Nike tells me that I’ve completed 40 runs for a total of 100 miles (and they even offered me the opportunity to print out an achievement certificate to “prove” it). I’m not sure that this particular accomplishment is super-impressive (average 2.5 miles per run, eh) but I guess its certainly better than nothing. Maybe my goal should be to get to my next 100 miles in hmm, say, 30 runs. And then the next 100 in 20? Its just a lot harder to keep motivated on this little quest at this particular time in my life/the season/etc. Maybe I really should post the certificate on my wall. 🙂

Having a big Berkman project kick me in the ass all day every day (pardon the language). Taking night-time walks around Harvard Square to take advantage of the beautiful weather (and take a break from aforementioned project). Finishing _The Neverending Story_ (no joke), letting the New Yorkers pile up. Neglecting my running. Getting stuff done around the house. Looking forward to some theater. Trying not to go crazy, but it’s tough.

I dreamt that I was at a large IOCA event and was burying all of the board games around the hill/stairs to the site and covering them with snow. This after spending a very long time trying to create a xylophone with magnets (because the one that the band was using, from a Costa Rican tourist shop, was terrible) and failing. Next everyone sat on the steps for a Berkman conference. I came up with a fully formed and cogent argument for why Facebook is an evil spammer, and was arguing loudly with Yoni about it when I got in trouble for disrupting the introduction of the newest Berkman fellow, an old woman from Africa who was frail and could not speak English. A couple other things happened and then I woke up. My thoughts on Facebook didn’t entirely make sense, so I won’t repeat them here, but I mentioned Eben Moglen’s “stuff about ownership of data” several times.

So that was weird.

Traveling for 18 hours over pot-holed roads in the rain, on delayed flights to DFW, and finally home in California. Healing from mosquito bites. Slogging through 444 work emails. Finishing Harry Potter #4, which was going pretty slowly but ended with intensity. Catching up on comics. Fixing commenting on this here blog.

I’d like to solicit some help on what to do while in Costa Rica. I’m woefully ignorant of the country and region, although I hope that will change once I get there. We’ll be arriving in the city of Liberia in the province of Guanacaste on the 15th, and leaving from San José eight days later. For the first half of our trip we’ll be staying at the Villa Sol hotel, which offers its own tours and such, and I’m not sure where we’re going for the second half, but I think it is someplace less “all-inclusive.” I tend to favor cultural explorations (but not museums) and fun outdoorsy stuff, my family generally favors more laid back excursions. The hotel has kayaks, so that’s definitely going to happen.

Other then that, I have no idea what we should be doing. I’ve been told there is white water rafting, canopy tours, zip lining, hiking, rain forest explorations, volcanoes…sounds awesome. Since apparently everyone I’ve known has been to CR at some point or another, input welcomed and appreciated.

Making latkes with my new food processor, and serving them with homemade apple sauce, cause I rock as a host. Buying a “shell” (i.e. waterproof pants) at EMS. Seeing Bat Boy at Emerson with Shaina (one of us liked it). Watching Scrubs on Hulu (neat!). Preparing to wake up early and hike the Whites. Going to sleep in order to accomplish previous.

Winter is upon us for real, now that the first snow is on the ground. I find I follow a fairly predictable pattern in winter. At least for me, the darkness, cold, and dreary weather exacerbates latent depression. I’ve been unhappy lately, and in such times I find that it is important, although sometimes difficult, to just step back and think logically about what is making you unhappy and what you can do to fix it.

Today was a really good day. Not for any specific reason, it was just good. I got up early, I opened my window shade, I did some cleaning, I emailed and IMed a few people I haven’t talked to lately, I got a neat present from home, I did some design work and came up with something I’m fairly proud of, I went for a run for the first time in weather below freezing, and actually did pretty well. I listened to a lot of Springsteen. I had barbecue with Igor and Kevin. I played Rock Band with them plus Kelli, and found out that drumming is awesome.

We often drift into patterns, and do things simply because they’re what we have been doing, and don’t do thinks simply because there is so much inertia holding us in place. Sometimes you can break the pattern with something simple and small and find everything else shifts because of it. This was one of those days, and it reminds me that I don’t have to be unhappy if I don’t want to be.

The SNL Weekend Update iPhone sketch from January is oddly hilarious if you’ve ever seen Steve Jobs perform, and the bit about Starbucks was prescient.

My bicycle collision last week resulted in irreparable damage to my bike, and as a consequence I have been reading up a bit on what makes a good commuter bike as well as the situation with safe cycling in Cambridge. I’ve discovered a couple things.

First, commuter bikes don’t seem to be easily available in the US. I’m talking a hybrid-type bike with fenders, a rear rack, chain guard, perhaps some sort of lights, and no fancy shocks or handlebars. They are available, but not everywhere, and not cheap. That said, there are several local bike shops around me that might have some good choices. I’ll have to do some shopping.

Second, despite its very good reputation on this count, Cambridge has made many mistakes with regard to cycling safety, and still has a long way to go before cyclists can really feel safe on Cambridge roads. A good list of local bike safety faults is maintained by cycling expert John Allen. I’ve noticed a few of these as I’ve ridden, but I’ve had just as much trouble just in terms of figuring out where it is safe to ride (not to mention my incredibly bad direction-finding ability), so those things combined have substantially reduced the scope of my cycling. I think I need to find a partner if I want to keep up this hobby.

The _Wall Street Journal_ follows the rise and fall of Wal-Mart. Until recently flying high with super centers and brand uniformity, the retail giant has begun losing sales and prestige as more affluent and conscientious customers decide convenience (location), selection (online), value added services, and niche brands are more valuable than the type of consumerism Wal-Mart peddles. A fascinating read from October 3rd, newly liberated from the WSJ paywall. *Edit:* Damnit, they only let you see the whole thing if you go through a complicated process. Instead I have reproduced the article below.

Continue reading “WSJ on the rise and fall of Wal-Mart, erstwhile retail giant”

This morning was a perfectly good morning. So at least there was that.

At work, arriving back from a brief vacation, I found many, many things needed doing, which is to be expected. Later I discovered offhand that a decision was made without my consultation to make a major and dramatic change of direction on a project on which I have invested quite a bit of effort. So that was nice. Ah, deadlines.

On my bike ride home from work, my first since the change in daylight time that makes things far darker far earlier, I was riding quickly when a car ahead of me saw what I assume was an open parking space and abruptly turned on his signal and pulled into it. I, who was rapidly approaching on the right, crashed into said vehicle, breaking off his passenger-side mirror, damaging my front wheel, and throwing me over the bike and into the curb.

The driver was extremely concerned with my well-being, as were two concerned citizens who witnessed the accident. I declined the driver’s offer of transportation to a hospital but did get everyone’s info (at their very good suggestion) and accepted a car ride the rest of the way home.

My pants were ripped and bloody and I had abrasions on my left hand and wrist and my right elbow, as well as a contusion on my right thigh. As the day progressed I discovered neck and jaw pain.

Despite this, and after disinfecting and bandaging myself up, I went through with pre-arranged plans for some video gaming over in Lincoln, and while I found the destruction of aliens particularly unsatisfying today, I did enjoy the company of others and stayed, against my better judgement, until everyone headed out at about 4:00am.

On the road, contemplating the route we were taking, the events of the day, the pains I was experiencing, and the extreme lateness, I accidentally drifted slightly onto the highway shoulder, encountering the New England paving feature roughly analogous to Botts’ Dots. The sound and vibration of the experience, rather than jarring me awake (as I was already fully awake), intrigued me. I a second time drifted slightly and deliberately onto the shoulder for a brief span. Satisfied with my “investigation” and seeing that the shoulder was narrowing ahead, I reset my route and continued driving.

So yeah, I got pulled over for that. The officer seemed convinced that I was neither drunk nor disorderly and let me on my way, but indicated that a $100 fine would be forthcoming. So I have that to look forward to, on top of everything else.

Now it is 4:45am, I’m home, I’m tired, and I’ve finished with this happy little explanation of my happy little day. Igor comforted me with a Russian saying, roughly translated as “the morning is wiser than the evening.” Morning is quickly approaching, but for our purposes let’s call it evening and maybe if I’m lucky I’ll get a solid 8 hours, and perhaps this day will be better than the last.

*Update (11/17):* Modified paragraph 2 to reflect additional sleep and common sense.

Yes, I know what The Office is, but I avoided it because it was a British transplant and it was all about the awkward office interactions, and I can’t stand that, and it was getting cancelled anyway, until it apparently didn’t.

Saw two episodes, by happenstance, in the past two days. (Um, thanks Hulu beta?) Loving it. And it’s the first show I’m picking up in a while for which watching it out of order doesn’t feel like a cardinal sin.

Plus, dropping Bionic Woman frees up a spot. 🙂

I am so antsy about the upcoming Mac OS X release. I’ve been awaiting it for several months now and using it as an excuse to not gut and reinstall my computer, but now the instability and unreliability is unbearable, and Leopard comes out this Friday.

In other news, I’m kicking myself because this weekend I decided to clear out my stocks from TD Ameritrade and consolidate the money in Bank of America, which meant putting in orders to sell all my stocks there this morning at opening of market. And then Apple went up $4. And then after hours they announced record earnings and went up another $11. Apparently I should have read the news about the next day’s earnings report. Damn. That would have been enough to buy a couple copies of Leopard. Or a few nice meals.

To the Editor:
This week another Editor in Chief of the Justice published another editorial justifying that paper’s decision to publish yet more potentially damaging information about students. It is perhaps telling that the Justice feels the need, every year or so, to passionately defend these decisions.

Arrests, controversial events, and statements made in anger are often newsworthy. And in a small, tight-knit community like Brandeis, people generally know the names of the people behind the headlines. But it is wrong for one student to decide that one bad decision or mistake by another should haunt that person for the rest of their life.

The first editorial ever published in the Hoot said it best: “We shall not be intimidated by controversy, but neither shall we sink to the level of merely titillating our readership; our mission is to inform, to bring meaningful content into readers’ lives. We are here for our readers, not for our resumes.”

I am proud to look upon a community newspaper that has flourished since I helped to found it in 2005. I am disappointed, but not surprised, to see that while the Hoot has stayed true to its mission, so has the Justice stayed true to its painful and counterproductive goal of putting notions of “journalistic integrity” ahead of the community it serves.

Daniel Silverman ’05
Founding Editor, The Brandeis Hoot

I’m loving: Chuck, Pushing Daisies
I’m liking: Journeyman
Pretty disappointed with: Reaper, Bionic Woman
So over: Life, Kid Nation
Might take a look at: Dirty Sexy Money

When it comes to Cambridge city politics, I’m just your average uninformed citizen. I’m new to the area and just not incredibly interested in the local political scene. And so I’m the sort of person that people like me decry in national elections for making bad choices based solely on misleading campaign ads and biased press coverage.

But sometimes things hit a little too close to home, and you find yourself becoming That Guy.

There have been reports in recent months of increased crime in the seedier part of North Cambridge near Alewife station. Armed robberies, assault, even gun shots. And then two weeks ago at around midnight we heard five shots across the tracks at the Peabody School. A couple minutes later police cars were combing the area, zooming back and forth on Pemberton St., just 500 feet from the kitchen window.

When there are gunshots in your neighborhood, when violence and crime is increasing, you want immediate and decisive action. You start to ask questions like, would more CCTV cameras around Alewife cut down on crime there? Do we need more police patrols? How about random ID checks? Stricter gun control laws? Some sort of a buffer zone around the school? A curfew?

I’m not really wondering those things, not seriously. Well, except perhaps the first one. But if things got worse, don’t you think people would? Wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you demand action? Some sort of change? When people feel powerless to control their own fates, they need something, even if it is a placebo, in which they can take comfort and feel safe. Some sort of action must be taken, some concrete step, some forward momentum. If we’re lucky, the action chosen might even make things better.

In my little laughably partisan local newspaper today is an ad by one Gregg Moree, candidate for Cambridge City Council. He writes that:

Most of us are tired of meetings and excuses. On the City Council, I will demand action. We need more police patrols and more police cooperation with the residents to solve crimes and enforce the law.

I don’t know anything about Gregg, except that he has a three-“g” first name. I don’t know anything about his opponents or about the current councilor. I don’t know what steps have been taken to prevent and contain street crime, and I don’t know what steps are in the works. All I know is that Gregg, who lives down the street, who has a picture in the paper with him standing in the underpass I walked through yesterday, the underpass by the gun fire, says he will take this issue seriously and he will make change.

We always have imperfect information. My choice at the poll next month is between Gregg and anyone else. I don’t know anything about anyone except that Gregg says he’s going to do something about the street crime. So really, armed with that information, why wouldn’t I vote for Gregg?

Wouldn’t it make sense for Bank of America to alert you *before* it attempts to pay a big e-bill that you don’t have sufficient funds to cover it? Oh wait, no, it makes more sense to try and pay it anyway, and then ding you with a $20 fee. My mistake, clearly I misunderstand customer service.

I had a dream I met a girl in a dying world. It was an amazing place. Good and evil, light and dark, a place where you could solve riddles and magic would result, where you could defeat the evil with cunning and skill, a carnival world that strayed to the edge of madness, teetered there at the abyss, but then pulled back. Surrounded by friends, I soldiered on in a great quest, but a tiny one, discovered a deep truth, but not one that tore the world apart. There was dénouement and catharsis, everyone lived, hugs all around. We promised to write, we broke apart, and with that I was pulled out, the sun called to me, and I awoke.

It was perfect. But quickly, nearly instantly, the memory of the thing faded to mere fancy. Still, a URL burned in my mind. I won’t say what it was, it’s too embarrassing. A URL and a beautiful but indistinct face, a blog that I was to “check out and comment on.” What else could I do? I typed it into my web browser, in some desperate hope that I would find some connection to that nether world, that somehow the strange facts of the night could actually exist in this world.

It turns out wanting something doesn’t make it real.

The above is true, but with apologies to Randall Munroe. (See also.)