Photos , Oakland , Hiking , Fiddle , Mike
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Saturday, August 18, 2001
Yes! Continuing my trend of unabashed geek-fun, I've rejiggered my laptop: I'm now running a dual boot Win2k / Red Hat Linux system. Better yet, I'm running LiteStep on the Win2k side and KDE on Linux. This rocks!!!
Thursday, August 16, 2001
It's one those surreal San Francisco moments.
After winding my way through the City after work with hope and optimism in my heart, I hit a hard wall traffic. But, enduring a total standstill for twenty minutes inspired me to rethink my plans: Why not just park? Without anyplace in particular to be, why drive during rush hour? Why endure the pain? The Bay is only a couple blocks away and traffic always subsides if you just give it a hour. So, I decided to go find a nice spot on the Embarcadero and write.
But, en route, I was sidetracked. Walking by the Hills Bros. plaza, I realized it might offer a nice bench and shelter from the wind. That and a whole lot more! I'm on a 2 megabit wireless connection in the courtyard a building I've never visited before and sending this straight from my fountain-side seat.
San Francisco rules.
later,
/mike
Friday, August 10, 2001
Lest you forget, your data in entirely impermanent.
I don't mean this as some half-hearted reminder either. In the past week, your author has...
... destroyed one lovingly prepared backup disk while simply trying to add files to it using a fancy, powerful, and ultimately less-than-intuitive CD burning program. Same said German program is presently the most download CD burning software on CNET Download.com
... deleted three years worth collected bookmarks, only to be saved by the "undelete" feature a web site he just tried for the first time today (whew!)
... heard no less than three stories about people being given less than half an hour to leave their places work (and work computers) while being lorded over by security guards hired to prevent the "stealing" company property and data
... read a hilarious and ultimately not-to-paranoid account someone of who backs up everything all the time (Cory Doctorow @ Boing Boing - search for the word "Jewish")
... and (on a happier note) recovered an entire year's worth mail previously lost to Outlook Express when it suddenly decided to quit functioning one fine day. This was courtesy of the aforementioned now-destroyed backup disk contained a copy that mail.
Needless, to say, computing is an infinitely fallible pursuit. Remember all those nice digital pictures you've been saving for posterity? Remember all that sweet correspondence you've been having with your far-flung son or daughter? How about all those cool bookmarks you've accumulated over the past couple months while researching this or that?
Back 'em up.
That's all for me tonight. Computers aren't the only things that crash.
Goodnight.
Sunday, July 29, 2001
In some rash moment of anti-consumerist action last January, I canceled my cable T.V. I told myself stories about how I would read more and become an informed and active citizen. I would grow wise, astute, and deny my future children cable television in the well-intentioned way my 8th grade girlfriend's Irish parents denied her and her siblings. Surrounding myself with the well-mannered company books and newspapers, I would become musical and intellectual like my first love's German family. I would, in effect, acquire the qualities of people and families I admired by following their lead. And, to some extent, I have.
Little did I remember, all my anti-television acquaintances are National Public Radio junkies. So now am I!
Here are a few links to a few my recent NPR faves:
- Moira Gunn, the producer Tech Nation says that "obviously, it's time that each us sit down and make some hard decisions about our personal computer behavior."
- An interview with the authors two recent books about Laura Bridgman, one the first well known deaf & blind people. The books are here and here, but the better, quicker read might be this book review in the New York Times. What interests me most is not only her history but the struggle between Unitarian and Calvinist influences in her life.
- Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me!, a game show on which you can win a personalized Carl Kasell answering machine message
- Other shows I'm listening to a lot: Pacific Time, Forum, Fresh Air, Car Talk, Latino USA, The Merrow Report, Living on Earth
Most of these programs stream their current editions and archived shows online as well as offering station listings. So, if you get a little time today, why don't you check one out? Turn off your t.v. and pretend it's the 40's. Tune in your radio or computer and forget about the world close at hand. Sit back and relax. Rest those weary eyes and listen.
Friday, July 27, 2001
San Francisco is billowy full of gusting wind. Pine needles swirl at my feet while I write. The Juana Briones Y Tapia De Miranda monument, my solid seat here in Washington Square, rests immovable. Elderly Asian couples who would strike Tai Chi poses on warmer days are walking the Park's concrete path, ambling healthily into longevity. The valet at Moose's Cafe and Bar bites his nails at his outpost across the street. Since they banned cell phones in the dining room last year, I'm betting he's heard plenty of juicy conversations from callers huddled against the wind out front. I am perfectly happy, except for the slight pain from my incessant typing.
That reminds me, if you work long hours in the servitude of computers like I do, you should check out Break Reminder. It tells you to take "micro-pauses" ever five minutes and a longer "rest-break" every few hours. Until you can type by thought alone, it might come in handy -- or drive you nuts.
As my ear-tops grow cold, I'm reminded of how I burnt them last weekend in just under a few hours outdoors. As part of a sailing club I've joined, I'm required to put in a few hours of work every quarter year. This quarter, I had the opportunity to patch a fiberglass dinghy. After cutting strips of fiberglass to size, you saturate them with a globby resin. Once you've cleaned the surface to be patched with pure acetone, you rub some resin there and put the strips in place. After an hour or two, they dry and, voila! Fixed boat! Pretty cool.
Alas, I should run. I'm meeting P. for cocktails in North Beach and my nose is getting cold. I'm coveting the yellow Ducati motorcycle parked nearby and I'm beginning to remember what it was like to write essays in the dead winter at my unheated Ann Arbor co-op once upon a time. Even Frank Sinatra Christmas songs couldn't keep me warm.
C'est tout, pour maintenant.
Thursday, July 26, 2001
It is cool outside, but not chilly. This is the graceful weather which has eased the drama of our Californian power crisis. It is the reason I can wear my hooded black Champion zip-up sweatshirt day after day. No jackets for me. (Cotton is the fabric of our lives.)
Seeking the fresh air I breathe little of most days, I recently went outside to hunt-and-peck for outlets. AC, the laptop, and me. I would compose and enjoy the crispness of the evening. However, it was not to be. Instead, I found my neighbor C., smoking and brooding perhaps.
C., whose real name I can't really remember, lives upstairs with his partner J. After ruining my night vision with a flashlight, I didn't recognize him at first. As he came into focus, I strolled down the drive and exchanged the brief pleasantries you do with people you're not certain feel like talking. His tone was sincere when he asked, "How are things?". I decided to stay a moment.
Sighing, I complained about working late and bemoaned upcoming layoffs at my company. C. talked about having to recover a million dollars from debtors as part of his work in the collections department of some company or other. I showed appropriate awe and said something about doing the best one can do. We held that thought together for a minute. Kicked it around a bit.
C. continued smoking. Couples passed us on the sidewalk. I wondered if the neighbors ever mind that people often take a seat on the little brick wall separating my home from theirs. My night vision returned, and C. suddenly said that he hadn't heard me playing fiddle for a while. I paused. (Was this realization a relief?) He missed it, he said. He likes it when I play. The relief was all mine.
We chatted some more about this and that, then I went inside.
Closing the door, I was struck by the fact that we don't really chat much, us city dwellers. You don't much see white middle class adults sitting on their porches and just shooting the breeze here in the Bay Area. The taboo factor is too high. (Why don't you just mind your own business already? Why are you talking to me? Do I know you?) Or, maybe, more like me, people spend the majority of their time at home talking to and doing things for people who are relatively far away.
I don't know. Just thinkin'.
Time to go to bed. G'night.
/mike
"She's got my number she always did
She can always see where my secret's hid
Everything about me is hers to tell
She's got my number she always will"
- lyrics from "She's got my number" by Semisonic (which is stuck in my head tonight).
Monday, June 25, 2001
Though I have no doubts that my 1 a.m. bedtime left me less alert than I could be, rolling out of bed at 7 a.m. turned out to be the best decision I've made in a while: Traffic was lighter, my carpool driver wasnt' a cursed KKSF listener, and I actually arrived at work before 9:45 (a disgrace, considering I used to show up at 8:30 a.m. every day).
The weekend brought plenty of good times with N. and both of our first-but-not-last visits to the excellent Gordon Parks retrospective, Half Past Autumn. Afterwards, we were lucky enough to see Mr. Parks interviewed by Delroy Lindo. Though Parks told stories I'd read in his writing numerous times, it was great to hear him tell them in person. His disarming demeanor and charm brought the entire audience to their feet twice and sent rollicking laughter all around. If you get a chance, get over to the Oakland Museum of California. If you're around the Bay, I'll even take you and give you the inside story on the photos and Parks' work. (I'm a community exhibit guide for the exhibition.)
In other news, suddenly I have a coffee table! A trip to IKEA conviced me to part with a hundred bucks for a nice rectangle of white birch with steel screw-in legs. None of this would be remarkable were it not for the fact that it took me two years to get around to making the purchase. Furthermore, in the time between then and now, I ceaselessly complained about not having enough money to make the purchase while simutaneously buying two $700 digital cameras, one brand new laptop, and a rocking-but-pricey stereo system. Just goes to show, some things are all in your head.
Other stuff that's going on: I'm prepping my digital photo archives for posting online, am building a page about photographers I like and those I'd like to learn about, and will soon add a page about the Oakland Museum to my Oakland section. Hopefully this will be accompanied by a bunch of updates to this page. That starts today.
Later for now.
/mike
Friday, June 22, 2001
While I have a million theories about why I stop writing from time to time, none of them have to do with burnout and none of them explain why I come back to it time and time again. Gotta figure that out. Today, my inspiration is Justin Hall. Justin is the person that inspired me to start an online journal and continues to earn my admiration for his dedication, openness, and flair. More importantly, whenever I look at his site, I'm reminded about what it is in the current wave of weblogs that leaves me cold: too much linking out to the world, too little linking to one's own site; too much commentary on what other people are doing and too few comments on what we're doing. I'm not out to change anyone else's site. I'm only hoping change my own. Soon.
Tuesday, June 12, 2001
From Mark Morford replies to letters in today's SF GATE MORNING FIX, my very favorite bit of news-related blabbering:
To Kelly: You are terribly sweet, you are incredibly kind, but you must this minute stop with the
*heart*, *grin*, *goon*, *high-five*, and *melt* emoti-blurbs in your emails. Seriously. Only your
friends will tell you.
Wednesday, June 6, 2001
My friend, Nattika, went to visit her mom in Bangkok recently. Want to see a slice of her trip, someplace new and interesting? Check it out.
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