proper corona admin, vol lvii - contact tracing

A smart man once told me he uses electric toothbrushes because that's what the dentist uses for professional cleanings (1). It's a great bit of simple logic at work, and during the pandemic I've found that applying this style of analysis encourages the right kind of behavior. The best reason to wear a mask was that the hospital system where I work told everyone to wear a mask. When it comes to making a smart decision, it's rarely a bad idea to mimic the experts.

However, mimicry and understanding are two separate questions, and I admit at times it takes me a little longer than I'd like before I fully comprehend the underlying thought process. Social distancing has been a great example. Initially, the six feet apart concept was crystal clear, but as the lockdown progressed I became slightly confused. For example, it didn't seem like any of the grocery stores I went to made a special effort to keep everyone six feet apart, whether it be by removing extra display tables in the middle of a narrow aisle or by closing checkout registers that fell within sneezing range of a neighbor. I also noticed nurses waiting outside a local takeout option who, despite being fully masked and gloved, were chattering away in line within touching distance of each other. Based on what I knew these people and places should know better, unless of course they did, by having access to better information than me.

I soon learned about a public health method called contact tracing, a process where those who were in 'close contact' with a sick person would be notified and, in the specific example of COVID-19, instructed to self-quarantine for two weeks. The guidelines for 'close contact' added a new layer to my thinking - in addition to being within six feet of the infected person, a close contact also needed to spend at least fifteen minutes inside that six foot radius. My initial reaction was a mixture of illumination and outrage - so this is the top secret information that informed my prior observations! I felt like a bit of a sucker to be honest, not just because of the general fact of lockdown, but for all those moments in March when someone momentarily coming within six feet of me left me nauseated.

I wondered, why didn't our officials suggest we remain six feet apart only if the interaction would exceed fifteen minutes? It should be fairly simple to keep track of fifteen minutes and, unlike with six feet, I suspect most of us would naturally err on the side of caution (based on my walks and runs, I don't think most of my fellow Bostonians could measure out six feet, even using two yardsticks). We often casually toss around 'fifteen minutes' to mean a short period of time, but fifteen minutes is a fairly long time. Think of the most annoying pop song you know - I bet you can listen to it four times in fifteen minutes. At first glance, a mandate to stay six feet apart with exceptions for interactions less than fifteen minutes seems manageable to me.

Of course, as noted above I know that sometimes I need a little more time to come around and understand the full story, so I remained patient before making any rash adjustments to my distant behavior. Although the time element in contact tracing guidelines were hard to reconcile with the lack of an equivalent in social distancing recommendations, I tried to think about it from the public health perspective. What I soon realized was that prior to the pandemic, I came within six feet of people all the time, but I rarely had 'close contacts'. Work meetings, commuting on the subway, and the occasional public event were likely sources of close contacts, as were almost all social outings. But this would never be more than a couple of people per day except for the rarest cases, and on average most weeks likely passed without more than ten close contacts. However, it was impossible to answer the question of 'within six feet'. The subway trip alone was enough to break an abacus - I could easily come within six feet of at least a hundred people in ten minutes. These could be for just a moment, certainly, but six feet is six feet.

I think this was when it made sense to me. I feel contact tracing is a little overblown, but part of the issue is that it's a highly specialized option within a relatively spare toolbox. It's certain to be overused because as one of few available tools it will be applied to any problem even vaguely resembling an infectious disease outbreak. However, I recognize my opinion on contact tracing is almost as relevant as my opinion on Ricky Rubio's shooting ability - I come up Mount Stupid so fast I get the bends, but God help me as I stumble back down. When I say "I don't think contact tracing works..." it means two weeks later I'll say "...because others have failed to use it correctly, or misapplied the method to communities where everyone has hundred of close contacts."

In this case, what I realized during my proverbial two weeks is that contact tracing won't work in two situations, both of which fit the example of an infected person saying "well, I was on the Green Line between Arlington and Brookline Village during rush hour." The first issue is that you might spend fifteen minutes next to some stranger you'll never be able to identify and therefore cannot reach via contact tracing. This isn't good, but if it's just one person you can cross your fingers. The second issue is less obvious and might require some adjustment in terms of the exact numbers, but it's probably more concerning from the public health perspective - fleeting interactions add up but are impossible to break back down. Think of it this way, if an infected person coughs or sneezes, someone within six feet might get sick, and in terms of the virus it really doesn't matter if you know that unlucky person. In other words, whether it's a revolving door of many commuting strangers or just one close friend, the risk of transmitting the virus to 'a person' is related only to whether another person is within range. The challenge of this close contact being a 'composite person' is of course the same as stated earlier - how do you contact all of those people to say "hey, there is a 1/x chance you are sick"? You can't, and even if you did get them most of them, it would take so long that anyone infected likely would have passed the virus to someone else.

The first step to using contact tracing is to ensure infected people can reliably identify close contacts, and in the case of this pandemic that meant getting people to stop doing things like riding the Green Line that would strip contact tracing of its power. Since the start of my 'stay home' mode, I have had exactly zero 'close contacts' per the above definition, though maybe a couple of close calls would make the cut if we must be overly cautious (as we should be). But the other part is that I haven't had any 'composite close contacts', a fifteen minute period where I've been within at least one other person. For me, staying home has been enough to cut out the risk, and if I were to become infected in this current moment I could describe my close calls and help public health officials make an informed decision without complicating matters with my admission that I rode the subway the prior night. This feels about right. I still sense that social distancing requirements are a bit much in terms of stopping the spread, but that's like complaining that the car isn't moving while filling up the gas tank, or that the electric toothbrush isn't filling the cavity.

Footnotes

1. I just bought a year's supply today - six, in two packs of three

Despite my admiration for the analysis, I don't use an electric toothbrush. Part of the issue is that I stubbornly retain a general tendency to value technique over tools, and feel that with the right brushing technique I get the same results. There is also a slight logical fallacy - the right frame is to ask whether all dentists self-brush with the electric option, since this is the relevant behavior, but as noted in the prior sentence adjusting the question wouldn't change my commitment to the old school toothbrush.

proper corona admin, vol 56

Blaise Pascal famously said - all of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone. I'm not here to dispute his thought but I think if he had lived past 1662, he might have added a little more to his comment. Imagine his reaction to ZOOM, or even to a simple phone call - all of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone, but there is also a slightly smaller issue that we cannot sit quietly with another on ZOOM, or the phone.

I don't think this has much to do with people but with the implicit promise of technology. A phone is for conversation, ZOOM is for a conversation with video. I have plenty of evidence that people are perfectly comfortable in silence with others, using their presence to communicate with meaning beyond words, but this seems impossible when connected through technology. It's a shame that such important advancements strip most of us of this extraordinary power.

Pascal seemed pretty smart, maybe even smarter than me. I'm sure he would have seen this problem with technology, and said something immortal about it - all of technology's problems stem from their insistence that there is no need to ever sit quietly in a room, alone.

pop corona admin, vol 55

Why so serious? Why not? Some more POP thoughts for the weekend, happy Friday y'all.

Gordon Bombay's career record

Oh come on, we knew this was coming. I love the Ducks series, but it's a farce, too. Let's take a closer look today at Bombay's appointment as head coach of Team USA ahead of the Junior Goodwill Games in D2.

But, not too close...

Surely, the best man for the job would have had a good record? Here's Bombay's record:

Regular season
L - Hawks (17-0)
L - Jets (?)
T - Cardinals (2-2)
L - Flames (forfeit!)
W - Huskies (2-1)

Playoffs
W - Hornets (5-3)
W - Cardinals (4-2)
W - Hawks (5-4)

Career record: 4-3-1

Not awful, 4-3-1, and clearly has the hot hand. Maybe he's learning? But on the other hand, barely above .500, and look at those goals allowed totals! Bombay being the best candidate for the national job is the least plausible aspect of a movie franchise that suffers from no shortage of implausibility.

Harry Potter (just one)

Speaking of sports - quidditch? The sport's existence is plausible, but it would have been niche at best, hardly the stuff of major World Cups. At some point, someone (maybe it'll be Dean Thomas) would have just taught everyone how to play soccer on broomsticks, and that would become the most popular sport. You could even do it with bludgers and the stupid snitch.

It speaks to a larger problem about the series - the wizard community seems determined to ignore the Muggle world, but that makes no sense. Muggles do some pretty cool stuff. No one I know listens to music exclusively from their own background, so at the very least one of those losers in Hufflepuff would have liked U2.

pop corona admin, vol liv - seinfeld 2020

I've always gotten a kick out of Seinfeld2000, a Twitter and Instagram account that gained internet acclaim for posting plot summaries of Seinfeld under the premise of the show being on air today. In the age of COVID-19, imitators rushed into the game and all kinds of amusing ideas could be found cruising the Information Superhighway - Kramer suggesting he could 'beat' the virus, George getting too used to working from home, and so on.

I had a nice time looking through these as part of my larger mission - a little fact-checking exercise, just to see if these ideas were already in the world. I couldn't find any matches, so here we go readers, my three cracks at it  - one concept, one plot summary, and one SCENE, the first (and last) TOA forays into the world of Seinfeld in 2020.

Concept (George)

I can never quite shake off the odd feeling I get in grocery stores when I see someone carefully examining produce like it's, you know, 2019. But I didn't get a sense of its ubiquity until I heard a story about a little old lady who terrorized a local LOL Foods by picking up every single cabbage on display before deciding she wanted to buy something else. It sounds like pure Costanza - "you gonna touch every melon, Costanza?"

Plot summary (Elaine) - 'The Quarantine'

Elaine is leaving a grocery store with extra toilet paper (insert 'square to spare' joke here). On the way out, she bumps into George's parents, who tell her they are just returning from a cruise - we don't really buy this 'corona' stuff. "GET OUT" she screams, and shoves Mr. Costanza. After he comes up coughing the next night and goes to the hospital, everyone who came into contact with him must go into a two-week self-isolation, during which Elaine slowly drives herself crazy while going on virtual dates.

Meanwhile, Jerry lends a hand to Kramer, who is afraid to go out, and brings him extra toilet paper - until he discovers he is reselling rolls for double the retail price. And George's elaborate web of alibis about not being in contact with his parents comes crashing down around him during an ill-fated ZOOM call with local health officials, one of whom recognizes him as "the short, bald man who refused to wear a mask" when he visited his father at the hospital.

Scene - Jerry's apartment (Jerry, Kramer, and a special guest)

INTERIOR - JERRY's apartment

(JERRY is sitting on the couch, moving his finger up and down on his phone screen. KRAMER loudly enters, sliding through the door of the apartment while holding a long stick.)

KRAMER: Jerry! Look at this! Jerry!

(JERRY continues scrolling through his phone.)

KRAMER: Jerry!

(KRAMER waves the stick. Jerry looks up, startled.)

JERRY: Oh my - what is that?

KRAMER: I call it my Corona Sword - what do you think? It's two yards long, so you know how to stay socially distant.

(KRAMER thrusts the stick at JERRY, who leans back.)

JERRY: Watch it!

KRAMER: Come on, Jerry, think about it - how far is six feet? You don't even know!

(KRAMER steps toward JERRY.)

JERRY: Oh believe me, I know - I know how far six feet is.

KRAMER: Do you, Jerry? Do you? Would you bet your life on it?

JERRY: Well, no -

KRAMER: Think about it, Jerry! Every person in the world needs this! Think of how much money we could make! It's gold, Jerry, gold!

JERRY: Wait, what is, is that tape?

(JERRY points at the middle of the stick, which is covered in duct tape.)

KRAMER: Oh well, yeah, sure, Jerry -

JERRY: Let me see that.

KRAMER: It's a company secret! I'm going down to the patent office later -

JERRY: Is it just two yardsticks taped together?

KRAMER: Well, Jerry, some might say, some might say that, but this is advanced stuff, Jerry, it saves lives, this is huge -

JERRY: You can't patent taping two yardsticks together!

(JERRY grabs the CORONA SWORD and pulls - it comes apart in the middle.)

KRAMER: Jerry! Look what you - wait, Jerry, you genius!

JERRY: Now what?

KRAMER: Jerry, don't you see? You just lowered our cost! If everyone had one three foot stick, it's half the material, but everyone would still need one -

JERRY (excited): You could just point it at someone, and as long as they can't touch you back -

KRAMER: You see? Exactly! Three and three is six!

(KRAMER points his half of the CORONA SWORD at JERRY, who points his half back at KRAMER.)

JERRY: En garde!

KRAMER: Touche!

JERRY: We're too close, our tips are touching!

(KRAMER and JERRY begin giggling as they wave at each other. Meanwhile, the door creaks open, and NEWMAN's face appears between the lock and the frame. He is wearing a MASK.)

NEWMAN: Oh, hello Jerry...

(JERRY turns.)

JERRY: Hello... Newman.

NEWMAN: Good to see you gentlemen are keeping busy... during these uncertain times (cackles).

JERRY: What do you want, Newman?

NEWMAN: Oh, nothing. Just checking in on my friends who aren't... essential workers... (he waves a handful of letters and laughs loudly, but his MASK slips down to his chin. A look of panic crosses NEWMAN's face as he quickly withdraws his face and closes the door.)

JERRY: Newman!

proper corona admin, vol 53

It took over two months, but I've finally figured out the right routine so I can manage living in a studio apartment with constant internet access. I simply shut down the computer for good before I eat dinner - not closed, not sleep mode, powered off and shut down. Sometimes I'll use the flip phone to check if I've received any email, but nothing has happened so far to make me turn the laptop back on and respond to those messages on the same night. Not surprisingly, I'm reading now, sleeping better, and waking up at a regular time, but I must admit it's a little befuddling how it took me so long to figure out such a simple solution to the problem.

proper corona admin, vol lii - the bench

Over the weekend, a friend pointed out that it was our ten-year college graduation anniversary. Wow! As they say, time flies in quarantine.

In this reflective moment, I wondered briefly about what I learned in school that was helping me the most during this pandemic. There were a few candidates, but the winner became obvious very quickly - playing, or in my case not playing, on the college basketball team. When I get asked what position I played, I sometimes offer 'bench', and other times I lie. In terms of competitive action, I played six total minutes in four years. For those who like apples to apples comparisons, I did a rough back of the envelope calculation to translate years into minutes - four years, twenty-five games a year, forty minutes per game equals four thousand minutes. I played six minutes out of four thousand, and three of them on Senior Day. Still, even without the math, it's clear what happened during my college basketball career - almost nothing, just like now.

There were three really important beliefs that got me through the four years. These are basic ideas, almost simplistic, but for some reason regularly forgotten. Most people I know think they do all of these things all of the time, but for the most part they are just like me - coming up short in at least one of the three beliefs. During this lockdown, my sense is we are all falling short in these three areas, and perhaps by stating them now it will help someone over these next few weeks.

First, optimism about your future - you need to believe that things will get better for you and you need to constantly reinforce this belief for yourself. I'm not talking about the rational, big picture future, where we know human progress and innovation and technology will eventually make us all slightly better off. I'm talking about the irrational belief in your future, about which no one is allowed to change your mind. This belief is all about you and your future. Sometimes people will go out of their way to tell you that you don't have a future, as my coach did after our tryout period in my junior year - you can stay on the team until you graduate, but you probably won't play. I remained polite, but my internal response was a close variant of "fuck off", reminding myself that the truth was entirely wrong, so that my optimism remained intact.

Second, agency paves the road - you need to believe that wherever you are going, you won't get there unless you build your own path through deliberate, focused, and relentless effort. I recommend following your own instincts in terms of building your strengths, as I did in my senior year. Our offseason strength program would make me stronger and larger, but I knew that if I wasn't in the best shape on the team I would have no chance to get into a game, so I tailored the workouts to add power without sacrificing my conditioning. However, when it comes to weaknesses, I recommend following expert advice, as my coach provided after my sophomore season. Here was his assessment of my return after almost six weeks recovering from an ankle injury on our last day of preseason - porking became a negative factor. I remained polite, but I rationalized until my internal response involved some variant of "fuck off" and I left campus in spring ready to quit. I eventually acknowledged that I could make the truth wrong, so I packed my running shoes for my flight to Japan, ran a few kilometres every day, and came back to campus that fall twenty pounds lighter.

Finally, accept your role - you need to recognize that although everyone else is in the same boat as you, not everyone steers the ship. In fact, not everyone even gets to go out on the deck. When you are on the bench, you mentor the freshmen, offer observations to the seniors, and challenge every teammate to compete at the highest level in practice. This is what you do every single day. Your role can change, whether you want it to or not, but what never changes is that you accept your role and give it your full effort every single day. When my coach emailed me a few games into my senior year and wrote something along the lines of - keep up the practice effort, and your role might change - I remained polite, but I invented an internal response that involved some variant of "fuck off" just so I could keep focused on my current role. It took four more weeks of the same effort before I could acknowledge that there was nothing wrong with the truth, as my role did change, for three entirely forgettable minutes against Husson.

These are the things I learned at school that are the most relevant in this current moment. Every day, I recognize a difficult aspect of the present, but remember that one day I'll look back on today as another overcome obstacle, no matter how irrational it seems right now - optimism about your future. Every day, I think about my life journey, and decide what I can work on now to create my path. I try to be honest with myself about my strengths, accept help to identify my weaknesses, and resolve to rewrite my story through deliberate, focused, and relentless effort - agency paves the road. Every day, I aim to contribute to the larger cause, leveraging my understanding of a TEAM to give a full effort all the time, and keep myself focused on my current role regardless of how things might change in the near future - accept your role.

We are entering an important period in this pandemic - the swerve lane, between full-scale lockdown and some tentatively imagined vision for a new normal. It remains very much a team effort. For many, contributing from the bench is a new challenge, and although it's not as novel as it was three months ago it remains a difficult truth of the current moment. It's a major mental challenge for most of us to do the best thing we can do for the team if that means sitting on the bench and keeping certain disagreements to ourselves. The bench is never an easy place and sometimes you end up there for much longer than you ever planned. But there is nothing wrong with it, the truth is that most of what's wrong with the bench is entirely up to us, it is up to our mentality, and our beliefs. The game always ends, another one always begins, and it might be time for you to come off the bench. With optimism, agency, and acceptance, you can contribute from the bench while doing all you can to be ready to play.

proper corona admin, vol 51

The specific barrier preventing me from entering teaching is the fear of 'teaching to the test'. As you know, in education this means prioritizing a student's ability to answer test questions ahead of other concerns. People approaching the point of getting to know me - let's call them 'ascending acquaintances' - will often suggest I become a teacher, but they overlook 'teaching to the test', and my fear that it would pull me away from bringing out the best of my students. If you are clueless about math, my interest is to help you get a clue, not pass the state's geometry exam.

But isn't knowing how to pass a test a useful life skill? It might be in a situational sense, but I suspect knowing how to make the best of a bad situation temps us to do less about changing the situation. I think our current moment is an interesting example. As our cities and towns start to reopen, health officials are measuring progress by monitoring a handful of important metrics. It's a small concern, but not a trivial one - we'll reopen either when it's safe to do so, or when folks figure out how to game the metrics. Now reader, you may be scratching your head - where could anyone have learned the skill of passing a test, just to mask an underlying lack of qualifications? It won't ever be from me.

leftovers - proper corona admin, vol 35.0 - data science has a null hypothesis

I posted Volume 35.0 about two weeks ago but I must admit that I was rudely interrupted - I was just about to go off on a data science rant, but unfortunately my half-finished post went up before I could shake the remaining ink out of my pen. Let's blame that damn editor, always getting in the way (editor's note - not true, on average or otherwise, editing is an essential business).

Anyway, today I'm back to finish off my interrupted rant about data science.

TOA finishes off the rant about data science

We all know I'm prone to go on a data science rant from time to time. I think that's fine, based on my experiences I've earned it, and of course I think I'm right about the false promises made by the field. I'm not going to rehash my tired arguments today.

Of course, if I believe in one thing, it's to prove myself wrong, so I try to spend some of my leisure time seeking out contrary information. It's a good way to test my own hypotheses. In my endless quest to maintain a correct perception about data science - technology's future since 2001! - I occasionally check in on articles or newsletters to see what's new and exciting in the field. If things change, I'll change my opinion, but amazingly nothing seems to have changed in the past few years. It's still prohibitively expensive, still leveraging semantics to deflect criticism, and still measuring success by intricacy of method rather than impact of result. In my most recent news roundup, I read for the 10,000th time about a data scientist out there moaning - all I need is clean data! I double checked, it wasn't from The Onion.

The clean data concept always fascinates me. I often wonder - OK, but if you had clean data, the problem would already be solved, right, by someone less skilled... like me? It reminds me of an old joke about economists - an economist sees a $20 bill on the ground, but walks past it, thinking - if it was really a twenty, someone would have already picked it up. They might be rich, but I'm $20 richer. I guess the key question is, at what point will I become too good to pick up a twenty? It's probably right around when I become too good to clean up the data. If you can't do your job without perfect conditions, how good are you at your job? I don't go to Dr. House when I cut my arm, I go when no one has a clue why my tongue is swelling up. Further, it would be odd if he (or any doctor) complained that the patients were always sick.

However, as I've thought more about data cleanliness, the more I've noticed my position shifting as it regards data science. In my most recent news roundup, I realized that the fundamental problem in data science isn't very different from the fundamental problem in most fields - a lack of clear, highly defined questions. (In this sense, data science is a lot like TOA.) Unclean data is an issue, sure, but no data is clean until a question comes along and sets a standard of cleanliness. It's like how my doorknobs used to be clean, but then this pandemic came along and now it's a disease vector.

One of the data scientists I work with sometimes refers to himself as a 'data janitor'; past colleagues have invoked the 'data plumber' comparison. These references to the cleanup aspect of the work are rare instances of self-deprecation missing the point - cleanup is the work, as it is whenever science requires the assistance of data. Most of science doesn't work without clean data and most scientists seem to have accepted that it's their job to ensure the data is clean enough for best practices and techniques. In this current pandemic, I can't help but think of John Snow's famous work during the London cholera outbreak - did he complain to The Lancet that his entire job consisted of cleaning up messy data? Maybe he did, but he still managed to find the time to reach a meaningful conclusion.

One advantage Snow had was a highly-defined question - why are people all over London getting sick? It gave him a reference point for a hypothesis, set the definition for clean data, and helped him focus his efforts. When I read about data science or talk to data scientists, it seems like the lack of clear problems is always at the root of every problem. The end result is predictable - a lot of endlessly cool accomplishments, often incorporating complex, intricate, or advanced techniques, yet no obvious progress toward solving our most pressing issues. This article has been hard to get out of my head for a long time - the concept of using 6,000 data variables per map is cool, but what can any data map tell us that isn't crystal-clear in the two photographs included within the piece? And what to make of the mapmaker's comments which imply confusion about how hypothesis testing works, suggesting 'use data to support the hypothesis'? I don't recall the point of science being to prove yourself right.

It might be a little easier if Atlanta treated poverty with the same urgency that London once demonstrated for cholera, and framed its issues in terms of problems that helped the field direct its efforts. I'm increasingly certain this is the next critical step. You could argue Snow had just enough data to solve his problem, but I think Snow had just enough problems to use his data. Without the focus and direction of a clear problem, data science is going to continue making the worst of its strength - finding patterns - just as individuals have invented correlations since the dawn of time.

But like a promising teenager, data science is on the cusp, and with a little focus might soon convert its potential to results. It's been said that when it comes to technological progress, we overestimate the next year but underestimate the next ten. My glee in reminding people that the autonomous car is just around the corner - but stuck in its own traffic - often closes the door on bringing up the latter half of the aphorism. What comes around that corner a decade from now is going to be interesting for sure, and impossible to predict, because it will be a promising field's answer to a very difficult question - what do you want to be when you grow up? Like it's been the case with just about anyone I knew in their teen years, the answer will be worth the wait.

proper corona admin, vol 50

The recent talk about reopening has given me a chance to dust off my game theory skills. Simply, game theory means 'if-then' thinking to work out a decision. In the context of reopening, I'm finding game theory a useful way to work out the consequences for my possible decisions. For the most part, I'll probably stay away for quite some time.

The logic is very simple. The places first to reopen will attract those most tolerant of risk, and make these places more dangerous. I know our bars and restaurants will take significant precautions and many of their customers will be far more careful than me. But in this pandemic, the issue is just one careless person, and these are the people who will be out and about as soon as we reopen.

I've used a similar logic just walking down the street these past two months. If someone approaches without a mask, I duck out of the way. It's not because I'm paranoid about 'asymptomatic superspreaders', it's because the people who take risks are more likely to get infected, and people who take risks include those who don't wear masks.

pop corona admin, vol 49

It's Friday, time to lighten up y'all! More notes and observations from my return to pop culture.

Harry Potter (just one, I promise)

I understand the wizards probably can't solve all Muggle problems, but surely they could help with hunger? We know it's possible, Hagrid uses an engorgement charm on his pumpkins, so why couldn't Hogwarts students blow up hot dogs in detention rather than wander the Forbidden Forest, cut themselves, or answer fan mail?

Build me up, buttercup

The Foundations released 'Build Me Up, Buttercup' in 1968, so maybe life was different a pandemic ago. But I'm confused by the verse that starts "I'll be over at ten...". OK, so Buttercup is coming over, but is late, and you can't take anymore so you go to the door and... "it's not you". So who is it? Someone else is obviously there, but who else is coming over at ten?

If I invited Buttercup over at ten and someone else was just standing outside the door, I'm not singing the chorus, I'm calling the police. Either that, or I just figured out why Buttercup isn't coming over, and ruined the song for myself.

Star Wars Episode I

This movie is a known problem without my input, but I just can't get over the lightsaber duel. How does Darth Maul lose? I've studied it for an hour and it makes no sense. He handles the two Jedi together, then gets them into a situation where they go one at a time, where he surely has an overwhelming advantage. And we know it's not a fluke, as he alone possesses the skill to handle a double-edged lightsaber - the other Jedi don't even use two regular ones at the same time! What happened in the new trilogy, did rock lose to scissors?

proper corona admin, vol xlviii - reading reviews, v4.11

A few days ago I mentioned I was finally thinking about the big question - when will this end? - but I was having some trouble focusing on the question. And as it sometimes goes with this rubbish little space, I've found that by not following the spark when it first flickered to light, my interest in the idea is gone, and with it the energy to finish the post. I guess in the end I concluded it doesn't matter, it's not like the end credits are going to roll on The Great Lockdown and we'll all just stroll out of the theater back into our old lives. This isn't going to just end, we are all going to continue adjusting, and try to be as well as it's appropriate to be during this long, long moment. My entire premise was flawed, so I sent it to the scrap heap.

This is no problem, though, because as it always goes with this rubbish little space, I've discovered once more that starting to write is the best way to generate new ideas. These thoughts, specifically about my reading process, were summarized a few days ago - I read so I can change, whether in response or as initiator, but while nothing changes I see little reason for reading. But even before lockdown my reading process was changing, particularly around my notes and how I used them for retention, because my process was coming under time pressure and I no longer felt it was sustainable for the long term.

Lockdown proved my prescience - despite all this time, I haven't caught up to my backlog. Funny thing, as we hit the start of month three I've yet to take a single note, or write a reading review. As stated earlier, I'm barely reading. But I think I have my plan in place for the future, something I'm loosely organizing as a "4-1-1" strategy, which fits because the goal is to have the information I need within easy reach. It came from advice I gave to someone else - I suggested writing down three things about every book, one agreement, one disagreement, and one change. Later that day, as I was patting myself on the back for yet another great bit of advice, I realized - I should probably follow my own advice.

In a sense, I was more or less doing the same thing already, but with less structure and discipline, which in turn meant less commitment, and also greater verbosity. My situation was an emergency of sorts, a true 9-1-1, as my notes were around nine things I agreed with for each disagreement, and each change. 4-1-1 feels better, four important sentences or so per book, along with a disagreement and a change. I'm hoping to build this into the reading reviews, once I restart those, and any notes beyond the 4-1-1 will be kept firmly out of sight in the darkest corners of my Google drive.

Until then, I plan to continue with the current crap. As always, thanks for reading, or not - in this moment, either way is fine.

proper corona admin, vol 47

The other day someone suggested to me that the pandemic was overblown, possibly a hoax, no more dangerous than the common cold. The last part grabbed my attention. Just now, I saw that US deaths were approaching 90K, with the worldwide total over 300K. Some cold.

This kind of argument was more common a couple of months ago, the strained comparison often invoking the flu - we don't shut the country down for flu, why do we shut it down for corona? I admit it, I didn't have an initial counterargument, possibly because there is some logic in the point. The flaw is obvious in hindsight - hospitals have never been overrun by the flu.

The pandemic posed a simple, important question to the world - when does a disease cross that line where we are willing to pause everyday activity and divert significant resources to the fight? I guess it's when the total number of treatable patients exceeds treatment capacity. I think seeing this response in action is a positive result of the pandemic. After all, if you had asked me six months ago about society's attitude toward preventable deaths, I would have given a far more cynical answer than I can today after what I've seen thus far in 2020.

proper corona admin, vol xlvi - the first thing

As long suffering TOA readers know, I'm a major advocate for rules of thumb, regularly collecting quotes or phrases to guide my various self-improvement projects. I often catch these ideas drifting through my mind right as I'm about to make an error. For example, just yesterday I reminded myself one thing at a time when I realized a second topic had bubbled to the surface of a work email. And of course, at some point on every run I'll recall lean forward, choppy strides, usually at the exact moment I sense my shoulders tilting back, the clearest signal that my technique is drifting away from the standard.

In terms of writing, I've long thought when an ending appears, grab it was my best rule of thumb. I understand many writers wrestle with endings, their ceaseless struggle to pin down the muse locked in fruitless grappling, so I felt fortunate to have the assurance that if I chose to keep going, I would win by decision, and reach the finish line. As the old saying goes, it's always the last thing, but it doesn't come until the end.

But in the early days of The Great Lockdown, I discovered a new foe - The Beginning. The beginning had never been a problem before, mostly because even in my most prolific days I gave myself two to four weeks of lead time for each post. The opening line probably never came easy, but it never seemed like a problem. I was like the gazelle living in the land without cheetahs - it never occurred to me to worry about a lack of speed.

I turned to my alumni network but, alas, I learned that Internet University has no graduates in the field of Getting Started - in fact, the internet seems to have a special attraction for procrastinators. It seemed like the writers who can do it should be sponsored by Nike because they just do it, and have no insight into their own gift. There is a common extension of this problem when these naturals still try to explain their ability, like the baseball players who talk about seeing the ball before hitting it (science says it is impossible to 'see' the ball - it means the skill is different than the explanation, perhaps unexplainable, not that these players are unskilled). On the other hand, people who can't just get started are given the blanket diagnosis "writer's block" and prescribed a random assortment of remedies including going for a long walk, going for a short walk, or playing with toys.

It's possible I'm in denial, maybe I'm just one prompt-a-day calendar away from solving my problem, but I always felt that my issue was a little different. I knew what I wanted to do, I just couldn't get my word count from zero to one. My situation resembled more of a functional issue, like an office worker who found his tires slashed during lunch break. I knew what I wanted to do - call the police, fix the tires, cancel my next meeting - I just didn't know what to do first.

I eventually went back to the source, and dug out another winner - just say the most important sentence first. It's great advice (and by the way, combining it with when an ending appears, grab it is an unassailable Twitter strategy). The problem I've had with writing is my set of ideas about writing - I should have an intro sentence or paragraph, there should be a buildup of arguments or ideas (preferably in threes), I should acknowledge other points of view. In other words, my recurring problem is worrying about ornaments before I have the tree. It's not like I should or shouldn't do any of those things, but decorations go across leaves, petals, and branches. The writer who worries about any of that before planting the seed of the idea is as crazy as the writer who ends the piece with the first thing that popped into his head.

proper corona admin, vol 45

So the idea for today was to finish the post I intended to publish Saturday. What happened on Saturday? Well, you see, Youtube got me... different strokes for different folks, right?

Anyway, I sat down to explain a hard problem, which was - when will this end? - and got sidetracked. But, today, take two! I got off to a decent start, thinking critically and clearly (but mostly critically) about the lockdown, when it might end, what could happen, and so on. The obvious change was a return to some normal activity, and I started to list the ones relevant to me - going to work, volunteering, various social activity, the library...

And now we're sidetracked again, because it's been almost three months since my last library trip, and I've been fine. The short version is, I've mostly stopped reading books. In fact, my rate is so low at the moment, I could probably just buy all the books I read instead of stomping over to the library for the freebies - the cost won't be prohibitive, I'll have less infection possibilities to worry about, and having my own books might prove useful during COVID-20.

I guess the question is, why am I not reading now, and is this a permanent change? I came up with the answer when I was thinking about something slightly unrelated - I've always read as a starting point for change, but since my life isn't changing very much at the moment, I have no need for reading. I guess the answer is pretty straightforward - once my life stops being the same day, over and over, I'll feel the pull of the library again, and return to my old ways.

proper corona admin, vol xliv - lifting from the bottom, politically correct edition

OK, last week I promised a shorter (but not too short!) 'Goldilocks' version of the May 5th post, here goes:

"Early on in the pandemic, I heard the phrase 'food insecure' used to describe the challenge being addressed by an area food bank. And I was like, what's that mean, like you eat in private because other people make fun of your lunch? Seems like the pandemic would be a good thing for these folks, what with the distancing and all, and also thanks to whoever named my problem.

Turns out, 'food insecure' roughly means access to food, and access is a multi-layered factor that includes a physical consideration. In short, as usual I'm an idiot, there was more than met my eye, and there's obviously a context for when this phrase and its precise definition is important.

It wasn't important for the context I heard it, though, since it was about a food bank. For about six months, I spent a few hours a week at a food bank. We didn't ask clients if they were 'food insecure', we asked them if they were poor, using income as a proxy. On my last day, I realized I was making less money than the clients. To me, overusing expressions like 'food insecure' is just another way we hide poverty, the same we do when we use proxies instead of the real thing, and equate treating symptoms with curing the disease."

The above risks simplifying the issue, but I think the issue is simple. This is a funny feature of issues - when you forget to decide in advance that an issue must be complicated, it often turns out that the issue isn't complicated. And if you've spent some time addressing these issues at the grass roots instead of just talking about them from distance, you understand that the front lines don't have time for complexity, and why those who immerse themselves in complexity eventually retreat.

I think the simple issue is that at a certain level we all accept that some people will be in poverty, and until that thinking changes we'll address rather than solve poverty, likely through a proxy list of related issues. Further, these issues will become needlessly complicated as the distance grows between symptom and condition. Here's an example of my simple way - compare one map of Boston showing coronavirus rates by neighborhood against this list of Boston rents by neighborhood. I didn't crunch the numbers to the last dollar, the math is too complicated, but a simple glance suggested that the lower the rent, the higher the infection rate. My not so juicy conclusion - no money, mo' problems. But we knew that long before COVID-19, right? Not all of us, I guess.

The problem I wrote about a few days ago, my problem with Bernie - and I guess the problem that sunk him, since he's out of the race - is that income inequality is a massively complex issue, and therefore requires a massively complex solution. It's hard to campaign on complexity and, in the world of the Magalomaniac, feels like a losing strategy against a simple message. Now, I'm not suggesting a simplification of every issue to make it fit the strategy of a campaign - I'm suggesting a campaign strategy that finds the simple issues. Otherwise, we'll end up distilling income inequality into tax the rich, and although it isn't exactly an inaccurate summary of Sanders's plan, it creates some vulnerabilities in the position, namely why we would treat those who deserve their wealth the same as those who have essentially stolen it.

Here's a hypothetical example illustrating why I don't like seeing complex issues simplified for campaign purposes. Suppose tomorrow someone 'solved' coronavirus - maybe she invents a cure, or finds a vaccine, or merely translates Trump's suggestion to consume ultraviolet into some kind of salable, scalable inhalable. Whatever the detail, in this hypothetical today's problem is solved tomorrow. Let's call our imaginary savior Doctor TOA. How much wealth would Dr. TOA deserve? Does $50 billion seem too high? Actually, it seems too low, at least if you accept the premise of this article, which suggests the virus may cost us $2.7 trillion in lost value. Even if you think the estimate is too high, or flawed, or whatever, and want to cut it down to some arbitrary number - $500 billion - then $50 billion would be 10% of your made up figure. Another estimate I came up with is $121 billion, using total virus deaths as of today (242K, which means this number will increase by the time you read it) and multiplying by $500K, which the military apparently pays families of soldiers killed in Iraq or Afghanistan as a death benefit. So would my hypothetical Dr. TOA deserve $121 billion, the full (but approximate) value of human life lost to the virus?

Whatever the final dollar total, the tricky part comes next - could we then all agree not to include Dr. TOA when calculating income inequality in the future? The reason I bring this up is because the rich of the future will include people like Dr. TOA, and as long as we have The Not Rich, they will come up with an idea to tax The Rich. It's pretty easy to envision the debate, one side will note how we agreed at the time that Dr. TOA deserved the wealth - why change the rules? The other side will counter - tax the rich! And so it goes, and will go, on and on and on.

I'm not so sure my hypothetical is too far off the mark. In some ways, I feel like we are at that last stage I outlined above - on this list of the richest people in the world, I see wealth associated with Google, Microsoft, and Oracle. These companies didn't solve the equivalent of COVID-19, but much of our current social distancing is enabled by the successes of these organizations. Relatively speaking, they are probably deserving of their wealth, but I don't think this consideration is part of any proposed income inequality solution, probably because it's "too complicated". It should be. Talking about 'solving' income inequality without stating who deserves their wealth feels like a reckless shortcut, at least from a political point of view, because you'll have to either treat everyone the same (meaning you punish productive activity through taxation the same as you would greedy activity) or commit time in the future for deciding exceptions (inviting things like lobbying into the process, which might bring us back to square one).

Let's get away from the imaginary and look at a specific plan. One of Bernie's primary mechanisms for lowering income inequality involves taxing companies where the CEO to median worker ratio exceeds 50 to 1. As a theory, I love it, but I bet a lot of voters look at that idea and see utopia - namely, one where corporations meekly pay higher taxes and make no change to worker compensation. Right? Please, stop it - you lost every voter who believes a corporation would respond by laying off employees, or implementing widespread pay cuts, or slashing benefits to make up for the difference, or sending jobs offshore, or converting full-time salaries into contractor roles, or any other thing they've done throughout world history to dodge taxes. Honestly, sometimes I feel like I'm the only person who believes all this, yet still would have voted for him. Regardless of who wins in November (my guess: regardless of who wins, nobody is going to win) I'll have one lasting conclusion from this election season - if you feel compelled to run because of a complex issue, look for a simpler issue that gets at the same basic idea.

It's been about two full months since Super Tuesday, and I'm still shaking my head. This link on his website says it all - how does Bernie pay for his major plans? Who cares? Why is this the first link on his 'issues' page? Our national debt is over $22 trillion - why is funding suddenly an issue? The problem is that at a certain level we all accept that some people will be in poverty, and until that thinking changes we'll address rather than solve poverty, likely through a proxy list of related issues. One way to address this issue is to have a President who spends too much, but not too much, a steady pair of hands who has experience in an administration that only added somewhere between three and nine trillion dollars to the debt. The rest of us are bidin' our time until we're ready to address the real issues, those listed on Bernie's website - homelessness, funding and expanding social security, climate change, universal health care, and more.

The only way to pay for all of those things is for everyone to pay for them, each American contributing a fair share, but that's obviously not possible when the poverty rate exceeds 10%. We have to address that simple but significant issue first, addressing the income gap from the bottom end. The idea of working your way up, making a better tomorrow for you and yours, has long been the American advantage, what made America great and will make it so in the future. But it doesn't work when so many people are stepped on, as you do with the bottom rung. To make it any more complicated than that, to think the problem can only be solved with the loops, swoops, and bull of policies, percentages, and politics, makes a knotty issue of a poverty line. We're going to be stuck in this mess until a candidate comes along who can state the simple issue - a system that enables unlimited wealth accumulation while there are still people living below that line is a system where no one deserves their wealth.

proper corona admin, vol 43

We're about a full two months into this quarantine business here in the great commonwealth of Massachusetts, which means about two full months of this daily nonsense, when I've made eye contact with about five people and my social life is a question of planning trips to the grocery store. The inevitable question, hanging out in the corner of each locked up room, looms larger and larger each day - is this it?

No, not the lockdown - God help us all if we want TOA's input about the lockdown, we'll all have our Corona faster than a bunch of freshman whipping out their fake IDs on spring break. I mean when will this end, the thing we are in right now, the daily proper corona admins. Sure, it was all fun and games when it started, but I must be honest reader, I thought we'd have a week or two of it at the most, and after I look at everything I've said, sometimes I wonder - is this it? Is this it???

So why continue? If everything's great, do I need to remember? And if not, what do I have to say that hasn't already been said, by someone actually suffering? It's hard to explain, but here goes - I say all these things, I play the long game, I like it right here, it's always the same, I'll watch my TV, the new story's old, they think I'm so dumb, they fear I'm so bold, I'll sit here and see, myself against me, eat wine and drink cheese, it's locks without keys, I coughed on my knees, but no one's near me, I'm trying you see, it's hard to explain.

pop corona admin, vol 42

The Joker famously asked - why so serious? I was thinking about that the other day, and admitted that it could have been directed at TOA. Why, since the lockdown started, I've threatened anyone who likes TED Talks, mocked anyone who identifies with a major political party, and criticized the safety conscious for their willingness to accept rough estimates. In general, TOA lately has been a barrel of laughs.

But, as I hinted in a rare moment of clarity, I do have my priorities straight. And although I haven't exactly spent ten hours a day rewatching old movies, I've come close enough to have some insights. So, let's have a respite, it is Friday after all, and take a closer look at my pop culture notes. And those who need the misery, no worries - Sunday's post is about poverty and politics. Fun!

The Dark Knight

I didn't rewatch this, too long, saving it for the next pandemic. But I checked out a couple of clips to research this post's opening line, and I'm confused now, because it seems like The Joker gives multiple explanations for his scars. What's the point? We know he's a lunatic, so no need to establish it. I remember enjoying this movie, but relative to everyone I knew I hated it, I was probably in the 5th percentile. And I liked it! But when a movie is 152 minutes long, each scene must count.

Harry Potter (just one, I promise)

Someone please explain why the best way to get to Hogwarts is to run at a solid wall in a regular train station. It's just reckless, and surely the game is up in the age of camera phones. These wizards couldn't figure out that using portkeys to get onto the platform might have made more sense?

proper corona admin, vol xli - ad in 5

During some of my 'tech-focused' admin updates, I've complained about ads on Youtube. Not original, but that's my life, just as it is for many others. But I don't want to create the wrong impression as I generally take a dim view of such complaints. To me, the so-called 'issue' of ads at the start and end of videos is a case of privileged people whining about their non-problems, and those who can't accept a business model that allows us to watch important videos for FREE should start (and eventually mind) their own business.

But I have a big problem with the mid-video ad. If you want to complain about the mid-video ad, I'm all ears. For those who don't know, or can't comprehend my prior sentence, I'll spell it out - it's when the video starts, you watch for a bit, then an ad comes in and tells you to buy CAR INSURANCE, because you know, some algorithm figured out I love going full speed into yellow lights. This is bad enough when I'm watching and listening, but at least I'll see a little warning come up on the screen ("Ad in 5"). The problem becomes twice as bad when I'm only listening, as I am right now, as I type this sentence, because one moment I'll be humming along, and the next... well, I don't need to buy flowers for Mother's Day, so that's another edit for the algorithm.

I've previously referenced my problems watching John Mayer reach his destiny, but I can live with it. My problems with Youtube start and end with U2, in particular my favorite three minutes in the band's history, which comes in around halfway through this clip. It was small consolation to see in the comments section that my positive and negative feelings were echoed by others.

But is there anything here beyond a lonely complaint, a powerless voice railing into the void of the quarantined emptiness? Yes, I think so. With this example, I think we can all understand a little better why some businesses fail, whether it be when a new idea withers on the vine or when an established winner loses its top spot. As a comment in the above link points out, placing an ad in the middle of the clip demonstrates a lack of pride in the platform. I agree, and add that such a small detail sometimes can be the first sign of a much larger problem. Would you read a book if paragraphs were occasionally interrupted to describe a skin care product? How about a podcast where the host stopped in mid-sentence to peddle running shoes?

Most people accept the truism that today's top businesses will be tomorrow's fallen giants. But who do you know that predicts Youtube will be internet rubble by 2040? The challenge of putting the truism into practice is that what often propels a company to the top isn't very closely related to what keeps the crown on the head. In fact, to me it seems like the ascent can be powered by an endless list of factors - accessibility, ease of use, low price, first-mover advantage, and so on. But a company that stays at the top has one thing to consider - quality. Business skirmishes will break out along the border of all those ascendant factors, but the final battle is always the same - which company is better?

If you had told me five years ago that short-form mobile videos would be a big deal today, I would have said the same thing as 99% of the world - wow, sounds good for Youtube. If you were one of those smart folks, you might have offered a rebuttal - well, actually, it's good news for Tik Tok. And I would have done the same thing as 99% of the world, I would have brushed it off with a clever little quip - wow, sounds good for Kesha. And if you insisted that I was a fool, that Youtube didn't have enough pride in its quality to fend off a competitor, I would have done the same thing as 99% of the world, and ended the debate with an indisputable fact - look, Vine already tried, and failed. 

This isn't to say I have a prediction about the future, at least in terms of who might be the best. I don't know much about most things, and Tik Tok is no exception. It's possible that if I look into the platform, I would see the same problems, the same lack of quality, that makes me unwilling to bet long-term on Youtube. But honestly, these ads, it makes me wonder why Youtube is an exception to what I consider a golden rule - no commercial interruptions in the middle of a performance. My guess is that it isn't, most things aren't the exception, and the leaders who think otherwise are doomed to see the limits of their rule.

proper corona admin, vol 40

The other day an odd headline made its way up and down the Massachusetts Information Superhighway - driving down, but accidents up. This article blames speeding and distracted driving, possibly the official causes of those twenty-seven fatal crashes. But here at TOA we point out that those causes are ticketed offenses, and wonder if we could draw more meaningful conclusions by looking at infractions rather than fatalities.

I'm even less impressed with CNBC, allegedly a news site that covers 'Wall Street' to 'Main Street'. Well, perhaps their HQ is on Easy Street, paved by this indirectly related article, where USAA CEO Wayne Peacock presents 'spring fever' or 'cabin fever' as possible explanations for recent upticks in car accidents. And of course, anecdotally, "there are more cars on the road". OK, so more driving always equals more accidents? The only data I saw in the article suggests driving is down 44% compared to a February average - are accidents also down 44%? This is the only relevant detail, but at CNBC I guess when data calls out sick, anecdote is the substitute teacher.

I say if you are going to identify causes, give us the relevant evidence. And if you must use anecdotes, at least give us a real anecdote, where YOU tell us what YOU saw, and link it to a relevant conclusion. My post from April 2 is what I would tolerate from anyone else - I make it clear that it's a theory, and explain it with my experience. When I see three drivers in one week going the wrong direction on one-way streets, I try to think about why, but I don't call it an explanation. If I ever want to extend my observation to fact, I'll find data correlating tickets to accidents, then see if one-way driving tickets went up during the lockdown.

proper corona admin, vol 39

Spain recently ended an eight week period where citizens were allowed outside for only three activities - buying food, picking up medicine, or... walking the dog. Walking the dog!?! The most dangerous trip is perro-less. If I were in Spain, I would have (1) meekly complied until it was safe enough to (2) move out. And I guess this means my parallel universes of Spain and Boston would converge here, given how I recently concluded that if I were moving Boston would be my top choice. Bienvenido, Senor Timo! Have you read El TOA?

But in lockdown, I'm not so sure. My list sought criteria that made life good, but I ended up with a list of what makes life easy. Sure, running by the river is great, but sometimes I prefer running the streets. I'm sure wherever I live I'll find space for running because a good life is my responsibility. It would have been wiser to consider the opposite - what makes life bad? The answer is hardship, and in the context of place, that means hardship contributed by the location. Often, you don't get a sense of this until times get tough, and the place responds by lending a hand, or not.

I think the dog walking exception reveals something important about the country, something I wouldn't have understood on my own during fiesta times. I'm not sure what it means, exactly, that I have to stay inside while the dogs walking past wake me up from my third siesta of the day. All I know for sure is that if I were in that position, there is no chance I would stick around long enough to find out what happens next time.

proper corona admin, vol 38

A few weeks ago, on Marathon Monday, April 20, I realized this would be the first year in quite some time that I didn't reread Maniac Magee. No big problem, just charge it to the Corona, only a small loss...

Right?

I must admit, it hit me hard. The part of the book that applies quite well to the current moment is Maniac's endless running, and as I approach thirty miles a week myself I think about this quite often. I remember how I'm always impressed by the way Spinelli weaves running into his story - it's one part therapy, two parts coping mechanism, and three parts snowball for his characters, and running  subtly keeps the story moving just when the characters seem out of ideas. Perhaps the specific line I've thought about most is eerily close to my current mental state - running in the mornings and reading in the afternoons gave him just enough stability... I guess the details are off, but I connect to the spirit, and the value of knowing how to put one foot in front of the other, over and over and over.

The most interesting thing happened on April 21 - I realized my initial disappointment, an intense, almost grief-like moment on April 20, had given way to complete forgetfulness. As far as running themes go, this one was consistent with my recent past - losses hit me harder in my thirties, but I move on much more quickly than I did in my twenties. After all these annual rereads, it's interesting that the fallow year is when I harvest the crop - lingering is in these pages, hanging around the other side of every corner, and in habits or routines is often an admission that we are simply not yet ready, not quite strong enough, to bear the pain and move on.

tales of two cities, vol xxxvii - border crossing

04/28/2020
Charles Circle - Charles St at Cambridge St (5:32 PM)
Central Square at Mass Ave / Essex St (5:45 PM)

It's sometimes hard to believe that it was nearly five years ago when I first used Hubway - hem hem, Blue Bikes, for those who take umbrage, though back then it was Hubway. But I'd like to think outside observers aren't surprised about my past. Isn't it obvious from the way I unlock the bike, nice and smooth each time, that I've done it a thousand times? Do rookie riders casually step on the pedals as I do, like I'm testing a yard sale StairMaster, waiting for jaywalkers to scramble up to the safety of the curb? And even though sometimes I bike slow, sometimes I bike quick, demonstrating expert skills as I navigate the endless obstacles of parked cars, texting pedestrians, and splintering asphalt that have long marked my many routes across the two cities.

I've become so good at using Hubway - hem hem, Blue Bikes - that I'm almost insulted when someone offers feedback. Thus, almost insulted I was on this fine spring day, as a technician behind me demonstrated how to secure the metallic seat post on a bike I'd briefly handled, then abandoned when I spotted another choice. I know, I nodded back, my mumble muffled by the undershirt I'd deputized around my face, a CoronaShield on budget. I knew how to do it, I just wanted a different bike, and though it didn't matter, it wasn't clear. Still, I try - sometimes metal hurts, and I don't want to get cut. It wasn't why, but it wasn't a lie, either. I do not tell lies.

I unlocked my bike - nice and smooth - and glanced at the technician, who ignored me as I pedaled away. No matter, being ignored is inevitable, it's basically state policy now, a modern survival skill. Each day, I'm separated from others by two yards. I protect my allotment of space like a surly suburban neighbor, and I try to find presence in those six feet away. It's a life that does not require a bike because I only bike when it's out of the way, and I don't go out of the way these days. Every vaguely familiar movement on the bike makes me wonder - was this second nature last time? Twenty-nine days without, and I'm sensing something slipping away, and not just the seat post that has started to slip, barely enough to notice, without notice.

My trip started at the Boston end of the Longfellow Bridge, where at some point unknown to me Beantown cedes jurisdiction to Cambridge. It's often a trivial matter, an issue for cartographers and the postman, but starting tomorrow the northern neighbor will require masks in public while Boston will remain optional. This will clarify my small question about the border's exact location on this bridge, because at some point slips will not be tolerated. Is there a no-man's land? And who will hold the line? I glide through the bike lane, and its implied security tempts my wandering mind - local police, acting like border patrol, hanging out at an invisible line and enforcing a polite checkpoint between the two cities. Uncovered Bostonians are gently turned back toward Beacon Hill, asked to come back wearing masks like passports, while they walk alongside the incoming tourists from Cambridge - six feet apart! - who lower their guard, and inhale deeply, filling their lungs with the fresh air of the capital, and feeling something inside that once came so naturally.

The Red Line rumbles along on my left. Surely, some passengers headed northbound, having boarded in compliance with Boston's laws, will need to don their masks as the train crosses the bridge. Years ago, I'd been on a train myself, an Amtrak train, headed for the northern neighbor. I learned in Buffalo that those still on board at Niagara Falls would have to wait while border patrol politely canvassed coach, checking intent, making sure all the passports and papers were in order, confirming identity, like validating permission slips, before allowing the train to finish its journey over the river. Nothing personal, just national policy. I had nothing to fear but I suddenly realized I was alone. Whatever was going to happen on the train was going to happen to me. I didn't want to stick around and find out, so I picked my own terminus and hiked along the river, to Rainbow Bridge, and walked into Canada a few hours later.

The bike path curved and hooked me back to the present. An island! I slalomed past on its left, staying inside the lines, then checked quickly over my shoulder before crossing into the car lane to pass a parked mail truck. The nondescript building that I knew was the Cambridge Amazon office flashed past on my right and I felt it all coming back. I recovered quickly and refocused on the path ahead, on the pothole in my future, and called on everything I knew to maneuver past it. I pointed my bike toward Central Square because when my freezer is empty I go to H Mart.

The light turned red, and I stopped. I knew what I was doing and I felt fine. I was on an essential trip, it was my right, and I was going to be fine. I looked around and didn't see anybody. The light turned green and I didn't think, I just went. At some point in these few short years, I'd learned that you never forget how to ride a bike.

04/28/2020
Central Square at Mass Ave / Essex St (6:07 PM)
Charles Circle - Charles St at Cambridge St (6:21 PM)

It's sometimes hard to believe that it was nearly four years ago when I first wrote about biking - hem hem, blogged, for those who take umbrage, though back then it was writing. But I'd like to think my longtime readers aren't surprised about the past. Isn't it obvious from the way I go back to everything that I'd have something to say about my adventures between Boston and Cambridge? Do I explore one thing while ignoring the adjacent, or only step into waters that others have charted? My novice wanderings across two cities were never about biking, just like the books I read or the sunrises I enjoyed were never about words, never about morning. Those were obstacles because I needed to avoid them, and markers because each evasion framed the journey. But the real trip on each bike was always in my head. I realized that no matter how far I traveled, I would always bring myself with me, and have to determine the significance of each trip for myself.

I've become so good at writing - hem hem, blogging - that I'm almost insulted when someone offers feedback. Thus, almost insulted I am, every time a reader applauds my topics rather than my writing, celebrating the destination rather than the endings abandoned on the journey. I know, I'll nod, and try to thank readers for reading, but my appreciation clangs around like a postman getting used to chain mail. I know what I picked, but the why is more important, the why not even more so, and though it matters quite a bit, it's never clear. I wonder if I should elaborate - sometimes words are abrasive, and I don't want to cut. It wouldn't be a lie, but it wouldn't be why, either. I do not know why.

I unlocked my bike - same one as the last time - and tried to secure the slipping seat post. No matter, sliding will be inevitable with my heavy backpack, now filled with natto. I always leave H Mart with the fermented soybeans, my favorite Japanese food. Each trip, I isolate myself with two feet. I generously cede aisle space like an unsure house guest sitting alone on the couch, and I try to find the presence of those six feet under. It's a task that does not require eye contact because everyone here is at home, and they go out of their way to welcome me. Every spark of recognition from a familiar sight or smell makes me wonder - isn't recognition reserved for what's already lost? I find the natto in the back, same as always like it's frozen in time, and when I look through the glass I feel something stir in me, briefly. The door opens, then closes, and the essential trip is over.

My trip will end on the Boston side of the Longfellow Bridge, where at some point unknown to me Cambridge returns naming rights to the capitol. My bag is heavy, the seat slides, but my mask holds. I'm ready for tomorrow. In some countries, lockdown means citizens explaining in writing why they are leaving their homes, like permission slips that outline essential trips - food, medicine, even walking the dog. I can't imagine, I can barely explain how I pick a bike, how will I ever explain natto to Boston? Well you see, it goes on rice, and smells weird, and, uh, it's essential, by the letter of the law? But I worry, as grocery stores are one need met adequately by Beacon Hill. Maybe on my permission slip, I'll bring the Whole Foods receipt, and circle where the Japanese yams are listed as 'ORIENTAL SWT POTATO'.

I exit Kendall Square, the bike lane all around me, its destination the bridge ahead. Years ago, I'd crossed another bridge, hours after that Amtrak trip, prepared to explain myself to the Canadians at the border. I was ready for tomorrow then, too, but only because the answer would be so easy going into the USA - I'm going home. The question ahead would be much harder - why are you coming to Canada? I had my stack of answers - printouts with maps and addresses, the falls, the casinos, the hotel. My bag was heavy, filled with clothes and a plane ticket out of Buffalo the next evening. I had a job interview coming up, and carried some prep materials with me. I didn't need any of this to answer the question - it wasn't national policy, it was personal. I was alone, but I suddenly realized I had nothing to fear. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen because of me. It felt important, like an unannounced practice for answering questions, so I took a deep breath and thought about it. Why was I going to Canada?

When I'd left the train, I walked along the river toward the falls. Despite all my preparation, I'd neglected to find a map of the trails, so I trusted my gut and followed the noise. It sounded like the wind at first, and it probably was, but it grew louder and louder as I hiked until the trees opened up on the trail ahead and I saw the mist, I heard the roar. I squinted at Niagara Falls in the distance but it was blurry, I couldn't quite make it out. At first I thought it was the mist, but I felt something stir in me that I hadn't felt in a long, long time, from back before my mom had died. I felt moved, I felt something thawing out, and in a few moments I felt the tears, too.

Why was I going to Canada? I was motioned forward, so I went. Whatever I'd said was fine, though it couldn't have been true. I hadn't lied, it's just that I was going to Canada because it was an essential trip but I didn't know this at the time. A trip is always essential, when every day is the same, and you lose track of who you are, and lose sight of where you are going. When you feel your identity slowly slipping into the past, and start to wonder where you've gone, a trip is essential to put life back into context. It's because no matter where you go, no matter how far away, two countries or two cities or just two wheels, if you bring yourself with you, you can find what you've lost, and pick up where you've left off.

The bike path straightens as the bridge comes into view. There are no options but to make it to the end, it's always been that way. On the left is the Amazon office again, and once more I feel it coming back. I didn't get that job, and remained unemployed for a few more months, until it became two years. I stand on the pedals, and step, faster and faster, surging up the hill in front of me. I remember when I heard the news that I'd felt bad, and after eating natto, I still felt bad, but I felt better. I slowed down at the top and looked around, the final stretch of the trip ahead, the Charles River expanding in full view to my right, and I felt something stir in me again. I let go and headed down, picking up speed, the lines blurring around me, knowing that where I was going, the curve was flattening, and I was going to be fine. At some point in these few long years, I'd learned that you never forget why you a ride a bike.

tales of two cities – helmet data analytics

I recently read Emily Oster's Cribsheet, her data-driven examination of the endless recommendations about parenting young children. Her primary tactic is determining the validity of study methodologies in order to understand the strength of various statistical conclusions. Her consistent refrain is to be careful with any data that does not separate the type of person from the parenting decision because no researcher can ever conclude from such studies whether the type of person mattered more than the decision in terms of influencing the observed outcome.

The book got me thinking about the ways I’m exposed to phony analytics. The bike helmet is a great example. Is the type of person who uses a helmet different from the type of person who does not use a helmet? I'd say yes, and would like to know the extent to which the safety gains are due to the nature of the person rather than the helmet. The question, unfortunately, has many layers. The helmet itself isn’t a going concern until there is some kind of head impact, and in those moments it's clear that you'd rather have the helmet. But do helmeted riders crash more often? Some researchers have studied whether wearing a helmet makes a person more likely to get hit by a car, generally exploring one of two hypotheses: (a) the helmet invites riskier driving or (b) the helmet encourages riskier cycling. It's tough to answer these questions and I'm grateful for those like Emily Oster who do their best to educate us with the truth.

One angle I haven't heard much about is how helmet ownership changes riding decisions. I'll offer my story as anecdotal evidence – after getting a helmet, I've felt less safe without it, and this had led to fewer rides. (Those in lockdown may be able to relate to a different version - having to wear a face covering, I feel less safe, and I go out less often.) I ride less often because when I forget to bring my helmet with me, I don't ride a bike, whereas in the past since I never 'forgot' the helmet I didn't own, in these situations I would have pedaled on as was my original intention. If we assume that bike accidents happen with equal probability regardless of helmet use, one sure way to lower the number of accidents is to ride less, and people who feel less safe will ride less.

Again, I simply pose the question of whether helmet use increases safety by emphasizing danger, which leads to fewer bike rides – I’ll leave any official verdict to the experts. It's not going to change my decision to ride with a helmet. But from my point of view, whatever the perceived benefit, it surely is being exaggerated by ignoring the marginal decisions made by people like me. The failure to account for such an effect is the exact sort of thing that leads people to (correctly) question the accuracy of the metric, and although the difference may be insignificant, whenever doubt is cast on the truth, the skeptics have an opportunity to misrepresent the error, discredit the overall idea, and make it more difficult for others to make good decisions for their health and safety.

tales of two cities – news, and one in one

Hi all,

Good news, and bad news, it's actually the same news - Tales of Two Cities is back for a limited run over the next few days. Three, in fact, including today. This seems the best way to keep up with this series, and mirrors how I ride bikes - ignore it for a little while, then ride a few times over a condensed period

If today is going to count as a post, there should be some substance, so here's a little teaser.

One in one

There is a sign I occasionally see on the side of the Hubway docks – eh hem, Blue Bike docks. This sign is basically a public service announcement encouraging cyclists and pedestrians to remain vigilant because one in four car accidents involves at least one other person on bike or on foot. Hmmm. Those are interesting numbers. I crunched them a little further and determined the following – one in one crashes involves a car.

Funny thing, I've never seen a sign warning drivers that one in four of their crashes will involve a person on bike or on foot. I guess there's nothing to worry about - auto body shops are better than ever, and will fix the scratch on your hood from my helmet, or repair the dent where the bumper struck my oversize ego.

proper corona admin, vol 36

One last politically correct thought... for now.

Partisan, part san, where I come from

So help me here, if there are two sides and they more or less divide up their policy preferences into parties, aren't we guaranteed to have mediocrity? It's not possible for one side to have all the right answers on all the issues, so the best we'll ever do is a few good ideas at a time, destined to be swept aside when the political see-saw crashes the other way and the opposing party gets to laugh at a sore tailbone. I guess it's not all bad, this process maximizes entertainment value and TV ratings, and only for the small cost of ensuring anything that would benefit from steady, incremental progress rots in a state of semi-initiation after a one-off initial investment.

That's not, politically, correct, just like Tuesday's post

You know what, to the theme of simple statements, I'm going to think of a way to simplify what I wrote Tuesday, instead of that wishy-washy nonsense about crossing lines. Of course, in the spirit of the 'just right' Goldilocks approach, we should do a 'too short' version to balance Tuesday's 'too long'.

Here goes:

"If we don't speak plainly about important problems, we'll waste time complicating lesser problems."

proper corona admin, vol 35.0

Hi all,

Locked down, but not locked out, at least until I forget my password.

What?

That was my way of introducing the post - more updates on how I'm doing with technology.

Like the other day, when you complained about ads?

Right, speaking of ads, I went on two websites last week and bought a pair of running shoes, one from each site. This led to my first experience with targeted advertising, or at least my first obvious experience - for the past few days, I've been inundated with banner ads flashing 'low' prices for the shoes I just bought, twice.

So you are mad that people want to help you buy the things you need?

No, I have a message for the geniuses over at Data Science University - stop advertising the shoes, I JUST bought them! The only thing runners and poker players have in common is that they don't need a third pair.

Very good, I'm sure the advertising industry will fold after your joke.

I'd be impressed if the banner ads were for socks. But surely, any moron knows if you buy two pairs of sneakers, the last thing you need is a third pair? The only thing I need more than another pair of sneakers is an editor.

Hey!

What? Why are you still here? Go home, stay home, save lives.

Editing is an essential business, though with the crap I sift through here, it might be considered trash removal, which is definitely essential.

Oh wow, strong words, and from someone who doesn't write them! You know what, enough for today, I'm going to go talk to a volleyball.

proper corona admin, vol xxxiv - politically correct party, part 2

It's SUPER TUESDAY... well, not technically, but it's Tuesday, and wouldn't it be super to talk more politics?

The politically correct line

There is a certain element of political correctness I never quite accepted about the proper way to reference problems. The first time I remember suspecting I was an unwilling player in this game was in college when I felt uncomfortable every time my professors said 'socioeconomic status'. My discomfort wasn't an issue with the phrase's intended use, it just felt like for our purposes in Economics classes it was a lie, or at least a sleight of hand, and I didn't immediately know why this was the accepted method. It felt to me like a blanket term that described anything bearing no resemblance to a comfortable middle class lifestyle. I understood the term was meant to capture a range of factors that influenced social standing, but it seemed to me that for the analysis we were doing separating 'poverty level' from these other considerations would have made for better work than lumping everything under a more comfortable phrase. Eventually, I figured out that playing the game was better than inventing an opponent, and simply went along with the terminology until I forgot my freshman objection.

I thought back to those days recently when Bernie Sanders officially suspended his presidential bid. The one thing I never understood about Bernie was why he didn't just say his campaign goal was to end poverty. He should have said it, over and over, until typing 'poverty' into Google would return his website. To his credit, Uncle Bernie did say a lot of things that would move us much closer to the ideal, he even said he wanted to end child poverty, which is an important subset of poverty, but he never stated the big idea so simply, so clearly, as others have done. And it's not like the point missed him, he understood that even in the context of significant human rights failures poverty reduction by any government is an accomplishment worth lauding.

Folks, most voters are in favor of candidates who promise to end endless conflicts. It's a good strategy because democracies are, or so at least the theory goes, not designed for prolonged states of war. Well, we've had troops on the ground since Lyndon Johnson declared war in 1964. Are we winning? I wonder what the effect on Bernie's campaign would have been had he simplified his message. I'm going to lift everyone above the poverty line. I'm going to end poverty, we're going to end, we're going to win the war on poverty, and end the poverty line. We're going to erase the line. Erase the line! Obviously, I can't be sure if this would have made any difference (and since he's so old, it's possible he invented the poverty line, making him an unlikely advocate for its end - erase the line? I wrote the damn line!!). But what I suspect is that since it took me so long (four plus years) until I realized he was the closest thing I'll probably ever see to a pure 'end poverty' candidate, it's likely there are others still out there who never realized it, and never will, so I suggest future candidates get in the habit of stating their line in the simplest possible terms.

Simplicity is often vastly underrated, especially by those who wrestle with complex problems until they pin down complex solutions. Sanders always came across to me as a complex thinker so I suppose it's possible he made a deliberate decision to base his campaign message on, well, his messages. If that was the case, then maybe he forgot that it takes people a long time to come around to new ideas, whether that be as simple as a wearing a face mask against a pandemic, or as complex as imagining a brave new world. In the real world, even one variable can be confounding, and if it doesn't line up with what we know, we find it hard to cross the line and besides, most lines are impossible to cross anyway.

But wouldn't it be something, a brave new world, where poverty is treated like a true emergency? Perhaps with firetrucks delivering food, rent, and smart phones to those who've briefly awoken into the nightmare of the American dream? I'll stay patient for now, I guess four more years at least, because I learned how in college, in fact I learned it from this kid I once knew, his problem was that he couldn't figure it out, he couldn't figure out why all the smart people around him wrote 'socioeconomic status', filling it into every blank space above the poverty line, until one day he saw that if you need the line, you'll fall in line.

proper corona admin, vol 33

March was in like a lion, out like a lamb.

In April, I was in lying around, or running, but not on the lam.

What will come in, or out, in May?

Wild life?

Yes, indeed, though the red-tailed hawk in the Public Garden doesn't count, that winner has been feasting on squirrels for years. I saw him the other day, in fact. Let's give him a cool name... Tobias? I'll get back to you.

But seriously, I've heard reports that in some areas social distancing measures have created an interesting side effect - more wildlife. Let's speculate, people tend to scare away wild animals, but there are fewer people out, so fewer chances to scare wildlife, leading to... more wildlife? Works for me.

I was walking home down a side street one Saturday night, and thinking about Tobias, and my wildlife theory. My stroll was interrupted when I emerged into an intersection full of people, arranged in a semi-circle with a radius of two yardsticks. It seemed like half the state of Iowa was caucusing, but I didn't need any hawk eyes to see the problem - on the corner was a fearless, kilted man, one iPhone or sneeze away from going viral, holding the bagpipes with the safety off. Chekov never said anything about instruments but I knew what was about to go down, and I flew back to my perch like a duck that found itself in Peking. Do they play 'Scotland the Brave' at your funeral if it was the cause of death?

It struck me later that although I've lived on this block for five and a half years, I'd never seen that man. Fewer people out on the streets may mean less opportunity to scare animals but it means less opportunities to scare people, too. I wonder if social distancing has had a side effect in terms of those with eccentric hobbies or talents, scared into hiding by the mean, and finding new definition for an average day.

proper corona admin, vol xxxii - how are you taki?

I've treated TOA readers to thousands of words about culture, in the sense of how an organization's culture is vital to its success. The drawback to my focus on the organizational level, however, has been a lack of insight into individual behavior. Sure, it's nice to have a great culture, but what does it look like to exemplify that culture? This is a vital concern, for a culture that can't reinforce itself is unsustainable, and this lack of reinforcement often ties back to team members having no clear way to build on the culture with their own behavior.

This brings me a personal highlight of the pandemic, these videos from Liverpool FC, which have proven more than once to be the light minute in a dark hour. Each one captures a few moments from the team's daily lockdown training routine and in the chaotic banter lives the entertainment. The bed head jokes, slacker accusations, and needling about social media posts are always in good fun (and I assume any negativity stems from the challenge of hanging out over video conference). Like any Liverpool fan, I've known the team is unusually tight-knit just from watching the games, and in these videos I have evidence of its closeness off the pitch.

After a few of these videos, an interesting feature started to catch my attention. The linked video above has an example around the two-minute mark - you good, Taki? The comment always comes from Sadio Mane, one of the team's biggest stars, and his question is always directed at Takumi Minamino, the team's new Japanese signing. 'Taki' signing at the start of January was a Major Event for me and my fellow Japanese Liverpool fans and in my excitement I read quite a bit about his arrival. One thing I recall now is that Mane was identified early on as one of the players helping him get acclimated, with a shared ability to speak German an important factor (they've both played in Austria). Further, the Senegalese had experience settling into England and the thought was that he could share his wisdom with the new arrival.

I can imagine what life is like for Taki these days, and the grind of trying to establish himself in a winning team while acclimating to a new country and its language, customs, and culture. The daily training sessions with the team were likely a critical part of establishing a new routine, but I suspect two months wasn't enough time to feel completely comfortable with the squad. The situation is obviously far more serious now in lockdown, so it's great to see Mane continuing to check in with Taki and help him feel welcome in the team.

Indeed, perhaps this is one of the biggest unspoken challenges of a strong culture - the team becomes so close that new arrivals start having a hard time fitting into the group. This problem, albeit consequential of great success, is one of the biggest threats to a sustainable culture. The problem is often exacerbated when new arrivals don't have much in common with their new team. In my managerial experience, this was consistently my most important problem, and I don't have any clever or special advice. I think at some point I decided that if the core of the problem was a collective issue, the solution must come from the collective. It wasn't a completely wrong idea, but like most of my early thinking about culture I should have challenged myself to describe the solution in terms of consistent, repeatable behaviors.

I've observed something in these videos that has shown me one possible direction for rethinking my conclusion. Mane's quick check in is a small reflection of manager Jurgen Klopp's consistent behavior. The videos show Klopp pulling the strings, sometimes subtly (like the way he personalizes his welcome for each new arrival in the chat) and in other moments much more obviously (like when he demands his players sing happy birthday in their native languages). As the leader of the team, Klopp knows he sets the culture, and what I see in these videos is the deliberate behavior of a manager who understands that this means being first - first one in the room, first one to initiate a conversation, first one to make an observation that reinforces or corrects a behavior. A repeatable behavior isn't repeatable until someone goes first and sets a clear example.

Klopp is widely credited with changing the culture of club upon his arrival in October 2015 and much has been written over the years about how he reshaped the team. Less is said about what he does to build on the foundation, but I'm very interested in learning more because to me it's the most interesting question about culture, and perhaps the most difficult - how do you elevate a good culture to a great one, where its best qualities reinforce themselves through the consistent behavior of the team? I think Mane's daily greeting for Taki speaks volumes to this regard. Klopp's culture, like any culture, can only be built so much by one leader before others must step in and do their part. The culture's evolution, through a process of reinforcement and progression atop its core foundation, relies on the collective behavior of the team. Some team members may naturally help the culture evolve, as Klopp likely did during his own playing days, but for the most part the players will rely on the manager's example.

It's clear that Klopp sets this example, clear because Mane checking in on Taki is just like Klopp checking in with everyone else. The behavior is probably overlooked by most observers because for the most part it doesn't seem to matter, but it's probably the most important thing Klopp has done in the past six weeks, and possibly throughout his tenure. The subtle aspect is that each individual check in doesn't matter, at least in the big picture. Does it really matter if Lovren calls Salah, or that Salah ignores him? They've been with the team for years and don't really need the check in. Does every player need to hear Ox sing on his birthday? Shaqiri might, but a lot of people I know don't care at all about their birthday.

What's important is that in a team there is likely someone who would love to hear a birthday song just as there is always someone who needs a teammate to check in, and the problem is that the leader can't meet these needs for every single person every single day. A great way to solve this problem, one way to ensure each person gets that personalized attention when it is most important, is to give everyone the same personalized treatment whenever possible, always demonstrating how to do so while remaining consistent to the culture. The team will see this and know how to pick up the slack when the leader has too much to do, or when it can't be anyone else but a player, maybe one day that player even being Taki, who reinforces the culture by asking in front of a new signing - how are you, Jurgen?