs he wrote for an album he is producing. These days, I have a pretty regular singing gig as a part of a team of about six people and as part of the church choir. I have had plenty of experience with choral and small ensemble singing, and I've recently spent a lot of time singing with a microphone as part of the vocal team. However, little of that experience prepared me for the unique demands of a recording studio.
Singing in large rooms is nothing like singing in a small, sonically dead recording studio. Freedom of movement (a big issue for me, as I tend to be a bit physically active when singing) is inhibited, because the microphone does not move. Interaction with other singers, something I depend upon, is almost eliminated due to the amount of space (if the room is small), the need to sing at a microphone rather than each other, and the strictly controlled access to sound (i.e., you only hear what comes through the headphones). Finally, the microphone takes away the buffer for imprecision that one imagines exists in a live environment. The studio microphones capture every subtle nuance, which, for someone of my talent level, must be read as "every glaring error." Those errors may be things only I or others with highly critical ears can hear, but there is no hiding from them.
The end result, for the singer inexperienced with studio work, is a very inhibited feeling that takes some time to shrug off. It is axiomatic, however, that time is money in a studio, and lots of it. In our case, time was simply time, but the effect was the same. Every moment in the studio costs something -- usually it is lots of money; in our case, it was a limited budget of time to get everything done. Consequently, the singer does not have the luxury of extended rehearsal. We were sufficiently rehearsed musically, but I felt that I was not rehearsed sufficiently under the technical conditions that existed. I recall feeling the same way some years ago when I began to sing more often on microphones. I have adapted since then, and I am sure that I would learn to cope with the unique challenges presented by the studio environment, but it is surprisingly difficult to jump right in and do one's best work. Thankfully, I think we all eventually produced some pretty good sound in the end. And the buzz of being in a recording studio provided enough incentive and adrenaline to push to do the job right, no matter how uncomfortable I was initially.
The thrill of being in a recording studio applied even though it was actually a converted residential garage ... it had all the equipment, sound deadening, computers and microphones. That's the way things are around here. People in other parts of the country store boats, Christmas decorations and lawmowers in their garages. Burbank folks build astonishingly complete recording studios in theirs.
Singing in large rooms is nothing like singing in a small, sonically dead recording studio. Freedom of movement (a big issue for me, as I tend to be a bit physically active when singing) is inhibited, because the microphone does not move. Interaction with other singers, something I depend upon, is almost eliminated due to the amount of space (if the room is small), the need to sing at a microphone rather than each other, and the strictly controlled access to sound (i.e., you only hear what comes through the headphones). Finally, the microphone takes away the buffer for imprecision that one imagines exists in a live environment. The studio microphones capture every subtle nuance, which, for someone of my talent level, must be read as "every glaring error." Those errors may be things only I or others with highly critical ears can hear, but there is no hiding from them.
The end result, for the singer inexperienced with studio work, is a very inhibited feeling that takes some time to shrug off. It is axiomatic, however, that time is money in a studio, and lots of it. In our case, time was simply time, but the effect was the same. Every moment in the studio costs something -- usually it is lots of money; in our case, it was a limited budget of time to get everything done. Consequently, the singer does not have the luxury of extended rehearsal. We were sufficiently rehearsed musically, but I felt that I was not rehearsed sufficiently under the technical conditions that existed. I recall feeling the same way some years ago when I began to sing more often on microphones. I have adapted since then, and I am sure that I would learn to cope with the unique challenges presented by the studio environment, but it is surprisingly difficult to jump right in and do one's best work. Thankfully, I think we all eventually produced some pretty good sound in the end. And the buzz of being in a recording studio provided enough incentive and adrenaline to push to do the job right, no matter how uncomfortable I was initially.
The thrill of being in a recording studio applied even though it was actually a converted residential garage ... it had all the equipment, sound deadening, computers and microphones. That's the way things are around here. People in other parts of the country store boats, Christmas decorations and lawmowers in their garages. Burbank folks build astonishingly complete recording studios in theirs.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Warm Globally, Freeze Locally
Freezing temperatures are all across the news these days, and Southern California has not escaped it. We have not had to suffer freezing rain, but we have had extraordinarily cold conditions. For instance, it was 27 degrees on our way to church this Sunday -- that's cold enough to have some bite, especially for us SoCal denizens for whom a winter jacket is the windbreaker that has the hood. Another sign of unusual cold: snow in LA:
I love this. My oft-stated lament is that SoCal doesn't get cold enough to really give the sensation that winter has arrived. I feel this most profoundly at Thanksgiving and Christmas, which I associate with sweaters, cold cheeks and warm fireplaces. I can't remember how many times I've worn shorts and thrown a football in the yard on those days in the time I've lived here. So this cold stuff is great for my sense of seasonal propriety, although our plants, like so many across the country, aren't enjoying this nearly as much as I am.
I love this. My oft-stated lament is that SoCal doesn't get cold enough to really give the sensation that winter has arrived. I feel this most profoundly at Thanksgiving and Christmas, which I associate with sweaters, cold cheeks and warm fireplaces. I can't remember how many times I've worn shorts and thrown a football in the yard on those days in the time I've lived here. So this cold stuff is great for my sense of seasonal propriety, although our plants, like so many across the country, aren't enjoying this nearly as much as I am.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
December on the California Coast
After spending a few days in San Francisco for Christmas, we took the opportunity to drive back home down 101 through Santa Barbara. We planned to have dinner at our favorite haunt, the Beachside Cafe at Goleta Beach. We timed the trip perfectly, arriving in town to give the kids a quick auto tour of Isla Vista and the UCSB campus in the late afternoon, then heading out to the Goleta pier just before sundown.
After that spectacular display, we went to the restaurant, where we were told that the wait would be an hour and a half. The hostess then looked at us again, said, "just a minute," and disappeared for a few moments. When she came back, she had menus in her hand, and seated us in a side area at a table marked "Reserved." It was just meant to be.
After that spectacular display, we went to the restaurant, where we were told that the wait would be an hour and a half. The hostess then looked at us again, said, "just a minute," and disappeared for a few moments. When she came back, she had menus in her hand, and seated us in a side area at a table marked "Reserved." It was just meant to be.
Friday, January 12, 2007
The Honey-do Project
Since I had a few days off over the New Year's holiday, Cheryl brightly said, "hey, since you have some time, why don't you paint the living room like you've always said you wanted to!" Unassailable logic, that.
The long delayed painting of the living room was in part because the room is thick with window, baseboard and crown moldings. In fact, not one crown molding, but two, just to increase the degree of difficulty.
We picked a color that was part of an Arts & Crafts collection put together by Sherwin-Williams in an effort to stay true to the architectural style of the house. Using more saturated colors, as we have begun to do, is a dicey proposition. If it is wrong, it is really wrong. However, the Hubbard Squash came out just right, we think.
Moving everything to the middle of the room:
Lots of brushwork in this job:
Before:
And after:
A couple of new sconces to match the style completed the transformation:
That ought to take care of the honey-do projects. At least until the next four day weekend.
The long delayed painting of the living room was in part because the room is thick with window, baseboard and crown moldings. In fact, not one crown molding, but two, just to increase the degree of difficulty.
We picked a color that was part of an Arts & Crafts collection put together by Sherwin-Williams in an effort to stay true to the architectural style of the house. Using more saturated colors, as we have begun to do, is a dicey proposition. If it is wrong, it is really wrong. However, the Hubbard Squash came out just right, we think.
Moving everything to the middle of the room:
Lots of brushwork in this job:
Before:
And after:
A couple of new sconces to match the style completed the transformation:
That ought to take care of the honey-do projects. At least until the next four day weekend.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Why Is There So Much Soccer In My News?
Stay with me, friends, and I will lead you to cultural trends before they hit the big time. Remember all that soccer blather from last month? It ain't just me...
Yes, even mainstream news outlets such as MSNBC carried front page stories today of soccer player/marketing icon David Beckham coming to ply his trade in the United States. And if US news organizations are merely taking note, their European counterparts are keeping the story in the sweet spot of the news cycle. Even the august Guardian still has the Beckham story on the front page of its website into early Friday morning in London. Why so much commotion?
It is the same old story: soccer has never really taken off in the US, depite the millions of Americans who have played it as children over the last 30 years. The powers that be in US soccer, in the two eras when soccer had a noticable professional presence in this country, have always sought to bring in the most recognizable foreign players. It is brand recognition, plain and simple. In the 1970's, the New York Cosmos became a white-hot ticket for a brief moment in time by bringing the legendary Pele. Not only did Pele draw the curious to his games, but he drew other past-their-prime international stars to the US as well (Franz Beckenbauer being the most prominent).
The MLS is trying to pull off a similar stunt with Beckham. Critics would argue, with justification, that Beckham is hardly the greatest player in the world, at least not at this stage of his career. Beckham, now 31, rarely plays for his current team, the former powerhouse Real Madrid, and was unceremoniously dumped from the English national team following the World Cup this summer. However, Beckham has the most precious commodity for this day and age: name recognition. His Q rating, as they say, is stratospheric. The fact that a reasonably successful movie named him in its title and involved a young player’s desire to play like him (the enjoyable “Bend It Like Beckham”) certainly helped widen his already wide fame. Most Americans pressed to name a soccer player, if they can name any at all, are likely to identify Pele, perhaps Mia Hamm, and Beckham. If the MLS had its pick of the one player in the world it could bring in to generate interest in its league, Beckham is the guy, without question.
The backlash has already begun in the close-knit locker room that is the American sports fraternity. One of the local sports radio guys, a former NFL player who has never met a generalization he couldn’t embrace, dismissed Beckham as the Anna Kournikova of soccer, referring to the tennis player known equally well for her looks as for her complete lack of professional accomplishments. On this point, sports radio jocks could not be more wrong. Beckham is a pretty boy, certainly, who indulges in all of the trappings of modern fame, and yes, he is married to a former Spice Girl. However, he also earned his fame on the soccer pitch. He played for ten years for arguably the most important English professional team, Manchester United, for whom he played a vital role in six league championships, two all-England championships, and one European championship. As the movie title suggests, his ability to move the ball in the air is legendary, and is the one area of his game that remains at the pinnacle of the sport. Without him, England likely would have been shut out entirely at this summer’s World Cup.
Beckham should bring immediate interest in LA Galaxy games. A lesser halo effect should result for the league as a whole as some of the spectators new to the sport stay interested. An unknown factor is whether he will draw other world-class players (such as the Brazilian superstar Ronaldo) to the MLS as well. It is unlikely that any foreign player at the top of his game will come here, but the fact that a US league is even a topic of conversation in the worldwide soccer community is a giant leap forward.
Ironically, the best American players are making their away out of the country with greater regularity. The English Premier League team Fulham signed Clint Dempsey this week, an exceptional young player just coming into his prime. He will join 13 other players in the Premiership, including two others at Fulham. Until MLS can be seen as a true premier league in its own right, the best players will always play outside this country. The excitement and attention wrought by bringing Beckham in, however, is a first step in that process.
One more thing: Beckham signed for $250,000,000. Yes, a quarter of a billion dollars, over five years. That figure is mostly endorsement money, and reflects the company-town structure of the MLS. Yet, the MLS views this deal as a moneymaker for itself, such is the marketing power than a huge name (think Tiger, Jordan) can weild.
If the Galaxy play a game at the Rose Bowl next season, we’ll be there.
Yes, even mainstream news outlets such as MSNBC carried front page stories today of soccer player/marketing icon David Beckham coming to ply his trade in the United States. And if US news organizations are merely taking note, their European counterparts are keeping the story in the sweet spot of the news cycle. Even the august Guardian still has the Beckham story on the front page of its website into early Friday morning in London. Why so much commotion?
It is the same old story: soccer has never really taken off in the US, depite the millions of Americans who have played it as children over the last 30 years. The powers that be in US soccer, in the two eras when soccer had a noticable professional presence in this country, have always sought to bring in the most recognizable foreign players. It is brand recognition, plain and simple. In the 1970's, the New York Cosmos became a white-hot ticket for a brief moment in time by bringing the legendary Pele. Not only did Pele draw the curious to his games, but he drew other past-their-prime international stars to the US as well (Franz Beckenbauer being the most prominent).
The MLS is trying to pull off a similar stunt with Beckham. Critics would argue, with justification, that Beckham is hardly the greatest player in the world, at least not at this stage of his career. Beckham, now 31, rarely plays for his current team, the former powerhouse Real Madrid, and was unceremoniously dumped from the English national team following the World Cup this summer. However, Beckham has the most precious commodity for this day and age: name recognition. His Q rating, as they say, is stratospheric. The fact that a reasonably successful movie named him in its title and involved a young player’s desire to play like him (the enjoyable “Bend It Like Beckham”) certainly helped widen his already wide fame. Most Americans pressed to name a soccer player, if they can name any at all, are likely to identify Pele, perhaps Mia Hamm, and Beckham. If the MLS had its pick of the one player in the world it could bring in to generate interest in its league, Beckham is the guy, without question.
The backlash has already begun in the close-knit locker room that is the American sports fraternity. One of the local sports radio guys, a former NFL player who has never met a generalization he couldn’t embrace, dismissed Beckham as the Anna Kournikova of soccer, referring to the tennis player known equally well for her looks as for her complete lack of professional accomplishments. On this point, sports radio jocks could not be more wrong. Beckham is a pretty boy, certainly, who indulges in all of the trappings of modern fame, and yes, he is married to a former Spice Girl. However, he also earned his fame on the soccer pitch. He played for ten years for arguably the most important English professional team, Manchester United, for whom he played a vital role in six league championships, two all-England championships, and one European championship. As the movie title suggests, his ability to move the ball in the air is legendary, and is the one area of his game that remains at the pinnacle of the sport. Without him, England likely would have been shut out entirely at this summer’s World Cup.
Beckham should bring immediate interest in LA Galaxy games. A lesser halo effect should result for the league as a whole as some of the spectators new to the sport stay interested. An unknown factor is whether he will draw other world-class players (such as the Brazilian superstar Ronaldo) to the MLS as well. It is unlikely that any foreign player at the top of his game will come here, but the fact that a US league is even a topic of conversation in the worldwide soccer community is a giant leap forward.
Ironically, the best American players are making their away out of the country with greater regularity. The English Premier League team Fulham signed Clint Dempsey this week, an exceptional young player just coming into his prime. He will join 13 other players in the Premiership, including two others at Fulham. Until MLS can be seen as a true premier league in its own right, the best players will always play outside this country. The excitement and attention wrought by bringing Beckham in, however, is a first step in that process.
One more thing: Beckham signed for $250,000,000. Yes, a quarter of a billion dollars, over five years. That figure is mostly endorsement money, and reflects the company-town structure of the MLS. Yet, the MLS views this deal as a moneymaker for itself, such is the marketing power than a huge name (think Tiger, Jordan) can weild.
If the Galaxy play a game at the Rose Bowl next season, we’ll be there.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
It's About Time
It appears that I picked up a new cell phone too soon. One of the worst-kept secrets in the tech world was finally revealed yesterday, when Apple, Inc. (no longer Apple Computer) announced the iPhone. Ooh, pretty:
It is not ready for prime time yet, as the FCC has not approved it on a technical basis, and Cisco has not yet relinquished its rights to the "iPhone" name. However, expect everything to be in order by the June release date.
Excitement and skepticism abound whenever Apple makes a big product announcement. There is plenty of enthusiasm for Apple's all-in-one methodologies, incorporating telephone, web surfer, PDA and music capabilities into one small package. Critics raise questions about durability, battery life, and the ease of typing on a touch-screen keyboard instead of little buttons that provide tactile feedback as on competitive products such as Blackberry or Treo. As an iMac owner, though, this is a very attractive proposition, because I use the iCal and other PDA-type functions of the computer far more than I used to and the integration between platforms ought to be seamless.
The downside for me is the price ($500) and the exclusive deal with Cingular (we've been with Verizon for years and have managed to hold on to a relatively attractive services package that is no longer offered). As with any such device, it is almost impossible to tell how good it is until it is actually put to use. I was very pleased with the Motorola RAZR I recently acquired, as its telephone capabilities were light years ahead of the several-year-old LG I had been using, although I couldn't know that for sure until I bought the phone. I'm sure the gizmos will be great on the iPhone, but if it doesn't work well as a telephone, it is pointless. Thankfully, I guess, I'll still have several months to go on my Verizon contract when the iPhone is released, so for once I'll let everyone else be the early adopters and work out the kinks.
UPDATE: within half an hour of posting this item, the news came down the wire that Cisco filed suit against Apple over the iPhone name. The two companies had been in negotiations over the name, but had not concluded a resolution prior to Steve Jobs' MacWorld announcement. Oops. A deal will undoubtedly be done, but Cisco has all the leverage in the world now, since Apple has now announced the product with that name and consumer expectations have been set. I think Cisco has engaged in some shenanigans by releasing a product bearing the name iPhone that nobody has heard of just three weeks before MacWorld (the key element of perfecting the registration of a trademark is to use it in commerce). Nevertheless, expect Cisco to pick up a sweet per-unit license deal before this is over.
It is not ready for prime time yet, as the FCC has not approved it on a technical basis, and Cisco has not yet relinquished its rights to the "iPhone" name. However, expect everything to be in order by the June release date.
Excitement and skepticism abound whenever Apple makes a big product announcement. There is plenty of enthusiasm for Apple's all-in-one methodologies, incorporating telephone, web surfer, PDA and music capabilities into one small package. Critics raise questions about durability, battery life, and the ease of typing on a touch-screen keyboard instead of little buttons that provide tactile feedback as on competitive products such as Blackberry or Treo. As an iMac owner, though, this is a very attractive proposition, because I use the iCal and other PDA-type functions of the computer far more than I used to and the integration between platforms ought to be seamless.
The downside for me is the price ($500) and the exclusive deal with Cingular (we've been with Verizon for years and have managed to hold on to a relatively attractive services package that is no longer offered). As with any such device, it is almost impossible to tell how good it is until it is actually put to use. I was very pleased with the Motorola RAZR I recently acquired, as its telephone capabilities were light years ahead of the several-year-old LG I had been using, although I couldn't know that for sure until I bought the phone. I'm sure the gizmos will be great on the iPhone, but if it doesn't work well as a telephone, it is pointless. Thankfully, I guess, I'll still have several months to go on my Verizon contract when the iPhone is released, so for once I'll let everyone else be the early adopters and work out the kinks.
UPDATE: within half an hour of posting this item, the news came down the wire that Cisco filed suit against Apple over the iPhone name. The two companies had been in negotiations over the name, but had not concluded a resolution prior to Steve Jobs' MacWorld announcement. Oops. A deal will undoubtedly be done, but Cisco has all the leverage in the world now, since Apple has now announced the product with that name and consumer expectations have been set. I think Cisco has engaged in some shenanigans by releasing a product bearing the name iPhone that nobody has heard of just three weeks before MacWorld (the key element of perfecting the registration of a trademark is to use it in commerce). Nevertheless, expect Cisco to pick up a sweet per-unit license deal before this is over.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
You, Too, Can Take A Guess
As of today, we are exactly two months away from the anniversary of a momentous day in pop culture history. Expect to see a few magazine articles and a fawning retrospective from the LA Times' Robert Hilburn.
Monday, January 08, 2007
A Really Memorable Way to Die
This one's for Dad, the ex-ultralight pilot. The ingenuity of the human mind and the boldness of the human spirit have seldom been exercised in such spectacular disregard of the innate frailty of the human body as shown in this video. This guy flies for five minutes with a gen-u-wine jet pack (wings included!) strapped to his back. Genius that he is, he launched from another airplane (sure hope this thing starts), and apparently decided that a great place to ride a jet engine would be a narrow alpine valley with lots of photogenic (i.e., splat-inducing) mountains in close proximity.
Nevertheless, the sheer audacity of the whole venture, and the seeming ease with which the guy zips around, is inspiring, albeit in a "better-him-than-me" sort of way.
Don't get any ideas, Dad.
Nevertheless, the sheer audacity of the whole venture, and the seeming ease with which the guy zips around, is inspiring, albeit in a "better-him-than-me" sort of way.
Don't get any ideas, Dad.
Friday, December 22, 2006
When Adpeople Attack
You have to enjoy the joie de vivre exhibited by the ad agencies in these spots:
Shuttle Landing Day ... Where?
The Space Shuttle is supposed to come home today, but nobody knows where. As I type this, the flight director just informed the crew that rain is expected in the vicinity of the shuttle landing area in Florida, with a deorbit burn for that landing site required in less than an hour. Ordinarily, this would fill me with joy, because the shuttle would be diverted to Edwards, giving us a shot at going out there to watch it land (as we have done before). However, Edwards is currently experiencing windy conditions that could interfere with a landing. As a result, the White Sands area of New Mexico is getting ready for only the second shuttle landing there, the first in 24 years.
The NASA bosses haven't given up hope on Florida or California yet, as each site would allow for a far more efficient post-landing turnaround of the orbiter. Plus, it sounds like New Mexico has little more than a guy with a Handicam and a toothless old codger at a broken down gas pump ready to receive the shuttle. Nevertheless, the weather at White Sands is stable, making it a secure backup site if the others cannot be used today.
Right now, NASA is still aiming for a landing at Kennedy on orbit 202, landing at about 3 pm CST. The first set of backups would be on orbit 203: landing at Edwards at about 4:27 CST; landing at New Mexico at almost exactly the same time; or landing at Kennedy at about 4:32 CST. The second set of backup landing plans would be on Orbit 204, landing at Edwards at 6:00 CST or New Mexico at 6:02 CST. The final backup landing plan for today would be on orbit 205 at Edwards at 7:36 CST. NASA must commit to any landing plan it chooses more than an hour prior to the actual landing, as the de-orbit maneuvers take that much time.
There are final landing options for Saturday, but only as a last resort. Because of an extra day spent fixing the ISS, the shuttle has less resources in reserve than usual. In short, it will run out of gas on Saturday, so NASA needs to get it on the ground soon. Ordinarily, NASA would take any extra time it could to wait for a landing window to open up at either Kennedy or Edwards. In this case, though, because of the smaller margin for error, there is a strong likelihood that the shuttle will end up on the ground in New Mexico today.
UPDATE, 11:03 PST: the first landing opportunity at Florida has been waved off, with the parenthetical remark that the next opportunity at Florida will likely also not be a "go" due to weather. Edwards is on the clock.
UPDATE, 12:15 PST: Winds at Edwards are "somewhat more favorable." Weather is also trending more favorable, although it is not clear like California. The order has been given for fluid loading, in which the astronauts begin consumption of liquids to help them readjust to life on the ground (the body sheds liquid in space because in a zero gravity environment bodily fluids shift toward the head, leading the body to believe it is retaining too much fluid). This means they are committing to come down on this orbit.
UPDATE, 12:25 PST: NASA is now providing the shuttle commander de-orbit information for an Edwards landing. We may not be able to get out there in time, but we'll stand by for the sonic booms at 2:22 PST. Houston is still debating landing sites, though. They really want to come back to Florida.
UPDATE, 12:50 PST: Shuttle support vehicles are rolling out at Edwards.
UPDATE, 12:57 PST: Winds have picked up at Edwards, with too much unpredicable crosswind behavior. They are now loading computer targets for Florida. Drat!
UPDATE, 1:22 PST: with only about 5 minutes remaining prior to the scheduled de-orbit burn, Houston has given the go-ahead for landing in Florida. The weather looks pretty gloomy, but flight controllers believe that the shuttle will be able to avoid any showers. The shuttle commander was very happy to get the approval.
UPDATE, 2:35 PST: Discovery is home. The flight director should get something nice in his stocking this year; he saved the American taxpayers millions of dollars by pushing through pretty ugly weather to land in Florida anyway.
The NASA bosses haven't given up hope on Florida or California yet, as each site would allow for a far more efficient post-landing turnaround of the orbiter. Plus, it sounds like New Mexico has little more than a guy with a Handicam and a toothless old codger at a broken down gas pump ready to receive the shuttle. Nevertheless, the weather at White Sands is stable, making it a secure backup site if the others cannot be used today.
Right now, NASA is still aiming for a landing at Kennedy on orbit 202, landing at about 3 pm CST. The first set of backups would be on orbit 203: landing at Edwards at about 4:27 CST; landing at New Mexico at almost exactly the same time; or landing at Kennedy at about 4:32 CST. The second set of backup landing plans would be on Orbit 204, landing at Edwards at 6:00 CST or New Mexico at 6:02 CST. The final backup landing plan for today would be on orbit 205 at Edwards at 7:36 CST. NASA must commit to any landing plan it chooses more than an hour prior to the actual landing, as the de-orbit maneuvers take that much time.
There are final landing options for Saturday, but only as a last resort. Because of an extra day spent fixing the ISS, the shuttle has less resources in reserve than usual. In short, it will run out of gas on Saturday, so NASA needs to get it on the ground soon. Ordinarily, NASA would take any extra time it could to wait for a landing window to open up at either Kennedy or Edwards. In this case, though, because of the smaller margin for error, there is a strong likelihood that the shuttle will end up on the ground in New Mexico today.
UPDATE, 11:03 PST: the first landing opportunity at Florida has been waved off, with the parenthetical remark that the next opportunity at Florida will likely also not be a "go" due to weather. Edwards is on the clock.
UPDATE, 12:15 PST: Winds at Edwards are "somewhat more favorable." Weather is also trending more favorable, although it is not clear like California. The order has been given for fluid loading, in which the astronauts begin consumption of liquids to help them readjust to life on the ground (the body sheds liquid in space because in a zero gravity environment bodily fluids shift toward the head, leading the body to believe it is retaining too much fluid). This means they are committing to come down on this orbit.
UPDATE, 12:25 PST: NASA is now providing the shuttle commander de-orbit information for an Edwards landing. We may not be able to get out there in time, but we'll stand by for the sonic booms at 2:22 PST. Houston is still debating landing sites, though. They really want to come back to Florida.
UPDATE, 12:50 PST: Shuttle support vehicles are rolling out at Edwards.
UPDATE, 12:57 PST: Winds have picked up at Edwards, with too much unpredicable crosswind behavior. They are now loading computer targets for Florida. Drat!
UPDATE, 1:22 PST: with only about 5 minutes remaining prior to the scheduled de-orbit burn, Houston has given the go-ahead for landing in Florida. The weather looks pretty gloomy, but flight controllers believe that the shuttle will be able to avoid any showers. The shuttle commander was very happy to get the approval.
UPDATE, 2:35 PST: Discovery is home. The flight director should get something nice in his stocking this year; he saved the American taxpayers millions of dollars by pushing through pretty ugly weather to land in Florida anyway.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Auto Repair Scam
I have resisted posting or linking to YouTube clips, partly because I can't vouch for all of the garbage that may be on the YouTube site, and partly because it's just too easy to post amusing little clips. I look for a higher degree of difficulty with my blogging.
I'll make an exception now, however. One of the local television stations ran an expose on Jiffy Lube over the last few months that was pretty revealing, especially since it involved a Jiffy Lube that I used to use. It's a pretty sobering story for all of us who secretly (or not so secretly) think that we're always getting ripped off by auto mechanics. For once, the proud little (literally) consumer crusader doesn't overshadow the story itself.
As an added bonus, for those who know the SoCal news scene, you get Paul Moyer!
I'll make an exception now, however. One of the local television stations ran an expose on Jiffy Lube over the last few months that was pretty revealing, especially since it involved a Jiffy Lube that I used to use. It's a pretty sobering story for all of us who secretly (or not so secretly) think that we're always getting ripped off by auto mechanics. For once, the proud little (literally) consumer crusader doesn't overshadow the story itself.
As an added bonus, for those who know the SoCal news scene, you get Paul Moyer!
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