Photos (and some short videos) are now online.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
A (very brief) history of the Czech Republic
This story begins not with a conquest or a hero, but with a mass migration. Between 500 and 900 CE, after the Western Roman empire had collapsed, there were several great migrations -- the Huns moved from Asia into Europe; in Germany, the Franks moved to France, the Lombards went to Italy, while the Angles and Saxons moved to England; the Hungarians came out from Western Russia; the Turks spread across Central Asia; the Slavs came out from modern-day Ukraine; and the Vikings went practically everywhere.
Many of these cultures, such as the Huns, were little more than raiding parties, disrupting life and then disappearing -- or being absorbed -- as quickly as they came. The Slavs, by comparison, were relatively peaceful, often moving into land abandoned by people fleeing the Huns! They had their own culture and language, but not a written alphabet, and so little is known about them before the 6th century. They spread out to cover all of central and eastern Europe, including Russia, the Balklans, and parts of central Asia. Today there are more than 400 million Slavs.
In the 9th century, they started forming their own city-states, including Greater Moravia, which was a vassal state to Charlemagne's Holy Roman Empire. They adopted Christianity and monks Cyril and Methodius adapted the Greek alphabet to the Slav language, creating the Cyrillic script which is now the basis for all Eastern European languages.
Not long after, Moravia was overrun by Hungary, but Bohemia rose in its place. (One of the dukes of Bohemia was immortalized in the song "Good King Wenceslas" even though he wasn't a king, and the song had no relation to his life whatsoever.) Things continued quietly until 1346, when Charles IV of Bohemia was elected Holy Roman Emperor, and he made Prague the capital of the empire.
He founded Charles University, the 11th oldest university outside of Italy. He also founded New Town (Nové Město), rebuilt Prague Castle, began construction of St. Vitus' Cathedral, and established a new bridge (now called Charles Bridge). Charles' reign was the "golden age" of Prague, even though many of the building projects he begun were not completed until the 19th century!
Unfortunately for his son, in 1415 Czech priest Jon Hus was burned at the stake for protesting against the doctrines of the Catholic Church. This was over 100 years before Martin Luther nailed his Ninety-Five Theses on the door of All Saints' Church, sparking the Reformation. The Hussites, as his followers were called, began a 200-year war with the Catholics, each one throwing the other out of the country (and occasionally out of windows), and then being thrown out in turn. The Catholics finally won in 1620, evicting all Protestants from the country.
Bohemia was still a vassal state, first to the Holy Roman Empire, then to its successor, the Austrio-Hungarian empire. After World War One, Czechs and neighboring Slovaks joined forces to become a single, independent nation for the first time in its thousand year history. Unfortunately, that only lasted 20 years.
During the Hussite wars, the Holy Roman Emperors had invited Catholic Germans to settle in the Bohemian and Moravian border regions, which now constituted nearly 20% of the Czech population. In 1938, Adolf Hitler demanded these areas ("Sudetenland"), be re-united with Germany and all Czech residents expelled. Hoping to appease Hitler, Italy, France, and Britain signed the Munich Agreement, and British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain famously announced, "There will be peace for our time." A year later, Hitler took the rest of Bohemia and Moravia, while Hungary took Slovakia.
After World War II, in 1945, Czechoslovakia became an independent state again but, disillusioned with the West and allied with the Soviets (who had told the American troops to wait for two days so the Soviets could be seen as the liberators), the Communist party was elected to power, and one of its first acts was to expel all Germans and confiscate their land. Three years later, in a coup d'etat, the government suspended elections, creating a dictatorship.
In the early 1960s, the Czechoslovak economy stagnated. The industrial growth rate was the lowest in Eastern Europe and, in 1965, the party introduced free market elements into the economy. The first secretary carried the reform movement a step further, lifting censorship and setting guidelines for a modern democracy that would guarantee freedom of religion, press, assembly, speech, and travel. That was too much for the Soviets, and on the night of August 20, 1968, the first secretary was arrested and Soviet troops invaded Czechoslovakia, driving tanks down Wenceslas Square. The bullet holes in the National Museum are still visible. The government was forced to sign an agreement allowing Soviet troops to remain, and all reforms were repealed.
A few months later, student Jan Palach set himself on fire in Wenceslas Square in protest.
In 1988, Mikhail Gorbachev was advocating "Perestroika," which in many ways resembled the free market reforms of Czechoslovakia's 1965 plan. Perhaps as a result, Czech leaders were reluctant to implement the changes, leading to widespread, but peaceful, protests. On 17 November 1989, the police violently broke up a peaceful demonstration, brutally beating many students. Faced with an overwhelming popular repudiation, the Communist Party collapsed, its leaders resigned, and playwright Václav Havel, who had spent many years alternating between denouncing Communism and being in prison, became the new president. The "velvet revolution" was over in less than six weeks, without a shot being fired.
(Although Václav Havel was not a great politician, he was greatly loved for his steadfast opposition to communism. When he passed away last week, he was given a state funeral, and in several of my photos you can see the candles placed all over the city by his loyal followers, especially on Wenceslas Square.)
Unfortunately, the past 40 years of Communist rule had heightened ethnic tensions between the Czechs and Slovaks, and on January 1, 1993, Czechoslovakia was dissolved and the Czech Republic and Slovakia were founded. It has become known as the "velvet divorce."
Over the past 20 years, the Czech economy has done quite well, with a GDP per capita of 80% of the European Union average. It is one of the most stable and prosperous of the post-Communist states, and was the first former member of the Soviet States to achieve the status of "developed country." (Russia is still considered a "developing country.") The country has the highest human development index in Central and Eastern Europe, ranking #27. (The UK is #28.) The Czech Republic as a whole generally has a low crime rate, is ranked as the third most peaceful country in Europe, and is the most democratic. Prague airport is the busiest airport in Central and Eastern Europe. They have completely opened their borders and in 2007 joined the World Trade Organisation. They have yet to adopt the Euro, but may do so in 2013.
The 2011 population is 10.5 million and is one of the least religious populations on the planet, with 70% identifying as atheist, less than 10% as Catholic, and 2.5% as Protestant. In 1930, there were 118,000 Jews in the Czech Republic. In 1945, there were approximately 4,000. The number has not increased appreciably in the past 65 years.
Czech has a rich tradition in music (including Antonín Dvořák), literature (including Franz Kafka), and theatre (especially marionettes). Gregor Mendel, the father of genetics, was a Czech friar, and Czech scientists created contact lenses and the plastic explosive Semtex, popular with terrorist groups. A Czech author gave us the word "robot" from the Old Church Slavonic rabota, meaning "servitude."
The Czech Republic has the highest beer consumption per capita in the world. In 1840, a pale lager was developed in the Bohemian city of Plzeň, although in the States it is more popularly known by the nearby town of Budweis, or Budweiser Bier.
(Special thanks to Wikipedia, which is always a source of way too much information. It took me nearly six hours to distill the history of the Slavs, the Roman empire, the Eastern Orthodox church, the Holy Roman Empire, the Austrian and Austria-Hungary Empire, the Nazis, and the Communists into this "brief" history. I did learn, however, that the "Rus" in Russia refers to Vikings who helped liberate the Eastern Slavs from the Khazars, a group of Turks who had converted to Judaism!)
Many of these cultures, such as the Huns, were little more than raiding parties, disrupting life and then disappearing -- or being absorbed -- as quickly as they came. The Slavs, by comparison, were relatively peaceful, often moving into land abandoned by people fleeing the Huns! They had their own culture and language, but not a written alphabet, and so little is known about them before the 6th century. They spread out to cover all of central and eastern Europe, including Russia, the Balklans, and parts of central Asia. Today there are more than 400 million Slavs.
In the 9th century, they started forming their own city-states, including Greater Moravia, which was a vassal state to Charlemagne's Holy Roman Empire. They adopted Christianity and monks Cyril and Methodius adapted the Greek alphabet to the Slav language, creating the Cyrillic script which is now the basis for all Eastern European languages.
Not long after, Moravia was overrun by Hungary, but Bohemia rose in its place. (One of the dukes of Bohemia was immortalized in the song "Good King Wenceslas" even though he wasn't a king, and the song had no relation to his life whatsoever.) Things continued quietly until 1346, when Charles IV of Bohemia was elected Holy Roman Emperor, and he made Prague the capital of the empire.
He founded Charles University, the 11th oldest university outside of Italy. He also founded New Town (Nové Město), rebuilt Prague Castle, began construction of St. Vitus' Cathedral, and established a new bridge (now called Charles Bridge). Charles' reign was the "golden age" of Prague, even though many of the building projects he begun were not completed until the 19th century!
Unfortunately for his son, in 1415 Czech priest Jon Hus was burned at the stake for protesting against the doctrines of the Catholic Church. This was over 100 years before Martin Luther nailed his Ninety-Five Theses on the door of All Saints' Church, sparking the Reformation. The Hussites, as his followers were called, began a 200-year war with the Catholics, each one throwing the other out of the country (and occasionally out of windows), and then being thrown out in turn. The Catholics finally won in 1620, evicting all Protestants from the country.
Bohemia was still a vassal state, first to the Holy Roman Empire, then to its successor, the Austrio-Hungarian empire. After World War One, Czechs and neighboring Slovaks joined forces to become a single, independent nation for the first time in its thousand year history. Unfortunately, that only lasted 20 years.
During the Hussite wars, the Holy Roman Emperors had invited Catholic Germans to settle in the Bohemian and Moravian border regions, which now constituted nearly 20% of the Czech population. In 1938, Adolf Hitler demanded these areas ("Sudetenland"), be re-united with Germany and all Czech residents expelled. Hoping to appease Hitler, Italy, France, and Britain signed the Munich Agreement, and British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain famously announced, "There will be peace for our time." A year later, Hitler took the rest of Bohemia and Moravia, while Hungary took Slovakia.
After World War II, in 1945, Czechoslovakia became an independent state again but, disillusioned with the West and allied with the Soviets (who had told the American troops to wait for two days so the Soviets could be seen as the liberators), the Communist party was elected to power, and one of its first acts was to expel all Germans and confiscate their land. Three years later, in a coup d'etat, the government suspended elections, creating a dictatorship.
In the early 1960s, the Czechoslovak economy stagnated. The industrial growth rate was the lowest in Eastern Europe and, in 1965, the party introduced free market elements into the economy. The first secretary carried the reform movement a step further, lifting censorship and setting guidelines for a modern democracy that would guarantee freedom of religion, press, assembly, speech, and travel. That was too much for the Soviets, and on the night of August 20, 1968, the first secretary was arrested and Soviet troops invaded Czechoslovakia, driving tanks down Wenceslas Square. The bullet holes in the National Museum are still visible. The government was forced to sign an agreement allowing Soviet troops to remain, and all reforms were repealed.
A few months later, student Jan Palach set himself on fire in Wenceslas Square in protest.
In 1988, Mikhail Gorbachev was advocating "Perestroika," which in many ways resembled the free market reforms of Czechoslovakia's 1965 plan. Perhaps as a result, Czech leaders were reluctant to implement the changes, leading to widespread, but peaceful, protests. On 17 November 1989, the police violently broke up a peaceful demonstration, brutally beating many students. Faced with an overwhelming popular repudiation, the Communist Party collapsed, its leaders resigned, and playwright Václav Havel, who had spent many years alternating between denouncing Communism and being in prison, became the new president. The "velvet revolution" was over in less than six weeks, without a shot being fired.
(Although Václav Havel was not a great politician, he was greatly loved for his steadfast opposition to communism. When he passed away last week, he was given a state funeral, and in several of my photos you can see the candles placed all over the city by his loyal followers, especially on Wenceslas Square.)
Unfortunately, the past 40 years of Communist rule had heightened ethnic tensions between the Czechs and Slovaks, and on January 1, 1993, Czechoslovakia was dissolved and the Czech Republic and Slovakia were founded. It has become known as the "velvet divorce."
Over the past 20 years, the Czech economy has done quite well, with a GDP per capita of 80% of the European Union average. It is one of the most stable and prosperous of the post-Communist states, and was the first former member of the Soviet States to achieve the status of "developed country." (Russia is still considered a "developing country.") The country has the highest human development index in Central and Eastern Europe, ranking #27. (The UK is #28.) The Czech Republic as a whole generally has a low crime rate, is ranked as the third most peaceful country in Europe, and is the most democratic. Prague airport is the busiest airport in Central and Eastern Europe. They have completely opened their borders and in 2007 joined the World Trade Organisation. They have yet to adopt the Euro, but may do so in 2013.
The 2011 population is 10.5 million and is one of the least religious populations on the planet, with 70% identifying as atheist, less than 10% as Catholic, and 2.5% as Protestant. In 1930, there were 118,000 Jews in the Czech Republic. In 1945, there were approximately 4,000. The number has not increased appreciably in the past 65 years.
Czech has a rich tradition in music (including Antonín Dvořák), literature (including Franz Kafka), and theatre (especially marionettes). Gregor Mendel, the father of genetics, was a Czech friar, and Czech scientists created contact lenses and the plastic explosive Semtex, popular with terrorist groups. A Czech author gave us the word "robot" from the Old Church Slavonic rabota, meaning "servitude."
The Czech Republic has the highest beer consumption per capita in the world. In 1840, a pale lager was developed in the Bohemian city of Plzeň, although in the States it is more popularly known by the nearby town of Budweis, or Budweiser Bier.
(Special thanks to Wikipedia, which is always a source of way too much information. It took me nearly six hours to distill the history of the Slavs, the Roman empire, the Eastern Orthodox church, the Holy Roman Empire, the Austrian and Austria-Hungary Empire, the Nazis, and the Communists into this "brief" history. I did learn, however, that the "Rus" in Russia refers to Vikings who helped liberate the Eastern Slavs from the Khazars, a group of Turks who had converted to Judaism!)
Thursday, December 29, 2011
A fine walk
So I struck out to find another place, and ended up walking over 4 miles, and an hour and a half, before I finally found someplace -- about 5 minutes from my hotel.
It was now 10:45pm, and most of Prague had shut down, but the sign on the Cafe Louvre proudly said it was open until 11:30pm. A waiter promptly told me they were closed. I pointed to the sign and got a long explanation, the jist of which was that 11:30 was when the waiters went home, so the customers had to leave sooner. I said I just wanted tea and cake and he gruffly pointed to a table and told me to "hurry" (seriously), and then completely ignored me for 10 minutes! Not even a menu.
Finally I got served. 5 minutes later I got the bill. 5 minutes later they started turning off the lights. It was still 20 minutes to closing!!
Needless to say, I was not impressed and I'd say I wouldn't go back, but in fact I'm leaving tomorrow, so I'd say that even if it was wonderful. (And the black forest cake was quite nice.) I do hope I come back--the town has been absolutely enchanting. Truth be told, if I'd realized how beautiful it was, I probably wouldn't have come on my own. (And I certainly would have brought my good camera!!)
But perhaps it is for the best--next time I can impress someone with my knowledge of Prague and the Czech language -- dobrý den, prosim, děkuji, a nemluvím česky. (Hello, please, thank you, and "I don't speak Czech.") I just have to find a better hotel.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Prague
I haven't written, only because there is too much to write about! I want to talk about the castle, Old-New synagogue, Wenceslas Square, Charles Bridge, Hussites, the astronomical clock, St Martins-in-the-wall, Muchas, Terezin, communism, Prague Spring, pilsner beer, and bohemian crystals. and the museum of sex machines. I want to complain about the food, the bell tower directly outside my hotel room, and the fact that the National Museum closed six months ago...for a five-year restoration.
And I'm sure I will say all that, but first I have to recant something I said years ago:
I said people travel primarily just to say they've been somewhere.
At the time, I could not think of any reason people spent so much money and endured all that hassle to go someplace they could learn more about by reading books (or now on the Internet).
But now I realise that travel does more than inform, it forces you to confront your assumptions, cultural bias, experience, and history. It is a prism to re-evaluate your beliefs, and to let go of some stereotypes. It is a bridge to peace.
Growing up in the States, I never imagined I'd ever visit eastern Europe. When the Berlin Wall fell, I was just as surprised as the US President. Coming to Prague, though, was such a revelation. I expected to find grey skies, grey houses, grey food, and grey people, all in a listless shuffle. I didn't expect to find exquisite architecture from the 12th to the 19th century, squares filled with Christmas trees, and warm people who spoke excellent english. I also didn't expect to find a serious graffiti problem.
But more than that, what I didn't expect was to challenge all of my Western norms. But to understand that, I've got to cover the history of Prague...
And I'm sure I will say all that, but first I have to recant something I said years ago:
I said people travel primarily just to say they've been somewhere.
At the time, I could not think of any reason people spent so much money and endured all that hassle to go someplace they could learn more about by reading books (or now on the Internet).
But now I realise that travel does more than inform, it forces you to confront your assumptions, cultural bias, experience, and history. It is a prism to re-evaluate your beliefs, and to let go of some stereotypes. It is a bridge to peace.
Growing up in the States, I never imagined I'd ever visit eastern Europe. When the Berlin Wall fell, I was just as surprised as the US President. Coming to Prague, though, was such a revelation. I expected to find grey skies, grey houses, grey food, and grey people, all in a listless shuffle. I didn't expect to find exquisite architecture from the 12th to the 19th century, squares filled with Christmas trees, and warm people who spoke excellent english. I also didn't expect to find a serious graffiti problem.
But more than that, what I didn't expect was to challenge all of my Western norms. But to understand that, I've got to cover the history of Prague...
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Day one
Day one in Prague, not in my life. I'm not sure if the public transport is free on Christmas eve, or if I've already committed my first criminal act. I should probably find out where the American embassy is. Just in case.
My hotel is a concrete monument to 40 years of Communist rule, now painted pink and green a la Miami Vice. Bare bulbs would be an upgrade, the view is of the building across the street, and the only thing thinner than the mattress is the carpet. For £24/night, I wasn't expecting much, but I love it! Not only does it ooze character, but it also has a massive radiator, free WiFi, Free breakfast, and a private bathroom! (Odd they did not mention that on the web site.) This is much better than my austerity measures planned for.
Also unexpectedly, all of the restaurants have vegetarian options! Unfortunately, it being Christmas eve, most of them are closed, and the few that are open have a set menu that is pretty consistent: Wild boar or hare pate, beef goulash soup, and a fish main.
I had pizza.
Walking around town, though, is magical. It's cold with an intermittent drizzle, but sadly no snow. The streets are mostly deserted, with more people in the touristy area. Someone at Heathrow told me that in Europe, Christmas is Christmas eve, meaning that's when everyone gathers for family meals. I'm hopeful I can find a midnight mass to attend.
And I'm hopeful I can find my way back to the hotel!
My hotel is a concrete monument to 40 years of Communist rule, now painted pink and green a la Miami Vice. Bare bulbs would be an upgrade, the view is of the building across the street, and the only thing thinner than the mattress is the carpet. For £24/night, I wasn't expecting much, but I love it! Not only does it ooze character, but it also has a massive radiator, free WiFi, Free breakfast, and a private bathroom! (Odd they did not mention that on the web site.) This is much better than my austerity measures planned for.
Also unexpectedly, all of the restaurants have vegetarian options! Unfortunately, it being Christmas eve, most of them are closed, and the few that are open have a set menu that is pretty consistent: Wild boar or hare pate, beef goulash soup, and a fish main.
I had pizza.
Walking around town, though, is magical. It's cold with an intermittent drizzle, but sadly no snow. The streets are mostly deserted, with more people in the touristy area. Someone at Heathrow told me that in Europe, Christmas is Christmas eve, meaning that's when everyone gathers for family meals. I'm hopeful I can find a midnight mass to attend.
And I'm hopeful I can find my way back to the hotel!
Friday, December 23, 2011
Prague
I'm off to Prague for Christmas. Why? No reason.
Of course I'd rather be with my family, but the airlines know this and so doubled the cost of flights, making it unaffordable. But while I was despairing at flights across the pond, the British Airways web site showed me I could go anywhere within a 2 hour radius for only 9,000 frequent flier miles (and £27). And the furthest I could go was Prague.
The capital of the Czech Republic (and what was Czechoslovakia before Slovakia became a separate state) came out from the iron curtain in 1989, looking very much like Miss Haversham in her 50-year-old wedding dress. (Dicken's Great Expectations--this being England, I've been pummeled with Dickens over the past two weeks.) What was once the proud capital of a thriving European country had been reduced to a drab and grey little town. However, over the past 20 years the grey has given way to pastel, tourism is thriving, and because it's not part of the European Union yet, everything is dirt cheap.
In addition to the £27 flight, I'm paying £24/night for a 3-star hotel, including breakfast, in the middle of town! The bus from the airport costs 90p, and food won't cost anything because it's eastern European, so all they will serve is meat. I suspect I will be eating eggs every day for a week.
But I can't wait to visit the Jewish Quarter, the castle, the art galleries and museums. I plan to dress warm and walk everywhere, especially along the river. I just hope there is snow.
But what is really interesting is that it will be the first time I've ever traveled by myself. All of my trips have either been with someone, or to see someone, or for work. I'd never taken a gap year, and I've always been in relationships.
In Judaism, there is a blessing for the first time you do something (in your life or in a season), called the Shehechiyanu. It translates to:
It is one of my favorite prayers (right up there with the prayer on seeing a rainbow) because it is a recognition of all the wonderful experiences all around us. I said it for the first time earlier this month, as part of the conversion ritual. I will say it again when I land in Prague, partly because it will be my first visit to the city, partly because as a Reagan child I never thought I'd see Eastern Europe in my lifetime, and partly because it will be my first trip on my own.
But mostly I'll say it because I'll be happy to get off the airplane. Who knows what kind of World War II bucket I'll get for 9,000 frequent flier miles?
Of course I'd rather be with my family, but the airlines know this and so doubled the cost of flights, making it unaffordable. But while I was despairing at flights across the pond, the British Airways web site showed me I could go anywhere within a 2 hour radius for only 9,000 frequent flier miles (and £27). And the furthest I could go was Prague.
The capital of the Czech Republic (and what was Czechoslovakia before Slovakia became a separate state) came out from the iron curtain in 1989, looking very much like Miss Haversham in her 50-year-old wedding dress. (Dicken's Great Expectations--this being England, I've been pummeled with Dickens over the past two weeks.) What was once the proud capital of a thriving European country had been reduced to a drab and grey little town. However, over the past 20 years the grey has given way to pastel, tourism is thriving, and because it's not part of the European Union yet, everything is dirt cheap.
In addition to the £27 flight, I'm paying £24/night for a 3-star hotel, including breakfast, in the middle of town! The bus from the airport costs 90p, and food won't cost anything because it's eastern European, so all they will serve is meat. I suspect I will be eating eggs every day for a week.
But I can't wait to visit the Jewish Quarter, the castle, the art galleries and museums. I plan to dress warm and walk everywhere, especially along the river. I just hope there is snow.
But what is really interesting is that it will be the first time I've ever traveled by myself. All of my trips have either been with someone, or to see someone, or for work. I'd never taken a gap year, and I've always been in relationships.
In Judaism, there is a blessing for the first time you do something (in your life or in a season), called the Shehechiyanu. It translates to:
Blessed are You, Lord, our God, Ruler of the Universe, who has granted us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this occasion.
It is one of my favorite prayers (right up there with the prayer on seeing a rainbow) because it is a recognition of all the wonderful experiences all around us. I said it for the first time earlier this month, as part of the conversion ritual. I will say it again when I land in Prague, partly because it will be my first visit to the city, partly because as a Reagan child I never thought I'd see Eastern Europe in my lifetime, and partly because it will be my first trip on my own.
But mostly I'll say it because I'll be happy to get off the airplane. Who knows what kind of World War II bucket I'll get for 9,000 frequent flier miles?
Music trivia
I've managed to waste about two days on something that should have taken ten minutes, and really shot myself in the foot in the process.
All I wanted to do was backup my music. I hadn't done so in quite some time, and had recently ripped a bunch of CDs. My first thought was just to backup to two DVDs, which would have taken just a few minutes, but there would be no way to sync them. Plus, that was decidedly uncool.
So I started looking at online storage options, such as Google Music, Amazon Cloud, Microsoft Skydrive, and iTunes Match. Online file hosting is certainly not a new idea, but it's always been very slow, clumsy, and expensive. I was hoping these new services would be better.
I needed about 8GB to save all of my songs. Google Music offered 15GB for free, but it immediately told me it wasn't available outside of US. (Obviously it is very annoying when the UK is treated as a second-world country, but at least there is an ocean between the two countries -- I wonder how Canadians feel when they see this message?)
Amazon was a second choice because it only offered 5GB free--I had to pay for the rest--but it assured me their cloud was available in the UK. I signed up but for the life of me I couldn't figure out how to upload files. After 20 minutes, I finally tracked down a help file that told me I had to open the music player to find the "upload button." I downloaded and installed the music player, found the upload button, and when I clicked it was told "This feature is not available outside of the US."
Microsoft Skydrive was my third choice because, although it offered 15GB for free, you can't upload folders! They expect you to put everything into one big folder, which is ridiculous. I did manage to track down a third party tool that let you upload folders and finally got that installed, told it to upload my 8GB, and it told me it would take 3 days and 4 hours. After about 20 minutes, I cancelled it.
Finally, iTunes Match, which offered nothing for free -- it's $25/year in the States and £21 in the UK -- but had two big advantages:
1) If it "matched" your song with one it already had, it didn't need to upload it; it just created a link to it. Thus, it wouldn't take 3 days to upload everything!
2) Once it matched, you could replace the song on your hard drive with the official Apple version.
The second bullet really appealed to me because four years ago, when I ripped most of my CDs, hard drives were considerably smaller and so I saved everything at 56 kbps, whereas Apple used 256kbps. Now, I don't know that the quality makes that much of a difference -- I certainly never noticed anything -- but now I had plenty of space on my hard drive, and this was an easy way to update my songs, so I signed up.
After Apple took my money, of course they told me the version of iTunes I was using was out of date, and I had to update it. Once that was done, it set of to match my music and, of the 3,500 songs I owned, it matched about 150.
Seriously, 150.
Even more disturbing, it had put a little cloud icon with a line through it next to most of my songs, and when I clicked on it, it just said "ineligible." I had no idea what that meant but a little googling uncovered a note that said iTunes would not match music recorded at less than 92kbps! That was the reason I had given Apple £22!
I looked around at programs that would "convert" files to a different bandwidth, but most of them cost around $20. (One of them indicated it was free, let me install it for free, and only when I told it to convert a song did it tell me it would convert HALF the song for free, but if I wanted the whole song I had to pay.) Plus I realised if I did that, I would lose all of my stats and ratings in iTunes. I was not happy.
The solution, ironically, came from iTunes itself. Originally, iTunes sold songs that had "DRM" to prevent copying. When they finally introduced DRM-free music, they added an option to create an MP3 version so you could jailbreak your old songs. Now, all of my songs were already MP3, but iTunes wasn't smart enough to realise this, so it let me create a new MP3 version and, critically, the new one was 128kbps (and kept the stats and ratings). So I told iTunes to create MP3 versions of all my MP3 files, then told it to match the new 128kbps versions, and it matched about 3,000 of my songs.
Then I deleted all 6,000 of those songs (since I had two versions of each) and told Apple to download them again, thus getting the clean 256kbps version. (Fortunately it's a lot faster to download than upload, and only took about six hours.) There are still 400 songs it refuses to match -- and it's very random, with one or two songs on an album, and the rest are fine -- but that's good enough for me.
If this all seems a bit ridiculous to you, it's because it is. Nothing in life should be this difficult, and I realize it's only because I know enough about technology that I can possibly make things this complicated.
But it gets worse. Because of the higher quality, my 8GB of music is now 25 GB. That's not a problem on my hard drive, but when I went to copy the songs to my phone -- which only has 2GB of space -- I could only copy one-third of the music I used to! I completely forgot that on my phone -- and my old mp3 player -- file space is still an issue!!
Unfortunately, there's no easy way to get back to the 56kbps versions, so I'm stuck. But at least I've backed up my music collection, which is really all I set out to do.
All I wanted to do was backup my music. I hadn't done so in quite some time, and had recently ripped a bunch of CDs. My first thought was just to backup to two DVDs, which would have taken just a few minutes, but there would be no way to sync them. Plus, that was decidedly uncool.
So I started looking at online storage options, such as Google Music, Amazon Cloud, Microsoft Skydrive, and iTunes Match. Online file hosting is certainly not a new idea, but it's always been very slow, clumsy, and expensive. I was hoping these new services would be better.
I needed about 8GB to save all of my songs. Google Music offered 15GB for free, but it immediately told me it wasn't available outside of US. (Obviously it is very annoying when the UK is treated as a second-world country, but at least there is an ocean between the two countries -- I wonder how Canadians feel when they see this message?)
Amazon was a second choice because it only offered 5GB free--I had to pay for the rest--but it assured me their cloud was available in the UK. I signed up but for the life of me I couldn't figure out how to upload files. After 20 minutes, I finally tracked down a help file that told me I had to open the music player to find the "upload button." I downloaded and installed the music player, found the upload button, and when I clicked it was told "This feature is not available outside of the US."
Microsoft Skydrive was my third choice because, although it offered 15GB for free, you can't upload folders! They expect you to put everything into one big folder, which is ridiculous. I did manage to track down a third party tool that let you upload folders and finally got that installed, told it to upload my 8GB, and it told me it would take 3 days and 4 hours. After about 20 minutes, I cancelled it.
Finally, iTunes Match, which offered nothing for free -- it's $25/year in the States and £21 in the UK -- but had two big advantages:
1) If it "matched" your song with one it already had, it didn't need to upload it; it just created a link to it. Thus, it wouldn't take 3 days to upload everything!
2) Once it matched, you could replace the song on your hard drive with the official Apple version.
The second bullet really appealed to me because four years ago, when I ripped most of my CDs, hard drives were considerably smaller and so I saved everything at 56 kbps, whereas Apple used 256kbps. Now, I don't know that the quality makes that much of a difference -- I certainly never noticed anything -- but now I had plenty of space on my hard drive, and this was an easy way to update my songs, so I signed up.
After Apple took my money, of course they told me the version of iTunes I was using was out of date, and I had to update it. Once that was done, it set of to match my music and, of the 3,500 songs I owned, it matched about 150.
Seriously, 150.
Even more disturbing, it had put a little cloud icon with a line through it next to most of my songs, and when I clicked on it, it just said "ineligible." I had no idea what that meant but a little googling uncovered a note that said iTunes would not match music recorded at less than 92kbps! That was the reason I had given Apple £22!
I looked around at programs that would "convert" files to a different bandwidth, but most of them cost around $20. (One of them indicated it was free, let me install it for free, and only when I told it to convert a song did it tell me it would convert HALF the song for free, but if I wanted the whole song I had to pay.) Plus I realised if I did that, I would lose all of my stats and ratings in iTunes. I was not happy.
The solution, ironically, came from iTunes itself. Originally, iTunes sold songs that had "DRM" to prevent copying. When they finally introduced DRM-free music, they added an option to create an MP3 version so you could jailbreak your old songs. Now, all of my songs were already MP3, but iTunes wasn't smart enough to realise this, so it let me create a new MP3 version and, critically, the new one was 128kbps (and kept the stats and ratings). So I told iTunes to create MP3 versions of all my MP3 files, then told it to match the new 128kbps versions, and it matched about 3,000 of my songs.
Then I deleted all 6,000 of those songs (since I had two versions of each) and told Apple to download them again, thus getting the clean 256kbps version. (Fortunately it's a lot faster to download than upload, and only took about six hours.) There are still 400 songs it refuses to match -- and it's very random, with one or two songs on an album, and the rest are fine -- but that's good enough for me.
If this all seems a bit ridiculous to you, it's because it is. Nothing in life should be this difficult, and I realize it's only because I know enough about technology that I can possibly make things this complicated.
But it gets worse. Because of the higher quality, my 8GB of music is now 25 GB. That's not a problem on my hard drive, but when I went to copy the songs to my phone -- which only has 2GB of space -- I could only copy one-third of the music I used to! I completely forgot that on my phone -- and my old mp3 player -- file space is still an issue!!
Unfortunately, there's no easy way to get back to the 56kbps versions, so I'm stuck. But at least I've backed up my music collection, which is really all I set out to do.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Cape Town
I can describe Cape Town in two words: Los Angeles.
The beach, the mountains, the coast, the smell, the sun, the fauna: palm trees, jacarandas, agapanthus, bougainvillaeas, all reminded me of LA.
Also the urban sprawl, the traffic, the shopping malls, and the crushing poverty confined to a few small areas.
Of course, Los Angeles doesn't get gale force winds, or have one of the highest murder rates in the world. But then again, Los Angeles doesn't rank on the Mercer list of 'most livable cities in the world.' (Cape Town is 86.)
Which, I guess, is kind of the point: Cape Town is a study in contrasts. But I wasn't there to judge its economy, its social equality, or its political leadership. I was just there on holiday, and it was spectacular.
First, I need to dispel two myths: 1) Cape Town is not at Cape Point, and Cape Point is not the southernmost point of Africa. And 2) Water does not drain counter-clockwise south of the equator.
Table Mountain looms over the Cape; on the north side is the sea, with a tiny sliver of apartments in between. (I thought the sea was south until I saw the sun setting in the east.) South of Cape Town is the Cape peninsula -- which on a map resembles Baja California. All along are dotted small beaches, each with their own characteristics: Some are protected from the wind; some are sandy, others rocky; some are cold water (from the Atlantic current) while others have warm water (from the Indian ocean). The warm water beaches have sharks, with several attacks each year.
On the other side of the mountain, Cape Town sprawls out over 948 sq mi (about half the size of Los Angeles), with a population of 3.5 million. A few "shanty towns" speak to the poverty of the area--large areas of corrugated metal huts, connected to the electric grid. It is also where most of the crime is; the tourist areas are fairly safe.
The top of the mountain (reached by cable car) offers spectacular views of the ocean and the city. I'm sorry I didn't get to see the sunset from the mountain, but the fickle weather turned, clouds formed and poured into the gorges like waterfalls, the wind started to blow, and I got down as quickly as I could. The wind howled all through the night, but the next morning was clear and calm again.
Along "false bay" is Boulders beach, notable for a flock of African penguins (formerly known as "jackass" penguins because of their mating call). However, November is moulting season, and since they aren't waterproof, they stay out of the water. (Which means they don't eat, which means they mostly just sit around for three weeks doing nothing.) I got quite a few photos of them doing nothing. I also got some photos of a right whale doing nothing, while her calf swam around the bay.
It was hard to remember it was November, because it was spring in the southern hemisphere. The jacaranda (with their purple leaves) were in full show, the star jasmine perfumed the air, and the proteas (South Africa's national flower) were blooming on the hills. Days were long, with sunset occurring around 8pm. The weather varied incredibility, with highs in the low 60s some days, and high 80s the others. It was, in short, spectacular.
There was much I didn't do. I didn't visit Kirstenbosch, Groot Constantia, Franschhoek, or Robben Island. I didn't go to any game reserves. I didn't go sailing, parasailing, or shark diving. I didn't visit the aquarium, or see Cape Point. I did eat my way through Cape Town, enjoying bilkes, rusks, cappuccino muffins, and milktarts. I went to a wine farm and sampled six bottles, and even bought a Riesling. Friday night I went to an Orthodox synagogue, and Saturday I went to an optometrist and bought new glasses. (Not related.)
As I told everyone I met: This was my first visit to South Africa, but definitely not my last. It was as beautiful as I expected it to be, and the people were equally lovely. It is not a paradise, and it still has a long way to go in terms of social equality, which is being hindered by massive political corruption. I don't know that I'd want to live there, but I understand why people love it.
[Photos to follow soon.]
The beach, the mountains, the coast, the smell, the sun, the fauna: palm trees, jacarandas, agapanthus, bougainvillaeas, all reminded me of LA.
Also the urban sprawl, the traffic, the shopping malls, and the crushing poverty confined to a few small areas.
Of course, Los Angeles doesn't get gale force winds, or have one of the highest murder rates in the world. But then again, Los Angeles doesn't rank on the Mercer list of 'most livable cities in the world.' (Cape Town is 86.)
Which, I guess, is kind of the point: Cape Town is a study in contrasts. But I wasn't there to judge its economy, its social equality, or its political leadership. I was just there on holiday, and it was spectacular.
First, I need to dispel two myths: 1) Cape Town is not at Cape Point, and Cape Point is not the southernmost point of Africa. And 2) Water does not drain counter-clockwise south of the equator.
Table Mountain looms over the Cape; on the north side is the sea, with a tiny sliver of apartments in between. (I thought the sea was south until I saw the sun setting in the east.) South of Cape Town is the Cape peninsula -- which on a map resembles Baja California. All along are dotted small beaches, each with their own characteristics: Some are protected from the wind; some are sandy, others rocky; some are cold water (from the Atlantic current) while others have warm water (from the Indian ocean). The warm water beaches have sharks, with several attacks each year.
On the other side of the mountain, Cape Town sprawls out over 948 sq mi (about half the size of Los Angeles), with a population of 3.5 million. A few "shanty towns" speak to the poverty of the area--large areas of corrugated metal huts, connected to the electric grid. It is also where most of the crime is; the tourist areas are fairly safe.
The top of the mountain (reached by cable car) offers spectacular views of the ocean and the city. I'm sorry I didn't get to see the sunset from the mountain, but the fickle weather turned, clouds formed and poured into the gorges like waterfalls, the wind started to blow, and I got down as quickly as I could. The wind howled all through the night, but the next morning was clear and calm again.
Along "false bay" is Boulders beach, notable for a flock of African penguins (formerly known as "jackass" penguins because of their mating call). However, November is moulting season, and since they aren't waterproof, they stay out of the water. (Which means they don't eat, which means they mostly just sit around for three weeks doing nothing.) I got quite a few photos of them doing nothing. I also got some photos of a right whale doing nothing, while her calf swam around the bay.
It was hard to remember it was November, because it was spring in the southern hemisphere. The jacaranda (with their purple leaves) were in full show, the star jasmine perfumed the air, and the proteas (South Africa's national flower) were blooming on the hills. Days were long, with sunset occurring around 8pm. The weather varied incredibility, with highs in the low 60s some days, and high 80s the others. It was, in short, spectacular.
There was much I didn't do. I didn't visit Kirstenbosch, Groot Constantia, Franschhoek, or Robben Island. I didn't go to any game reserves. I didn't go sailing, parasailing, or shark diving. I didn't visit the aquarium, or see Cape Point. I did eat my way through Cape Town, enjoying bilkes, rusks, cappuccino muffins, and milktarts. I went to a wine farm and sampled six bottles, and even bought a Riesling. Friday night I went to an Orthodox synagogue, and Saturday I went to an optometrist and bought new glasses. (Not related.)
As I told everyone I met: This was my first visit to South Africa, but definitely not my last. It was as beautiful as I expected it to be, and the people were equally lovely. It is not a paradise, and it still has a long way to go in terms of social equality, which is being hindered by massive political corruption. I don't know that I'd want to live there, but I understand why people love it.
[Photos to follow soon.]
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Where have I been?
That's a very good question. I'm not sure I have a good answer. It *feels* like I've been really busy, though.
Over the past six weeks, I've had some friends move from Los Angeles to London, although it took me three weeks to actually meet up with them. I attended High Holy Days at my new synagogue. I spent a week in Wolverhampton at a training course -- the class was interesting, but Wolverhampton wasn't. I had tea at Cliveden House, gone to a couple of plays, a couple of movies. I didn't do anything for Halloween. I think I went to the gym once.
Tomorrow I'm flying to South Africa for 10 days, which is cool -- seriously, it's about 21C (70F), much lower than the November average of 25C (77F), but still warmer than England! When I get back, I have to go back to Wolverhampton for another week of training -- this time I'm driving, partly so I'm not stuck at the hotel every evening, but mostly because the plane from South Africa lands at 6:30am, and training starts at 9am the same day! In December I'm hoping to go back to the States to see my family, and may be attending Limmud, a week-long Jewish educational conference that sounds very interesting. (However, I'm not likely to get time off from work to do both.)
At the end of December, two more friends are moving from New York to London, although they have a new baby so I'm not sure how much I'll get to see of them. And then it's New Years and I have absolutely no plans after that. :-)
Over the past six weeks, I've had some friends move from Los Angeles to London, although it took me three weeks to actually meet up with them. I attended High Holy Days at my new synagogue. I spent a week in Wolverhampton at a training course -- the class was interesting, but Wolverhampton wasn't. I had tea at Cliveden House, gone to a couple of plays, a couple of movies. I didn't do anything for Halloween. I think I went to the gym once.
Tomorrow I'm flying to South Africa for 10 days, which is cool -- seriously, it's about 21C (70F), much lower than the November average of 25C (77F), but still warmer than England! When I get back, I have to go back to Wolverhampton for another week of training -- this time I'm driving, partly so I'm not stuck at the hotel every evening, but mostly because the plane from South Africa lands at 6:30am, and training starts at 9am the same day! In December I'm hoping to go back to the States to see my family, and may be attending Limmud, a week-long Jewish educational conference that sounds very interesting. (However, I'm not likely to get time off from work to do both.)
At the end of December, two more friends are moving from New York to London, although they have a new baby so I'm not sure how much I'll get to see of them. And then it's New Years and I have absolutely no plans after that. :-)
Friday, November 4, 2011
Eurozone crisis
This is a brilliant chart, highlighting the Eurozone crisis:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-13366011
If you think of GDP as your salary, and the annual deficit as the amount you borrow each year to make ends meet, you can see that most countries have been living beyond their means for many years, with only Finland actively saving money. (Ireland was saving, but the 'celtic tiger' collapsed so spectacularly, they are now running a 30% deficit, which is unheard of in a first world country.)
When California faced its budget crisis in 2008, it was forced to increase taxes and curb its spending in order to bring its budget under control. Imagine the alternative -- that California had simply continued borrowing money (and lying to the Federal government about how much it was borrowing) in order to pay its bills. Eventually it would have gotten to the point where it couldn't borrow any more, which meant it couldn't pay back what it owed, and would have defaulted on its loans.
Of course, governments do that all the time, but then they "devalue" the currency, in effect saying that it's worth less, and therefore they don't have to pay as much back. California can't do that because it doesn't control the dollar, and the Federal Government wouldn't devalue the dollar just because of California, so what would eventually happen is the Federal Government would have to step in and pay off California's debt.
That's exactly the same situation the Eurozone finds itself in with Greece, except with two key differences:.
1. Unlike the US -- where the Federal government has control and oversight of the 50 States -- the Euro is simply an agreement between member countries, with each country promising to behave responsibly. Greece actually lied about its financial condition for many years prior to the crisis.
2. When California tried to control spending, people were unhappy. When Greece tried to do the same, the people rioted!
The EU have already given Greece 220 billion euros (US $300 billion) and this week they rokered a deal to forgive Greece half of its debts, all in exchange for the promise that Greece would curb its spending...and the Greek prime minister thumbed his nose at it! Today, three years after this all came to light, Greece is still running an annual deficit, borrowing more than it can possibly pay back.
But the bigger problem is that, as the chart shows, it is clearly not limited to Portugal, Ireland, Greece, and Spain (the so-called "PIGS" countries). In terms of GDP, the UK is running an annual deficit equal to Greece, and worse than Spain! Germany and France, who are having to bail out the other countries, are already running their own deficit. (France is at 7%, and Germany at 3.3%)
And while the US has recovered somewhat from George W's final farewell -- taking the US from a balanced budget to a 10% annual deficit in just 8 short years (and implementing tax cuts at the same time!) -- it is not much better.
The only bright spot appears to be Estonia, which has achieved a balanced budget during the economic recession! Why isn't anyone getting financial advice from them?
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-13366011
If you think of GDP as your salary, and the annual deficit as the amount you borrow each year to make ends meet, you can see that most countries have been living beyond their means for many years, with only Finland actively saving money. (Ireland was saving, but the 'celtic tiger' collapsed so spectacularly, they are now running a 30% deficit, which is unheard of in a first world country.)
When California faced its budget crisis in 2008, it was forced to increase taxes and curb its spending in order to bring its budget under control. Imagine the alternative -- that California had simply continued borrowing money (and lying to the Federal government about how much it was borrowing) in order to pay its bills. Eventually it would have gotten to the point where it couldn't borrow any more, which meant it couldn't pay back what it owed, and would have defaulted on its loans.
Of course, governments do that all the time, but then they "devalue" the currency, in effect saying that it's worth less, and therefore they don't have to pay as much back. California can't do that because it doesn't control the dollar, and the Federal Government wouldn't devalue the dollar just because of California, so what would eventually happen is the Federal Government would have to step in and pay off California's debt.
That's exactly the same situation the Eurozone finds itself in with Greece, except with two key differences:.
1. Unlike the US -- where the Federal government has control and oversight of the 50 States -- the Euro is simply an agreement between member countries, with each country promising to behave responsibly. Greece actually lied about its financial condition for many years prior to the crisis.
2. When California tried to control spending, people were unhappy. When Greece tried to do the same, the people rioted!
The EU have already given Greece 220 billion euros (US $300 billion) and this week they rokered a deal to forgive Greece half of its debts, all in exchange for the promise that Greece would curb its spending...and the Greek prime minister thumbed his nose at it! Today, three years after this all came to light, Greece is still running an annual deficit, borrowing more than it can possibly pay back.
But the bigger problem is that, as the chart shows, it is clearly not limited to Portugal, Ireland, Greece, and Spain (the so-called "PIGS" countries). In terms of GDP, the UK is running an annual deficit equal to Greece, and worse than Spain! Germany and France, who are having to bail out the other countries, are already running their own deficit. (France is at 7%, and Germany at 3.3%)
And while the US has recovered somewhat from George W's final farewell -- taking the US from a balanced budget to a 10% annual deficit in just 8 short years (and implementing tax cuts at the same time!) -- it is not much better.
The only bright spot appears to be Estonia, which has achieved a balanced budget during the economic recession! Why isn't anyone getting financial advice from them?
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Marking time
Calculating when Jewish holidays occur is now pretty easy, but it didn't used to be that way. Since the months started on the new moon, and the holidays started at sunset in Jerusalem, messengers were dispatched to let other communities know when the festivals should be celebrated. When the second temple was destroyed by the Romans, there were no more messengers, so many communities (the diaspora) started celebrating festivals over two days, just to be sure. (Even today, they celebrate on two days out of tradition.)
And although a day seems like a simple thing to keep track of, it isn't. That's because the time it takes for the earth to rotate (one day) has nothing to do with the time it takes for the moon to revolve around the earth (one month) which has nothing to do with the time it takes for the earth to revolve around the sun (one year). So a lunar month lasts 27 days and 8 hours; a lunar year is 354 days 9 hours; a solar year is either 365.24219 days (tropical) or 365.2564 days (sidereal). Not to mention the moon is moving away at 4 inches per year, slowing its rotation, and the length of days may be affected by global warming as higher seas create a greater drag on the earth's rotation!
More trivia: The moon revolves at the same rate it rotates around Earth (that is, every 27 days and 8 hours) which is why the same face is always pointing towards Earth, and we didn't see the far side until 1959!
The ancient Sumerians had a pretty sophisticated "lunisolar" calendar -- 12 months, each starting with the sighting of a new moon, and an extra month was added periodically to keep the months in the same seasons. (The Sumerians also gave us 60 minutes -- they liked 60 because it can be easily factored by 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 10.) The Jews used the Sumer calendar (with some variations) while Europe adopted the Roman "Julian" calendar, which made the months slightly longer but got rid of the "leap month." The Muslims, by contrast, adopted a strict lunar calendar, so a Muslim year is 354 days, and the months change seasons, because they lose abut 12 days every year -- so in 10 years a holiday that was in December will now be in October! (According to the European calendar, anyway).
Incidentally, it was the Egyptians who subdivided daytime and nighttime into twelve hours each, but the length of the hour depended on the season. The Greeks--who also liked the number 60 but wanted a stable measurement of time--defined the hour as 1/24th of a day, a "minute" (as in "diminutive") as 1/60th of an hour, a "second" as 1/60 of a minute, a "third" as 1/60 of a second, a "fourth" as 1/60 of a third, and so on. Of course, we no longer use "thirds" and "fourths" but "seconds" stuck.
More trivia: "Idus" is latin for "half division" and referred to the half moon (what we would call the full moon). Since months started on the new moon, the "idus" was generally on the 13th of the month; however, when Julius Ceasar changed the months so they no longer followed the lunar cycle, "ides" was no longer relevant. However, the term was still in use when Julius was assassinated on the 15th of March -- now known as the "Ides of March."
Of course, the Julian system wasn't perfect -- the years were fixed at 365.25 days, but the solar year is about 11 minutes shorter. That means it gained one day every 131 years -- not bad, but the calendar was in use for over 2000 years! In addition, early timekeepers got confused and started adding leap days every 3 years -- as a result, when Augustus took over in 4CE, he had to drop 3 days from the calendar to fix it. In addition, there was no fixed point for starting the calendar, and so it was generally based on the rule of the regnant (i.e. 1 Julius, or 1 August).
More trivia: It is an urban myth that February used to have 29 days, and Augustus decided to move one day to August so it had the same number of days as Julius (July). You probably didn't even know that rumor, but now you know it isn't true.
The idea of Anno Domini was set out in the 6th century and adopted sporadically, but it wasn't until the 16th century that the Gregorian calendar replaced the Julian calendar, and even that wasn't adopted universally until the 1920s. (Seriously!) Of course, since Anno Domini translates as "The Year of our Lord" and refers to Jesus Christ, the Jews adapted it politically but not religiously. (And even politically, the term "common era" is used.) As countries adopted the Gregorian calendar, they had to skip ten days to move the spring equinox back to March 21.
Had any of these civilizations been particularly clever, they would have jettisoned the entire lunar calendar, because the moon isn't relevant to the seasons, it's just a pretty bauble in the night. Then they could have come up with a meaningful division of years that didn't involve the pattern "31,28,31,30,31,30,31,31,30,31,30,31". The Vikings actually tried this, but they may have oversimplified it a bit: They divided the year into two seasons, summer and winter, from April to October and October to April. They then divided each season into weeks, and got rid of the months. Apparently this worked quite well for them, as they didn't adopt the Gregorian calendar until the 1800s, some 200 years after it had been introduced.
More trivia: In the Sumerian calendar, there were no weeks; just days. The Jews defined the seven day week based on Genesis (God created the world in 6 days and rested on the 7th). Why seven days? Who knows. Maybe it was because of the four phases of the moon (28 day lunar cycle / 4 phases = 7 days.) Maybe it just seemed like a good idea to rest every seven days. The Romans started with an 8-day week but later adopted the Jewish 7-day week. The Chinese and Egyptians had a 10-day week, and the Celts (in Britain) had an 8-day/9-night week, which was closer to the 27.3 day lunar cycle, but must have been very confusing.
And last bit of trivia--actually, it's more of a rant: As the moon rotates every 27.9 days, and revolves around the sun every 365 days (same as earth), there are actually only 13 days a year on the moon! If an earth sunset lasts 2-3 minutes (depending on season and latitude), then the equivalent lunar sunset would last 84 minutes! In fact, you'd only have to travel 10 mph to stay ahead of the terminator line! So why is it that every science fiction film shows the lunar sunset overtaking the hapless astronauts in a matter of minutes?
And although a day seems like a simple thing to keep track of, it isn't. That's because the time it takes for the earth to rotate (one day) has nothing to do with the time it takes for the moon to revolve around the earth (one month) which has nothing to do with the time it takes for the earth to revolve around the sun (one year). So a lunar month lasts 27 days and 8 hours; a lunar year is 354 days 9 hours; a solar year is either 365.24219 days (tropical) or 365.2564 days (sidereal). Not to mention the moon is moving away at 4 inches per year, slowing its rotation, and the length of days may be affected by global warming as higher seas create a greater drag on the earth's rotation!
More trivia: The moon revolves at the same rate it rotates around Earth (that is, every 27 days and 8 hours) which is why the same face is always pointing towards Earth, and we didn't see the far side until 1959!
The ancient Sumerians had a pretty sophisticated "lunisolar" calendar -- 12 months, each starting with the sighting of a new moon, and an extra month was added periodically to keep the months in the same seasons. (The Sumerians also gave us 60 minutes -- they liked 60 because it can be easily factored by 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 10.) The Jews used the Sumer calendar (with some variations) while Europe adopted the Roman "Julian" calendar, which made the months slightly longer but got rid of the "leap month." The Muslims, by contrast, adopted a strict lunar calendar, so a Muslim year is 354 days, and the months change seasons, because they lose abut 12 days every year -- so in 10 years a holiday that was in December will now be in October! (According to the European calendar, anyway).
Incidentally, it was the Egyptians who subdivided daytime and nighttime into twelve hours each, but the length of the hour depended on the season. The Greeks--who also liked the number 60 but wanted a stable measurement of time--defined the hour as 1/24th of a day, a "minute" (as in "diminutive") as 1/60th of an hour, a "second" as 1/60 of a minute, a "third" as 1/60 of a second, a "fourth" as 1/60 of a third, and so on. Of course, we no longer use "thirds" and "fourths" but "seconds" stuck.
More trivia: "Idus" is latin for "half division" and referred to the half moon (what we would call the full moon). Since months started on the new moon, the "idus" was generally on the 13th of the month; however, when Julius Ceasar changed the months so they no longer followed the lunar cycle, "ides" was no longer relevant. However, the term was still in use when Julius was assassinated on the 15th of March -- now known as the "Ides of March."
Of course, the Julian system wasn't perfect -- the years were fixed at 365.25 days, but the solar year is about 11 minutes shorter. That means it gained one day every 131 years -- not bad, but the calendar was in use for over 2000 years! In addition, early timekeepers got confused and started adding leap days every 3 years -- as a result, when Augustus took over in 4CE, he had to drop 3 days from the calendar to fix it. In addition, there was no fixed point for starting the calendar, and so it was generally based on the rule of the regnant (i.e. 1 Julius, or 1 August).
More trivia: It is an urban myth that February used to have 29 days, and Augustus decided to move one day to August so it had the same number of days as Julius (July). You probably didn't even know that rumor, but now you know it isn't true.
The idea of Anno Domini was set out in the 6th century and adopted sporadically, but it wasn't until the 16th century that the Gregorian calendar replaced the Julian calendar, and even that wasn't adopted universally until the 1920s. (Seriously!) Of course, since Anno Domini translates as "The Year of our Lord" and refers to Jesus Christ, the Jews adapted it politically but not religiously. (And even politically, the term "common era" is used.) As countries adopted the Gregorian calendar, they had to skip ten days to move the spring equinox back to March 21.
Had any of these civilizations been particularly clever, they would have jettisoned the entire lunar calendar, because the moon isn't relevant to the seasons, it's just a pretty bauble in the night. Then they could have come up with a meaningful division of years that didn't involve the pattern "31,28,31,30,31,30,31,31,30,31,30,31". The Vikings actually tried this, but they may have oversimplified it a bit: They divided the year into two seasons, summer and winter, from April to October and October to April. They then divided each season into weeks, and got rid of the months. Apparently this worked quite well for them, as they didn't adopt the Gregorian calendar until the 1800s, some 200 years after it had been introduced.
More trivia: In the Sumerian calendar, there were no weeks; just days. The Jews defined the seven day week based on Genesis (God created the world in 6 days and rested on the 7th). Why seven days? Who knows. Maybe it was because of the four phases of the moon (28 day lunar cycle / 4 phases = 7 days.) Maybe it just seemed like a good idea to rest every seven days. The Romans started with an 8-day week but later adopted the Jewish 7-day week. The Chinese and Egyptians had a 10-day week, and the Celts (in Britain) had an 8-day/9-night week, which was closer to the 27.3 day lunar cycle, but must have been very confusing.
And last bit of trivia--actually, it's more of a rant: As the moon rotates every 27.9 days, and revolves around the sun every 365 days (same as earth), there are actually only 13 days a year on the moon! If an earth sunset lasts 2-3 minutes (depending on season and latitude), then the equivalent lunar sunset would last 84 minutes! In fact, you'd only have to travel 10 mph to stay ahead of the terminator line! So why is it that every science fiction film shows the lunar sunset overtaking the hapless astronauts in a matter of minutes?
Saturday, October 8, 2011
What Jews believe
Jews believe that God created the world on Rosh Hashana (literally 'head of the year') 5,772 years ago, and that on Rosh Hashana God reviews your life for the past year and pencils you in the book of life, giving you ten days to repent, give to charity, and otherwise convince God that you are worthy before he seals the book on Yom Kippur (literally, 'day of atonement'). On Yom Kippur, Jews fast for 25 hours, from sunset to sunset (plus a little extra just in case), and spend most of that time in church, praying. Jews are not allowed to eat, drink, work, wash, have sex, smoke, or wear leather shoes.
The Bible said: "On the first day of the seventh month you are to have a day of sabbath rest, a sacred assembly commemorated with trumpet blasts. Do no regular work, but present a food offering to the LORD.... The tenth day of this seventh month is the Day of Atonement. Hold a sacred assembly and deny yourselves, and present a food offering to the LORD." (Leviticus 23)
So, how did we get from two days of rest to 10 days of atonement? That's the beauty of religion.
First, how did the "first day of the seventh month" get to be the "head of the year"? Well, in Judaism, there are four new years -- one for kings, one for animals, one for vegetables, and one for trees. Not suprisingingly, the new year for animals is in the spring, vegetables in the summer, and trees in the autumn. The one for kings is actually the first day of the first month of the Jewish calendar, but somehow the vegetable new year became the day they changed the year. It would be like us celebrating New Year's day on April 1 -- how crazy would that be?
Oh wait, that's exactly what we did until 1582, when the calendar was changed and the new year was moved to January 1. Never mind.
Second, how was it decided that world was created on Rosh Hashanah? Well, if you actually believe our planet is less than 6,000 years old, you have other issues, so I'm going to skip this one.
Third, when did Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur become linked? Leviticus didn't say anything about "high holydays" or "days of awe." It didn't say anything about a book of life, or about giving to charity, or apologising to people you've wronged -- it just said on Rosh Hashana you should blow a horn, and on Yom Kippur you should deny yourself and atone. Leviticus doesn't link these two holidays; in fact, they are part of a list of six holidays, one of which comes five days after Yom Kippur, but it's not linked at all! Somehow, these ten days not only became linked, but somehow became the most important in the Jewish calendar. There's no rhyme or reason.
Fourth, how does "deny yourself" become translated as "don't eat, drink, work, wash, have sex, smoke, or wear leather shoes"? Not eating or drinking are self-evident. Not having sex makes sense, but the real reason is that elsewhere in the Bible it says coming in contact with semen makes you ritually unclean. (In fact, I was told that before the destruction of the Temple, the High Priest was kept awake the night before Yom Kippur lest he have a wet dream, and thus be unable to perform his duties the next day.)
But really, wear leather shoes? The best explanation I've heard is that back then the only types of shoes were leather, and so going without them (i.e. barefoot) was a hardship. However, to get around this proscription today, people wear trainers, which are even more comfortable! Go figure.
And smoking wasn't prohibited because it was a pleasure you should deny yourself, but because the cigarette butt has to pass your lips, so it's almost like eating. You know I'm not making this stuff up.
And finally, the rules around working are absolutely hilarious. Keep in mind, we're talking 2,500+ years ago in an agrarian society; there were no weekends or holidays for the workers. The Jewish calendar was a revelation! And you'd think common sense would dictate that "do no regular work" would mean just that -- no work in your regular occupation. However, the Rabbis couldn't content themselves with something so simple, so they defined 39 prohibited activities:
Today, observant Jews won't drive on Saturday (or any holiday) because the petrol engine is "kindling a fire." (And they won't drive an electric vehicle because creating a spark is also considered kinding a fire.) They also won't flip a switch for the same reason -- so if a light is on, it stays on the entire time.
Finally, what happened to the food offerings to the LORD? Well, the LORD only presided in the Temple, which the Romans destroyed in 70 CE. No Temple, no LORD, no food offerings. More for us.
OK, so that's what the Jews believe. What *I* believe is that the link between fasting and spirituality (or maybe just hallucinating) is well established, and denying yourself one day of the year -- to really make you appreciate your place in the world -- is a wonderful tradition. I believe that coming to synagogue to pray for forgiveness *as a community* (not an individual) also reinforces your place in that community, and reminds you that you are your brother's keeper. I believe that giving you ten days to "make good" really forces you to consider the past year; it's not going to church on Easter and getting it over with. I believe that breaking the fast with friends and family, all of whom have been denying themselves as well, is what really makes it holy.
So tomorrow I will be hungry, tired, and sitting in a gym all day. (Most Jews only attend synagogue on these two days of the year, so they have to be moved to a larger venue. Last year it was under a tent; this year it is in a gym.) I will be practicing my Hebrew and haltingly singing the few songs I know. I will be alone amongst about 500 people, with no friends or family, but I will feel a certain kinship with every one of them, because they are there for the same reasons I am. Not because they believe God commanded them to, or because they are worried about being written in the book of life, and certainly not because they enjoy being hungry and hanging out with people who haven't bathed, but because they instinctively feel the need to come together, to reflect and consider, to deny themselves for one day, and to do so as a community.
My community.
The Bible said: "On the first day of the seventh month you are to have a day of sabbath rest, a sacred assembly commemorated with trumpet blasts. Do no regular work, but present a food offering to the LORD.... The tenth day of this seventh month is the Day of Atonement. Hold a sacred assembly and deny yourselves, and present a food offering to the LORD." (Leviticus 23)
So, how did we get from two days of rest to 10 days of atonement? That's the beauty of religion.
First, how did the "first day of the seventh month" get to be the "head of the year"? Well, in Judaism, there are four new years -- one for kings, one for animals, one for vegetables, and one for trees. Not suprisingingly, the new year for animals is in the spring, vegetables in the summer, and trees in the autumn. The one for kings is actually the first day of the first month of the Jewish calendar, but somehow the vegetable new year became the day they changed the year. It would be like us celebrating New Year's day on April 1 -- how crazy would that be?
Oh wait, that's exactly what we did until 1582, when the calendar was changed and the new year was moved to January 1. Never mind.
Second, how was it decided that world was created on Rosh Hashanah? Well, if you actually believe our planet is less than 6,000 years old, you have other issues, so I'm going to skip this one.
Third, when did Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur become linked? Leviticus didn't say anything about "high holydays" or "days of awe." It didn't say anything about a book of life, or about giving to charity, or apologising to people you've wronged -- it just said on Rosh Hashana you should blow a horn, and on Yom Kippur you should deny yourself and atone. Leviticus doesn't link these two holidays; in fact, they are part of a list of six holidays, one of which comes five days after Yom Kippur, but it's not linked at all! Somehow, these ten days not only became linked, but somehow became the most important in the Jewish calendar. There's no rhyme or reason.
Fourth, how does "deny yourself" become translated as "don't eat, drink, work, wash, have sex, smoke, or wear leather shoes"? Not eating or drinking are self-evident. Not having sex makes sense, but the real reason is that elsewhere in the Bible it says coming in contact with semen makes you ritually unclean. (In fact, I was told that before the destruction of the Temple, the High Priest was kept awake the night before Yom Kippur lest he have a wet dream, and thus be unable to perform his duties the next day.)
But really, wear leather shoes? The best explanation I've heard is that back then the only types of shoes were leather, and so going without them (i.e. barefoot) was a hardship. However, to get around this proscription today, people wear trainers, which are even more comfortable! Go figure.
And smoking wasn't prohibited because it was a pleasure you should deny yourself, but because the cigarette butt has to pass your lips, so it's almost like eating. You know I'm not making this stuff up.
And finally, the rules around working are absolutely hilarious. Keep in mind, we're talking 2,500+ years ago in an agrarian society; there were no weekends or holidays for the workers. The Jewish calendar was a revelation! And you'd think common sense would dictate that "do no regular work" would mean just that -- no work in your regular occupation. However, the Rabbis couldn't content themselves with something so simple, so they defined 39 prohibited activities:
Ploughing earth, sowing, reaping, binding sheaves, threshing, winnowing (separating chaff from grain), selecting (separating debris from grain), grinding, sifting, kneading, baking, shearing wool, washing wool, beating wool, dyeing wool, spinning, weaving, making two loops, weaving two threads, separating two threads, tying, untying, sewing stitches, tearing, trapping, slaughtering, flaying, tanning, scraping hide, marking hides, cutting hide to shape, writing two or more letters, erasing two or more letters, building, demolishing, extinguishing a fire, kindling a fire, putting the finishing touch on an object and transporting an object between the private domain and the public domain, or for a distance of 4 cubits (about 6 feet) within the public domain.
Today, observant Jews won't drive on Saturday (or any holiday) because the petrol engine is "kindling a fire." (And they won't drive an electric vehicle because creating a spark is also considered kinding a fire.) They also won't flip a switch for the same reason -- so if a light is on, it stays on the entire time.
Finally, what happened to the food offerings to the LORD? Well, the LORD only presided in the Temple, which the Romans destroyed in 70 CE. No Temple, no LORD, no food offerings. More for us.
OK, so that's what the Jews believe. What *I* believe is that the link between fasting and spirituality (or maybe just hallucinating) is well established, and denying yourself one day of the year -- to really make you appreciate your place in the world -- is a wonderful tradition. I believe that coming to synagogue to pray for forgiveness *as a community* (not an individual) also reinforces your place in that community, and reminds you that you are your brother's keeper. I believe that giving you ten days to "make good" really forces you to consider the past year; it's not going to church on Easter and getting it over with. I believe that breaking the fast with friends and family, all of whom have been denying themselves as well, is what really makes it holy.
So tomorrow I will be hungry, tired, and sitting in a gym all day. (Most Jews only attend synagogue on these two days of the year, so they have to be moved to a larger venue. Last year it was under a tent; this year it is in a gym.) I will be practicing my Hebrew and haltingly singing the few songs I know. I will be alone amongst about 500 people, with no friends or family, but I will feel a certain kinship with every one of them, because they are there for the same reasons I am. Not because they believe God commanded them to, or because they are worried about being written in the book of life, and certainly not because they enjoy being hungry and hanging out with people who haven't bathed, but because they instinctively feel the need to come together, to reflect and consider, to deny themselves for one day, and to do so as a community.
My community.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Tennis, bridge, and Judaism (oh my!)
This is kind of a silly observation, but I think I enjoy tennis and bridge because you are playing independently, but responding to a partner. In team sports, you only get to play one role; in individual sports, such as golf or bowling, you effectively play by yourself, and then just compare scores. Boxing is similar to tennis and bridge, but winning is not just making your opponent lose. It's more a finesse than a bludgeoning.
In many ways, I see Judaism the same way. It's not a team sport -- you can't delegate different aspects to different people -- but it's not an individual sport, either -- the community is an integral part of the process, and many of the experiences would be meaningless without them. in fact, in Judaism, the most sacred prayers require a quorum of ten people just to say them!
How I interpret it, how I celebrate it, what I value -- this is all left to me, it all has to be reflected by me. Sure there are plenty of books and guides, just as there are books and teachers on tennis and bridge, but it comes down to how I practice it. That said, I can't practice it in a vacuum -- I need the community, and they influence me just as I influence them.
Fortunately, religion isn't going to become an Olympic sport any time soon, but I just thought it an interesting correlation between my current three favorite pasttimes. I also noticed, not coincidentally, that all three are extremely complex, and that is part of their joy: how you are always facing new situations, and how you can always grow.
In many ways, I see Judaism the same way. It's not a team sport -- you can't delegate different aspects to different people -- but it's not an individual sport, either -- the community is an integral part of the process, and many of the experiences would be meaningless without them. in fact, in Judaism, the most sacred prayers require a quorum of ten people just to say them!
How I interpret it, how I celebrate it, what I value -- this is all left to me, it all has to be reflected by me. Sure there are plenty of books and guides, just as there are books and teachers on tennis and bridge, but it comes down to how I practice it. That said, I can't practice it in a vacuum -- I need the community, and they influence me just as I influence them.
Fortunately, religion isn't going to become an Olympic sport any time soon, but I just thought it an interesting correlation between my current three favorite pasttimes. I also noticed, not coincidentally, that all three are extremely complex, and that is part of their joy: how you are always facing new situations, and how you can always grow.
9/11
I didn't do anything for the 9/11 anniversary. I didn't even watch anything on TV. Honestly, I just wasn't that bothered.
But when I think about it, 9/11 probably had a profound effect on me. Not watching the towers fall -- like most Americans, I watched that on television, eating breakfast, completely detached. But immediately afterwards, it was really only the second time -- after with the Challenger disaster in 1986 -- that I'd truly felt "patriotism."
For me, the Challenger disaster was epitomised by Ronald Reagan's emotional tribute:
Unfortunately, we didn't have Ronald Reagan in 2001 to express the grief of the country. Instead, we had George W. Bush. The same man who, just a year earlier, said these words:
But I didn't have to look far for a personal embodiment of the effects of 9/11. My friend and co-worker from India, who moved me to tears the day after 9/11 because he wanted to give blood but didn't know how to do it in this country., a week later told me no longer left his house because of all the menacing glares he got from people. This was Los Angeles, not Alabama!
So I don't think I appreciated it at the time, but 9/11 was like falling in love only to be kicked in the stomach. To feel patriotism only to watch your countrymen perform hate crimes, start wars, torture prisoners, and condemn one-third of the world population because of the acts of a handful of people. Something in me died after 9/11, and when -- 5 years later -- I found myself with the opportunity to move anywhere, the US wasn't even on the list.
The rallying call for every ignorant redneck in the county is, "Love it or leave it!" Well, I left it, in part because of America's response to 9/11.
But when I think about it, 9/11 probably had a profound effect on me. Not watching the towers fall -- like most Americans, I watched that on television, eating breakfast, completely detached. But immediately afterwards, it was really only the second time -- after with the Challenger disaster in 1986 -- that I'd truly felt "patriotism."
For me, the Challenger disaster was epitomised by Ronald Reagan's emotional tribute:
The future doesn't belong to the fainthearted; it belongs to the brave... We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and slipped the surly bonds of Earth to touch the face of God.
Unfortunately, we didn't have Ronald Reagan in 2001 to express the grief of the country. Instead, we had George W. Bush. The same man who, just a year earlier, said these words:
America has never been united by blood or birth or soil. We are bound by ideals that move us beyond our backgrounds, lift us above our interests and teach us what it means to be citizens. (2000)
Now said these:- America has never been an empire. We may be the only great power in history that had the chance, and refused – preferring greatness to power and justice to glory. (1999)
- American foreign policy must be more than the management of crisis. It must have a great and guiding goal: to turn this time of American influence into generations of democratic peace. (1999)
- Whether we bring our enemies to justice or bring justice to our enemies, justice will be done.
- Every nation in every region now has a decision to make. Either you are with us, or you are with the terrorists
But I didn't have to look far for a personal embodiment of the effects of 9/11. My friend and co-worker from India, who moved me to tears the day after 9/11 because he wanted to give blood but didn't know how to do it in this country., a week later told me no longer left his house because of all the menacing glares he got from people. This was Los Angeles, not Alabama!
So I don't think I appreciated it at the time, but 9/11 was like falling in love only to be kicked in the stomach. To feel patriotism only to watch your countrymen perform hate crimes, start wars, torture prisoners, and condemn one-third of the world population because of the acts of a handful of people. Something in me died after 9/11, and when -- 5 years later -- I found myself with the opportunity to move anywhere, the US wasn't even on the list.
The rallying call for every ignorant redneck in the county is, "Love it or leave it!" Well, I left it, in part because of America's response to 9/11.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Get your requests in
I have to make my charitable donations by 28 September, so let me know of any charity work you're doing this year that requires sponsorship. Thanks.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Some photos of me
How narcissistic is this? I was playing around with Picassa's face recognition, and it automatically pulled up a bunch of photos of me, which was a bit freaky but kind of cool.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Unbelievable
I moved to Reading in July and didn't know a soul, so the first thing I did was look around for groups to join. I joined the bridge club, I went to the tennis club, and I found an online meetup group that was planning a picnic in August at Christchurch meadow, which my flat overlooks, so of course I signed up for that. Then I promptly forgot about it.
i also signed up for online dating, and had contacted quite a few people through that. When I saw the picnic in my diary, I invited one of the women I'd been talking to, but hadn't met. I figured, it was outdoors, in a large group, it was perfect.
This morning, I received an email from someone else I'd contacted on the dating service (but who had never responded) saying she was going to be at the picnic! I thought, wow, that's awkward, but it's outdoors, in a large group, it would be fine.
Then I found out they had cancelled the picnic, and were going to meet in a local pub! Right, two girls from the same dating site in a pub. I wasn't sure how to handle this, but as long as it was a large group, it would be fine.
It turned out there were five of us, I was the only guy, and the two girls sat on either side of me. And I was much more interested in one of the other girls.
In case you didn't think it could get more awkward, the other two girls started talking about Internet dating, and all of the negative experiences they had with men. When one of them asked, "Have any of you tried internet dating?" mercifully all three of us were silent. I changed the subject.
So far, things were going fine--neither girl knew I'd met the other on the same dating website; they didn't know each other; I'd given them both a similar amount of attention; all I had to do was say goodbye and I was home free. One had to go to work and the other one wanted to walk to Caversham Court, which was perfect--I could say goodbye to the first in the parking lot, and then catch up with the second. Except the first decided to go to Caversham Court as well, and then we all walked back together, and I had to decide to walk one to her car or the other to her bike. I briefly considered running away, or jumping into traffic, but in the end I stayed with the one I invited. Seemed the gentlemanly thing to do.
Now I need to call the other girl...
i also signed up for online dating, and had contacted quite a few people through that. When I saw the picnic in my diary, I invited one of the women I'd been talking to, but hadn't met. I figured, it was outdoors, in a large group, it was perfect.
This morning, I received an email from someone else I'd contacted on the dating service (but who had never responded) saying she was going to be at the picnic! I thought, wow, that's awkward, but it's outdoors, in a large group, it would be fine.
Then I found out they had cancelled the picnic, and were going to meet in a local pub! Right, two girls from the same dating site in a pub. I wasn't sure how to handle this, but as long as it was a large group, it would be fine.
It turned out there were five of us, I was the only guy, and the two girls sat on either side of me. And I was much more interested in one of the other girls.
In case you didn't think it could get more awkward, the other two girls started talking about Internet dating, and all of the negative experiences they had with men. When one of them asked, "Have any of you tried internet dating?" mercifully all three of us were silent. I changed the subject.
So far, things were going fine--neither girl knew I'd met the other on the same dating website; they didn't know each other; I'd given them both a similar amount of attention; all I had to do was say goodbye and I was home free. One had to go to work and the other one wanted to walk to Caversham Court, which was perfect--I could say goodbye to the first in the parking lot, and then catch up with the second. Except the first decided to go to Caversham Court as well, and then we all walked back together, and I had to decide to walk one to her car or the other to her bike. I briefly considered running away, or jumping into traffic, but in the end I stayed with the one I invited. Seemed the gentlemanly thing to do.
Now I need to call the other girl...
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Why me?
I only had two appointments: I was going to the Reading synagogue in the morning, and I had to be in Southampton this afternoon by 4pm. I woke up a bit late and so was in a rush, and I was already downstairs and in the car when I realized I forgot my phone. As I've mentioned, my Android phone is my lifeline -- it acts as phone, GPS, Internet, etc. -- but because I was running late and I had a vague idea of where the synagogue was (I'd never been but I had looked it up on the Internet), I thought I'd be fine. Needless to say, I never found it.
I did drive to Maidenhead synagogue, which has morning services an hour later, and then came home. On the way home, I heard there was a football match at Majeski stadium at 3pm, and to expect heavy traffic on the A33. Needless to say, that is the way to Southampton. No problem, I thought, I would just take the A329 south and let my phone/GPS get me back on track. I even left 20 minutes early, just in case.
Of course, since I just moved to the area, I didn't realize the A329 runs east, not south. In addition, the phone would not connect to the Internet, so I could not get any directions. I tried everything I could think of to force it to connect, but nothing worked. Perhaps if I hadn't been focusing on the phone while I was driving, I would have realized I was going the wrong way, or perhaps even seen a sign that would have taken me the right way. Instead, i ended up so far out of the way that by the time I looked at a map, the best plan was to continue going the wrong way until I reached the motorway. I had gone 20 miles out of the way.
At this point, I had 24 minutes to go 41 miles, so I tried to call and let them know I would be late. Instead, I heard this message: "Calls from this number have been barred." I tried two other numbers and got the same message. That's when I knew why my phone couldn't connect to the internet.
While I was in the States 6 weeks ago, I decided to buy a "data subscription" so I could access the Internet on my phone. I bought 10MB, which I knew was pathetically small, but it would be fine for emails and such. I asked them to disable data access after I reached the 10MB limit, but of course they said they couldn't do that. Instead, they told me to download an app which would display my usage. Fair enough, I checked it every night; On the first day, I'd used 1MB; by the second I'd used 3MB, and on the third I'd used 5MB. All perfectly reasonable and I was actually getting on the plane to leave Georgia when I checked my usage again and it was over 330MB, and the bill was over £1,000 (US $1,650)!!
I'm not kidding. Needless to say, I was quite distraught the entire plane ride, and called them as soon as I landed, but of course they were closed. I called the following day and they said they'd look into it and call me back--they never did. I called again the third day and was told the system was down but they'd call be back as soon as it was up--they never did. I called again two days later and, after waiting on hold 15 minutes, then spending 10 minutes going over the issue for the third time, was disconnected.
Suddenly it was no longer about the money, I was just pissed at the customer service. I called again and got someone who actually addressed the issue -- by asking me if I had disabled data roaming on my phone. I said no, why would I buy a data subscription and then disable data roaming so I couldn't use the subscription? She told me that if I didn't disable data roaming, then the charges were valid and I had to pay. I asked how is it that I could have used a total of 5MB in the first three days and 325MB the fourth day, when I hadn't done anything differently? She said I must have watched a movie on my phone. I said I didn't watch a movie. She said if I hadn't disabled data roaming, I would have to pay. I reiterated that it would have been rather stupid for me to buy a data subscription and then disable data roaming.
In the end, I told her I simply couldn't afford that, and I needed to speak to someone who could negotiate. She told me that, since I had direct debit, they were going to take the money out of my checking account the next day. But, she told me, if I cancel the direct debit then the collections department would contact me, and I could negotiate with them. I said that was fine, and cancelled the direct debit.
Needless to say, Orange did not contact me, and in fact yesterday I finally wrote them a letter outlining all of the above. I know they wouldn't have received the letter in one day, so it was coincidence they cut off my phone today. But it was pretty clear that's what they had done, and why I couldn't access the Internet or get a directions. I even tried to call Orange and was told that number was blocked, as well!
So now I'm late, I'm pissed, I can't get hold of anyone, and the irony is I seriously considered taking the train, but decided it was a nice day and I'd really enjoy the drive!! Did I mention I was going to Southampton to get a massage?
Oddly, my phone could still take incoming calls, which I discovered when the spa called me to ask where I was. Of course, they called me after I had gotten off the motorway and was negotiating all of the little bendy streets in town. I knew the hotel was on the water, but I didn't appreciate that most of Southampton was along the water! I thought about asking her for directions but since I couldn't actually tell her where I was, I didn't think she could help me. In the end, I got very lucky and stumbled upon it.
When I finally got to the spa, the masseuse told me she only had time to do a backrub, which was fine. in fact, it was better than fine--I much preferred being dressed, and I think i will only do backrubs in the future. However, on Thursday I had joined the local gym and went to my first yoga class in a year, and on Friday met with a personal trainer for an hour. I didn't appreciate how knotted my back was, until she started in. The massage was actually painful, but it in the end I felt wonderful.
After dinner, I put the top down on my car, took the A33, and had a very relaxed and peaceful drive home under the stars, which took less than an hour.
Tomorrow I will be having words with my cell phone provider, and I suspect when I'm done, I'll need another massage...
In red is the road less travelled (and for good reason)
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Unparliamentary language
In Parliament, one of the functions of the Speaker of the House is to enforce the assembly's debating rules, one of which is that members must not offend the dignity of the assembly, suggest another member is dishonest or dishonourable, or use profanity: Some words that have been banned:
- blackguard - A scoundrel; an unprincipled contemptible person
- coward
- git - silly, incompetent, stupid, or annoying. It is more severe than twit or idiot but less severe than wanker or arsehole.
- guttersnipe - A person from the lowest social or economic class; a street urchin.
- hooligan - A person that causes trouble or violence.
- ignoramus - An ignorant or stupid person.
- liar
- rat
- swine
- stoolpigeon - A police informer, or criminal's look-out or decoy.
- tart - a prostitute.or a promiscuous woman
- traitor
- sod - an idiot, moron, or annoying person (from sodomite)
- slimy
- wart
- Terminological inexactitude (lie)
- Being economical with the truth (lying by omission)
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Rules to live by
As a moody teenager, I really struggled to make sense of life, and it took a few years to pull together a set of norms that I was comfortable with, and have been living by ever since. First among these were three rules of personal conduct (not unlike Asimov's three laws):
1) First do no harm
2) Use everything to your advantage
3) Take care of the important things; get rid of the unimportant things
When I tell people about these, they are usually very skeptical of the second rule, because they forget the first one. If you are taking advantage of a person, then by definition you are doing harm. If you are taking advantage of an opportunity, there's nothing wrong with that.
These rules worked for me for 20 years; I don't think I've done anyone any harm, I took advantage of a lot of opportunities -- working at Honda, restoring the B&B, moving to England -- and I've taken care of the important things, although sometimes to my own detriment. Today I can look back on my life with a sense of pride, but not because I lived by these rules, but because these rules allowed me to contribute back to society.
I realize now that these rules are all about me; there is nothing there about giving back, or leaving something better than I found it. I need my life rules to refect this inclusion, this sense of belonging, of being part of something larger than myself.
In other words, I've grown up a little bit.
I'm not going to replace the rules -- I think they are still good rules to live by -- but I am going to add four more, although at their heart the first three are just acknowledgements that I have a responsibility for others.
4) Take care of yourself so you can take care of others
5) If you can help someone, do it. If you can compliment someone, say it.
6) Celebrate the rituals of life with friends and family
7) Be grateful, helpful, honest, and above all, happy
I should probably put something in there about not buying houses for other people, but hopefully I've learned that lesson...
1) First do no harm
2) Use everything to your advantage
3) Take care of the important things; get rid of the unimportant things
When I tell people about these, they are usually very skeptical of the second rule, because they forget the first one. If you are taking advantage of a person, then by definition you are doing harm. If you are taking advantage of an opportunity, there's nothing wrong with that.
These rules worked for me for 20 years; I don't think I've done anyone any harm, I took advantage of a lot of opportunities -- working at Honda, restoring the B&B, moving to England -- and I've taken care of the important things, although sometimes to my own detriment. Today I can look back on my life with a sense of pride, but not because I lived by these rules, but because these rules allowed me to contribute back to society.
I realize now that these rules are all about me; there is nothing there about giving back, or leaving something better than I found it. I need my life rules to refect this inclusion, this sense of belonging, of being part of something larger than myself.
In other words, I've grown up a little bit.
I'm not going to replace the rules -- I think they are still good rules to live by -- but I am going to add four more, although at their heart the first three are just acknowledgements that I have a responsibility for others.
4) Take care of yourself so you can take care of others
5) If you can help someone, do it. If you can compliment someone, say it.
6) Celebrate the rituals of life with friends and family
7) Be grateful, helpful, honest, and above all, happy
I should probably put something in there about not buying houses for other people, but hopefully I've learned that lesson...
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Student housing
I only have two regrets in my life: Not spending more time with my father, and not going to a university, although the latter isn't so much a regret as a "what if?" I decided at an early age (14 or 15) that i wasn't going to college, although I couldn't tell you why--maybe it was concern over costs (my family didn't have any money, and I didn't want to work hard enough in high school to get a scholarship), or perhaps because I was so pre-occupied with computers, I wasn't interested in general education courses.
Whatever the reason, I quickly realized that any job in computers required a degree, and so I went to a technical school for 3 years to get my bachelors. But night school at a local technical college is a far cry from a university. I did the work required, but it was hardly stimulating, mind-expanding, or fulfilling. I didn't make any lifelong friendships, and (more importantly) never learned to drink.
Now, it's not like I sit at home at night, nursing a cup of tea, thinking about what might have been. But it came back to me this weekend because, while I was in Edinburgh, I stayed in the student housing at the university. (Most rooms in Edinburgh during August are over £200/night; I was paying £45 including breakfast.) Lying in the dark, listening to groups of students in the quad, talking and laughing, I tried to picture a younger version of myself mixing in.
And the fact is, I probably wouldn't have. Perhaps my career would have been slightly different, but then I've always been quite happy with my career.
I've taken community college courses off an on through the years, and when I moved to England, I looked into taking some classes here. However, because I am not a British citizen, the fees were outrageous. For example, at Birkbeck University, an undergraduate degree would cost a British citizen around £6600, but the same courses would have cost me £22,000!
So I decided to wait until I had my citizenship. Unfortunately, since the new government bizarrely and perversely decided to raise university fees this year (perversely because they said it as a cost-saving measure, when it will actually cost the government more), the fees for ciizens have skyrocketed. For example, last year an undergraduate degree from the Open University -- which is all online -- would have cost a British citizen around £2,600; this year it is around £10,000! And I would have to pay £14,000!
The big difference is that for a British Citizen, the UK government would extend a loan for the full amount, that would only have to be repaid after graduation and only if the graduate was making a certain amount of money. I would have to pay up-front.
So I think that puts paid to that. (That's an English expression, which obviously means "forget it.") In any case, I'm afraid I'm too old and intolerant of youth to appreciate the 'university experience.' i just hope the next generation of my family doesn't even have the same regret.
Whatever the reason, I quickly realized that any job in computers required a degree, and so I went to a technical school for 3 years to get my bachelors. But night school at a local technical college is a far cry from a university. I did the work required, but it was hardly stimulating, mind-expanding, or fulfilling. I didn't make any lifelong friendships, and (more importantly) never learned to drink.
Now, it's not like I sit at home at night, nursing a cup of tea, thinking about what might have been. But it came back to me this weekend because, while I was in Edinburgh, I stayed in the student housing at the university. (Most rooms in Edinburgh during August are over £200/night; I was paying £45 including breakfast.) Lying in the dark, listening to groups of students in the quad, talking and laughing, I tried to picture a younger version of myself mixing in.
And the fact is, I probably wouldn't have. Perhaps my career would have been slightly different, but then I've always been quite happy with my career.
I've taken community college courses off an on through the years, and when I moved to England, I looked into taking some classes here. However, because I am not a British citizen, the fees were outrageous. For example, at Birkbeck University, an undergraduate degree would cost a British citizen around £6600, but the same courses would have cost me £22,000!
So I decided to wait until I had my citizenship. Unfortunately, since the new government bizarrely and perversely decided to raise university fees this year (perversely because they said it as a cost-saving measure, when it will actually cost the government more), the fees for ciizens have skyrocketed. For example, last year an undergraduate degree from the Open University -- which is all online -- would have cost a British citizen around £2,600; this year it is around £10,000! And I would have to pay £14,000!
The big difference is that for a British Citizen, the UK government would extend a loan for the full amount, that would only have to be repaid after graduation and only if the graduate was making a certain amount of money. I would have to pay up-front.
So I think that puts paid to that. (That's an English expression, which obviously means "forget it.") In any case, I'm afraid I'm too old and intolerant of youth to appreciate the 'university experience.' i just hope the next generation of my family doesn't even have the same regret.
Monday, August 15, 2011
World jewry
I found these statistics interesting, illuminating, and a little bit scary.
According to the Israel Central Bureau of Statistics there were 14,993,000 Jews worldwide in 2010. That includes 4.5 million secular Jews -- that is, people of Jewish descent that do not consider themselves Jewish!
That's 0.2% of the world population. For every 1 Jew, there are 81 Catholics, 80 Christians, 140 Muslims, 64 Hindus, 36 Buddhists, 78 atheists, and 29 others. In the US, Jews make up only 1.7% of the population. In the UK, it is 0.5%.
In the US, 54% of Jews marry outside of the religion. The overall growth rate for Jews is stagnant or at a slight decline, and the average age of Jews is advancing quickly. (Which means not enough Jewish children are being born to replace those who are dying.)
On the one hand, I think it's amazing the Jewish influence on the world, considering their small numbers. On the other hand, these numbers are not sustainable. I'm not going to make any long-term predictions, as I imagine a religion that has survived 3,000 years and at least four attempts to wipe them out will find a way to carry on, but it does make me worry.
According to the Israel Central Bureau of Statistics there were 14,993,000 Jews worldwide in 2010. That includes 4.5 million secular Jews -- that is, people of Jewish descent that do not consider themselves Jewish!
That's 0.2% of the world population. For every 1 Jew, there are 81 Catholics, 80 Christians, 140 Muslims, 64 Hindus, 36 Buddhists, 78 atheists, and 29 others. In the US, Jews make up only 1.7% of the population. In the UK, it is 0.5%.
In the US, 54% of Jews marry outside of the religion. The overall growth rate for Jews is stagnant or at a slight decline, and the average age of Jews is advancing quickly. (Which means not enough Jewish children are being born to replace those who are dying.)
On the one hand, I think it's amazing the Jewish influence on the world, considering their small numbers. On the other hand, these numbers are not sustainable. I'm not going to make any long-term predictions, as I imagine a religion that has survived 3,000 years and at least four attempts to wipe them out will find a way to carry on, but it does make me worry.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Queue, queue, and queue some more
I don't have any statistics, surprisingly enough, bit I'm sure the population of Edinburgh trebles during August--which is surprising since most European cities empty out at this time, when everyone goes on holiday.
Not surprisingly, then, there are queues for everything-at the shows, the bars, the cafes, the toilets. Sometimes you have to queue to get into a queue!
But its all handled in good spirits-literally. This being Scotland, with the highest per capita consumption of alcohol in Europe, you're never more than a few steps from a bar. It's not illegal to drink in public, and long about 1am, every vestibule is taken up by someone sitting on the pavement, surrounded by a few well-meaning friends asking if they're okay and offering to get them a cab. Ah, the joys of alcohol poisoning.
I guess that's the best way to handle large crowds. Maybe I should try it.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Travel posters
After a month of staring at blank walls, I finally ordered some old travel posters from National Rail. Obviously these are reproductions, but the originals date to the 1930s and 40s. They are 100cm x 70cm (3' 3" x 2' 3") and I think five will finish off the living room nicely. Now for the bedroom...
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Edinburgh Fringe Festival
I mentioned the fringe last year, and the numbers are even bigger this year: over 40,000 performances of over 2,500 shows over three weeks in Edinburgh! It's absolutely overwhelming, and as you can imagine from an unjuried festival, there's quite a bit of crap. So I took some time last night to organise my notes and read some reviews and put together a "schedule" for this weekend. Of course, I'm meeting some friends and they have kids and the shows are all over town and at some point I'll want to eat and three of the shows are sold out but I may be able to get tickets. There were four shows I wanted to see enough to buy tickets in advance; the rest I'll play by here. (Technically it was five tickets, but that's because they have a one-hour magic show, and then a second hour revealing how they did the magic.) Anyway, here's the rundown:
Friday
Arrive train station 6:22pm; check in to hotel; collect tickets
8-9:10pm camille o'sullivan or What Remains
10:15pm Barry & Stuart: Show & Tell - The Show
12am Barry and Stuart - Show & Tell: The Tell
Saturday
10am Visit the National Museum of Scotland, Mirazozo (a collection of inflatable shapes you can walk through)
4:30pm Casablanca: The Gin Joint Cut
5pm-7pm?
7pm-9pm Dinner? (if not, see josie long or smutty songs)
9pm The Pajama Men: In the Middle of No One
10:30pm Dead Cat Bounce
Sunday
Bubblewrap and boxes (10:45) or Pop-Up! (11am)
Amazing bubble show (12.05–12.50pm)
Just a minute (1:30pm)
Comedy for kids (2:30)
4-5:10pm Potted Potter
5:30-6:30pm?
Josie long or smutty songs (7-8pm)
9pm military tattoo? (If not, idiots of ants at 8:30-9:30)
Rich hall (9:40)
Early night--train at 6am!
It's going to be a great weekend. :-)
Friday
Arrive train station 6:22pm; check in to hotel; collect tickets
8-9:10pm camille o'sullivan or What Remains
10:15pm Barry & Stuart: Show & Tell - The Show
12am Barry and Stuart - Show & Tell: The Tell
Saturday
10am Visit the National Museum of Scotland, Mirazozo (a collection of inflatable shapes you can walk through)
4:30pm Casablanca: The Gin Joint Cut
5pm-7pm?
7pm-9pm Dinner? (if not, see josie long or smutty songs)
9pm The Pajama Men: In the Middle of No One
10:30pm Dead Cat Bounce
Sunday
Bubblewrap and boxes (10:45) or Pop-Up! (11am)
Amazing bubble show (12.05–12.50pm)
Just a minute (1:30pm)
Comedy for kids (2:30)
4-5:10pm Potted Potter
5:30-6:30pm?
Josie long or smutty songs (7-8pm)
9pm military tattoo? (If not, idiots of ants at 8:30-9:30)
Rich hall (9:40)
Early night--train at 6am!
It's going to be a great weekend. :-)
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Paris photos
I just uploaded way too many photos of my mom in Paris. Mostly I did it because I finally have broadband again!
It's been a tortuous time, between moving, then deciding which service to go with, then getting someone out to hook me up. The Internet is a class C drug*. Fortunately, I haven't gone cold turkey -- both my phone and my laptop can access the Internet over 3g, but it's rather slow and can be quite expensive, so I've been metering my usage (ie not uploading large photos). Now I have a 10Mbps connection and unlimited data, and I'm taking full advantage!
I opted not to get a landline this time, and rely strictly on my Skype phone. I also didn't get cable TV, but decided to get a DVD player. However, I found it was cheaper to buy a used Playstation 3 off eBay, which has a built-in Blu-Ray DVD player! So I also bought a used copy of Grand Theft Auto IV, and at 6:30am this morning I was lobbing hand grenades at my brother in California. Technology is amazing.
So my flat is almost there; the only thing missing is wall art and maybe a few more houseplants. (I did have a minor setback in the bathroom -- the new toilet seat came loose, so I have to get another one. Of course, the guy installing the broadband, who was only here for 5 minutes, asked to use the loo, and I had to explain the toilet seat was broken. That was embarrassing!) I also need to pick up some Judaica items next time I'm in London.)
* In the UK, illicit drugs are categorized as class A, B, or C, depening on the harm done. So cocaine is class A; amphetamines are class B, and ketamine (a horse tranquilizer) is class C. (Marijuana is class B despite repeated attempts to move it to Class C, and last week there was discussion about making ketamine class B after it was found to be the fastest growing 'party drug' amongst 16-24 year olds.)
It's been a tortuous time, between moving, then deciding which service to go with, then getting someone out to hook me up. The Internet is a class C drug*. Fortunately, I haven't gone cold turkey -- both my phone and my laptop can access the Internet over 3g, but it's rather slow and can be quite expensive, so I've been metering my usage (ie not uploading large photos). Now I have a 10Mbps connection and unlimited data, and I'm taking full advantage!
I opted not to get a landline this time, and rely strictly on my Skype phone. I also didn't get cable TV, but decided to get a DVD player. However, I found it was cheaper to buy a used Playstation 3 off eBay, which has a built-in Blu-Ray DVD player! So I also bought a used copy of Grand Theft Auto IV, and at 6:30am this morning I was lobbing hand grenades at my brother in California. Technology is amazing.
So my flat is almost there; the only thing missing is wall art and maybe a few more houseplants. (I did have a minor setback in the bathroom -- the new toilet seat came loose, so I have to get another one. Of course, the guy installing the broadband, who was only here for 5 minutes, asked to use the loo, and I had to explain the toilet seat was broken. That was embarrassing!) I also need to pick up some Judaica items next time I'm in London.)
* In the UK, illicit drugs are categorized as class A, B, or C, depening on the harm done. So cocaine is class A; amphetamines are class B, and ketamine (a horse tranquilizer) is class C. (Marijuana is class B despite repeated attempts to move it to Class C, and last week there was discussion about making ketamine class B after it was found to be the fastest growing 'party drug' amongst 16-24 year olds.)
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
ADHD
It's a hot day in London (nearly 30C/86F!) so I took my coat off on the train, and promptly forgot it.
As soon as I got into the office, I googled lost property for First Great Western, and read that all lost property is sent to their Bristol office. Bristol is a 3 hour round-trip from my house! I may be visiting a friend in Cirencester this weekend, but Bristol is still an hour further--2 hours round-trip--just to pick up my coat. I didn't like the suit that much.
But then I remembered Bristol is where the balloon fiesta is held, so I googled that, and it's being held the 11th-14th of August, which is the same weekend I'm going to the Edinburgh fringe festival. Bristol and Edinburgh are probably the two largest cities in Great Britain that are the furthest from each other! In addition, I'd already bought my train tickets from Reading to Edinburgh, and changing it to go from Bristol would have almost doubled the cost.
But I was excited at seeing the balloons, and so some furious googling produced this itinerary:
- Reading to Bristol, Thursday the 11th, 16:57-18:14
- Balloon glow 9:30pm
- Mass ascent 6:00am, Friday the 12th
- Bristol to Reading 10:30-11:43
- Reading to Edinburgh 12:11-18:22
This was a brilliant plan, although not without cost:
- Reading to Bristol, £35 return
- Single room at Greenhouse B&B, £55
- Lost property charge, £3
That's £93 (US $152) -- a bit steep for my coat (I think the suit cost about the same), but I'd get to see a balloon glow and a mass ascent! How perfect was that?
So I decided to do it. The first step was to call First Great Western and report the loss, so I went back to their website to get the phone number, and that's when I found a small note at the bottom of the page:
As soon as I got into the office, I googled lost property for First Great Western, and read that all lost property is sent to their Bristol office. Bristol is a 3 hour round-trip from my house! I may be visiting a friend in Cirencester this weekend, but Bristol is still an hour further--2 hours round-trip--just to pick up my coat. I didn't like the suit that much.
But then I remembered Bristol is where the balloon fiesta is held, so I googled that, and it's being held the 11th-14th of August, which is the same weekend I'm going to the Edinburgh fringe festival. Bristol and Edinburgh are probably the two largest cities in Great Britain that are the furthest from each other! In addition, I'd already bought my train tickets from Reading to Edinburgh, and changing it to go from Bristol would have almost doubled the cost.
But I was excited at seeing the balloons, and so some furious googling produced this itinerary:
- Reading to Bristol, Thursday the 11th, 16:57-18:14
- Balloon glow 9:30pm
- Mass ascent 6:00am, Friday the 12th
- Bristol to Reading 10:30-11:43
- Reading to Edinburgh 12:11-18:22
This was a brilliant plan, although not without cost:
- Reading to Bristol, £35 return
- Single room at Greenhouse B&B, £55
- Lost property charge, £3
That's £93 (US $152) -- a bit steep for my coat (I think the suit cost about the same), but I'd get to see a balloon glow and a mass ascent! How perfect was that?
So I decided to do it. The first step was to call First Great Western and report the loss, so I went back to their website to get the phone number, and that's when I found a small note at the bottom of the page:
"For items that are left on trains terminating at Paddington, please contact Network Rail's Paddington Lost Property Office directly."
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Going home again
You know the old saying, you can't go home again. And in fact, for most of my life I've actively avoided doing just that: When a chapter closes, I move on. No looking back, no regrets. I'm not saying it was easy, but I knew trying to recapture something I had lost would only blind me to new experiences.
I violated that rule this week...twice. And I'm looking to do it again.
First, I bought a fish tank. As you may know, I got my first tank when I was 21, and three years later I had eleven tanks going, which was ridiculous in a 1-bed apartment! (In fact, my first blog was about my fish, which pre-dated the World Wide Web by about 3 years!) 15 years later, when I moved to Pennsylvania, I broke down all my tanks and sold everything, and decided as much as I enjoyed it, I would not keep fish again.
But when I moved into my flat in Reading, I immediately knew I wanted another tank. I couldn't say why; perhaps I was lonely, perhaps it was too quiet, or perhaps it was because I had just come back from LA, where fish had been a big part of my life. Whatever the reason, I looked at the online classifieds, found someone who was moving and couldn't take the fish with her, and ended up with a 40 gallon tank with five angelfish, a red-tailed shark, a couple of plecos, and an improbably large catfish. (The catfish has to go and I plan to introduce some schooling fish, probably neon tetras.)
Also in 2005, I had to give up playing contract bridge. Similiar to keeping fish, I couldn't explain why I found it so satisfying, but I really enjoyed it. However, I couldn't find anyone who even knew how to play bridge -- nevermind three -- and so I eventually gave up. However, in looking around at things to do, I found the Reading bridge club, and signed up. Yesterday I went to my first class, and it all came back to me. (Which was actually a bit of a problem, because English conventions are slightly different than American ones, so my partner was quite confused!) However, I loved it, and plan to go regularly.
For my next trick, I'm going to take up tennis again, although that isn't something I ever gave up, I just haven't been able to find the time or a partner. i also want to start going to yoga classes again--also not something I gave up on, just haven't been able to do for the past two years.
In addition to putting some structure around my life, these things will also keep me sane, help me integrate into my new community, and hopefully lead to some good friendships. So really I'm not trying to go home again, but making this my new home.
I violated that rule this week...twice. And I'm looking to do it again.
First, I bought a fish tank. As you may know, I got my first tank when I was 21, and three years later I had eleven tanks going, which was ridiculous in a 1-bed apartment! (In fact, my first blog was about my fish, which pre-dated the World Wide Web by about 3 years!) 15 years later, when I moved to Pennsylvania, I broke down all my tanks and sold everything, and decided as much as I enjoyed it, I would not keep fish again.
But when I moved into my flat in Reading, I immediately knew I wanted another tank. I couldn't say why; perhaps I was lonely, perhaps it was too quiet, or perhaps it was because I had just come back from LA, where fish had been a big part of my life. Whatever the reason, I looked at the online classifieds, found someone who was moving and couldn't take the fish with her, and ended up with a 40 gallon tank with five angelfish, a red-tailed shark, a couple of plecos, and an improbably large catfish. (The catfish has to go and I plan to introduce some schooling fish, probably neon tetras.)
Also in 2005, I had to give up playing contract bridge. Similiar to keeping fish, I couldn't explain why I found it so satisfying, but I really enjoyed it. However, I couldn't find anyone who even knew how to play bridge -- nevermind three -- and so I eventually gave up. However, in looking around at things to do, I found the Reading bridge club, and signed up. Yesterday I went to my first class, and it all came back to me. (Which was actually a bit of a problem, because English conventions are slightly different than American ones, so my partner was quite confused!) However, I loved it, and plan to go regularly.
For my next trick, I'm going to take up tennis again, although that isn't something I ever gave up, I just haven't been able to find the time or a partner. i also want to start going to yoga classes again--also not something I gave up on, just haven't been able to do for the past two years.
In addition to putting some structure around my life, these things will also keep me sane, help me integrate into my new community, and hopefully lead to some good friendships. So really I'm not trying to go home again, but making this my new home.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
The remains of the trip
My manic trip in LA was unbelievably depressing. It started as the plane landed, with a tight feeling in my gut that stayed with me all weekend. As I saw my old friends, my old home, my old haunts, my old stretch of beach, it just got tighter. Don't get me wrong, I loved seeing everyone, and only wish I'd more time to spend with them. But as I bid goodbye, with vague promises of coming again soon -- and petulant demands they come to London -- a sense of loss flooded over me. It had been a good time in my life, a stable and comfortable time, and I missed it.
With 11 moves in 5 years, I realized I had no idea what "home" felt like any more.
Sunday, I drove from Los Angeles to San Diego, then flew to Sacramento, where my sister-in-law picked me up. Even though it was 9pm and I was exhausted, she wanted to go to a karaoke bar to play pool. Fortunately I convinced her to take me to dinner instead.
In the morning, my mother woke me complaining about the "clutter" I left on the coffee table. I pointed out I left the clutter there because I was sleeping on the sofa. I was sleeping on the sofa because my sister was sleeping in the guest bed. She had moved in a year ago after losing her job, which I could understand. That she had moved her boyfriend in, as well, I was having a little trouble with. That they were both now working but hadn't moved out, weren't paying rent, and weren't helping around the house was also a little frustrating.
After I made breakfast, my mother pointed to a large inflatable pool she had bought and gave me a small hand air pump. "You're taking the piss," I said, forgetting that was a rather rude (and incomprehensible) thing to say in the States. All week I found myself mentally translating from English to American, which was a funny feeling after spending so much time translating the other way. Fortunately, her neighbor had a compressor.
I didn't actually spend much time with my mother -- after all, she was coming to London a week after I returned. The timing was kind of odd; I had been planning on visting in May, for my nieces' birthdays, but work had postponed that trip. With my breakup from Jess, she was kind enough to let me fly on her concessions one last time -- so this trip cost me US $300, and my next trip will probably cost me over US $1000.
But I did spend as much time with my nieces as possible, and they were wonderful. They laughed, they cried, they screamed, they got mad at me, they forgave me, they drove me to the edge, and I loved it. i can't possibly explain why, no matter how annoying they are, you love them anyway. Actually, i feel that way about my entire family.
And I suppose they feel the same way about me. Coming and going like a whirlwind, reorganizing my mother's house every time i'm there, winding everyone up and then disappearing for months on end. They deal with my mood swings, and aren't surprised when they're the last ones to find out something about me. And I know no matter what happens, they still love me.
So i left California even more depressed than I started, but resigned to my life in London. After all, I had a job, and two more years to go before I qualified for 'indefinite leave to remain' -- if I left England now, I woudn't be able to move back. And besides, while I was in the States, my offer on the flat in Reading was accepted, and I wa able to move in the next day. But that's another story...
With 11 moves in 5 years, I realized I had no idea what "home" felt like any more.
Sunday, I drove from Los Angeles to San Diego, then flew to Sacramento, where my sister-in-law picked me up. Even though it was 9pm and I was exhausted, she wanted to go to a karaoke bar to play pool. Fortunately I convinced her to take me to dinner instead.
In the morning, my mother woke me complaining about the "clutter" I left on the coffee table. I pointed out I left the clutter there because I was sleeping on the sofa. I was sleeping on the sofa because my sister was sleeping in the guest bed. She had moved in a year ago after losing her job, which I could understand. That she had moved her boyfriend in, as well, I was having a little trouble with. That they were both now working but hadn't moved out, weren't paying rent, and weren't helping around the house was also a little frustrating.
After I made breakfast, my mother pointed to a large inflatable pool she had bought and gave me a small hand air pump. "You're taking the piss," I said, forgetting that was a rather rude (and incomprehensible) thing to say in the States. All week I found myself mentally translating from English to American, which was a funny feeling after spending so much time translating the other way. Fortunately, her neighbor had a compressor.
I didn't actually spend much time with my mother -- after all, she was coming to London a week after I returned. The timing was kind of odd; I had been planning on visting in May, for my nieces' birthdays, but work had postponed that trip. With my breakup from Jess, she was kind enough to let me fly on her concessions one last time -- so this trip cost me US $300, and my next trip will probably cost me over US $1000.
But I did spend as much time with my nieces as possible, and they were wonderful. They laughed, they cried, they screamed, they got mad at me, they forgave me, they drove me to the edge, and I loved it. i can't possibly explain why, no matter how annoying they are, you love them anyway. Actually, i feel that way about my entire family.
And I suppose they feel the same way about me. Coming and going like a whirlwind, reorganizing my mother's house every time i'm there, winding everyone up and then disappearing for months on end. They deal with my mood swings, and aren't surprised when they're the last ones to find out something about me. And I know no matter what happens, they still love me.
So i left California even more depressed than I started, but resigned to my life in London. After all, I had a job, and two more years to go before I qualified for 'indefinite leave to remain' -- if I left England now, I woudn't be able to move back. And besides, while I was in the States, my offer on the flat in Reading was accepted, and I wa able to move in the next day. But that's another story...
My trip so far
I arrived Saturday night at 9pm as planned, to find all lights off and everyone asleep. I let myself in (they don't lock the doors and the dog is worthless), brushed my teeth, and went to bed. 5 minutes later, Barbara comes into the room, yells at me that I was early, then yells at me that I'm in the wrong bedroom. After telling her several times I was fine, I finally gave in and moved to the other bedroom.
George woke me at 6am in the morning by yelling in my ear, "Are you awake?" I got up and listened to them both tell me how they get up every 2 hours because they are insomniacs, so they have a cup of coffee and go back to bed. I wrote "decaf coffee" on the shopping list.
They spent the entire morning telling my how the neighbor, Karen, keeps coming over and drinking 4 or 5 cans of beer, and how much this upsets them. I tell them they just have to say no. In the afternoon. the neighbor, Karen, comes over and asks for a beer, and Barbara tells her "no." I think everything is fine and then George says, "Come on, just one beer." Karen proceeds to help herself to four beers in an hour, and staggers home. That evening, she calls to see if she can come over, and Barbara tells her "no." Karen proceeds to come over anyway, and Barbara tells us not to answer the door. This seems childish but I agree, and Karen proceeds to ring the doorbell about 10 times before George answers the door and invites her to sleep on the sofa. Fortunately, her partner came and got her. I find out later the only reason she was over at George and Barbara's is because the shops aren't allowed to sell alcohol on Sundays; otherwise she would have walked to the gas station. (She can't drive; she has two DUIs and they took away her license.)
Sunday is 94 degrees. So are Monday and Tuesday. It's absolutely miserable, and they don't have air conditioning. That's not entirely true--they had central air but that broke down four years ago, so they installed window air conditioners in two bedrooms, but one of those was taken out by an electrical surge last September, literally the day after my last visit. ( It also destroyed the oven, the microwave, the dishwasher, two televisions, one phone, a clock, and the computer. Needless to say, the power company said they weren't responsible, and the insurance company said they weren't covered.)
The remaining air conditioner was in the third bedroom -- the one I was ordered to sleep in -- but I refused to turn it on, just to see how hard it was to sleep at night. It turned out to be impossible, and I'm 41 -- my uncle is 85. I begged them to let me move the air conditioner into their room, but they insisted they have air conditioning for guests, of which they get about two per year, and it's usually me. So I bought a new air conditioner, and installed it in their bedroom. For some reason, they were okay with that. Mostly they're happy because the dog -- a large black lab -- doesn't like the heat.
A friend had fixed the computer a few months ago but George hadn't used it because he couldn't remember how to turn it on, even though I had left very clear instructions, and I mailed him a copy of the instructions, both of which I found sitting next to the computer. I wanted to get him used to using the computer again, so I called my mom and scheduled an online Scrabble match for Monday morning. George was quite excited, so it was really hard to tell him when my mom didn't show up. Tuesday she was busy, Wednesday we were busy, so maybe we'll have one match on Thursday. Hopefully that will be enough.
On Monday evening, Bobby from the Appliance Repair Center came by to look at the stove and dishwasher. The stove had been fried -- pardon the pun -- and replacing the controller board would cost almost as much as a new stove, so there wasn't much point there. The dishwasher, however, was working fine, it just wasn't draining. When Bobby cleared the drain, he found shards of glass which had destroyed the impeller, and replacing that cost $245! I went ahead and paid, not because they need the convenience of a dishwasher, but because the previous day I had watched my uncle finish a bowl of cereal, rinse it, and then put it back in the cupboard, declaring it clean. It still had bits of cereal and milk in it.
The next day, I also saw my aunt throw away a glass that had cracked, and my uncle fetched it out of the trash and tried to put it in the dishwasher. My aunt stopped him this time, but I suspect it won't be long before the dishwasher needs a new impeller.
For the stove, I took them to the Discount Appliance Outlet, which sells refurbished appliances However, Barbara wasn't interested in the stove at all, but was eyeballing a refrigerator because, even though her current one works fine. she hates having a side-by-side, and the seal is a bit tattered which is allowing mildew to grow along the edge. I thought, that's crazy to spend $187 on a fridge, and asked how much a new seal would be. They said $70 plus installation. Per door. Suddenly $187 doesn't sound so bad! I'm still thinking about it.
Tuesday afternoon, Jim stopped by. He delivers meals to George and Barbara every other week, for his church, and on one of these visits George apparently complained to him about the state of the den. George complained to me as well, but I ignored it because they never use the den. It's a converted garage, it's not comfortable, there is nothing in it besides a sofa and an ironing board, and the only reason they go in it at all is to leave via the side door, because if they use the front door the dog pushes his way past and escapes. The side door, however, is exposed to the elements, and some water leaked through and discolored the paint. When the neighbor took off the door trim to repaint, he found evidence of termites, and so he left the door trim off until the termites were dealt with. That was two years ago.
So Jim, being an unnaturally nice person (and I've met quite a few in this area), came by and spackled the wall, repainted the door, and replaced the molding (no easy feat considering the original molding had long been lost). He also repaired the soffits, cleaned the exterior wood, and even dusted all the cobwebs. (Did I mention they never use the den?) He worked for 3 hours in the 94 degree heat, and his shirt was soaked through. My aunt and uncle didn't thank him, because they thought I had hired him.
I also met Jim's partner, Linda, who is starting a new business called "helping hands" or "extra hands" or "extra helping hands" -- I don't really know. Barbara was complaining earlier that day that she couldn't mop the floors because it hurt her back, and so I was talking to Linda about coming once a month to help Barbara do what she couldn't. Linda was really sweet and I thought everything was fine; we just needed to pick a day, but by then Barbara had locked herself in the bedroom. Linda said she'd call to schedule it, but that nightI heard Barbara yelling at George that she kept the house clean and didn't need any help. George told her that when Linda called, he would thank her and let her know they didn't need any help. I'm sure they were trying to be clever and sneaky, but when one of them is deaf and they have to yell at each other, it doesn't always work. I haven't figured out how to handle it yet. You would think they would be grateful for my help, but they fight me every step of the way.
For example, the Barrow County Senior Center. It's an ambulatory day care facility which is funded entirely by the state, and they provide transportation, lunch, a pool table, exercise classes, etc. for free to anyone over the age of 60. It's a nice, quiet, air conditioned place to socialize for four hours, whenever they want. I discovered this on my last visit, but I needed to make an appointment to register, and they couldn't do it until the day after I left. Their friend Paul offered to drive George over but when he arrived that morning, George refused to go.
I don't take no so readily, so on Wednesday I got George signed up, but he is already telling me he won't go, because he doesn't' like talking to strangers. Which is odd, because whenever we go someplace he will spend hours talking to strangers. He is absolutely starved for contact, but at 85 doesn't really see himself fitting in with "those old farts," even though his favorite topic are his medical conditions.
His second favorite topic at the moment is "Law and Order," the TV series. That's because the USA channel plays it 24 hours a day, and they watch is 24 hours a day, although lately they've been watching the live "Casey Anthony" murder trial, as well. After the third time he tried to engage me in a serious discussion about the acting talents of one of the lead characters, I yelled at him that I didn't care about Law and Order. I must have hurt his feelings, because he's only brought it up twice since.
We also went to see the doctor, who is on a first name basis with George. It was the typical affair -- had an appointment for 11am, waited in the lobby until 12:30, saw the doctor for 10 minutes, and left with a prescription for three medications, on top of of the nine George is already taking. George, who had been complaining of his prostate for three days, suddenly became very sheepish in front of the doctor, and what had been "hurting like hell" was now "a little bothersome." The doctor was suprised to find George was no longer taking the prescription for his prostate he had previously given, and gave him another one. I suspect this is very common, as George is seeing three specialists for various problems, and no one coordinates anything. It does make you wonder how other seniors are coping.
In the evening, I took George and Barbara to celebrate their 45th wedding anniversary. We went to "Fatz Cafe," which seems unfortunately named--or possibly appropriately named--in the south, where most of the people are on the "plus" side of the scale. The very far side. I have to say, having lived in London for three years, I've really started hating coming back to America -- as soon as the plane lands, the aisles are full of loud, fat, annoying people. And the roads are full of ridiculously large vehicles either travelling at 90mph in the slow lane, or 50mph in the fast lane. And everything is a drive-through: Food, ATMs, prescriptions. Why do they still have six-acre parking lots when most people won't even get out of their car?
So that is my vacation so far. Tomorrow I have to run down to Home Depot to get some pink paint to finish the den, get back in time to set up the scrabble game, pack, go to the post office to mail a 6 oz tube of cream to my mother so I don't have to check my bag at the airport (which would cost $25!), call someone about steam cleaning their upholstery so it doesn't smell like the black lab, leave for the airport by 3 and pray I don't get stuck in traffic.
Then I've got three manic days in LA before I go to Sacramento to see my family, and it's supposed to be 97 degrees there.
George woke me at 6am in the morning by yelling in my ear, "Are you awake?" I got up and listened to them both tell me how they get up every 2 hours because they are insomniacs, so they have a cup of coffee and go back to bed. I wrote "decaf coffee" on the shopping list.
They spent the entire morning telling my how the neighbor, Karen, keeps coming over and drinking 4 or 5 cans of beer, and how much this upsets them. I tell them they just have to say no. In the afternoon. the neighbor, Karen, comes over and asks for a beer, and Barbara tells her "no." I think everything is fine and then George says, "Come on, just one beer." Karen proceeds to help herself to four beers in an hour, and staggers home. That evening, she calls to see if she can come over, and Barbara tells her "no." Karen proceeds to come over anyway, and Barbara tells us not to answer the door. This seems childish but I agree, and Karen proceeds to ring the doorbell about 10 times before George answers the door and invites her to sleep on the sofa. Fortunately, her partner came and got her. I find out later the only reason she was over at George and Barbara's is because the shops aren't allowed to sell alcohol on Sundays; otherwise she would have walked to the gas station. (She can't drive; she has two DUIs and they took away her license.)
Sunday is 94 degrees. So are Monday and Tuesday. It's absolutely miserable, and they don't have air conditioning. That's not entirely true--they had central air but that broke down four years ago, so they installed window air conditioners in two bedrooms, but one of those was taken out by an electrical surge last September, literally the day after my last visit. ( It also destroyed the oven, the microwave, the dishwasher, two televisions, one phone, a clock, and the computer. Needless to say, the power company said they weren't responsible, and the insurance company said they weren't covered.)
The remaining air conditioner was in the third bedroom -- the one I was ordered to sleep in -- but I refused to turn it on, just to see how hard it was to sleep at night. It turned out to be impossible, and I'm 41 -- my uncle is 85. I begged them to let me move the air conditioner into their room, but they insisted they have air conditioning for guests, of which they get about two per year, and it's usually me. So I bought a new air conditioner, and installed it in their bedroom. For some reason, they were okay with that. Mostly they're happy because the dog -- a large black lab -- doesn't like the heat.
A friend had fixed the computer a few months ago but George hadn't used it because he couldn't remember how to turn it on, even though I had left very clear instructions, and I mailed him a copy of the instructions, both of which I found sitting next to the computer. I wanted to get him used to using the computer again, so I called my mom and scheduled an online Scrabble match for Monday morning. George was quite excited, so it was really hard to tell him when my mom didn't show up. Tuesday she was busy, Wednesday we were busy, so maybe we'll have one match on Thursday. Hopefully that will be enough.
On Monday evening, Bobby from the Appliance Repair Center came by to look at the stove and dishwasher. The stove had been fried -- pardon the pun -- and replacing the controller board would cost almost as much as a new stove, so there wasn't much point there. The dishwasher, however, was working fine, it just wasn't draining. When Bobby cleared the drain, he found shards of glass which had destroyed the impeller, and replacing that cost $245! I went ahead and paid, not because they need the convenience of a dishwasher, but because the previous day I had watched my uncle finish a bowl of cereal, rinse it, and then put it back in the cupboard, declaring it clean. It still had bits of cereal and milk in it.
The next day, I also saw my aunt throw away a glass that had cracked, and my uncle fetched it out of the trash and tried to put it in the dishwasher. My aunt stopped him this time, but I suspect it won't be long before the dishwasher needs a new impeller.
For the stove, I took them to the Discount Appliance Outlet, which sells refurbished appliances However, Barbara wasn't interested in the stove at all, but was eyeballing a refrigerator because, even though her current one works fine. she hates having a side-by-side, and the seal is a bit tattered which is allowing mildew to grow along the edge. I thought, that's crazy to spend $187 on a fridge, and asked how much a new seal would be. They said $70 plus installation. Per door. Suddenly $187 doesn't sound so bad! I'm still thinking about it.
Tuesday afternoon, Jim stopped by. He delivers meals to George and Barbara every other week, for his church, and on one of these visits George apparently complained to him about the state of the den. George complained to me as well, but I ignored it because they never use the den. It's a converted garage, it's not comfortable, there is nothing in it besides a sofa and an ironing board, and the only reason they go in it at all is to leave via the side door, because if they use the front door the dog pushes his way past and escapes. The side door, however, is exposed to the elements, and some water leaked through and discolored the paint. When the neighbor took off the door trim to repaint, he found evidence of termites, and so he left the door trim off until the termites were dealt with. That was two years ago.
So Jim, being an unnaturally nice person (and I've met quite a few in this area), came by and spackled the wall, repainted the door, and replaced the molding (no easy feat considering the original molding had long been lost). He also repaired the soffits, cleaned the exterior wood, and even dusted all the cobwebs. (Did I mention they never use the den?) He worked for 3 hours in the 94 degree heat, and his shirt was soaked through. My aunt and uncle didn't thank him, because they thought I had hired him.
I also met Jim's partner, Linda, who is starting a new business called "helping hands" or "extra hands" or "extra helping hands" -- I don't really know. Barbara was complaining earlier that day that she couldn't mop the floors because it hurt her back, and so I was talking to Linda about coming once a month to help Barbara do what she couldn't. Linda was really sweet and I thought everything was fine; we just needed to pick a day, but by then Barbara had locked herself in the bedroom. Linda said she'd call to schedule it, but that nightI heard Barbara yelling at George that she kept the house clean and didn't need any help. George told her that when Linda called, he would thank her and let her know they didn't need any help. I'm sure they were trying to be clever and sneaky, but when one of them is deaf and they have to yell at each other, it doesn't always work. I haven't figured out how to handle it yet. You would think they would be grateful for my help, but they fight me every step of the way.
For example, the Barrow County Senior Center. It's an ambulatory day care facility which is funded entirely by the state, and they provide transportation, lunch, a pool table, exercise classes, etc. for free to anyone over the age of 60. It's a nice, quiet, air conditioned place to socialize for four hours, whenever they want. I discovered this on my last visit, but I needed to make an appointment to register, and they couldn't do it until the day after I left. Their friend Paul offered to drive George over but when he arrived that morning, George refused to go.
I don't take no so readily, so on Wednesday I got George signed up, but he is already telling me he won't go, because he doesn't' like talking to strangers. Which is odd, because whenever we go someplace he will spend hours talking to strangers. He is absolutely starved for contact, but at 85 doesn't really see himself fitting in with "those old farts," even though his favorite topic are his medical conditions.
His second favorite topic at the moment is "Law and Order," the TV series. That's because the USA channel plays it 24 hours a day, and they watch is 24 hours a day, although lately they've been watching the live "Casey Anthony" murder trial, as well. After the third time he tried to engage me in a serious discussion about the acting talents of one of the lead characters, I yelled at him that I didn't care about Law and Order. I must have hurt his feelings, because he's only brought it up twice since.
We also went to see the doctor, who is on a first name basis with George. It was the typical affair -- had an appointment for 11am, waited in the lobby until 12:30, saw the doctor for 10 minutes, and left with a prescription for three medications, on top of of the nine George is already taking. George, who had been complaining of his prostate for three days, suddenly became very sheepish in front of the doctor, and what had been "hurting like hell" was now "a little bothersome." The doctor was suprised to find George was no longer taking the prescription for his prostate he had previously given, and gave him another one. I suspect this is very common, as George is seeing three specialists for various problems, and no one coordinates anything. It does make you wonder how other seniors are coping.
In the evening, I took George and Barbara to celebrate their 45th wedding anniversary. We went to "Fatz Cafe," which seems unfortunately named--or possibly appropriately named--in the south, where most of the people are on the "plus" side of the scale. The very far side. I have to say, having lived in London for three years, I've really started hating coming back to America -- as soon as the plane lands, the aisles are full of loud, fat, annoying people. And the roads are full of ridiculously large vehicles either travelling at 90mph in the slow lane, or 50mph in the fast lane. And everything is a drive-through: Food, ATMs, prescriptions. Why do they still have six-acre parking lots when most people won't even get out of their car?
So that is my vacation so far. Tomorrow I have to run down to Home Depot to get some pink paint to finish the den, get back in time to set up the scrabble game, pack, go to the post office to mail a 6 oz tube of cream to my mother so I don't have to check my bag at the airport (which would cost $25!), call someone about steam cleaning their upholstery so it doesn't smell like the black lab, leave for the airport by 3 and pray I don't get stuck in traffic.
Then I've got three manic days in LA before I go to Sacramento to see my family, and it's supposed to be 97 degrees there.
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