M Train by Patti Smith (December 2017)
Smith’s memoir was among the books I choose to re-read this past December. I’d first read it early in 2016 and my memory of it was vague. I remembered understanding why it was considered pretty good despite being unable to explain to anyone why the book won a National Book Award (editor's note: nobody asked, so this statement is basically a lie).
I suppose the best I could say about M Train was that I’d liked it enough to follow up by reading Just Kids, her 2010 memoir about her life forty years prior. For me, reading more of an author’s work is the surest sign of my approval – a logic similar to how I expect a second helping signals to the cook my positive assessment of the meal.
The single thing I was most impressed by while rereading was how easily Smith’s writing took the reader through various points in time. I suppose the recognition of this feature marks my belated growth as a reader – at some point during the twenty months that passed between readings of M Train, I’ve become able to appreciate the immense skill required to write in this way.
The other obvious feature was how a feeling of loss and grief infused nearly every page. Again, I wonder if noticing this is another mark of my growth because I failed to notice this about M Train the first time around. A memoir written in the aftermath of a loss is never about anything else, I guess, and the fact was blatantly obvious on this second reading (1).
As I reviewed my notes for M Train, I noticed a final feature I’d missed the first time – writing advice (2). It is delivered in the context of the book, of course, so readers who flip through M Train looking for Smith's 'Top Five Tips For Writing' will leave disappointed. The advice comes subtly as she muses on her loss and sees reminders everywhere that anything once thought permanent remains such until it is destroyed.
In the context of writing, this lesson is applied to how a particular challenge of the craft is finding a partner able to look at a work in progress and make an honest assessment of it. Perhaps I’m reading more into this than necessary but in M Train, I sense Smith is finding her way once more after losing her most important confidant. It leads her to lean again on a long-dormant part of herself, the inner critic all writers turn to from time to time to look objectively at the work when no one else is around. In those quiet times when the writer cannot reconcile the need to fully embrace solitude with the importance of an objective, empathetic proofreader, being in touch with this inner critic is perhaps the most important skill of all.
One up: If exploring more of an author’s work is my highest form of compliment, putting the book down and going to write is a close runner-up. I’m not exactly running to the laptop to pen my own version of this book – Red Line, I suppose, would have to be the title, and its publication would certainly be delayed – but I’ve certainly tried some of what Smith does in M Train over the past couple of years on TOA.
A recent example of my being inspired to write by a book came in November. As I read Andre Dubus’s Broken Vessels, I became possessed by a need to write. The end result was this post from late December, written at an hour I never write and with an intensity I haven't experienced since.
One down: I liked Smith’s observation that materialism uses strength to hide its weakness and mask its cruelty. It’s admittedly a depressing thought but one I expect to find useful when I encounter perplexing shows of strength in the future.
I was less impressed with the conclusion that a good way to lead through change is to keep what is good and quickly move on from what is not. Surely, this is not another example of strength hiding weakness, of strength masking cruelty? From experience, I advise against being hasty in moving on from the suffering brought on by grief. The pain is difficult to bear but allowing distractions to numb the feeling is going to diminish the capacity for joy. A moment, at least, to honor what was lost and acknowledge its importance in a past life is vital in the process of picking up the pieces, rebuilding a broken life, and finding a way to move on.
Just saying: The ever-present companion to loss and grief is longing. Smith acknowledges the reality indirectly at one point by defining longing as merely the wish for how things were. This thought serves as one of the book’s many rails, underlying the progression from section to section like a train relies on its tracks to take it from station to station.
Footnotes / an analogy nobody asked for
0. Just saying, part two…
I liked the insight that there is no price too high for peace of mind.
1. Or maybe these are the stations?
If M Train runs on the parallel rails of loss and grief, the tangents and digressions Smith takes us on are the third rail. These bring the energy needed to keep things moving yet does so mindfully, always aware of the danger in leaning too heavily on it.
2. And longtime readers will recall…
…that I could benefit from some writing advice…
Sunday, April 29, 2018
Saturday, April 28, 2018
reading review: the unwritten laws of engineering
Hi,
I read the three articles that comprised The Unwritten Laws of Engineering back in January 2018. The main purpose of these pieces was to address King’s belief that personal or administrative failures often cause very technically skilled engineers to fail at their craft. The Unwritten Laws of Engineering focused on the professional rather than technical aspects of the role. Throughout, it was filled with recommendations for how to best apply engineering knowledge to the job without getting trampled underfoot by the challenges of navigating a work environment.
King’s style is to deliver simple messages supported by clear and realistic examples. His two-fold suggestion that new hires attack early assignments with enthusiasm and make any extra effort needed to complete initial projects exemplifies his approach. He explains the importance of these recommendations by pointing out how a new hire has not accumulated enough projects to allow a manager to overlook natural variations in performance.
He adds later that nothing is more dangerous for an engineer’s future than becoming known as a strong starter who never finishes projects. The single biggest danger of this reputation is that others will start to dismiss ideas from someone who never finishes projects on the account that the proposed project will probably never get done anyway. This is perhaps good advice for someone who has settled into a new role. A new hire may start with enthusiasm and finish projects on time merely as a result of natural 'new hire exuberance' - however, over time a new hire slowly becomes a seasoned employee and this initial energy will fade. Those who maintain a strong early pace always make a strong case for taking on more interesting or challenging assignments in the future.
Most of King’s advice addresses a skill engineers are usually not trained on – communication. This strikes me as a very sound approach. As King himself notes repeatedly, most engineers are technically qualified for the job. Their failures tend to stem from setting the wrong initial expectations or having a difficult time cooperating with others. He has many specific examples that fall into this category but I felt one thought summarized them all: if a situation is inadequate, the options are to accept the situation and work hard or seek a move to another role as soon as possible – note that causing mischief is not among the options!
One up: I’ve written in the past about how much I like a common sense approach to managerial questions. King seems to be a kindred spirit in this matter and many of his managerial prescriptions were supported with a strong dose of common sense. Here were a few of my favorites:
A better approach here might be to reframe the most important aspects of judgment as laws, principles, or methods. Although this process might impose an unnecessary structure around the essentially unstructured skill of ‘good judgment’, this approach would probably make sense to an engineer because the profession is based on working with laws, principles, and methods. When the engineer grows into the profession and is ready to use good judgment, it will be easy enough to discard the laws, principles, and methods that were need early on in a career to inform decision-making.
Just saying: I like King’s insight into the value of asking – what do you recommend? Though it is often a great question to ask during a confrontation, it should only be asked by those seriously willing to consider the advice. If you are perceived as someone who ignores others, never ask this question – it will only be interpreted as patronizing and bring further damage to your reputation.
I read the three articles that comprised The Unwritten Laws of Engineering back in January 2018. The main purpose of these pieces was to address King’s belief that personal or administrative failures often cause very technically skilled engineers to fail at their craft. The Unwritten Laws of Engineering focused on the professional rather than technical aspects of the role. Throughout, it was filled with recommendations for how to best apply engineering knowledge to the job without getting trampled underfoot by the challenges of navigating a work environment.
King’s style is to deliver simple messages supported by clear and realistic examples. His two-fold suggestion that new hires attack early assignments with enthusiasm and make any extra effort needed to complete initial projects exemplifies his approach. He explains the importance of these recommendations by pointing out how a new hire has not accumulated enough projects to allow a manager to overlook natural variations in performance.
He adds later that nothing is more dangerous for an engineer’s future than becoming known as a strong starter who never finishes projects. The single biggest danger of this reputation is that others will start to dismiss ideas from someone who never finishes projects on the account that the proposed project will probably never get done anyway. This is perhaps good advice for someone who has settled into a new role. A new hire may start with enthusiasm and finish projects on time merely as a result of natural 'new hire exuberance' - however, over time a new hire slowly becomes a seasoned employee and this initial energy will fade. Those who maintain a strong early pace always make a strong case for taking on more interesting or challenging assignments in the future.
Most of King’s advice addresses a skill engineers are usually not trained on – communication. This strikes me as a very sound approach. As King himself notes repeatedly, most engineers are technically qualified for the job. Their failures tend to stem from setting the wrong initial expectations or having a difficult time cooperating with others. He has many specific examples that fall into this category but I felt one thought summarized them all: if a situation is inadequate, the options are to accept the situation and work hard or seek a move to another role as soon as possible – note that causing mischief is not among the options!
One up: I’ve written in the past about how much I like a common sense approach to managerial questions. King seems to be a kindred spirit in this matter and many of his managerial prescriptions were supported with a strong dose of common sense. Here were a few of my favorites:
-Do not cite ‘uncertainty’ as the reason for not making a decision if sorting out uncertainty is part of your job.
-Never cite a subordinate’s lack of skills as the reason for withholding responsibility – developing the right skills is the manager’s job.
-If a mistaken decision will not risk a catastrophe, make the call quickly – there will be an opportunity to reverse course later.
-Managers should never blame changing scope for poor work because understanding and applying the right scope is part of the role.One down: I thought King’s reminder that laws, principles, and methods are no substitutes for judgment was a well-intended point that went just wide of the mark. It reflects a common problem with advice – the engineer who agrees with the comment likely already exhibits good judgment while the engineer who stands to benefit the most form the comment likely doesn’t have the good judgment needed to understand it. To put it another way, the engineer who will benefit the most from King’s work is the new professional who requires laws, principles, or methods to support the slow process of developing the judgment necessary to no longer rely on these at some point in the future.
A better approach here might be to reframe the most important aspects of judgment as laws, principles, or methods. Although this process might impose an unnecessary structure around the essentially unstructured skill of ‘good judgment’, this approach would probably make sense to an engineer because the profession is based on working with laws, principles, and methods. When the engineer grows into the profession and is ready to use good judgment, it will be easy enough to discard the laws, principles, and methods that were need early on in a career to inform decision-making.
Just saying: I like King’s insight into the value of asking – what do you recommend? Though it is often a great question to ask during a confrontation, it should only be asked by those seriously willing to consider the advice. If you are perceived as someone who ignores others, never ask this question – it will only be interpreted as patronizing and bring further damage to your reputation.
Thursday, April 26, 2018
recycling day blues
The only time I feel an acute sense of failure is when I forget to bring the recycling out to the curb. It’s not as easy as it used to be for an endless list of reasons – I live on the fourth floor now, I have no accountability to a roommate, sometimes my feet hurt after waking up, and so on. Most days, I'm not going anywhere in the morning so I don't even have the option of bringing it out ‘on the way’ to someplace else.
But still, in the grand scheme of things, it’s pretty easy, this 'bringing out the plastic and paper' chore. It isn’t as hard as running, which I do most days. It isn’t as hard as writing. No matter what kind of day it is, I almost always make it outside, so if I just timed my first trip outside properly, I should always be able to do this successfully twice a week.
And yet, on some recycling days, all the beer bottles and tofu containers and shredded spam mail I accumulate through the week remains tucked under my table. It sits there as the truck rumbles down the street, parks in front of my apartment, and picks up everyone else’s recycling. Mine, meanwhile, waits upstairs, patiently, in the Whole Foods bags I store all the recycling in. Until next time, I guess.
My failure really hits home on the days when I go outside early enough but forget to bring the recycling down. I look up and down the street and see everyone else’s crap, see that everyone else has done this simple thing correctly that I cannot, and I wonder why I sometimes fail to do this simple thing correctly.
I consider going upstairs, a two-minute round trip, to get the recycling and bring it back down. It’s an easy enough idea. I’ve done it plenty of times to retrieve things I’ve forgotten – headphones, detergent, a book. For those things, I wouldn't even stop to think. But even as I consider going up, I know I’m not going to go. I’m already defeated, for some reason, and fixing my error isn't as simple as going back upstairs.
But still, in the grand scheme of things, it’s pretty easy, this 'bringing out the plastic and paper' chore. It isn’t as hard as running, which I do most days. It isn’t as hard as writing. No matter what kind of day it is, I almost always make it outside, so if I just timed my first trip outside properly, I should always be able to do this successfully twice a week.
And yet, on some recycling days, all the beer bottles and tofu containers and shredded spam mail I accumulate through the week remains tucked under my table. It sits there as the truck rumbles down the street, parks in front of my apartment, and picks up everyone else’s recycling. Mine, meanwhile, waits upstairs, patiently, in the Whole Foods bags I store all the recycling in. Until next time, I guess.
My failure really hits home on the days when I go outside early enough but forget to bring the recycling down. I look up and down the street and see everyone else’s crap, see that everyone else has done this simple thing correctly that I cannot, and I wonder why I sometimes fail to do this simple thing correctly.
I consider going upstairs, a two-minute round trip, to get the recycling and bring it back down. It’s an easy enough idea. I’ve done it plenty of times to retrieve things I’ve forgotten – headphones, detergent, a book. For those things, I wouldn't even stop to think. But even as I consider going up, I know I’m not going to go. I’m already defeated, for some reason, and fixing my error isn't as simple as going back upstairs.
Wednesday, April 25, 2018
tales of two cities, special edition - musical interlude
10/07/2016
Central Square at Mass Ave / Essex St (7:05 pm)
Boylston St. at Arlington St. (7:23 pm)
A landmark moment of sorts as I go see Lake Street Dive play at the Wang Theater. My first Hubway ride to a concert? After fourteen months, it's about time. But who cares, I suppose, about stats...
This is the first concert I've bought tickets for but it isn't my first concert. It isn't even the first time I've seen this band play. My first Lake Street Dive concert took place just over a year prior at the end of August in a little park in Lowell. The Wang is a slightly different venue and underscores just how much can change in a year.
As these shows tend to do, there is an opening act. Tonight's lead-in band is Rubblebucket. What a great name for a band! I immediately note a higher-than-expected presence of brass instruments. It takes me about ten seconds to understand why the website described this group as an 'indie-dance' band - when this indie band plays, they also dance.
Towards the end of the set, the band's lead singer, Kalmia, talks to us in the crowd about recently overcoming cancer. This may or may not be an explanation for why the latest album is titled Survival Sounds. She thanks her mother for being in the crowd. After her speech, the band ends their performance by forming into a marching band and strutting all over the Wang Theater. It's ridiculous and loud and fun.
When the main event commences, I'm surprised at how quickly the music transports me back over fourteen months. Throughout this concert, I have these little flashbacks to what happened in Lowell. The most memorable comes as the band starts playing 'You Go Down Smooth'.
About halfway into the song, I suddenly remember how this same song ended the Lowell show. It was getting close to the time I needed to leave in order to catch the last train. I remember lingering for as long as possible - about two minutes - before I gave in. As I jogged through the lifeless Lowell streets toward the train station, the last notes of the song faded into the quiet night behind me. I wonder what I would have done if I'd missed the train.
When I leave the Wang, I'm surprised to admit I enjoyed the opener more than the main act. Maybe Lake Street Dive did, too - they had invited Rubblebucket onstage to perform a few songs together, after all. It's my only insight during the unhurried stroll home.
11/12/2016
Packard's Corner - Comm. Ave. at Brighton Ave. (12:26 am)
Charles St at Beacon St (12:45 am)
Just a month after The Wang Theater, I go to Great Scott, a much smaller venue. It's a bar, really, it has draft beers and a lottery machine and everything. My mission tonight's is to see Slow Club play a rare North American show.
Hailing from Sheffield, England, Slow Club is a duo I started listening to with a weird intensity in the past few months. It started when my my brother forwarded their song, 'The Pieces', to me early in July 2015. I slowly joined the club, if you will (please do) as I cherry picked a couple of other songs I liked from them over the next few months. But the moment I think I was locked in as a proper fan came when I learned that one of their albums was titled Christmas, Thanks For Nothing. How could anyone not be a big fan of them, really?
I bought a ticket for this show weeks in advance but when I arrive I realize there was no need. Maybe the Brighton-Allston area lives in ignorance of album names. The ticket price I paid and the cover charge everyone else is paying works out to the same amount - roughly equal to two draft beers plus a generous tip. There is no 'service fee' for the unprepared, though - I perhaps lost a couple of bucks by taking care of business early. Ticketmaster, thanks for nothing!
There are two opening sets before the main show. During the second, I stand next to a familiar looking man. It isn't until the set ends and I walk to the back of the bar before I realize I was standing next to Charles, otherwise known as one-half of Slow Club. I wonder where the other half is. I go stand at a table underneath the Keno TV and wait.
Things are moving a little slowly between sets. In the area next to my table is an agitated man. He is easily twice the age of everyone in the bar. He keeps looking at me, or at least I think so at first, but I soon realize I'm standing between his spot and the front door. I step out of his sight line but remain close enough to overhear him. When he speaks, he does so with a noticeable English accent.
Charles soon takes the stage and announces bad news: Rebecca is going to miss the show. The band and the bar have one thing in common - both are half-full. Slow Club, thanks for nothing!
Poor Rebecca. Apparently, she has the flu... but - get this - is in the hospital! Pretty serious flu, reader. Or maybe it isn't the flu? I wonder if there is something worth adding up here.
Charles plays a few solo efforts to compensate the remaining fans and I enjoy the improvised show - 'Wanderer Wandering' in particular plays very well to his skills. Still, the missing Rebecca is a huge presence in the room and the setlist is a few songs shorter than anticipated. I wonder - what is the difference between half-full and half-empty? My beer is definitely half-empty but I'm not sure what to do next.
I wander away from the table. To my left is the bar, to my right is a merchandise table, and above us all the Keno machine spits out losing numbers. The new album, on sale in CD and vinyl formats, is called One Day All Of This Won't Matter Anymore.
Central Square at Mass Ave / Essex St (7:05 pm)
Boylston St. at Arlington St. (7:23 pm)
A landmark moment of sorts as I go see Lake Street Dive play at the Wang Theater. My first Hubway ride to a concert? After fourteen months, it's about time. But who cares, I suppose, about stats...
This is the first concert I've bought tickets for but it isn't my first concert. It isn't even the first time I've seen this band play. My first Lake Street Dive concert took place just over a year prior at the end of August in a little park in Lowell. The Wang is a slightly different venue and underscores just how much can change in a year.
As these shows tend to do, there is an opening act. Tonight's lead-in band is Rubblebucket. What a great name for a band! I immediately note a higher-than-expected presence of brass instruments. It takes me about ten seconds to understand why the website described this group as an 'indie-dance' band - when this indie band plays, they also dance.
Towards the end of the set, the band's lead singer, Kalmia, talks to us in the crowd about recently overcoming cancer. This may or may not be an explanation for why the latest album is titled Survival Sounds. She thanks her mother for being in the crowd. After her speech, the band ends their performance by forming into a marching band and strutting all over the Wang Theater. It's ridiculous and loud and fun.
When the main event commences, I'm surprised at how quickly the music transports me back over fourteen months. Throughout this concert, I have these little flashbacks to what happened in Lowell. The most memorable comes as the band starts playing 'You Go Down Smooth'.
About halfway into the song, I suddenly remember how this same song ended the Lowell show. It was getting close to the time I needed to leave in order to catch the last train. I remember lingering for as long as possible - about two minutes - before I gave in. As I jogged through the lifeless Lowell streets toward the train station, the last notes of the song faded into the quiet night behind me. I wonder what I would have done if I'd missed the train.
When I leave the Wang, I'm surprised to admit I enjoyed the opener more than the main act. Maybe Lake Street Dive did, too - they had invited Rubblebucket onstage to perform a few songs together, after all. It's my only insight during the unhurried stroll home.
11/12/2016
Packard's Corner - Comm. Ave. at Brighton Ave. (12:26 am)
Charles St at Beacon St (12:45 am)
Just a month after The Wang Theater, I go to Great Scott, a much smaller venue. It's a bar, really, it has draft beers and a lottery machine and everything. My mission tonight's is to see Slow Club play a rare North American show.
Hailing from Sheffield, England, Slow Club is a duo I started listening to with a weird intensity in the past few months. It started when my my brother forwarded their song, 'The Pieces', to me early in July 2015. I slowly joined the club, if you will (please do) as I cherry picked a couple of other songs I liked from them over the next few months. But the moment I think I was locked in as a proper fan came when I learned that one of their albums was titled Christmas, Thanks For Nothing. How could anyone not be a big fan of them, really?
I bought a ticket for this show weeks in advance but when I arrive I realize there was no need. Maybe the Brighton-Allston area lives in ignorance of album names. The ticket price I paid and the cover charge everyone else is paying works out to the same amount - roughly equal to two draft beers plus a generous tip. There is no 'service fee' for the unprepared, though - I perhaps lost a couple of bucks by taking care of business early. Ticketmaster, thanks for nothing!
There are two opening sets before the main show. During the second, I stand next to a familiar looking man. It isn't until the set ends and I walk to the back of the bar before I realize I was standing next to Charles, otherwise known as one-half of Slow Club. I wonder where the other half is. I go stand at a table underneath the Keno TV and wait.
Things are moving a little slowly between sets. In the area next to my table is an agitated man. He is easily twice the age of everyone in the bar. He keeps looking at me, or at least I think so at first, but I soon realize I'm standing between his spot and the front door. I step out of his sight line but remain close enough to overhear him. When he speaks, he does so with a noticeable English accent.
Charles soon takes the stage and announces bad news: Rebecca is going to miss the show. The band and the bar have one thing in common - both are half-full. Slow Club, thanks for nothing!
Poor Rebecca. Apparently, she has the flu... but - get this - is in the hospital! Pretty serious flu, reader. Or maybe it isn't the flu? I wonder if there is something worth adding up here.
Charles plays a few solo efforts to compensate the remaining fans and I enjoy the improvised show - 'Wanderer Wandering' in particular plays very well to his skills. Still, the missing Rebecca is a huge presence in the room and the setlist is a few songs shorter than anticipated. I wonder - what is the difference between half-full and half-empty? My beer is definitely half-empty but I'm not sure what to do next.
I wander away from the table. To my left is the bar, to my right is a merchandise table, and above us all the Keno machine spits out losing numbers. The new album, on sale in CD and vinyl formats, is called One Day All Of This Won't Matter Anymore.
Tuesday, April 24, 2018
i once read a book, or should i say, it once read me
My friend recently got back into reading. He’s doing it properly – started a book club at work and everything. One day, he told me a funny story about two of his recent reads.
The first was a recent bestseller. It started with a reference to ‘something that happened’. And, unfortunately, these references continued, chapter after chapter. A hundred pages in and my friend still had no idea what had happened! You know the old expression - if the author asks the reader to sit anywhere, well, there'd better be a chair somewhere in sight! Eventually, my friend stopped reading the book.
He compared this experience to another read - a Stephen King novel. One chapter into it and twenty people were already dead. The rest of the book ensued. This, he told me, was more like it. Imagine, a book showing you its room right away. Isn’t all that good, reader?
I thought about this exchange the other day when I chanced across a collection of short essays written by famous writers about their favorite Beatles songs (1). The only author I recognized on the cover was my old favorite, Chuck Klosterman, and there was only one Beatles song I was interested in reading about. I opened the book, turned to the table of contents, and looked for the two essays I wanted to read.
The first one I found was Klosterman’s. It was about ‘Helter Skelter’. He references the song title in the opening sentence, approximately four words in – "Blah blah blah ‘Helter Skelter'…"
He then goes on to write nonsensical things like "'Helter Skelter' is their sixth-best song on their fifth-best album" or "this song is a perfect execution of a bad idea". You know how it goes reader, classic Klosterman fare. I could happily drink wine until two in the morning reading rubbish like that.
The second chapter was written by an author I didn’t know. The opening line didn’t mention my favorite Beatles song. The second line didn’t, either. A paragraph went by, then two, then three. Was this ever going to happen? Over three hundred words and no direct mention of the song...
That was enough for me, reader – it wasn't like I had work the next morning but surely I could find better things to do.
Footnotes / I'm sorry, whaddaya want? This blog's free...
1. I think it was called In Their Lives...
I've actually forgotten, though. I didn't check it out, just flipped through it.
The first was a recent bestseller. It started with a reference to ‘something that happened’. And, unfortunately, these references continued, chapter after chapter. A hundred pages in and my friend still had no idea what had happened! You know the old expression - if the author asks the reader to sit anywhere, well, there'd better be a chair somewhere in sight! Eventually, my friend stopped reading the book.
He compared this experience to another read - a Stephen King novel. One chapter into it and twenty people were already dead. The rest of the book ensued. This, he told me, was more like it. Imagine, a book showing you its room right away. Isn’t all that good, reader?
I thought about this exchange the other day when I chanced across a collection of short essays written by famous writers about their favorite Beatles songs (1). The only author I recognized on the cover was my old favorite, Chuck Klosterman, and there was only one Beatles song I was interested in reading about. I opened the book, turned to the table of contents, and looked for the two essays I wanted to read.
The first one I found was Klosterman’s. It was about ‘Helter Skelter’. He references the song title in the opening sentence, approximately four words in – "Blah blah blah ‘Helter Skelter'…"
He then goes on to write nonsensical things like "'Helter Skelter' is their sixth-best song on their fifth-best album" or "this song is a perfect execution of a bad idea". You know how it goes reader, classic Klosterman fare. I could happily drink wine until two in the morning reading rubbish like that.
The second chapter was written by an author I didn’t know. The opening line didn’t mention my favorite Beatles song. The second line didn’t, either. A paragraph went by, then two, then three. Was this ever going to happen? Over three hundred words and no direct mention of the song...
That was enough for me, reader – it wasn't like I had work the next morning but surely I could find better things to do.
Footnotes / I'm sorry, whaddaya want? This blog's free...
1. I think it was called In Their Lives...
I've actually forgotten, though. I didn't check it out, just flipped through it.
Sunday, April 22, 2018
life changing books: gang leader for a day
A lady once walked up to me in a CVS.
"You look like a good shopper."
"How's that?" I asked.
"You've been standing in front of the toothpaste for ten minutes."
I couldn't argue with the facts (though I do contend her watch was a teeny bit fast). To any outsider, I was doing just that: standing in front of the toothpaste in a CVS. Of course, my long-time (and highly sophisticated, and good-looking) readers will know there was another thing going on beneath my world-class shopper exterior.
On this day, the immediate activity was math. CVS often brings this out in me. Some people play little memory games like Sudoku to keep their aging brains sharp; I wander into CVS and try to save seventeen cents on household items. It's all due to their ExtraCare program, a membership system offering rotating weekly sales and deals to shoppers who sign up for a rewards card.
The puzzle I was trying to solve was whether I would do better to go with the Colgate 'buy one, get one 50% off' deal or pay for two individual tubes of a different brand at full price to get a $3 coupon for my next visit. It was a very close call and I was utilizing the full complement of skills I honed as a double mathematics and economics major to make my decision (1).
In these kinds of situations, I sometimes recall a lesson I learned from a book called Gang Leader for a Day by Sudhir Venkatesh (2). Venkatesh, a sociology professor, researched this book by immersing himself in a Chicago gang for nearly a decade. One story he shares comes in the form of a business case challenge from a gang member.
As I remember it (though I do feel like I'm making some of this up) the deal involved two options for a drug sale. The first option was to make one sale of the drugs at a 20% profit. The price for future sales would be negotiated at the time of the next sale. The second options was to arrange a series of deals, each separate transaction within the series resulting in a 10% profit. For simplicity, let's say each percentage point in profit is equal to one dollar and the proposed series is one deal every first Sunday of the month for a year.
No brainer, says Venkatesh, take option two. Over the series, the total profit will be larger. $120 is greater than $20. Plus, it covers us in case something changes with the price...
Wrong, comes the response. In this business, uncertainty is to be avoided at all costs. Dealers could die, go to jail, or just get chased out of the area. When there is uncertainty, all contracts are one day arrangements and smart business means jumping at any opportunity for short-term gain.
I've always thought this example contained a number of profound insights into how people use money. The balance of long-term investment and short-term profit, for example, is a challenge businesses tackle each day. When conditions are predictable, businesses invest in new technology or in educating employees. If there is uncertainty about the future, businesses opt to chase short-term gains at the cost of developing employees or maintaining depreciating equipment.
The same thinking is seen in employees. Those hired 'at-will' start looking around for options at the first whiff of uncertainty in the company outlook. Why invest any more effort into a sinking ship? But those convinced of a longer-term or more stable future - such as students pursuing advanced degrees or certifications - seem more inclined to invest consistent time and effort at the cost of short-term earnings available through part-time work.
The lesson from this book proved highly useful for me in understanding the hidden signals sent by management in my first job. When investments were significant and employees were being encouraged to take training programs, I did not worry about the long-term outlook despite some issues with clients and revenue. I became concerned later (and was, unfortunately, proven correct) when these forward-looking initiatives dried up despite reports of healthy profit margins. I expect understanding this simple rule of thumb will continue to prove a valuable resource for me in the next step of my career.
The understanding has proven useful in more trivial ways outside of work. One such instance came on this day at CVS. I was essentially presented with the same choice the author of Gang Leader for a Day considered - do I take the sure thing now at the risk of losing out on a possibly larger payoff later? Unless the numbers make a deviation obvious, my default strategy is always the former.
It's not like I think CVS is going under tomorrow. But I do consider ways the coupon option might backfire. The receipt - which I believe the NFL uses to measure first downs - is still easy enough to lose. I might also not go to CVS again until after the coupon expires. And of course, I know myself too well - with coupon in hand, I might go to CVS next time and buy something I never purchase on my own dime. Though I do enjoy the odd bag of M&Ms, I must acknowledge such purchases eliminate the 'savings' I realized that time I took an hour to buy toothpaste.
So, the next time you see me standing around a CVS, come over and say hello. I'll have plenty of time to chat.
And bring over a calculator, if you have it.
Footnotes / admin, math, and who gives a shit?
0. Admin!
Since I'm not sure if I (a) ever finished this book or (b) even got this lesson from the book at all, I've chosen not to go with the official layout of these 'LCB' posts (where I list the book, the author, and the approximate season I finished it).
1. Is this how math class goes at Colgate?
This is an example of how the options for unusually challenging trips to CVS present themselves:
Deal 1: Two tubes of toothpaste @ $5 each, second one 50% off.
Deal 2: Two tubes of toothpaste @ $5 each, $3 coupon for next visit.
On the surface, deal 2 is better. Over the liftetime of two trips to CVS (the current one and the next one), I would save $2.50 on deal #1 and save $3 on deal #2.
So, no brainer? Not quite. I do the math to make sure considerations like tube size do not change the calculus ('calculus') above. If deal #2 involves smaller tubes, it might make sense to go with deal #1. In some cases, I also consider the brands in the decision (though in the case of toothpaste this is never a factor I rely on).
A last note before I go: the above is definitely a guess at an example. It is close to what I experienced on the day, no doubt about it, but I do not remember the exact numbers. As I like to say around these parts, I'm not here to defend the numbers, just the formula.
2. Well, sort of, maybe...
Or I should say, I believe I learned, as I read it so long ago I may be confusing it with Off the Books, an earlier Venkatesh book I read only the first half of after enjoying Gang Leader for a Day. As I remember it, the books were fairly similar and I decided I'd had enough of the topic.
"You look like a good shopper."
"How's that?" I asked.
"You've been standing in front of the toothpaste for ten minutes."
I couldn't argue with the facts (though I do contend her watch was a teeny bit fast). To any outsider, I was doing just that: standing in front of the toothpaste in a CVS. Of course, my long-time (and highly sophisticated, and good-looking) readers will know there was another thing going on beneath my world-class shopper exterior.
On this day, the immediate activity was math. CVS often brings this out in me. Some people play little memory games like Sudoku to keep their aging brains sharp; I wander into CVS and try to save seventeen cents on household items. It's all due to their ExtraCare program, a membership system offering rotating weekly sales and deals to shoppers who sign up for a rewards card.
The puzzle I was trying to solve was whether I would do better to go with the Colgate 'buy one, get one 50% off' deal or pay for two individual tubes of a different brand at full price to get a $3 coupon for my next visit. It was a very close call and I was utilizing the full complement of skills I honed as a double mathematics and economics major to make my decision (1).
In these kinds of situations, I sometimes recall a lesson I learned from a book called Gang Leader for a Day by Sudhir Venkatesh (2). Venkatesh, a sociology professor, researched this book by immersing himself in a Chicago gang for nearly a decade. One story he shares comes in the form of a business case challenge from a gang member.
As I remember it (though I do feel like I'm making some of this up) the deal involved two options for a drug sale. The first option was to make one sale of the drugs at a 20% profit. The price for future sales would be negotiated at the time of the next sale. The second options was to arrange a series of deals, each separate transaction within the series resulting in a 10% profit. For simplicity, let's say each percentage point in profit is equal to one dollar and the proposed series is one deal every first Sunday of the month for a year.
No brainer, says Venkatesh, take option two. Over the series, the total profit will be larger. $120 is greater than $20. Plus, it covers us in case something changes with the price...
Wrong, comes the response. In this business, uncertainty is to be avoided at all costs. Dealers could die, go to jail, or just get chased out of the area. When there is uncertainty, all contracts are one day arrangements and smart business means jumping at any opportunity for short-term gain.
I've always thought this example contained a number of profound insights into how people use money. The balance of long-term investment and short-term profit, for example, is a challenge businesses tackle each day. When conditions are predictable, businesses invest in new technology or in educating employees. If there is uncertainty about the future, businesses opt to chase short-term gains at the cost of developing employees or maintaining depreciating equipment.
The same thinking is seen in employees. Those hired 'at-will' start looking around for options at the first whiff of uncertainty in the company outlook. Why invest any more effort into a sinking ship? But those convinced of a longer-term or more stable future - such as students pursuing advanced degrees or certifications - seem more inclined to invest consistent time and effort at the cost of short-term earnings available through part-time work.
The lesson from this book proved highly useful for me in understanding the hidden signals sent by management in my first job. When investments were significant and employees were being encouraged to take training programs, I did not worry about the long-term outlook despite some issues with clients and revenue. I became concerned later (and was, unfortunately, proven correct) when these forward-looking initiatives dried up despite reports of healthy profit margins. I expect understanding this simple rule of thumb will continue to prove a valuable resource for me in the next step of my career.
The understanding has proven useful in more trivial ways outside of work. One such instance came on this day at CVS. I was essentially presented with the same choice the author of Gang Leader for a Day considered - do I take the sure thing now at the risk of losing out on a possibly larger payoff later? Unless the numbers make a deviation obvious, my default strategy is always the former.
It's not like I think CVS is going under tomorrow. But I do consider ways the coupon option might backfire. The receipt - which I believe the NFL uses to measure first downs - is still easy enough to lose. I might also not go to CVS again until after the coupon expires. And of course, I know myself too well - with coupon in hand, I might go to CVS next time and buy something I never purchase on my own dime. Though I do enjoy the odd bag of M&Ms, I must acknowledge such purchases eliminate the 'savings' I realized that time I took an hour to buy toothpaste.
So, the next time you see me standing around a CVS, come over and say hello. I'll have plenty of time to chat.
And bring over a calculator, if you have it.
Footnotes / admin, math, and who gives a shit?
0. Admin!
Since I'm not sure if I (a) ever finished this book or (b) even got this lesson from the book at all, I've chosen not to go with the official layout of these 'LCB' posts (where I list the book, the author, and the approximate season I finished it).
1. Is this how math class goes at Colgate?
This is an example of how the options for unusually challenging trips to CVS present themselves:
Deal 1: Two tubes of toothpaste @ $5 each, second one 50% off.
Deal 2: Two tubes of toothpaste @ $5 each, $3 coupon for next visit.
On the surface, deal 2 is better. Over the liftetime of two trips to CVS (the current one and the next one), I would save $2.50 on deal #1 and save $3 on deal #2.
So, no brainer? Not quite. I do the math to make sure considerations like tube size do not change the calculus ('calculus') above. If deal #2 involves smaller tubes, it might make sense to go with deal #1. In some cases, I also consider the brands in the decision (though in the case of toothpaste this is never a factor I rely on).
A last note before I go: the above is definitely a guess at an example. It is close to what I experienced on the day, no doubt about it, but I do not remember the exact numbers. As I like to say around these parts, I'm not here to defend the numbers, just the formula.
2. Well, sort of, maybe...
Or I should say, I believe I learned, as I read it so long ago I may be confusing it with Off the Books, an earlier Venkatesh book I read only the first half of after enjoying Gang Leader for a Day. As I remember it, the books were fairly similar and I decided I'd had enough of the topic.
Saturday, April 21, 2018
i read the unwritten laws of engineering so you don't have to
Hi all,
Next Saturday’s review will be a little different than usual. Up until now, anything I wrote about in the weekend space was based on a book I’d read. Next week’s post will be about three articles I read online (please refer to the endnotes for the link to these articles).
I’m making an exception for The Unwritten Laws of Engineering by W.J. King. The main reason is that King’s 1944 book was not very easy to find - if I could have gotten the book, I would have, and then written about it here.
I do know that much – if not all – of this work was released in a series of articles published by Mechanical Engineering magazine in 1944. So when I found the articles I link to below, I figured it was close enough to what I wanted that I printed the articles out and treated it like a short book.
Months after I finished reading, I’m still not sure if what I read was the real thing or not (editor's note: probably not). It’s possibly just a series of excerpts from the original. Luckily, I took enough from whatever it was that I’d read to figure it was worth reviewing here. At the end of the day, it’s not really the medium that counts when I consider writing about it here. What matters is whether I think others will want to read about what I learned.
Thanks for reading.
Tim
Footnotes / well, endnotes / admin
0. Click here for the link…
All three articles are accessed through the one link, actually. Twenty-one total pages...
Though I did go to the step of writing next week’s ‘reading review’, I did not go so far as to counting these articles as a book on my year end reading list.
Next Saturday’s review will be a little different than usual. Up until now, anything I wrote about in the weekend space was based on a book I’d read. Next week’s post will be about three articles I read online (please refer to the endnotes for the link to these articles).
I’m making an exception for The Unwritten Laws of Engineering by W.J. King. The main reason is that King’s 1944 book was not very easy to find - if I could have gotten the book, I would have, and then written about it here.
I do know that much – if not all – of this work was released in a series of articles published by Mechanical Engineering magazine in 1944. So when I found the articles I link to below, I figured it was close enough to what I wanted that I printed the articles out and treated it like a short book.
Months after I finished reading, I’m still not sure if what I read was the real thing or not (editor's note: probably not). It’s possibly just a series of excerpts from the original. Luckily, I took enough from whatever it was that I’d read to figure it was worth reviewing here. At the end of the day, it’s not really the medium that counts when I consider writing about it here. What matters is whether I think others will want to read about what I learned.
Thanks for reading.
Tim
Footnotes / well, endnotes / admin
0. Click here for the link…
All three articles are accessed through the one link, actually. Twenty-one total pages...
Though I did go to the step of writing next week’s ‘reading review’, I did not go so far as to counting these articles as a book on my year end reading list.
Friday, April 20, 2018
leftovers #2: i gotta pokemon go...
This post is the record holder for longest incubation period. I wrote most of it in August 2016. I kept more of it than I anticipated - perhaps around fifty percent.
There were more puns in the original that I ended up cutting out. And the ranting! Here is one such excerpt:
There were more puns in the original that I ended up cutting out. And the ranting! Here is one such excerpt:
"Based on all the humanity found sitting around, lounging about, or bumping aimlessly into one another while trying to snare their fifth Jigglypuff of the hour, I am certain that if those swans posed any threat at all to humankind it surely would have manifested by now with some Gastly incident involving someone Seaking a Pikachu wandering by accident onto the top of a nesting swan's head. I owe those swans an apology. I'm sorry, swans."Make any sense to you? Ditto. Just ask your friendliest Pokemon enthusiast to explain.
Thursday, April 19, 2018
the business bro's favorite analogy of 2017
Good morning,
Below is the 'double post' my counterpart referenced in yesterday's blubbering post. The 'doubling' he was talking about is in concept only - 'my favorite analogy of 2017' was already covered last Tuesday.
However, surely we all can agree that doubling topics is, if anything, TOA's specialty?
Oh well.
Good luck, reader.
Signed,
The Business Bro
*********
In The Case Against Sugar, Gary Taubes makes an analogy to describe why the 'calories in, calories out' model of weight change makes no sense to him. He compares it to an explanation for a room becoming full: saying people gain weight by eating more calories than they expend is like saying a room is becoming crowded because more people are entering than leaving. Although it explains what is happening, it fails to account for why it is happening.
The question of why is a critical one in most cases. In the case of metabolism, the key question is not how many more calories are entering than exiting - the question is why some calories are being stored as fat instead of being burnt up as energy. Why are some overweight people lethargic? Shouldn't the stored calories in the fat cells ramp up the energy level until they are all burnt up? The status quo represented by 'calories in, calories out' fails to explain why in any sense of the word.
Unfortunately, the explanation is also logically irrefutable. The 'calories in, calories out' model makes it easy to dismiss the overweight or obese as simply having Eaten Too Much or Exercised Too Little. It fools the public into thinking the science is irrefutable and shifts the burden of responsibility for weight control to people struggling with their weight. In many cases, these people are driving themselves to exhaustion in simply doing their best every day to feed themselves healthy food in a controlled way - that they do this while also dealing with all the stigma and pressure coming from the generally ignorant society around them is remarkable.
There are probably many similar arguments in other fields that await a clear thinker to recognize the tautology of an accepted explanation. This thinker will stop one day and ask - wait, this is only describing what, not explaining why. And off we'll go on a journey towards the next great human breakthrough...
Each person willing to step up and call it like it is represents an opportunity for others to question assumptions, apply the newest research techniques, and eventually move our quality of life forward by another step. In the context of nutrition, my money is on someone who upends the 'calories in, calories out' model entirely - perhaps by proving that weight gain is more like an allergic reaction to certain types of food than it is like a room overbooked with guests becoming increasingly more congested.
Below is the 'double post' my counterpart referenced in yesterday's blubbering post. The 'doubling' he was talking about is in concept only - 'my favorite analogy of 2017' was already covered last Tuesday.
However, surely we all can agree that doubling topics is, if anything, TOA's specialty?
Oh well.
Good luck, reader.
Signed,
The Business Bro
*********
In The Case Against Sugar, Gary Taubes makes an analogy to describe why the 'calories in, calories out' model of weight change makes no sense to him. He compares it to an explanation for a room becoming full: saying people gain weight by eating more calories than they expend is like saying a room is becoming crowded because more people are entering than leaving. Although it explains what is happening, it fails to account for why it is happening.
The question of why is a critical one in most cases. In the case of metabolism, the key question is not how many more calories are entering than exiting - the question is why some calories are being stored as fat instead of being burnt up as energy. Why are some overweight people lethargic? Shouldn't the stored calories in the fat cells ramp up the energy level until they are all burnt up? The status quo represented by 'calories in, calories out' fails to explain why in any sense of the word.
Unfortunately, the explanation is also logically irrefutable. The 'calories in, calories out' model makes it easy to dismiss the overweight or obese as simply having Eaten Too Much or Exercised Too Little. It fools the public into thinking the science is irrefutable and shifts the burden of responsibility for weight control to people struggling with their weight. In many cases, these people are driving themselves to exhaustion in simply doing their best every day to feed themselves healthy food in a controlled way - that they do this while also dealing with all the stigma and pressure coming from the generally ignorant society around them is remarkable.
There are probably many similar arguments in other fields that await a clear thinker to recognize the tautology of an accepted explanation. This thinker will stop one day and ask - wait, this is only describing what, not explaining why. And off we'll go on a journey towards the next great human breakthrough...
Each person willing to step up and call it like it is represents an opportunity for others to question assumptions, apply the newest research techniques, and eventually move our quality of life forward by another step. In the context of nutrition, my money is on someone who upends the 'calories in, calories out' model entirely - perhaps by proving that weight gain is more like an allergic reaction to certain types of food than it is like a room overbooked with guests becoming increasingly more congested.
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
so a funny thing happened...
Last Tuesday, I posted my thoughts linking an analogy from Gary Taubes's Case Against Sugar to a concept in Bruce Arians's Quarterback Whisperer. I thought it was a good post, clever even. Most importantly, I was happy with how easily the words came to me. It was like I knew what to say, you know, reader? I was in the zone...
So, imagine my surprise a short while later when I came on here and found that I had basically written the same post already! I suppose a 'double post' was inevitable with all the nonsense I put myself through in terms of scheduling out. But still, I wasn't very happy.
I decided on the following approach:
Well, sort of...
You'll see. Maybe
Thanks for rereading.
Tim
So, imagine my surprise a short while later when I came on here and found that I had basically written the same post already! I suppose a 'double post' was inevitable with all the nonsense I put myself through in terms of scheduling out. But still, I wasn't very happy.
I decided on the following approach:
1. Keep the posts more or less identical in terms of topic
2. Explore the slightly different paths that branch outWhat does all that mean? Well, not much to you, I'm sure, but you'll see tomorrow - my first ever double post...
Well, sort of...
You'll see. Maybe
Thanks for rereading.
Tim
Tuesday, April 17, 2018
leftovers #2: the 2017 toa awards - music
Hi all,
In no particular order, here are some specific performances I very much enjoyed in 2017.
‘Rose In The Heather’ by Celtic Social Club
As I mentioned in a prior post, this was one of the two groups I saw in 2017. The fiddle player - who I believe is Pierre Stephan - is really worth seeing in person. Everything the band accomplishes runs through him.
As an audience member, it was a fascinating experience to watch. During the portion of the song when there was no fiddle, Stephan simply sat on his stool and waited, instrument down by his knee, appearing almost lifeless to us in the audience. He would wait like a solid stone statue until the fiddle part approached. Then, slowly, he would lift the instrument into playing position. When his part came around, he burst into life and dazzled the audience once more.
This song is the band’s standard concert closer. It is basically an extended excuse to get out of Stephan’s way while he plays at top speed for several minutes.
‘Rental Love’ by Lake Street Dive
‘Rental Love’ is a short, simple showcase of each band member’s strengths (well, the drummer excepted, I guess). This was a song I mostly ignored back in 2015 when I first listened to Bad Self Portraits. As I’ve come back around to take a deeper dive into their work, I found I liked this song as much as all the other tracks I enjoyed back in 2015.
‘On The Ground’ by Rubblebucket
Rubblebucket did pretty well for me in 2017 and they contributed a number of good candidates for this song of the year concept. I think this somewhat restrained version of ‘On The Ground’ is the best one for me. The opening notes always touch me and I often find the song stays with me long after I’ve finished listening.
‘American Pie’ by John Mayer
I came across this track by accident. First, I looked up Tom Petty concert footage after his passing in October. In addition to discovering many of his performances, I also found myself redirected to cover performances by various other artists.
I eventually found my way to Mayer playing an acoustic version of “Freefallin” - itself a very strong performance - and I guess those wizards over at Youtube HQ took the hint and recommended I try another Mayer cover performance. This recommendation was a video from David Letterman’s show a few years ago. Mayer’s performance – outside of his strange confusion regarding ‘the jester’ – does the song full justice. It’s a great representative of why I like cover performances so much (1).
‘The Little Things That Give You Away’ by U2
What can I say about U2 that hasn’t been said already? They are great, they are old, they are past their prime, they are still able to put on a great performance, get off my iPod, blah blah blah…
The way musicians age is probably not all that different from how athletes age. Over time, the performance level slowly declines as the body gives in to the creeping demands of age. Those accustomed to seeing a top performance, night in and night out, start to notice the slippage. Gone are the highest notes and the bone-rattling drum beats. The sprints up and down the stage become jogs, then walks.
In the recording studio, I imagine the aging process takes a little longer to show. But eventually, albums that once produced hit after hit might now just leave us with one or two, at most. And the cultural impact of said hit would pale in comparison to the leading lights of past albums.
Last summer, I first heard this track off their newest album, Songs of Experience. What was I expecting? Pretty much a manifestation of those previous two paragraphs. And in a lot of ways, this song was the same as always: a resemblance to the past, an enjoyable few minutes of music, and a prompt to boot up the concert footage from the 80’s or 90’s when the song was over so that I could relive the glory days I was too young to actually experience.
But surprisingly, this song grew on me. Unlike ‘Every Breaking Wave’ - the best track from the previous Songs of Innocence album - this song sounded more like U2 with each performance. It started to feel like an accomplishment, a rolling back of the years in terms of performance, yet it managed to balance this innocent nod to past with the accumulated wisdom they've earned over four-plus decades of turning experience into music.
The challenge for all artists, no matter what age, is to dig out what is locked away within. The good ones go in and collect what they know is there. The better ones do a little more work and find what they know is buried just a short way beneath the surface.
And the best? In many ways, I think what they do is a lot like the good or the better. The best, too, dig out what is locked away. But the difference is not knowing. The best artists dig without a treasurer map. They dig when what’s locked away is unknown. The best still dig even when they don't know what’s there. They dig until they find it. It’s this quality, this little thing, that makes the best the best. And unfortunately, I suspect it's this little thing that dooms the very best to ultimately finish their career with a performance no one asked for.
But you know what, reader? Time and again, the naysayers have said nay. They’ve said things like ‘there is nothing left here to dig up, so go home’ to those who've only known the way of the shovel. Lucky for us, U2 never listens to anyone...
I say if U2 wants to keep digging for another forty years, I’ll bring the shovels. And to you, reasonable reader, I suggest checking out at least one or two songs from the new album - you will be pleasantly surprised (2).
Footnotes / extended reminiscing
1. And landed...FOUL...on the grass...
'American Pie'…I hadn’t heard this song in years. And I couldn’t believe what this song made me feel after so long. Way back in the day, 'American Pie' was my favorite song.
Now, a fun fact, reader - this was the first song whose lyrics I entirely memorized. I’m not sure I how I managed this feat in second grade, reader, for two reasons.
First, the song is eight minutes long.
But more importantly, this is surprising because I only heard it every once in a while on the car radio. Add in the fact that my mom hated the radio and thus it was never on when she was in the car and this feat is even more impressive (or just more likely to be fabricated).
That was life twenty years ago – just waiting around in the car and hoping the spirit of radio would deliver. I think Rush sang about it, once.
2. This sounds like a good way to market the blog...
True On Average - you will be pleasantly surprised!
In no particular order, here are some specific performances I very much enjoyed in 2017.
‘Rose In The Heather’ by Celtic Social Club
As I mentioned in a prior post, this was one of the two groups I saw in 2017. The fiddle player - who I believe is Pierre Stephan - is really worth seeing in person. Everything the band accomplishes runs through him.
As an audience member, it was a fascinating experience to watch. During the portion of the song when there was no fiddle, Stephan simply sat on his stool and waited, instrument down by his knee, appearing almost lifeless to us in the audience. He would wait like a solid stone statue until the fiddle part approached. Then, slowly, he would lift the instrument into playing position. When his part came around, he burst into life and dazzled the audience once more.
This song is the band’s standard concert closer. It is basically an extended excuse to get out of Stephan’s way while he plays at top speed for several minutes.
‘Rental Love’ by Lake Street Dive
‘Rental Love’ is a short, simple showcase of each band member’s strengths (well, the drummer excepted, I guess). This was a song I mostly ignored back in 2015 when I first listened to Bad Self Portraits. As I’ve come back around to take a deeper dive into their work, I found I liked this song as much as all the other tracks I enjoyed back in 2015.
‘On The Ground’ by Rubblebucket
Rubblebucket did pretty well for me in 2017 and they contributed a number of good candidates for this song of the year concept. I think this somewhat restrained version of ‘On The Ground’ is the best one for me. The opening notes always touch me and I often find the song stays with me long after I’ve finished listening.
‘American Pie’ by John Mayer
I came across this track by accident. First, I looked up Tom Petty concert footage after his passing in October. In addition to discovering many of his performances, I also found myself redirected to cover performances by various other artists.
I eventually found my way to Mayer playing an acoustic version of “Freefallin” - itself a very strong performance - and I guess those wizards over at Youtube HQ took the hint and recommended I try another Mayer cover performance. This recommendation was a video from David Letterman’s show a few years ago. Mayer’s performance – outside of his strange confusion regarding ‘the jester’ – does the song full justice. It’s a great representative of why I like cover performances so much (1).
‘The Little Things That Give You Away’ by U2
What can I say about U2 that hasn’t been said already? They are great, they are old, they are past their prime, they are still able to put on a great performance, get off my iPod, blah blah blah…
The way musicians age is probably not all that different from how athletes age. Over time, the performance level slowly declines as the body gives in to the creeping demands of age. Those accustomed to seeing a top performance, night in and night out, start to notice the slippage. Gone are the highest notes and the bone-rattling drum beats. The sprints up and down the stage become jogs, then walks.
In the recording studio, I imagine the aging process takes a little longer to show. But eventually, albums that once produced hit after hit might now just leave us with one or two, at most. And the cultural impact of said hit would pale in comparison to the leading lights of past albums.
Last summer, I first heard this track off their newest album, Songs of Experience. What was I expecting? Pretty much a manifestation of those previous two paragraphs. And in a lot of ways, this song was the same as always: a resemblance to the past, an enjoyable few minutes of music, and a prompt to boot up the concert footage from the 80’s or 90’s when the song was over so that I could relive the glory days I was too young to actually experience.
But surprisingly, this song grew on me. Unlike ‘Every Breaking Wave’ - the best track from the previous Songs of Innocence album - this song sounded more like U2 with each performance. It started to feel like an accomplishment, a rolling back of the years in terms of performance, yet it managed to balance this innocent nod to past with the accumulated wisdom they've earned over four-plus decades of turning experience into music.
The challenge for all artists, no matter what age, is to dig out what is locked away within. The good ones go in and collect what they know is there. The better ones do a little more work and find what they know is buried just a short way beneath the surface.
And the best? In many ways, I think what they do is a lot like the good or the better. The best, too, dig out what is locked away. But the difference is not knowing. The best artists dig without a treasurer map. They dig when what’s locked away is unknown. The best still dig even when they don't know what’s there. They dig until they find it. It’s this quality, this little thing, that makes the best the best. And unfortunately, I suspect it's this little thing that dooms the very best to ultimately finish their career with a performance no one asked for.
But you know what, reader? Time and again, the naysayers have said nay. They’ve said things like ‘there is nothing left here to dig up, so go home’ to those who've only known the way of the shovel. Lucky for us, U2 never listens to anyone...
I say if U2 wants to keep digging for another forty years, I’ll bring the shovels. And to you, reasonable reader, I suggest checking out at least one or two songs from the new album - you will be pleasantly surprised (2).
Footnotes / extended reminiscing
1. And landed...FOUL...on the grass...
'American Pie'…I hadn’t heard this song in years. And I couldn’t believe what this song made me feel after so long. Way back in the day, 'American Pie' was my favorite song.
Now, a fun fact, reader - this was the first song whose lyrics I entirely memorized. I’m not sure I how I managed this feat in second grade, reader, for two reasons.
First, the song is eight minutes long.
But more importantly, this is surprising because I only heard it every once in a while on the car radio. Add in the fact that my mom hated the radio and thus it was never on when she was in the car and this feat is even more impressive (or just more likely to be fabricated).
That was life twenty years ago – just waiting around in the car and hoping the spirit of radio would deliver. I think Rush sang about it, once.
2. This sounds like a good way to market the blog...
True On Average - you will be pleasantly surprised!
Monday, April 16, 2018
leftovers: peeling back the layers - with moya...
Sit, Moya, sit, honestly son, did you think a runner would give up running, just for a little injury, oh Moya, have a whiskey, runners run, they run out until they run out, this is why it is called running, why they are called runners, honestly, did you think a little knee pain or hip strain or existential crisis would do it, the only bigger fool than the runner is the reader, the reader who thought one injury should do it, one injury is sufficient evidence, judge and jury indeed, ruling on the verdict, cease, cease, to cease running, the injury says, I say it takes a hundred injuries before one stops running, perhaps even death, otherwise a runner isn't a runner, a runner must run, and always run, on and on and on, what else is there to do, Moya, even I don't spend the entire day talking, even I don't spend the entire day drinking, drinking these whiskeys, I have my hobbies too, Moya, I find things to do in this city, in the middle of this city where people save up all year, all life, their dollars and pounds and euros, save save save, depriving themselves of simple pleasures and joys like this whiskey, do you not like your whiskey, Moya, drink up, drink up, save up, save up, all year, to come here, as the tourist books say, look at all the things to do in Boston, come ride the duck boat, come walk the river, come and sit with me, sit here with a whiskey or sit on the platform and wait for the 'T', late again, Moya, always late, but for me, I wake up, nice and early, I wake up and review my reading or write these blog posts or pack a lunch and wonder to myself, I wonder if my watch is broken, Moya, I wonder how it could only be ten AM, but I don't just go buy a new watch, I don't just throw it all away, maybe I'm wrong, maybe I need to do better, and that's the problem, Moya, that's why a runner runs, because why throw it all away, why after just one injury or two, what if the runner is wrong, not injured at all, then what, then what else is there to do, even in this town with so much to do, about which many bookshelves are filled with tourist guides, about Boston, come to Boston, and yet even the busiest resident must run at least once per weekend, Moya, otherwise what else would you do, what else is there, Moya, to do except run, a little bit, looking for something better to do with my spare time, I don't even know what time it is Moya, what time is it, maybe time to find something better to do with my time...
Sunday, April 15, 2018
life changing books: sql for dummies
SQL For Dummies by Allen Taylor (Summer 2013)
I kid you not, dear reader, a proper ‘for dummies’ book changed my life…
I checked out SQL For Dummies as reference material for work because I found myself asking more frequent questions about our programming language. I went with the book format because I wanted a more reliable alternative than Google (this was, like, ages ago - those were the good old days).
I think I ended up keeping it for about three months, a decision that cost me exactly $2.10 in overdue fees. It was money well spent, however. For the price of two sips of Guinness, I got extended time with this book.
One major impact this book had on my life was how it helped me confirm what I now consider a fairly foolproof entry-level work philosophy – always get involved in projects that cultivate skills valued outside the organization. In my first role as a data analyst, the most valuable such skill I could feasibly learn on the job was SQL programming. By checking out this book, I started the process of getting myself out of assignments requiring low-value skills that no one outside my organization would care about (like researching health insurance contracts, which requires and thus cultivates having high attention to detail, being detail oriented, being organized) and into projects where I would be asked to program in SQL (which requires all the same skills listed for ‘researching contracts’, anyway, but applies to any company that uses a database, which is all of them) (1).
The second big change involved my mentality toward learning. Up until this point, I think I was in two minds about my post-college education. At work, my approach to learning was the equivalent of my mentality when I was taking college classes. My knowledge level, in general, rose as I participated in company sponsored training. The promise was ‘learn this and it will work out’ and there was no reason to believe otherwise. Each day, I felt I was gaining valuable experience as I learned from those better versed in the industry, company, or team. But I never really learned anything I could apply to the job. If I waited four years, maybe it would work out. But I'd just waited four years studying irrelevant things like written Japanese, US history, and advanced statistics - who could have waited for four more years while looking at health insurance data?
Outside of work, my approach was the equivalent of my mentality when I was training for basketball. I was less concerned about an abstract concept of ‘my knowledge level’ and instead focused on picking out specific skills or areas for improvement. Just as I used to do specific drills or training to improve in one aspect of basketball, I would find books that best cultivated my ability to handle one aspect of my non-work life. I would think of a question, like 'how does the stove work?' and check out a book like 'How The Stove Works' (not a real book, or at least, not one I’m aware of, but I hope you get the idea). My general knowledge level did not rise very much because of my targeted reading (outside of absorbing what I read, of course). But I was learning valuable skills that I could apply to answer specific questions.
SQL For Dummies signaled a turning point – or maybe a merging point is a better expression. This book was the moment at work when I started doing things with the same process that helped me outside of work. Instead of worrying about collecting answers for abstract future questions by accumulating knowledge, I started to look for skills to develop in order to answer the immediate questions of the work on that day (2).
Footnotes / frankly speaking… / highway analogies
0. For dummies, a history…
This book is definitely a classic ‘For Dummies’ work – the cover has big words on a yellow background and everything. It’s only one of two ‘for dummies’ book I’ve ever studied. The other was Chess For Dummies, a book I remember enjoying despite its complete lack of positive impact on my chess ability.
1. The reality: most people switch jobs eventually…
The toughest part of determining what the highest value skill a job can teach is to simply imagine how a different employer might view the skill. In my former position, I had the opportunity to learn client service skills as well as becoming an expert in Excel analysis. However, the applications of these skills in the company were so specific to the organization’s needs that learning these would not position me as well for a new role as learning how to program a database did.
2. Actually, swerve lane also works…
Interestingly, this change at work was mirrored in my reading. Books that appeared like answers to my targeted questions gave way to books that simply built my knowledge base. As it turns out, collecting wisdom to answer the unknown questions of the future proved more relevant outside of work. Things in life happen with much more ambiguity and much less predictability than things at work.
I kid you not, dear reader, a proper ‘for dummies’ book changed my life…
I checked out SQL For Dummies as reference material for work because I found myself asking more frequent questions about our programming language. I went with the book format because I wanted a more reliable alternative than Google (this was, like, ages ago - those were the good old days).
I think I ended up keeping it for about three months, a decision that cost me exactly $2.10 in overdue fees. It was money well spent, however. For the price of two sips of Guinness, I got extended time with this book.
One major impact this book had on my life was how it helped me confirm what I now consider a fairly foolproof entry-level work philosophy – always get involved in projects that cultivate skills valued outside the organization. In my first role as a data analyst, the most valuable such skill I could feasibly learn on the job was SQL programming. By checking out this book, I started the process of getting myself out of assignments requiring low-value skills that no one outside my organization would care about (like researching health insurance contracts, which requires and thus cultivates having high attention to detail, being detail oriented, being organized) and into projects where I would be asked to program in SQL (which requires all the same skills listed for ‘researching contracts’, anyway, but applies to any company that uses a database, which is all of them) (1).
The second big change involved my mentality toward learning. Up until this point, I think I was in two minds about my post-college education. At work, my approach to learning was the equivalent of my mentality when I was taking college classes. My knowledge level, in general, rose as I participated in company sponsored training. The promise was ‘learn this and it will work out’ and there was no reason to believe otherwise. Each day, I felt I was gaining valuable experience as I learned from those better versed in the industry, company, or team. But I never really learned anything I could apply to the job. If I waited four years, maybe it would work out. But I'd just waited four years studying irrelevant things like written Japanese, US history, and advanced statistics - who could have waited for four more years while looking at health insurance data?
Outside of work, my approach was the equivalent of my mentality when I was training for basketball. I was less concerned about an abstract concept of ‘my knowledge level’ and instead focused on picking out specific skills or areas for improvement. Just as I used to do specific drills or training to improve in one aspect of basketball, I would find books that best cultivated my ability to handle one aspect of my non-work life. I would think of a question, like 'how does the stove work?' and check out a book like 'How The Stove Works' (not a real book, or at least, not one I’m aware of, but I hope you get the idea). My general knowledge level did not rise very much because of my targeted reading (outside of absorbing what I read, of course). But I was learning valuable skills that I could apply to answer specific questions.
SQL For Dummies signaled a turning point – or maybe a merging point is a better expression. This book was the moment at work when I started doing things with the same process that helped me outside of work. Instead of worrying about collecting answers for abstract future questions by accumulating knowledge, I started to look for skills to develop in order to answer the immediate questions of the work on that day (2).
Footnotes / frankly speaking… / highway analogies
0. For dummies, a history…
This book is definitely a classic ‘For Dummies’ work – the cover has big words on a yellow background and everything. It’s only one of two ‘for dummies’ book I’ve ever studied. The other was Chess For Dummies, a book I remember enjoying despite its complete lack of positive impact on my chess ability.
1. The reality: most people switch jobs eventually…
The toughest part of determining what the highest value skill a job can teach is to simply imagine how a different employer might view the skill. In my former position, I had the opportunity to learn client service skills as well as becoming an expert in Excel analysis. However, the applications of these skills in the company were so specific to the organization’s needs that learning these would not position me as well for a new role as learning how to program a database did.
2. Actually, swerve lane also works…
Interestingly, this change at work was mirrored in my reading. Books that appeared like answers to my targeted questions gave way to books that simply built my knowledge base. As it turns out, collecting wisdom to answer the unknown questions of the future proved more relevant outside of work. Things in life happen with much more ambiguity and much less predictability than things at work.
Saturday, April 14, 2018
reading review: the hard thing about hard things, part five
Another examination of some really good observations I did not (somehow) cover in the first few posts I wrote about The Hard Thing About Hard Things.
The first was about CEO 'types'. One types loves to make complex decisions. This sort can spend an entire day thinking about strategy and gathering information. Two types enjoy making a company run well. Thinking about strategy makes the 'two type' gets antsy. However, these CEOs excel at optimizing process, creating accountability, or setting goals. Many organizations struggle when the CEO in charge is the wrong type to face the challenges facing the organization in the present moment.
The distinction reminded me of something I’ve noticed while following sports over the past two decades or so. Some coaches are like the first type. They excel at using their extensive knowledge to recruit new players and fit them into the team. Their teams become known for having strong cultures and a distinct style of play. Other coaches resemble the second type. These coaches are tactical masterminds and find ways to defeat teams boasting greater resources or talent.
The challenge for the sports teams does not differ from the one faced by any kind of organization. Most coaches tend toward one type or the other. As their strengths are applied to the team, the team starts to reflect the character of the coach. In order to remain balanced, the team will need an infusion of the other ‘type’ of leadership. At this point, the coach might become redundant if he or she lacks the skills needed to switch leadership styles. (1)
The second observation was a point about business books in general (2). Horowitz writes about how management books generally study ‘peacetime’ companies. He defines ‘peacetime’ companies as any having an edge on competitors in a growing market. They can reinforce their strengths while aiding ongoing market expansion. The other type of company is one ‘at war’. In this state, companies are fending off existential threats and doing everything in their power to survive one more day.
These conditions require radically different CEO mentalities. In peace, leaders must encourage broad creativity. In war, leaders must require obedience and alignment with a singular objective. To navigate both requires CEOs intuitively understand when to follow management principles and when to discard them (3).
So, what’s the problem with writing about peacetime companies? I have two possible answers. First, it is easy to get away with mistakes when things are going well. A writer on the outside might look at these mistakes and not understand how harmful applying the same techniques would be in any other context. Workplace quality is one such example. As The Business Bro commented in his post about this book, when things are going well, it doesn’t always matter if the company is a good place to work or not. But if the organization is in trouble, it can make the difference between success and failure because people will stay and fight for an organization they like working for.
The second reason is the fact that most businesses fail. Logically, a business will enter a ‘wartime’ situation before it fails. Having the right skills to stay afloat is required for survival; therefore, any business that still exists must have these skills (and if the the business does fail, there isn't an outwardly obvious reason to write about it). Since there are no obvious differences in survival skill among businesses that still exist, I imagine it is very challenging for a writer to determine whether one business is better equipped with survival skills than another.
Footnotes / imagined complaints
1. Some coaches get around this problem through delegation!
Delegation seems like a good solution in general. Couldn’t a CEO of the first type seek out executives of the second type? I suspect the obstacle to this approach is ego, a problem far easier to point out than resolve. If a ‘thinking’ CEO hands over certain decision-making responsibilities and the company does well, who should really get the credit?
2. And, more specifically, about Jim Collins.
Horowitz makes a couple of snippy remarks about the 'wisdom' of business books written by authors who’ve never run a business. I’ve read some of Collins’s work over the years and I'm pretty certain the comments are aimed directly at Good To Great, a book I received as a gift for my college graduation.
3. Sports, again…
The peacetime/wartime distinction brings to mind yet another sports comparison. Some teams are simply better at winning close games than others. I think a coach or a captain with a ‘wartime’ mentality leads these teams. In a close game, they quickly discard the notion of playing with creativity, flourish, or flair. They simply focus themselves and their teams on the singular task of winning the game and demand full commitment to the task from those around them.
The first was about CEO 'types'. One types loves to make complex decisions. This sort can spend an entire day thinking about strategy and gathering information. Two types enjoy making a company run well. Thinking about strategy makes the 'two type' gets antsy. However, these CEOs excel at optimizing process, creating accountability, or setting goals. Many organizations struggle when the CEO in charge is the wrong type to face the challenges facing the organization in the present moment.
The distinction reminded me of something I’ve noticed while following sports over the past two decades or so. Some coaches are like the first type. They excel at using their extensive knowledge to recruit new players and fit them into the team. Their teams become known for having strong cultures and a distinct style of play. Other coaches resemble the second type. These coaches are tactical masterminds and find ways to defeat teams boasting greater resources or talent.
The challenge for the sports teams does not differ from the one faced by any kind of organization. Most coaches tend toward one type or the other. As their strengths are applied to the team, the team starts to reflect the character of the coach. In order to remain balanced, the team will need an infusion of the other ‘type’ of leadership. At this point, the coach might become redundant if he or she lacks the skills needed to switch leadership styles. (1)
The second observation was a point about business books in general (2). Horowitz writes about how management books generally study ‘peacetime’ companies. He defines ‘peacetime’ companies as any having an edge on competitors in a growing market. They can reinforce their strengths while aiding ongoing market expansion. The other type of company is one ‘at war’. In this state, companies are fending off existential threats and doing everything in their power to survive one more day.
These conditions require radically different CEO mentalities. In peace, leaders must encourage broad creativity. In war, leaders must require obedience and alignment with a singular objective. To navigate both requires CEOs intuitively understand when to follow management principles and when to discard them (3).
So, what’s the problem with writing about peacetime companies? I have two possible answers. First, it is easy to get away with mistakes when things are going well. A writer on the outside might look at these mistakes and not understand how harmful applying the same techniques would be in any other context. Workplace quality is one such example. As The Business Bro commented in his post about this book, when things are going well, it doesn’t always matter if the company is a good place to work or not. But if the organization is in trouble, it can make the difference between success and failure because people will stay and fight for an organization they like working for.
The second reason is the fact that most businesses fail. Logically, a business will enter a ‘wartime’ situation before it fails. Having the right skills to stay afloat is required for survival; therefore, any business that still exists must have these skills (and if the the business does fail, there isn't an outwardly obvious reason to write about it). Since there are no obvious differences in survival skill among businesses that still exist, I imagine it is very challenging for a writer to determine whether one business is better equipped with survival skills than another.
Footnotes / imagined complaints
1. Some coaches get around this problem through delegation!
Delegation seems like a good solution in general. Couldn’t a CEO of the first type seek out executives of the second type? I suspect the obstacle to this approach is ego, a problem far easier to point out than resolve. If a ‘thinking’ CEO hands over certain decision-making responsibilities and the company does well, who should really get the credit?
2. And, more specifically, about Jim Collins.
Horowitz makes a couple of snippy remarks about the 'wisdom' of business books written by authors who’ve never run a business. I’ve read some of Collins’s work over the years and I'm pretty certain the comments are aimed directly at Good To Great, a book I received as a gift for my college graduation.
3. Sports, again…
The peacetime/wartime distinction brings to mind yet another sports comparison. Some teams are simply better at winning close games than others. I think a coach or a captain with a ‘wartime’ mentality leads these teams. In a close game, they quickly discard the notion of playing with creativity, flourish, or flair. They simply focus themselves and their teams on the singular task of winning the game and demand full commitment to the task from those around them.
Thursday, April 12, 2018
a not quite example of applied math
Fibonacci was a mathematician familiar, I’m sure, to at least a couple of you readers. He is best known for adding up a few numbers together to create his ‘Fibonacci Sequence’ which, for those unfamiliar with major accomplishments in mathematics, works by adding the two most recent numbers of the seuquence together to produce the next number in the sequence. Then, repeat.
Pointless, right? Brilliant, right?
It starts at 1 and goes from there:
0+1 = 1
1+1 = 2
1+2 = 3
2+3 = 5
...and on and on…
You know, the more I think about it, this strikes me as a truly ridiculous thing to be known for. The standards for fame must have been really low back in the day...
Anyway, that's the sequence.
I’m not sure if there are any obvious applications. The curious reader is free to do a quick Google search and find their own interesting results (1).
From my experience, I tend to notice these ‘applied math’ concepts after the fact. The most recent case came when I studied my post-college living history.
South Boston – 1 year
Central Square – 1 year
South Boston – 2 years
Beacon Hill – 3 years
Starting to look familiar? Unfortunately, I failed to notice the Fibonacci Sequence until after I signed on for year four in my Beacon Hill Studio. So, it looks like I’m no longer applying the great Italian’s elementary arithmetic skills to my own apartment hopping.
I’m left with no choice but to apply a version of a geometric series. In this application, the next number is doubled from the previous.
1 -> 2
2 -> 4
4 -> 8
...and on and on...
The geometric sequence suggests I’m in my last year of my current apartment and will soon move to a place I will live in for the next eight years.
South Boston – 1 year
Central Square – 1 year
South Boston – 2 years
Beacon Hill – 4 years (?)
The next one – 8 years (???)
I felt good about myself for a few minutes before I realized that I hadn't really done anything 'geometric' here since '1' happens twice. You noticed too, reader? Very nice work, 'A+' stuff, I say!
It highlights the general truth which often results in misapplied models: humans are very good at spotting non-existent patterns.
1. A basic list of Fibonacci applications
Ha. Didn't you read this post? 'The curious reader is free to do a quick Google search...'
So stop reading this and get up on Google!
It starts at 1 and goes from there:
0+1 = 1
1+1 = 2
1+2 = 3
2+3 = 5
...and on and on…
Anyway, that's the sequence.
I’m not sure if there are any obvious applications. The curious reader is free to do a quick Google search and find their own interesting results (1).
From my experience, I tend to notice these ‘applied math’ concepts after the fact. The most recent case came when I studied my post-college living history.
South Boston – 1 year
Central Square – 1 year
South Boston – 2 years
Beacon Hill – 3 years
Starting to look familiar? Unfortunately, I failed to notice the Fibonacci Sequence until after I signed on for year four in my Beacon Hill Studio. So, it looks like I’m no longer applying the great Italian’s elementary arithmetic skills to my own apartment hopping.
I’m left with no choice but to apply a version of a geometric series. In this application, the next number is doubled from the previous.
1 -> 2
2 -> 4
4 -> 8
...and on and on...
The geometric sequence suggests I’m in my last year of my current apartment and will soon move to a place I will live in for the next eight years.
South Boston – 1 year
Central Square – 1 year
South Boston – 2 years
Beacon Hill – 4 years (?)
The next one – 8 years (???)
I felt good about myself for a few minutes before I realized that I hadn't really done anything 'geometric' here since '1' happens twice. You noticed too, reader? Very nice work, 'A+' stuff, I say!
It highlights the general truth which often results in misapplied models: humans are very good at spotting non-existent patterns.
General truth: humans are very good at spotting non-existent patterns.Or, perhaps, I should tweak this idea: humans are very good at ignoring certain things, leaving only just enough data to fit neatly into an otherwise non-existent pattern.
Updated general truth: humans are very good at ignoring certain things, leaving only just enough data to fit neatly into an otherwise non-existent pattern.Footnotes / imagined complaints
1. A basic list of Fibonacci applications
Ha. Didn't you read this post? 'The curious reader is free to do a quick Google search...'
So stop reading this and get up on Google!
Wednesday, April 11, 2018
leftovers #3: madness
It's hard to write about 'Madness' without thinking of Muse...
Muse is one of my favorite bands and 'Madness' is the name of the second single from their album The Second Law. It was a major commercial and critical success; the song topped Billboard's Alternative Songs chart and was nominated for a Grammy. Perhaps most importantly, it inspired this incredible piano cover from vkgoeswild, a piano player known for her covers of well-known rock songs on her Youtube channel.
'Madness' was the first time I ever wondered what artists did once they produced their best work (1). Like, after the band finished recording 'Madness', what did they say? Let's do a cover of a Chvrches song? Or maybe Prince? Come on, right?
Everyone reaches the pinnacle of their lives someday. Fortunately, this is a good thing (or at least I suspect so, given my belief that the most difficult part of decline is knowing it's happening). Those in hyper-competitive fields where performance is measured in relative rather than absolute terms - like rock music - do not often get the benefit of this ignorance. When these artists reach their pinnacle, the decline is obvious to all.
I wonder if Akutagawa was dealing with this feeling when he wrote his short story 'Spinning Gears'. Did he wonder if the summit was behind him as he detailed his protagonist's sensational descent into mental illness?
Footnotes / into a supermassive black hole we go...
1. Technically, this line could invalidate the post...
But I'm not going to defend my choice of 'Madness' - I'm just here to talk about the concept. If I needed to, I could rewrite the post with a different example.
I'll make my stance clear: I think 'Madness' is Muse's best song but I do not think it is their best Muse song. Frankly, 'Madness' just doesn't sound like something Muse would come up with - it's more pebble than rock, if you will, reader. (Were I forced to choose a best 'Muse song' to fit into this idea, I would go with 'Stockholm Syndrome'.)
I expect the bigger the Muse fan, the more likely he or she is to disagree with my stance on 'Madness'. That's OK - I understand completely. I kind of disagree with myself on this point at times, in fact. People who tend to identify 'Madness' as their favorite Muse song are usually choosing between it and 'Starlight', the only two Muse songs they actually know, and I would never use the words 'best' and 'Starlight' in the same sentence.
If you are entering a conversation about Muse and have no idea about (or interest in) the band, just say you like 'Knights Of Cydonia' - but only the live version with the harmonica intro! This will give you enough credibility to survive any ensuing blunders.
For the record, my favorite Muse song is 'Plug In Baby' or 'Supermassive Black Hole'. It just depends on my mood that day, I suppose.
Muse is one of my favorite bands and 'Madness' is the name of the second single from their album The Second Law. It was a major commercial and critical success; the song topped Billboard's Alternative Songs chart and was nominated for a Grammy. Perhaps most importantly, it inspired this incredible piano cover from vkgoeswild, a piano player known for her covers of well-known rock songs on her Youtube channel.
'Madness' was the first time I ever wondered what artists did once they produced their best work (1). Like, after the band finished recording 'Madness', what did they say? Let's do a cover of a Chvrches song? Or maybe Prince? Come on, right?
Everyone reaches the pinnacle of their lives someday. Fortunately, this is a good thing (or at least I suspect so, given my belief that the most difficult part of decline is knowing it's happening). Those in hyper-competitive fields where performance is measured in relative rather than absolute terms - like rock music - do not often get the benefit of this ignorance. When these artists reach their pinnacle, the decline is obvious to all.
I wonder if Akutagawa was dealing with this feeling when he wrote his short story 'Spinning Gears'. Did he wonder if the summit was behind him as he detailed his protagonist's sensational descent into mental illness?
Footnotes / into a supermassive black hole we go...
1. Technically, this line could invalidate the post...
But I'm not going to defend my choice of 'Madness' - I'm just here to talk about the concept. If I needed to, I could rewrite the post with a different example.
I'll make my stance clear: I think 'Madness' is Muse's best song but I do not think it is their best Muse song. Frankly, 'Madness' just doesn't sound like something Muse would come up with - it's more pebble than rock, if you will, reader. (Were I forced to choose a best 'Muse song' to fit into this idea, I would go with 'Stockholm Syndrome'.)
I expect the bigger the Muse fan, the more likely he or she is to disagree with my stance on 'Madness'. That's OK - I understand completely. I kind of disagree with myself on this point at times, in fact. People who tend to identify 'Madness' as their favorite Muse song are usually choosing between it and 'Starlight', the only two Muse songs they actually know, and I would never use the words 'best' and 'Starlight' in the same sentence.
If you are entering a conversation about Muse and have no idea about (or interest in) the band, just say you like 'Knights Of Cydonia' - but only the live version with the harmonica intro! This will give you enough credibility to survive any ensuing blunders.
For the record, my favorite Muse song is 'Plug In Baby' or 'Supermassive Black Hole'. It just depends on my mood that day, I suppose.
Tuesday, April 10, 2018
my favorite analogy from 2017
In my review of Bruce Arians's Quarterback Whisperer, I pointed out an explanation he gave about why incoming head coaches will fire all the remaining assistant coaches instead of retaining some to form part of his future staff. Though I understood what the coach was getting at with his comment, I mentioned that it was more a description rather than an explanation.
I clarified this description-explanation distinction by citing an analogy Gary Taubes made in the book The Case Against Sugar. Taubes’s basic comparison was this: suggesting people gain weight because they take in more calories than they expend is like saying a room becomes increasingly crowded because more people enter than exit. He used this analogy to support his conclusion that the calories-in/calories-out model for weight gain was an insufficient explanation for why people gain weight.
My mind jumped to this analogy because it has been on my mind since I finished Taubes’s book. It highlighted a strange problem I’ve been thinking about recently: the tendency for description to replace explanation.
It happens sometimes, for example, when the train is delayed. Waiting (and cold) passengers are informed that because of the snow, the train will be late. But the train isn’t always late when it snows! Surely, something else is causing the delay (and who knows, reader, we might even get to find out about it someday).
There is a special kind of frustration that emerges from someone who gets a description in place of an explanation. Often, this feeling is exacerbated when it becomes clear that the person delivering the explanation is blissfully unaware that he or she is actually only giving a description. (1)
I’m not sure why this frustration happens (2). One possibility is that the difference in knowledge required for explaining rather than describing is significant. A person able to describe a situation might not be able to explain it. On the other hand, a person able to explain a situation is surely capable of describing it. The difference is in understanding. People who only describe without explaining begin to create the sense that their underlying understanding of a situation is actually very limited.
Perhaps a less likely but more interesting hypothesis is that description without explanation quickly becomes small talk. I suspect what certain people mean when they express frustration with casual chatter about the weather isn’t because these conversations are filled with insights about the science of a low-pressure system; the frustration is in having to spend thirty seconds having someone else read the thermometer aloud to you. The fact that people tell you what you already see and teach you what you already know – this is what we all hate about small talk, right? I suppose in the land of the blind, only the king can describe; to tolerate any other speaker would require an explanation.
Footnotes / imagined complaints
1. Do as I say, not as I do…
I initially felt no need to explain why I thought this happened. But then I realized ending the post here might cause me to do the very thing described in the post!
2. It probably isn't this reason...
One possibility I considered is the role this phenomenon plays in the manifestation of stereotyping (or even discrimination). When one person pigeonholes another based on characteristics unrelated to character, the lack of effort or interest in getting to know and understand the other becomes plainly evident. The instances where a description is provided as an explanation perhaps brings a vestige of these feelings back in the recipient.
I clarified this description-explanation distinction by citing an analogy Gary Taubes made in the book The Case Against Sugar. Taubes’s basic comparison was this: suggesting people gain weight because they take in more calories than they expend is like saying a room becomes increasingly crowded because more people enter than exit. He used this analogy to support his conclusion that the calories-in/calories-out model for weight gain was an insufficient explanation for why people gain weight.
My mind jumped to this analogy because it has been on my mind since I finished Taubes’s book. It highlighted a strange problem I’ve been thinking about recently: the tendency for description to replace explanation.
It happens sometimes, for example, when the train is delayed. Waiting (and cold) passengers are informed that because of the snow, the train will be late. But the train isn’t always late when it snows! Surely, something else is causing the delay (and who knows, reader, we might even get to find out about it someday).
There is a special kind of frustration that emerges from someone who gets a description in place of an explanation. Often, this feeling is exacerbated when it becomes clear that the person delivering the explanation is blissfully unaware that he or she is actually only giving a description. (1)
I’m not sure why this frustration happens (2). One possibility is that the difference in knowledge required for explaining rather than describing is significant. A person able to describe a situation might not be able to explain it. On the other hand, a person able to explain a situation is surely capable of describing it. The difference is in understanding. People who only describe without explaining begin to create the sense that their underlying understanding of a situation is actually very limited.
Perhaps a less likely but more interesting hypothesis is that description without explanation quickly becomes small talk. I suspect what certain people mean when they express frustration with casual chatter about the weather isn’t because these conversations are filled with insights about the science of a low-pressure system; the frustration is in having to spend thirty seconds having someone else read the thermometer aloud to you. The fact that people tell you what you already see and teach you what you already know – this is what we all hate about small talk, right? I suppose in the land of the blind, only the king can describe; to tolerate any other speaker would require an explanation.
Footnotes / imagined complaints
1. Do as I say, not as I do…
I initially felt no need to explain why I thought this happened. But then I realized ending the post here might cause me to do the very thing described in the post!
2. It probably isn't this reason...
One possibility I considered is the role this phenomenon plays in the manifestation of stereotyping (or even discrimination). When one person pigeonholes another based on characteristics unrelated to character, the lack of effort or interest in getting to know and understand the other becomes plainly evident. The instances where a description is provided as an explanation perhaps brings a vestige of these feelings back in the recipient.
Sunday, April 8, 2018
reading review: hard-boiled wonderland and the end of the world
Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami (December 2017)
I included this among my three Murakami selections for my inaugural December rereading month. Of the three I ended up choosing, this one seemed the most unlikely to make the cut as December approached. However, as the angle of the sun started dropping lower in the sky and the weather gradually became colder, I was reminded of how well Murakami portrayed the shadow-world he described in the even-numbered chapters of this book. The book, I realized, had made a significant impact on me. I decided to go back to it once more to see if there was more to it than just the lingering mood that haunted me in those late fall months.
Given all this, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed rereading the book. I knew I would get something out rereading the book - I just wasn’t expecting to like it so much. On the second go-around, though, I found there was much more to the shadow-world than its grim environment. As Hard-Boiled Wonderland takes the reader back and forth across two separate stories, the events of the shadow-world bring a context to the excitement of its counterpart narrative. Together, the subtly intertwined stories reinforce the book’s main themes – the way people tend to lock themselves into prisons of their own making, the importance of joy in confronting inevitable despair, and the balance of knowing when to live in harmony with the past and when to let it go.
One up: This book delivers a lot of little nuggets of wisdom. Some of these little insights resembled the kinds of remarks you would get on a fortune cookie – when someone goes to the trouble of building a wall, there is probably a good reason to get to the other side. Others offered the kind of casual philosophical insights college students tend to come up with in the wee hours of the night – where there is perfection in one place, the weak or powerless is carrying a burden elsewhere.
By far the most interesting was the analogy used in one scene to describe a concept invented solely for the plot of the story. To summarize quickly, the discussion was about how if data is represented by fractions, it becomes possible to store an infinite amount of data in a very small numerical area because the space between two fractions can be divided infinitely and, therefore, expanded without limit.
This felt almost like a passable analogy for how computer chips are able to store massive amounts of information on physically tiny pieces of equipment. If the data is represented by a number line from zero to one, the question of expanding storage capacity isn’t a matter of extending the number line but rather one of expanding the decimal places available within the existing number line.
One down: Not all of these nuggets were cheerful. One particularly bright section talked about how joy or love is an impossibility in a life lacking in sorrow or despair. Another explained how individuals lose their minds, piece by piece, each time they do something in accordance with how a larger unit – an organization, a town, or even a partner – demands something be done.
The one I thought about long after I finished reading was the definition of a poor town as a place where everyone must work. I’d always thought America’s strangest 'achievement' was reversing the historical truth about food – whereas the poor used to starve, America made it possible for them to become obese instead. But after considering this quip, perhaps there is an even stranger achievement to consider – whereas the poor used to work while the rich sat idle, these days it is those without work who are poor while the rich are the ones seeming to spend record amounts of time in the office.
Just saying: Longtime readers may recall how much I enjoyed Daily Rituals, a book that examined the creative routines of various artists. I cannot recall if Murakami was featured in the book but I’m a little more interested to see after a specific passage from Hard-Boiled Wonderland.
In this scene, the main character describes the strict schedule he uses to complete an unusually complicated mental task – one hour of work is followed by thirty minutes of rest. I had to wonder if this was based on the author’s own work pattern. It rang true to me as an effective way to work because it loosely matched up with my own work experience (fifty minutes at the desk, ten minutes away) (1).
Footnotes / the magic of the information super-highway
1. Twenty years ago, I would have just had to reread Daily Rituals…
I checked the Brain Pickings website and found that, indeed, Murakami was featured in the book. I did not get a good sense of his exact pattern, however, managing to only dig up this quote from the article linked to above:
What I do know is that there is obviously an optimal schedule for any kind of work. For me, writing is something that comes best early in the day (editor’s note: this is being written at 7:05pm). I’m not sure if this is a reality of my writing style or if this is a consequence of optimizing the rest of my schedule. I do know I find it easy to go for a run in the early evening so I have no need for a morning workout. In the old days, I always found it easier to take care of big work projects early on in the day yet never had a problem taking care of little administrative tasks towards the end of the even the most draining work day.
I included this among my three Murakami selections for my inaugural December rereading month. Of the three I ended up choosing, this one seemed the most unlikely to make the cut as December approached. However, as the angle of the sun started dropping lower in the sky and the weather gradually became colder, I was reminded of how well Murakami portrayed the shadow-world he described in the even-numbered chapters of this book. The book, I realized, had made a significant impact on me. I decided to go back to it once more to see if there was more to it than just the lingering mood that haunted me in those late fall months.
Given all this, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed rereading the book. I knew I would get something out rereading the book - I just wasn’t expecting to like it so much. On the second go-around, though, I found there was much more to the shadow-world than its grim environment. As Hard-Boiled Wonderland takes the reader back and forth across two separate stories, the events of the shadow-world bring a context to the excitement of its counterpart narrative. Together, the subtly intertwined stories reinforce the book’s main themes – the way people tend to lock themselves into prisons of their own making, the importance of joy in confronting inevitable despair, and the balance of knowing when to live in harmony with the past and when to let it go.
One up: This book delivers a lot of little nuggets of wisdom. Some of these little insights resembled the kinds of remarks you would get on a fortune cookie – when someone goes to the trouble of building a wall, there is probably a good reason to get to the other side. Others offered the kind of casual philosophical insights college students tend to come up with in the wee hours of the night – where there is perfection in one place, the weak or powerless is carrying a burden elsewhere.
By far the most interesting was the analogy used in one scene to describe a concept invented solely for the plot of the story. To summarize quickly, the discussion was about how if data is represented by fractions, it becomes possible to store an infinite amount of data in a very small numerical area because the space between two fractions can be divided infinitely and, therefore, expanded without limit.
This felt almost like a passable analogy for how computer chips are able to store massive amounts of information on physically tiny pieces of equipment. If the data is represented by a number line from zero to one, the question of expanding storage capacity isn’t a matter of extending the number line but rather one of expanding the decimal places available within the existing number line.
One down: Not all of these nuggets were cheerful. One particularly bright section talked about how joy or love is an impossibility in a life lacking in sorrow or despair. Another explained how individuals lose their minds, piece by piece, each time they do something in accordance with how a larger unit – an organization, a town, or even a partner – demands something be done.
The one I thought about long after I finished reading was the definition of a poor town as a place where everyone must work. I’d always thought America’s strangest 'achievement' was reversing the historical truth about food – whereas the poor used to starve, America made it possible for them to become obese instead. But after considering this quip, perhaps there is an even stranger achievement to consider – whereas the poor used to work while the rich sat idle, these days it is those without work who are poor while the rich are the ones seeming to spend record amounts of time in the office.
Just saying: Longtime readers may recall how much I enjoyed Daily Rituals, a book that examined the creative routines of various artists. I cannot recall if Murakami was featured in the book but I’m a little more interested to see after a specific passage from Hard-Boiled Wonderland.
In this scene, the main character describes the strict schedule he uses to complete an unusually complicated mental task – one hour of work is followed by thirty minutes of rest. I had to wonder if this was based on the author’s own work pattern. It rang true to me as an effective way to work because it loosely matched up with my own work experience (fifty minutes at the desk, ten minutes away) (1).
Footnotes / the magic of the information super-highway
1. Twenty years ago, I would have just had to reread Daily Rituals…
I checked the Brain Pickings website and found that, indeed, Murakami was featured in the book. I did not get a good sense of his exact pattern, however, managing to only dig up this quote from the article linked to above:
When I’m in writing mode for a novel, I get up at 4:00 am and work for five to six hours. In the afternoon, I run for 10km or swim for 1500m (or do both), then I read a bit and listen to some music. I go to bed at 9:00 pm. I keep to this routine every day without variation. The repetition itself becomes the important thing; it’s a form of mesmerism. I mesmerize myself to reach a deeper state of mind.Maybe I'll just have to read Daily Rituals again.
What I do know is that there is obviously an optimal schedule for any kind of work. For me, writing is something that comes best early in the day (editor’s note: this is being written at 7:05pm). I’m not sure if this is a reality of my writing style or if this is a consequence of optimizing the rest of my schedule. I do know I find it easy to go for a run in the early evening so I have no need for a morning workout. In the old days, I always found it easier to take care of big work projects early on in the day yet never had a problem taking care of little administrative tasks towards the end of the even the most draining work day.
Saturday, April 7, 2018
life changing books: small is beautiful
Just a quick note before we start today, reader - this is a book I read after I started this blog and thus I've already written about it once before. Here is the link to the official 'reading review' from around this time last year for those interested.
Thanks for reading,
Tim
******************
Today's post is about a single idea I found particularly powerful when I first read Small Is Beautiful at the end of 2014. This idea was about 'intermediate technologies'. In short, these refer to any tools, ideas, or techniques that must be introduced to bring a person, community, or country from today's state to a more technologically advanced future.
One way I immediately applied this thinking was to the way I started eating vegetables. When I arrived in college, it is fair to state that I had never voluntarily chosen to eat a vegetable. Now, I hadn't actively chosen against it, either - up until then, I never made any decisions about food. If vegetables were served, I would eat them. If not, I ate whatever else was served.
In college, I finally 'opted in' to vegetables. I started by making salads at the buffet-style main dining hall. Like anyone else, I used dressing to make the food more tolerable. Over time, I became accustomed to eating vegetables through these salads.
After college, I made a subtle transition. I read about how salad dressings tend to concentrate calories to an extent that might neutralize the health benefits of the vegetables. Salsa was a better option given its lower caloric density. Since I liked salsa more than dressing anyway, this proved to be an easy switch.
I experimented a little bit over the next few years with other dressing substitutes. Hummus was a good one, ketchup was not. Sliced or crumbled cheese combined with nuts was a good substitute, as well (but did introduce their own set of health questions).
One day, I realized that I didn't want to put anything on the vegetables. I just ate them as they were - raw, steamed, baked, or sir-fried, depending on the exact item. My taste buds did not need the added taste anymore to tolerate the vegetables.
I think this is the best example I have to-date of the 'intermediate technology' in action. My original nutrition state (no vegetables) transitioned to an ideal one (just vegetables). To get there did not require a major boost in willpower - I just lathered on the extra sauces and dips I liked while I waited patiently for my taste buds to grow up.
The way Small Is Beautiful describes intermediate technologies is from the development economics perspective. The main idea is that the future does not arrive tomorrow. Rather, small steps must be taken at the right time to bring people up to speed without losing anyone along the way. These steps - such as transitional job skills programs or anti-corruption measures - are the intermediate steps required to get from today to tomorrow. They don't solve problems on their own and they won't stick around once everyone agrees the problems have been resolved. Rather, they are the ferries that get us from one side of the water to the other.
Footnotes / a brief burst of nostalgia...
0. I could easily still be on the cal-zone diet...
I think if I had tried to change my eating patterns in one fell swoop, I inevitably would have reverted to comfortable and established pre-college eating patterns. Forcing me to eat vegetables when I wasn't already doing so would have been a doomed errand. But for whatever reason, I managed to shepherd myself along and made the right adjustments along the way. Eventually, I reached the original goal without even realizing I had arrived - it was like waking up in the backseat as the car turned into the driveway at the end of a long road trip.
Thanks for reading,
Tim
******************
Today's post is about a single idea I found particularly powerful when I first read Small Is Beautiful at the end of 2014. This idea was about 'intermediate technologies'. In short, these refer to any tools, ideas, or techniques that must be introduced to bring a person, community, or country from today's state to a more technologically advanced future.
One way I immediately applied this thinking was to the way I started eating vegetables. When I arrived in college, it is fair to state that I had never voluntarily chosen to eat a vegetable. Now, I hadn't actively chosen against it, either - up until then, I never made any decisions about food. If vegetables were served, I would eat them. If not, I ate whatever else was served.
In college, I finally 'opted in' to vegetables. I started by making salads at the buffet-style main dining hall. Like anyone else, I used dressing to make the food more tolerable. Over time, I became accustomed to eating vegetables through these salads.
After college, I made a subtle transition. I read about how salad dressings tend to concentrate calories to an extent that might neutralize the health benefits of the vegetables. Salsa was a better option given its lower caloric density. Since I liked salsa more than dressing anyway, this proved to be an easy switch.
I experimented a little bit over the next few years with other dressing substitutes. Hummus was a good one, ketchup was not. Sliced or crumbled cheese combined with nuts was a good substitute, as well (but did introduce their own set of health questions).
One day, I realized that I didn't want to put anything on the vegetables. I just ate them as they were - raw, steamed, baked, or sir-fried, depending on the exact item. My taste buds did not need the added taste anymore to tolerate the vegetables.
I think this is the best example I have to-date of the 'intermediate technology' in action. My original nutrition state (no vegetables) transitioned to an ideal one (just vegetables). To get there did not require a major boost in willpower - I just lathered on the extra sauces and dips I liked while I waited patiently for my taste buds to grow up.
The way Small Is Beautiful describes intermediate technologies is from the development economics perspective. The main idea is that the future does not arrive tomorrow. Rather, small steps must be taken at the right time to bring people up to speed without losing anyone along the way. These steps - such as transitional job skills programs or anti-corruption measures - are the intermediate steps required to get from today to tomorrow. They don't solve problems on their own and they won't stick around once everyone agrees the problems have been resolved. Rather, they are the ferries that get us from one side of the water to the other.
Footnotes / a brief burst of nostalgia...
0. I could easily still be on the cal-zone diet...
I think if I had tried to change my eating patterns in one fell swoop, I inevitably would have reverted to comfortable and established pre-college eating patterns. Forcing me to eat vegetables when I wasn't already doing so would have been a doomed errand. But for whatever reason, I managed to shepherd myself along and made the right adjustments along the way. Eventually, I reached the original goal without even realizing I had arrived - it was like waking up in the backseat as the car turned into the driveway at the end of a long road trip.
Thursday, April 5, 2018
introducing: the fortune cookie power ratings
I've always been more entertained by fortune cookies than logic would dictate. Why? Not sure, exactly, and I don't really care, but I thought up some possible reasons just for you, bored reader.
1. I've always liked clever quotes.
This does not always apply to fortune cookies but I think the hit rate has been high enough historically for me not to care too much.
2. I've always liked finding hidden things.
Again, I know where the fortune is (editor's note: inside the cookie) but sometimes my brain stops working after eating seventeen Peking raviolis in one sitting, making it seem like I discovered it. (Of course, I'm not sure why I remember to break the cookie open first if I do indeed suffer temporary amnesia in these moments but...well...these mysteries make life more fun, do they not, forgetful reader?)
3. I've always enjoyed reminders of home.
I learned recently that these originated in 19th century Kyoto-
(3a...'home' being used loosely here...)
-and this Kyoto thing was an unexpected revelation but, upon reflection, makes sense because something as ridiculous as a fortune cookie could only originate in Japan.
But as much as I delight in the clever witticisms or optimistic predictions printed on these little slips of paper, I must acknowledge an important fact: most fortunes suck.
Here's an example:
'Good health will be yours for a long time.'
What the hell? I just ate a bucket of fried cream cheese and sucked down a carton of grease seasoned with noodles and beef. Good health, my foot - I'm lucky I've lived long enough to get to dessert!
The lack of self-awareness oozing out of the above 'fortune' made me want to Take Immediate Action. But of course, I didn't actually do anything, perhaps due to thefood coma aforementioned amnesia coming in again sudden onset of type 1 and type 2 diabetes at the same time heart attack general sluggishness brought on by the recent meal.
For now, I've settled on the least physically challenging response possible: every once in a while, I'll come on here and give a quick breakdown of a recent fortune. Not very frequently, mind - contrary to what this post implies, I don't eat Chinese food all too often - but I need something to replace the 'Hello Ladies' updates around these parts and this seems like it will do nicely for a few posts per year.
How will it work? I think I'll dust off an old trick here - for each fortune, I'll try to decide if it is True, False, or Racist. Now, maybe this format seems petulant on the surface. But it's hard to read some of these - even if I do enjoy them in the aggregate - without being reminded of the 'Confucius Say' undercurrent in many of these messages. I mean, have a look at this example (1).
So, keep an eye out for these breakdowns in the future. And in the meantime, heed the lesson from a favorite fortune I've kept tucked into my wallet over the past few years:
'Happiness is often a rebound from hard work.'
Footnotes / oh come on, not everything is racist...
1. But sir, don't you think this is just a typo?
I do, actually. So to extend this example a little further out to the True-False-Racist concept, I would conclude this fortune was...FALSE!
That's the point of the game - not everything I run through the TFR algorithm comes out as racist, folks.
But seriously, folks, as it regards 'Confucius Say', I'm not going to sit here and laugh it off. It is immaterial to me that some untalented comedians back in the day fooled the white world into believing making fun of pidgin English was the highest form of humor and I don't see much need to carry on the tradition any further.
1. I've always liked clever quotes.
This does not always apply to fortune cookies but I think the hit rate has been high enough historically for me not to care too much.
2. I've always liked finding hidden things.
Again, I know where the fortune is (editor's note: inside the cookie) but sometimes my brain stops working after eating seventeen Peking raviolis in one sitting, making it seem like I discovered it. (Of course, I'm not sure why I remember to break the cookie open first if I do indeed suffer temporary amnesia in these moments but...well...these mysteries make life more fun, do they not, forgetful reader?)
3. I've always enjoyed reminders of home.
I learned recently that these originated in 19th century Kyoto-
(3a...'home' being used loosely here...)
-and this Kyoto thing was an unexpected revelation but, upon reflection, makes sense because something as ridiculous as a fortune cookie could only originate in Japan.
But as much as I delight in the clever witticisms or optimistic predictions printed on these little slips of paper, I must acknowledge an important fact: most fortunes suck.
Here's an example:
'Good health will be yours for a long time.'
What the hell? I just ate a bucket of fried cream cheese and sucked down a carton of grease seasoned with noodles and beef. Good health, my foot - I'm lucky I've lived long enough to get to dessert!
The lack of self-awareness oozing out of the above 'fortune' made me want to Take Immediate Action. But of course, I didn't actually do anything, perhaps due to the
For now, I've settled on the least physically challenging response possible: every once in a while, I'll come on here and give a quick breakdown of a recent fortune. Not very frequently, mind - contrary to what this post implies, I don't eat Chinese food all too often - but I need something to replace the 'Hello Ladies' updates around these parts and this seems like it will do nicely for a few posts per year.
How will it work? I think I'll dust off an old trick here - for each fortune, I'll try to decide if it is True, False, or Racist. Now, maybe this format seems petulant on the surface. But it's hard to read some of these - even if I do enjoy them in the aggregate - without being reminded of the 'Confucius Say' undercurrent in many of these messages. I mean, have a look at this example (1).
So, keep an eye out for these breakdowns in the future. And in the meantime, heed the lesson from a favorite fortune I've kept tucked into my wallet over the past few years:
'Happiness is often a rebound from hard work.'
Footnotes / oh come on, not everything is racist...
1. But sir, don't you think this is just a typo?
I do, actually. So to extend this example a little further out to the True-False-Racist concept, I would conclude this fortune was...FALSE!
That's the point of the game - not everything I run through the TFR algorithm comes out as racist, folks.
But seriously, folks, as it regards 'Confucius Say', I'm not going to sit here and laugh it off. It is immaterial to me that some untalented comedians back in the day fooled the white world into believing making fun of pidgin English was the highest form of humor and I don't see much need to carry on the tradition any further.
Wednesday, April 4, 2018
leftovers: i gotta pokemon go...
Like with 'Madness', this was another post that took over a year to complete. The problem with my first draft was a lack of clarity in my main idea. As a result, I could not find a way to conclude the post.
I sat on it for months. One day, I returned to the idea of how I used to write whenever I felt comfortable in a new environment. So, I went back to this draft and removed the parts I thought would work for the new idea. What I was left with was a criticism of smartphones with an unusual take on Pokemon Go. It was like pouring ketchup onto a slice of pizza - the concept was right but details made no sense. The draft remained incomplete.
When the swans returned to the Public Garden last April, I started considering ways to resurrect this draft. I thought about editing it down into a 'Moya rant' on smartphones. I considered expanding it to talk more about my favorite video games. I thought about printing the draft out so I could dramatically rip it up in front of those stupid swans. I shelved it again.
Eventually, I started working on a post about Michael Lewis's Undoing Project. A line from my notes jumped out at me - how we do something reveals more about us than what we do. That line sent this post in a different direction. Would exploring how I played Pokemon say something about me that the fact of playing it failed to reflect? I suspected it would and the rest, as they say, wasa really long blog post that nobody asked for history.
The smartphone rant would have to wait.
I sat on it for months. One day, I returned to the idea of how I used to write whenever I felt comfortable in a new environment. So, I went back to this draft and removed the parts I thought would work for the new idea. What I was left with was a criticism of smartphones with an unusual take on Pokemon Go. It was like pouring ketchup onto a slice of pizza - the concept was right but details made no sense. The draft remained incomplete.
When the swans returned to the Public Garden last April, I started considering ways to resurrect this draft. I thought about editing it down into a 'Moya rant' on smartphones. I considered expanding it to talk more about my favorite video games. I thought about printing the draft out so I could dramatically rip it up in front of those stupid swans. I shelved it again.
Eventually, I started working on a post about Michael Lewis's Undoing Project. A line from my notes jumped out at me - how we do something reveals more about us than what we do. That line sent this post in a different direction. Would exploring how I played Pokemon say something about me that the fact of playing it failed to reflect? I suspected it would and the rest, as they say, was
The smartphone rant would have to wait.
Tuesday, April 3, 2018
a boor at the beach
A group gathered one afternoon at a popular beach. Included in the group was a boor who brought along his transistor radio. On the radio came the familiar opening to Coolio's "Gangsta's Paradise", a song many in the group inexplicably considered among their favorites.
As the song ended, the boor posed a challenge. His loud voice drowned out the opening notes from the next song:
Who could share the best story about this song?
Before anyone could answer his question, he began:
As no further submissions had been made to the contest, the boor declared himself winner by default.
As the song ended, the boor posed a challenge. His loud voice drowned out the opening notes from the next song:
Who could share the best story about this song?
Before anyone could answer his question, he began:
One day, I was alone in a small room of a famous art museum. All was quiet. A man entered through the door to my right and stopped at the first painting. My path took me towards him. Though he made no sound, I could hear a new noise, faint in the air but growing louder.
As I approached, he looked at me with annoyance.
-Could you turn off your phone?
I sneered at him before I replied:
-That's not me, man.
He squinted, his face wrinkled with disgust, his posture defiant. Then, a sudden look of recognition replaced his clueless expression. He reached into his pockets and switched off his device. As he did so, I just caught the chorus "Gangsta's Paradise" before he shut off his iPod!"The boor cackled loudly at the end of his own story. The game was abandoned soon thereafter.
As no further submissions had been made to the contest, the boor declared himself winner by default.
Sunday, April 1, 2018
the toa newsletter - april 2018
Hello reader!
It’s the April newsletter…which means it must be April 1st…which means it is April Fools Day! I’m here to assure you right at the top, reader, that there will be NO JOKES in today’s post (or at least, NO JOKES simply because April Fools Day, for there will be jokes, reader, but the jokes would be the same jokes were it March or May or even September 1st).
I know making such a declaration puts you on high alert, sensitive reader, of possible jokes, but that’s a risk I’m willing to deal with here. Let’s agree that all jokes today will be on me, reader, so have no fear...and put your money away, silly reader…
Why no jokes? Why not get in the holiday spirit? Well, as I’m sure longtime readers will understand, this entire blog is basically an April Fools Joke. No need to always cover repeat ground, you know?
Thanks for reading.
Tim
A quick thought from The Business Bro…
Many readers will be aware of my recent decision to come out of retirement (early retirement? Retirement v1? The First Retirement?). It’s been about a month or so since I’ve started so I put together a quick update for my loyal readers.
One of my concerns going into the new job was that obedience, uniformity, and a willingness to accept the occasional organizational fiction would be the most highly valued assets in my new (large) company. I’ve never been the land of the free or the home of the brave in terms of those qualities – as a longtime friend put it when I described this concern, obedience is ‘not one of your strong suits’ (I didn’t bother asking him about the other two ‘assets’) – so I went into my first week with a little trepidation.
After a month or so, the returns have been mixed. My job is consistently the best case scenario for a negative outcome. Framing this thought in the context of those above ‘assets’:
One thing I almost forgot about my old job – which I liked a great deal – was that almost everything I liked about it resulted from programs, process, or standards that I put together. The challenges I’ve encountered so far in my new role are all problems I’ve solved in the past as a ‘player’ or ‘coach’. The sooner I figure out how to apply the lessons from those days to my new role, the sooner I’ll be able to come here and cite specific lessons for my standard ‘BB’ posts.
Breaking news: other items intended for this newsletter ran long…
I tried to quickly summarize how my new role with ******* (editor’s note: trust me…) has impacted my various routines. Shockingly, it all ran long. I’ll post those extended thoughts in a group of posts sometime soon.
For now, here are some main ideas pulled from those longer thoughts:
i) I’ll soon be waking at 5 AM each morning
Tactically, I’m doing this by waking up fifteen minutes earlier each week. I woke up at 6 AM on Day One (February 19) and, once I account for the lost hour from Daylight Savings, should be on track for my first 5 AM wake up on Patriot’s Day.
ii) What starts well ends well…
My plan is to use those first three hours of each day to write. I think this is one of my better ideas in a long time. I’ve noticed that when I write in the morning I’m almost impossible to bring down. No matter how bad the rest of the day goes, I always know that I got some writing done already – and any day when I get some writing done is a good day.
iii) A paycheck…?
I’ve only noticed a minor change in my spending habits – it seems like I’ll spend around $100 or so per month more than I used to. I also feel more open to one-off spending but have yet to make any actual purchases at the time of writing.
iv) Gut check
Getting back to work has added urgency to some of my minor health issues. To make the point bluntly – you can’t just belch, burp, or fart indiscriminately at work, you know?
I’ve dealt with my digestive concerns by focusing on using my diet to increase the healthy bacteria in my gut. My current plan is to eat a cup of yogurt each morning for breakfast. I also tried to eat one packet of natto (fermented soybeans) every day. Apparently, these foods are a great way to maintain healthy bacteria in the gut.
So far, I must say – I’ve been surprised by how much better I’ve felt since I made these changes to my diet.
April links
The thoughts I referenced above about assets within a large organization come from a throwaway line in this essay by longtime TOA favorite Paul Graham.
I thought this photo essay sent via The Football Ramble newsletter was tremendous – a series of snapshots from (I think) a (the?) Serbian Sunday league. For those unfamiliar with the concept of a ‘Sunday league’ – it’s the equivalent of a recreational adult sports league that typically is played on Sundays.
Finally, I really enjoyed the last few minutes of this More Or Less episode about how rich Jane Austen's Mr. Darcy would be in today's terms.
The TOA Books of the Year – nominees
OK reader – time to start whittling down my field of nominees for the 2018 TOA Book of the Year Award – or, as it is otherwise known, 'The Most Irrelevant Prize in World Literature'.
Eliminated this month…
Foundation by Isaac Asimov
I promise to eliminate more books next month but, for now, we bid adieu to Asimov’s famous intergalactic universe.
Still in contention…
January - First and Last Notebooks by Simone Weil
January - Small Is Beautiful by Ernst F. Schumacher
February - Tenth of December by George Saunders
February - Pachinko by Min Jin Lee
May - Epitaph of a Small Winner by Machado de Assis
June - The Mother of All Questions by Rebecca Solnit
June - The Case Against Sugar by Gary Taubes
June - The Four Agreements by don Miguel Ruiz
July - Essays in Idleness by Yoshida Kenko
August - Animal Farm by George Orwell
August - The Hard Thing About Hard Things by Ben Horowitz
August - Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
September - Impro by Keith Johnstone
October - Fifty Inventions That Shaped the Modern Economy by Tim Harford
November - Broken Vessels by Andre Dubus
November - Threads by Kate Evans
December - Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami
December - M Train by Patti Smith
Just one book out? Lazy.
It’ll be a bloodbath next month, I promise – I’ll cull at least two nominees.
So no jokes…really?
OK – maybe there was just one.
Where?
Up to you to find it…
Whatever…
Hint – I actually made the joke last month.
Did you leave the apartment at all?
I have a job now, man. I even went in during the blizzard! And before you ask, it was no big deal, it was easy, actually, since I’m so close to the ‘T’ that getting to the Red Line takes about thirty seconds. And my office is attached to the ‘T’ so I don’t have to really go outside at all to get from my…wait a minute…let me get back to you on this one.
Anything else?
The last job related thing to update you on is this little blurb I recently added to the footer of the TOA main page:
But…
Does anyone who reads this nonsense really think the views I express here could reflect those of my employer? Or, even more specifically – of any employer?
See you in April…
In the next month of…True On Average…
1. The Beatles!
2. We learn what my favorite analogy of 2017 was.
3. My employer claims credit for my views on fortune cookies.
It’s the April newsletter…which means it must be April 1st…which means it is April Fools Day! I’m here to assure you right at the top, reader, that there will be NO JOKES in today’s post (or at least, NO JOKES simply because April Fools Day, for there will be jokes, reader, but the jokes would be the same jokes were it March or May or even September 1st).
I know making such a declaration puts you on high alert, sensitive reader, of possible jokes, but that’s a risk I’m willing to deal with here. Let’s agree that all jokes today will be on me, reader, so have no fear...and put your money away, silly reader…
Why no jokes? Why not get in the holiday spirit? Well, as I’m sure longtime readers will understand, this entire blog is basically an April Fools Joke. No need to always cover repeat ground, you know?
Thanks for reading.
Tim
A quick thought from The Business Bro…
Many readers will be aware of my recent decision to come out of retirement (early retirement? Retirement v1? The First Retirement?). It’s been about a month or so since I’ve started so I put together a quick update for my loyal readers.
One of my concerns going into the new job was that obedience, uniformity, and a willingness to accept the occasional organizational fiction would be the most highly valued assets in my new (large) company. I’ve never been the land of the free or the home of the brave in terms of those qualities – as a longtime friend put it when I described this concern, obedience is ‘not one of your strong suits’ (I didn’t bother asking him about the other two ‘assets’) – so I went into my first week with a little trepidation.
After a month or so, the returns have been mixed. My job is consistently the best case scenario for a negative outcome. Framing this thought in the context of those above ‘assets’:
1. I understand how outright disobedience would be a bad idea (but no one ever seems to give actual orders)
2. I’ve noticed a strange uniformity of dress among my colleagues (but no one seems to care at all that I’m dressed completely differently from the others)
3. I’ve silently disagreed about the permanence of a number of things my colleagues feel cannot be changed (but have yet to run into anyone with the required ‘BS filter’ to sniff out my true convictions)Overall, I’m very optimistic about my future. To summarize with a trademark analogy - it's been a lot like watching a favorite TV show in standard definition. Or...maybe like having a really nice meal with people who look at their phones the whole time.
One thing I almost forgot about my old job – which I liked a great deal – was that almost everything I liked about it resulted from programs, process, or standards that I put together. The challenges I’ve encountered so far in my new role are all problems I’ve solved in the past as a ‘player’ or ‘coach’. The sooner I figure out how to apply the lessons from those days to my new role, the sooner I’ll be able to come here and cite specific lessons for my standard ‘BB’ posts.
Breaking news: other items intended for this newsletter ran long…
I tried to quickly summarize how my new role with ******* (editor’s note: trust me…) has impacted my various routines. Shockingly, it all ran long. I’ll post those extended thoughts in a group of posts sometime soon.
For now, here are some main ideas pulled from those longer thoughts:
i) I’ll soon be waking at 5 AM each morning
Tactically, I’m doing this by waking up fifteen minutes earlier each week. I woke up at 6 AM on Day One (February 19) and, once I account for the lost hour from Daylight Savings, should be on track for my first 5 AM wake up on Patriot’s Day.
ii) What starts well ends well…
My plan is to use those first three hours of each day to write. I think this is one of my better ideas in a long time. I’ve noticed that when I write in the morning I’m almost impossible to bring down. No matter how bad the rest of the day goes, I always know that I got some writing done already – and any day when I get some writing done is a good day.
iii) A paycheck…?
I’ve only noticed a minor change in my spending habits – it seems like I’ll spend around $100 or so per month more than I used to. I also feel more open to one-off spending but have yet to make any actual purchases at the time of writing.
iv) Gut check
Getting back to work has added urgency to some of my minor health issues. To make the point bluntly – you can’t just belch, burp, or fart indiscriminately at work, you know?
I’ve dealt with my digestive concerns by focusing on using my diet to increase the healthy bacteria in my gut. My current plan is to eat a cup of yogurt each morning for breakfast. I also tried to eat one packet of natto (fermented soybeans) every day. Apparently, these foods are a great way to maintain healthy bacteria in the gut.
So far, I must say – I’ve been surprised by how much better I’ve felt since I made these changes to my diet.
April links
The thoughts I referenced above about assets within a large organization come from a throwaway line in this essay by longtime TOA favorite Paul Graham.
I thought this photo essay sent via The Football Ramble newsletter was tremendous – a series of snapshots from (I think) a (the?) Serbian Sunday league. For those unfamiliar with the concept of a ‘Sunday league’ – it’s the equivalent of a recreational adult sports league that typically is played on Sundays.
Finally, I really enjoyed the last few minutes of this More Or Less episode about how rich Jane Austen's Mr. Darcy would be in today's terms.
The TOA Books of the Year – nominees
OK reader – time to start whittling down my field of nominees for the 2018 TOA Book of the Year Award – or, as it is otherwise known, 'The Most Irrelevant Prize in World Literature'.
Eliminated this month…
Foundation by Isaac Asimov
I promise to eliminate more books next month but, for now, we bid adieu to Asimov’s famous intergalactic universe.
Still in contention…
January - First and Last Notebooks by Simone Weil
January - Small Is Beautiful by Ernst F. Schumacher
February - Tenth of December by George Saunders
February - Pachinko by Min Jin Lee
May - Epitaph of a Small Winner by Machado de Assis
June - The Mother of All Questions by Rebecca Solnit
June - The Case Against Sugar by Gary Taubes
June - The Four Agreements by don Miguel Ruiz
July - Essays in Idleness by Yoshida Kenko
August - Animal Farm by George Orwell
August - The Hard Thing About Hard Things by Ben Horowitz
August - Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
September - Impro by Keith Johnstone
October - Fifty Inventions That Shaped the Modern Economy by Tim Harford
November - Broken Vessels by Andre Dubus
November - Threads by Kate Evans
December - Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami
December - M Train by Patti Smith
Just one book out? Lazy.
It’ll be a bloodbath next month, I promise – I’ll cull at least two nominees.
So no jokes…really?
OK – maybe there was just one.
Where?
Up to you to find it…
Whatever…
Hint – I actually made the joke last month.
Did you leave the apartment at all?
I have a job now, man. I even went in during the blizzard! And before you ask, it was no big deal, it was easy, actually, since I’m so close to the ‘T’ that getting to the Red Line takes about thirty seconds. And my office is attached to the ‘T’ so I don’t have to really go outside at all to get from my…wait a minute…let me get back to you on this one.
Anything else?
The last job related thing to update you on is this little blurb I recently added to the footer of the TOA main page:
‘The views expressed on this website/blog are mine alone and do not necessarily reflect the views of my employer.’Those who are firmly entrenched in the world of email subscription may not have noticed this addition. I put it in place after my company’s orientation program suggested doing so. I think it is a good idea in general to make such a distinction.
But…
Does anyone who reads this nonsense really think the views I express here could reflect those of my employer? Or, even more specifically – of any employer?
See you in April…
In the next month of…True On Average…
1. The Beatles!
2. We learn what my favorite analogy of 2017 was.
3. My employer claims credit for my views on fortune cookies.
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