We Love the '90s?: Someone I have known since she was a little girl recently posted on Facebook: "Please just let me go back to the '90s." This was odd to me since she is in her early 20s and would have been a child then. Another 20-ish person responded with "Best years of my life," to which the reply was "Better music, better clothes, better people, better everything!" Usually if you are hit with nostalgia it is for your 20s not in them. There's probably an essay in that about how making childhood too good for your kids causes depression in their 20s. (I would never write so dumb a thing, but I could see such an idiotic idea making the rounds in the more thoughtless media outlets.) The big suggestion that came from this Facebook conversation was to watch Portlandia, where the dream of the '90s is alive.
This stood out for me because it dovetailed with a book review I had just read for America Between the Wars: From 11/9 to 9/11, by Derek Chollet and James Goldgeier. I haven't read the book and I won't since it is a political review of the times and I work hard to purge all politics from my life, but I gather from the review that the argument is that the time from the fall of the Berlin Wall (the end of the Cold War) in 1989 to 9/11 (the start of the War on Terror) was a formative time. Events during that decade-ish presaged a shift from the old world -- the final vestiges of the 20th century and the us/them world of WW1/WW2/Cold War to the world of Whatever-Today-Is-I-Sure-Don't-Know. They were the calm before the storm of chaos in which we live. I suppose...
So what is to be the final reputation of the 90s? Apparently it was good for kids since they miss it so. The economy was in boom -- a lot of people made, and spent, a lot of money. Crime was dropping over most of the country. No wars -- well, there was the Gulf War but that was over in a couple of months, and Somalia, but that never made the headlines so no one noticed. Nouveau hippiedom -- also called hipsterism -- was in full bloom. Sounds like paradise.
Then how come we didn't notice how happy we all were as it was happening? That's an easy question. We never notice. I have come to the conclusion that the bulk of people in the Western world are, in fact, quite happy -- they just can't see it. The real question is how come we never learn? As I remember the '90s, we were convinced that everything was awful and there was no hope and we were living in terrifying times. Just like we were in the '70s and the '80s and now. The newspapers and opinion pages were loaded with dire misgivings. Just like today. We were certain civilization was in a death spiral of moral weakness and consumerism. Just like today. Environmental calamity was right around the corner. Just like today. We never stop misunderstanding what we see around us, which is just human nature. But we also never learn to accept that it is likely that we are misunderstanding what we see around us. We never stop to say, "Wait. Every other time I felt like this I was wrong. Maybe I'll tone down the shrill hand-wringing this time." We just replay our delusions over and over. I can only assume they comfort us somehow.
I have to admit the '90s did set the stage for my adult life. It was the time I transitioned to full adulthood from my extended post-college childhood. I started working for the company I still work for 20 years later. Moved to my beloved adopted home town of Dexter, MI, where I still live. Bought my first home and am now on my second. Joined a gym and started paying attention to my health which I still obsess over. Wrote my first novel. (Apple Pie came out in late 1999. Oh, so long ago.) It would be followed by two more and I still hope to increase that number. I early adopted the Internet and now it dominates all our lives. It was also when TV started its trajectory to greatness (Seinfeld, Buffy, Northern Exposure, Freaks and Geeks, culminating in The Sopranos) which continues to enrich us culturally.
Then everything stopped. I have previously argued that by the turn of the century the rate of cultural change had slowed to almost zero. My hobby horse examples are the movies American Graffiti and Dazed and Confused. American Graffiti came out in 1973 and was a nostalgic look back at 1962. After eleven years, the world had changed so much as to be unrecognizable. Dazed and Confused came out in 1993 and was a nostalgic look at 1976 -- 13 years and it was a new world. Today, if you look back 11, or 13, or even 15 years back, everything would look pretty much the same. No one would be carrying a smartphone, but aside from that the end of the '90s would look pretty much identical to today. Clothes, hairstyles, music, humor -- the differences between then and now are trivial and superficial.
So I guess you can't blame anyone for '90s nostalgia. It was the last chance anyone will get to look back on a different world. Nostalgia is dead. Generation Z will never know a world that was different than their own.
Thursday, July 04, 2013
[Rant] Tellin' Stories
Tellin' Stories: Robin Hanson posted an excerpt from Elements of Fiction Writing, by Orson Scott Card, the successful science fiction writer. He highlights Card's description of the four elements of every story: milieu, idea, character, and event. All stories contain these four elements in some combination.
Leo Tolstoy once said "All great literature is one of two stories; a man goes on a journey or a stranger comes to town." I would have replied there really is only one story. A stranger coming to town is only interesting because it sends a man on a journey. But the point of that is that the change in a person if only thing that matters. It's all about character; about enlightening an aspect of a human that causes interest.
Card, it seems, thinks that belief is recent to the 20th century:
Hanson chimes in to suggest our elevation of character stories it is a by-product of rising incomes:
I still worry about that premise -- that the great stories aren't just about character. I'm just not sure it's correct. Perhaps I am too deeply attached to my own bias. Let's take a close-to-home look.
Every Sunday night or the past few weeks, Game of Thrones and Mad Men have been on back-to-back. Mad Men is one of the most character focused shows (stories) ever produced. Sure, the milieu (the '60s) is important, but the specific events are almost irrelevant. There is no question the point of the exercise is following the development and interaction of extraordinarily complete and realistic characters. Game of Thrones is all about events. Again, milieu (Westros, etc.) is important but the bulk of the story is about the events that happen -- a sort of live look into a timeline. Characters have some shading, which is good, but no development. My main critique of GoT is that it doesn't go anywhere. Everyone is moved around like pieces on a chessboard but with no larger idea behind it. Things happen, but they are only important because they lead to the next thing that happens. Attention is held but nothing is enlightened.
Tangent: It's fun (for me anyway) to apply this "four pillars" concept to some the great TV shows. The Sopranos was a combo of character and idea, the idea being how deep our self-delusion run. Deadwood I would say idea mostly idea (how does barbarism become civilization?) with character a close second. The Wire Started out as idea (institutions as vengeful deities) and character but I would argue it became events based as it aged and lost it's edge.
What about the paragon himself, Shakespeare? Nothing more highbrow than that, amirite? Characters are memorable but the arcs are not all that sophisticated. He leans on good versus evil instead of grey versus grey. I'd call him an events guy in the main. Of course, the poetry is what counts here, not the story.
Perhaps it's more a matter of goals. If you believe the highest form of story is one that enlightens, then I don't see how you get away from character as your focus, most likely in some combo with idea. Events and Milieu are interesting but can only be enlightening if they affect people or ideas.
But who (apart from George Bernard Shaw) would suggest Shakespeare's stories were inadequate? Or, as Card suggested, Lord of the Rings? They are great stories with less than complete attention to character. It's clear that in terms of effect on the reader (listener? consumer?) these stories are second to none. I have to grudgingly agree with Card and Hanson. I (and it seems We) have probably shortchanged non-character focused stories, but I still don't think they move beyond their value as mere stories without a character focus of some sort. Perhaps I am too busy trying to differentiate great stories from art.
Leo Tolstoy once said "All great literature is one of two stories; a man goes on a journey or a stranger comes to town." I would have replied there really is only one story. A stranger coming to town is only interesting because it sends a man on a journey. But the point of that is that the change in a person if only thing that matters. It's all about character; about enlightening an aspect of a human that causes interest.
Card, it seems, thinks that belief is recent to the 20th century:
Character stories really came into their own at the beginning of the twentieth century, and both the novelty and the extraordinary brilliance of some of the writers who worked with this story structure have lead many critics and teachers to believe that only this kind of story can be "good."As an example, he offers Lord or the Rings, which is a story based mostly on milieu. Ideas, Character, and Plot are shallow and inconsistent. Yet it is still great (according to Card and most other people).
Hanson chimes in to suggest our elevation of character stories it is a by-product of rising incomes:
Rich self-indulgent folks are more likely to be obsessed with their own internal feelings, and our wealth has allowed us the slack to often have dramatically dysfunctional character features.And adds later:
It is also pretty plausible that increasing density, size, and specialization has only recently created a niche for cognitive elites to write for other cognitive elites, which let writers focus on impressing such elites. Impressively realistic character stories are mostly impressive to other cognitive elites, and much less so to ordinary readers.Which is the sort of off-the-cuff Hansonian analysis that rings true, given the premise. Although I suspect all writing in any age has been geared to cognitive elites. At least those elite enough to read. But then we are talking about stories generically, not specifically writing.
I still worry about that premise -- that the great stories aren't just about character. I'm just not sure it's correct. Perhaps I am too deeply attached to my own bias. Let's take a close-to-home look.
Every Sunday night or the past few weeks, Game of Thrones and Mad Men have been on back-to-back. Mad Men is one of the most character focused shows (stories) ever produced. Sure, the milieu (the '60s) is important, but the specific events are almost irrelevant. There is no question the point of the exercise is following the development and interaction of extraordinarily complete and realistic characters. Game of Thrones is all about events. Again, milieu (Westros, etc.) is important but the bulk of the story is about the events that happen -- a sort of live look into a timeline. Characters have some shading, which is good, but no development. My main critique of GoT is that it doesn't go anywhere. Everyone is moved around like pieces on a chessboard but with no larger idea behind it. Things happen, but they are only important because they lead to the next thing that happens. Attention is held but nothing is enlightened.
Tangent: It's fun (for me anyway) to apply this "four pillars" concept to some the great TV shows. The Sopranos was a combo of character and idea, the idea being how deep our self-delusion run. Deadwood I would say idea mostly idea (how does barbarism become civilization?) with character a close second. The Wire Started out as idea (institutions as vengeful deities) and character but I would argue it became events based as it aged and lost it's edge.
What about the paragon himself, Shakespeare? Nothing more highbrow than that, amirite? Characters are memorable but the arcs are not all that sophisticated. He leans on good versus evil instead of grey versus grey. I'd call him an events guy in the main. Of course, the poetry is what counts here, not the story.
Perhaps it's more a matter of goals. If you believe the highest form of story is one that enlightens, then I don't see how you get away from character as your focus, most likely in some combo with idea. Events and Milieu are interesting but can only be enlightening if they affect people or ideas.
But who (apart from George Bernard Shaw) would suggest Shakespeare's stories were inadequate? Or, as Card suggested, Lord of the Rings? They are great stories with less than complete attention to character. It's clear that in terms of effect on the reader (listener? consumer?) these stories are second to none. I have to grudgingly agree with Card and Hanson. I (and it seems We) have probably shortchanged non-character focused stories, but I still don't think they move beyond their value as mere stories without a character focus of some sort. Perhaps I am too busy trying to differentiate great stories from art.
[Movies] Going Attractions - June Releases
Going Attractions: June Releases - Just like last month, these are the big time films that came out in June. I will see precisely zero of these in the theatre, but I will happily speculate on whether I will catch them on cable.
Man of Steel -- Never met a Superman movie that was worth a damn. Although I do remember a couple of humorous moments in the second Christopher Reeve film. The plane rescue in the previous reboot was pretty good. The two-part Mole Men episode in the Superman TV series from the '50s was about as good as TV sci-fi got at the time (I'm guessing -- it was 9 years before my existence). That's about all the good I have to say about Superman. I was a Marvel Comics kid, not DC, so even then I didn't cotton to the Big S. I thought the movie Hollywoodland about the rise and fall of George Reeves (the '50s TV Superman) was well done for the most part, even to point of liking Ben Affleck in it. Of course, the real enduring legacy of Superman is that it made Jerry Seinfeld want a girlfriend named Lois so much he raced Duncan Meyer. Until then, He Chose Not To Run!
So, no. I doubt I'll watch it.
This is the End -- Whoa, what a concept. Endless self-referential irony in a movie that is 100% cameos. Future film historians will look back on this movie as the pinnacle of Hollywood post-modern comedy. It's absurd to even offer an opinion. Better to offer a sneering review of the opinion along with droll some meta commentary. Still, Seth Rogen's posse can be pretty funny so I'll likely watch it. Hell, if I could zone out to Hot Tub Time Machine I can zone out to this.
The Purge -- Negative. The only thing I want to know is at what point Landru shows up. (If you got that reference you are true geek. Respect.)
World War Z -- As much as I admire Brad Pitt's work, there is only so much you can do with zombies, what with their deceased nature. Don't get me wrong, I love zombies, per se. They are the ultimate video game cannon fodder; the new nazis in Castle Wolfenstein, if you will. And you can pretty much do anything you want with them with moral impunity because they are already dead (necrophilia aside). But you just know someone is going to come along and humanize them. Have a pretty girl fall in love one in defiance of her parents. We'll have a zombie rom-com. Then it will be over. We'll have to find new target for a advanced lasers and plasma pulse weapons, never mind plain old chainsaws. Cuz they'll have rights. Wait. You say it's been done? Crap. What's left now? Orcs? Skrulls? So I guess this film is the last hurrah of traditional zombies as nothing but a gore source. I suppose I'll watch it if I happen to stumble upon it while channel surfing, before they ban it for being offensive to the living dead. Civilization continues to decline.
Man of Steel -- Never met a Superman movie that was worth a damn. Although I do remember a couple of humorous moments in the second Christopher Reeve film. The plane rescue in the previous reboot was pretty good. The two-part Mole Men episode in the Superman TV series from the '50s was about as good as TV sci-fi got at the time (I'm guessing -- it was 9 years before my existence). That's about all the good I have to say about Superman. I was a Marvel Comics kid, not DC, so even then I didn't cotton to the Big S. I thought the movie Hollywoodland about the rise and fall of George Reeves (the '50s TV Superman) was well done for the most part, even to point of liking Ben Affleck in it. Of course, the real enduring legacy of Superman is that it made Jerry Seinfeld want a girlfriend named Lois so much he raced Duncan Meyer. Until then, He Chose Not To Run!
So, no. I doubt I'll watch it.
This is the End -- Whoa, what a concept. Endless self-referential irony in a movie that is 100% cameos. Future film historians will look back on this movie as the pinnacle of Hollywood post-modern comedy. It's absurd to even offer an opinion. Better to offer a sneering review of the opinion along with droll some meta commentary. Still, Seth Rogen's posse can be pretty funny so I'll likely watch it. Hell, if I could zone out to Hot Tub Time Machine I can zone out to this.
The Purge -- Negative. The only thing I want to know is at what point Landru shows up. (If you got that reference you are true geek. Respect.)
World War Z -- As much as I admire Brad Pitt's work, there is only so much you can do with zombies, what with their deceased nature. Don't get me wrong, I love zombies, per se. They are the ultimate video game cannon fodder; the new nazis in Castle Wolfenstein, if you will. And you can pretty much do anything you want with them with moral impunity because they are already dead (necrophilia aside). But you just know someone is going to come along and humanize them. Have a pretty girl fall in love one in defiance of her parents. We'll have a zombie rom-com. Then it will be over. We'll have to find new target for a advanced lasers and plasma pulse weapons, never mind plain old chainsaws. Cuz they'll have rights. Wait. You say it's been done? Crap. What's left now? Orcs? Skrulls? So I guess this film is the last hurrah of traditional zombies as nothing but a gore source. I suppose I'll watch it if I happen to stumble upon it while channel surfing, before they ban it for being offensive to the living dead. Civilization continues to decline.
[Detroit] Murder and Hockey
Murder and Hockey: A new description of how bad things are in Detroit -- yeah, I'm at it again -- includes this wonderful line: "...there were 344 murders in 2011, of which just 39 were solved." Maybe Detroit is the new Juarez. Seriously, that sounds like something pretty close to anarchy. It's a wonder murderers from all across the globe don't dump bodies along Cass Corridor knowing full well that no one'll will ever get around to looking into the case. But we still want a new hockey stadium. Let's not lose track of what's important.
Meanwhile, across Eight Mile Rd. in Southfield, where I grew up, the good middle-class blacks are trying to keep the bad ghetto blacks from moving in, thanks to the real estate meltdown. Holy exploding irony meters, Batman. I wish I could wax eloquent about the glories of the Southfield of my childhood, but I cannot tell a lie. It is a dreary, soulless slab of cement filled with nondescript office buildings and downscale strip malls. Still, at least it's not Detroit.
Now I have a policy of never going east of U.S. 23 unless I have to get to the airport. I am a wise man.
Meanwhile, across Eight Mile Rd. in Southfield, where I grew up, the good middle-class blacks are trying to keep the bad ghetto blacks from moving in, thanks to the real estate meltdown. Holy exploding irony meters, Batman. I wish I could wax eloquent about the glories of the Southfield of my childhood, but I cannot tell a lie. It is a dreary, soulless slab of cement filled with nondescript office buildings and downscale strip malls. Still, at least it's not Detroit.
Now I have a policy of never going east of U.S. 23 unless I have to get to the airport. I am a wise man.
[Rant] The New Thurston Howell III
The New Thurston Howell III: Decades ago I spent a few summer sailing on Lake Erie so the upcoming America's Cup caught my eye. The America's Cup used to be a day-sailing race between multi-millionaires who had an this sort of honor system for what sorts of boats could enter and they were at least marginally related to the sorts of sailboats most sailors actually sail. They may have been haughty rich bastards playing with expensive toys, but at least they had a sense of reticence and tradition.
But the ever advancing crudity of the world is an irresistible force. America's Cup is now a competition between multi-billionaires and oil sheiks, raced in vehicles that are essentially planes or gliders constructed in such a way that they keep some semblance of adherence to the water. They do not have sails, they have wings. They do not have hulls, they have aerodynamic fuselages. In short, they bear little or no resemblance to proper boats.
The big cheese in the America's Cup is the reigning champion, Larry Ellison. Ellison made his fortune as the founder of Oracle, the database/software giant, and is about as close to a perfect megalomaniac as ever borrowed your Grey Poupon. The yacht club he selected as headquarters for his defense of the Cup was chosen on the fact that they needed his money so badly they would let him do whatever he wanted -- basically turning control of the place over to him as needed. Better yet, get this quote from a NY Times article:
More on Ellison's megalomania: He recently purchased the island of Lanai. Yes, the entire Hawaiian Island of Lanai. That includes a couple of high-end resorts and all the infrastructure. He is apparently going to turn it into some sort of utopian sustainable tourist paradise. The sort of place all solid upper-middle class progressives would vacation with the same pride they take in driving hybrids and overpaying at Whole Foods. Truth in Advertising: I'd vacation there in a heartbeat.
My favorite quote from that last link: "...he likes to say his favorite car is his 'white Toyota,' a white Lexus LFA, the company's $380,000 race car." What a remarkably dickish thing to say. Larry, I have owned Toyotas exclusively for the last 28 years, and you, sir, are no Toyota driver.
Funny thing about Larry is how blatantly nouveau riche he is. In his seminal book on class in America, Class, Paul Fussel points out how actual upper class folks don't attract attention. They don't want it, don't care about it. Being demonstrative about money is what a middle class guy does when he gets rich. That's Larry: a middle class guy who's money makes him feel special, allows him to do special things, and he wants you to know it. (Which is not to say he doesn't do good things with it.) Compared to the truly upper class -- who would be more inclined to race Newport-Bermuda in a trusty old Hinckley -- Larry's boating antics make him look like Thurston Howell or Judge Smails.
On the other hand, Larry probably doesn't care what people think of him, and my Toyota is 12 years old. So who should be talking about class?
But the ever advancing crudity of the world is an irresistible force. America's Cup is now a competition between multi-billionaires and oil sheiks, raced in vehicles that are essentially planes or gliders constructed in such a way that they keep some semblance of adherence to the water. They do not have sails, they have wings. They do not have hulls, they have aerodynamic fuselages. In short, they bear little or no resemblance to proper boats.
The big cheese in the America's Cup is the reigning champion, Larry Ellison. Ellison made his fortune as the founder of Oracle, the database/software giant, and is about as close to a perfect megalomaniac as ever borrowed your Grey Poupon. The yacht club he selected as headquarters for his defense of the Cup was chosen on the fact that they needed his money so badly they would let him do whatever he wanted -- basically turning control of the place over to him as needed. Better yet, get this quote from a NY Times article:
...Mr. Ellison, who recently appeared at a red-carpet premiere of 'The Wind Gods,' a laudatory documentary about his 2010 [America's Cup] victory that was produced by his son, David.I'm sure Ellison will win again; he has apparently priced-out a good chunk of the competition. Maybe he'll commission a laudatory HBO mini-series this time. The America's Cup is lost cause -- corrupted by narcissism, it is the freak show of sailing, to be watched for the purposes of gawkery only. No point in complaining, though, it had a good run of over a century. Can't really ask for more than that.
More on Ellison's megalomania: He recently purchased the island of Lanai. Yes, the entire Hawaiian Island of Lanai. That includes a couple of high-end resorts and all the infrastructure. He is apparently going to turn it into some sort of utopian sustainable tourist paradise. The sort of place all solid upper-middle class progressives would vacation with the same pride they take in driving hybrids and overpaying at Whole Foods. Truth in Advertising: I'd vacation there in a heartbeat.
My favorite quote from that last link: "...he likes to say his favorite car is his 'white Toyota,' a white Lexus LFA, the company's $380,000 race car." What a remarkably dickish thing to say. Larry, I have owned Toyotas exclusively for the last 28 years, and you, sir, are no Toyota driver.
Funny thing about Larry is how blatantly nouveau riche he is. In his seminal book on class in America, Class, Paul Fussel points out how actual upper class folks don't attract attention. They don't want it, don't care about it. Being demonstrative about money is what a middle class guy does when he gets rich. That's Larry: a middle class guy who's money makes him feel special, allows him to do special things, and he wants you to know it. (Which is not to say he doesn't do good things with it.) Compared to the truly upper class -- who would be more inclined to race Newport-Bermuda in a trusty old Hinckley -- Larry's boating antics make him look like Thurston Howell or Judge Smails.
On the other hand, Larry probably doesn't care what people think of him, and my Toyota is 12 years old. So who should be talking about class?
Monday, June 03, 2013
The Month That Was - May 2013
The Month That Was - May 2013: Like I said last month, my travel this year, at least until Vegas, is likely to be confined to weekenders. I got two in this month. One was an overnight in the sweet little town of Nashville, IN, which reminds me of my home of Dexter, MI, as it was maybe 15 years ago. I was there for a truly self-destructive trail race that involved slogging through ankle deep mud, climb up black diamond ski slopes, and fording hip deep icy rivers. We knew were in trouble when the race organizer announced, "It's really stupid out there," as we were about to start. I hope to go back for a full weekend next year, not just overnight.
The other trip was a happy surprise when Misses Kate and Anna arranged a free day during a family reunion and I was able to meet them up for another overnighter on Mackinac Island, one of the nicest places in the world. We got there just before the Memorial Day crowds. It was a bit chilly compared to our previous High Summer visits when Anna was in summer camp, but the lack of people and cooler temps were a nice change. Only regret is that it couldn't have been longer.
Meanwhile, back home, I had a deck built an a patio out in and I've re-engaged in full scale battle with my lawn after winter's armistice.
[Books] Book Look: The Odds
[Movies] Going Attractions
[Rant] It's (almost) a Twister! It's (almost) a Twister!
The other trip was a happy surprise when Misses Kate and Anna arranged a free day during a family reunion and I was able to meet them up for another overnighter on Mackinac Island, one of the nicest places in the world. We got there just before the Memorial Day crowds. It was a bit chilly compared to our previous High Summer visits when Anna was in summer camp, but the lack of people and cooler temps were a nice change. Only regret is that it couldn't have been longer.
Meanwhile, back home, I had a deck built an a patio out in and I've re-engaged in full scale battle with my lawn after winter's armistice.
[Books] Book Look: The Odds
[Movies] Going Attractions
[Rant] It's (almost) a Twister! It's (almost) a Twister!
[Books] Book Look: The Odds, by Chad Millman
Book Look: The Odds, by Chad Millman: Right up my alley. We follow three threads through a season of sports gambling in Vegas: bookmakers at the old Stardust Casino, a flashy high end pro gambler, and a low end newbie trying get started as a pro gambler.
It's an older book; from around Y2K, so there is a fair amount of history that is of interest. The Stardust Casino at the time had the most renown sports book in Vegas. They always set the line first, which means they would also take a huge hit because if they got something wrong the high-enders were there waiting to play it. (Big gamblers have a line in their head for every game and if the book's line is very far from there they will snap up a lot of action. There are a lot of high rollers and they are very smart, so if you're way off from them you're probably wrong and possibly in trouble if you don't move the line quickly enough. On the other hand, if the book can nail the line they will get all the big action.) At the time, the Vegas casinos were under relentless pressure from the newly founded, zero-overhead Caribbean online casinos which allowed gamblers to bet with a couple of mouse clicks rather than make an appearance in the sports book. And they were in the process of being double whammied by congressional legislation to outlaw gambling on college sports -- a huge blow to their ability to make a profit.
Looking back, it's interesting to see how all this played out. The legislation failed and, in fact, regulators would turn their gaze on the Caribs over the next few years. Sports gambling is no longer a huge profit center for Vegas casinos -- most have farmed out their sportsbook operations to one of three or four big agencies so scouring the books for a better line is often fruitless. Odds and lines get set and they sync up across books very quickly. It's more corporate. More geared towards collecting the vig than outsmarting the gamblers, who have more information and analytical power in their phones than the entire industry had 15 years ago. The Stardust Hotel and Casino itself was blown up long ago.
Yet, folks still come to the sportsbooks. It might be that, apart from a limited and recent legalization in Delaware, Vegas remains only place in the U.S. you can legally bet on sports and you can't legally do it over the phone, so most law abiding citizens have to go to the sportsbook. You have the option of breaking the law and hooking up with a local bookie who may or may not be accessible when you need your money. Or you could click through to one of the Caribs, which is more gray market than black, which may or may not be accessible when you want your money. Or you can contain your risk to the amount of your wager and go visit the sportsbook.
Alan Boston is the profiled high-roller, or "wiseguy", is the sort of professional everyone imagines. A heart-attack waiting to happen, he is the key guy in a high-end sports betting syndicate. He wants to kill himself when things don't go his way and condemns anyone -- a player who hits a three in garbage time, a ref who made a bad call, a bookmaker who won't take his bet, etc. -- who he blames for losses (in abstract) as worthy of death. He's flashy and brash, but also sentimental and generous. Quite a character all-in-all.
The newbie profiled is another telling image. A former Indiana high school jock who cares about virtually nothing except sports gambling decides he's going to take a shot at being a pro gambler. Fair enough, but then he experiences the worst possible fate. He plays his gut and wins. And he manages to do it for a while. He sits around all day reading the sports pages, getting fat, and smoking weed. Naturally, he's flattened by a gravity storm. Unrepentant, he gets a job at a sportsbook so he can keep going.
Both gambler profiles are interesting, although they seem a bit shallow. But then, obsessed gamblers are shallow. The only thing they worry about, the only real passion they have, is the bet. Alan Boston's existential fear is not simply that he will lose money, but that he will lose so much money he can't gamble again next season. The only thing that shakes the newbie out of his pot-stupor is the possibility that he will have to abandon Vegas and get job back in Indiana. They are not obsessed with winning. The are not as concerned about winning as they are continuing.
I have never read a satisfactory description of the attraction of gambling. I have read good descriptions of the experience and of the acts of gamblers (this book for example), but I have never read a good explanation for the irresistible internal desire. I have read discussions of gambling as an addiction in general but I have trouble lumping gambling "addiction" in the same category with substance abuse. In the case of traditional addictions you are putting some chemicals of some sort in your body and altering your physiology to "need" them. Nothing is ingested in a sportsbook except stale nachos and flat beer. Nor is gambling the same as a true obsession. There are, for example, people addicted to washing their hands. Often they will wash them until they are raw and bleeding, but they cannot stop. That sort of thing is like a twitch -- an involuntary little habit that gets set on repeat in your brain. Gambling is an extraordinarily complex behavior. Nobody who is addicted to cocaine or has tourettes syndrome will tell you they are acting rationally. They know what they are doing is nonsensical or self-destructive, but they just can't stop. Any full on gambler can tell you exactly why it makes sense for him to make a bet, and in the case of sports betting, they will often do hours of analysis before betting. This is not a generic addiction or obsession.
My personal experience, and I think this jibes with other descriptions I have read, is that gambling is about the losing. On the surface it seems like everyone is chasing that big win -- the easy money. But wins, while exhilarating, are momentary. In fact, for me, the real thrill of winning is the feeling that you have outsmarted the world. That your analysis and reasoning are beyond the norm. That you see things others don't. Whatever the joys of winning, they are fleeting and not what you remember. I have made some good calls and won a bit of cash, but the things that stick in my mind are the losses. The weekend where I ended down based on a last minute missed field goal. The time I altered a bet at the last minute based on a news story when I should have known better. The weekend where I couldn't win anything. The lying in bed at night, pounding my head over what I should have done. Why would I want to engage in an activity where that is the norm (losing is the norm in gambling) and which brings me only momentary pleasure otherwise? Now I have never bet and lost so much money that it caused me the slightest problem, but I have to imagine other gamblers have similar experiences.
I don't have any answers, and neither does Chad Millman. So to answer the standard question, Should you read The Odds?, I'm going to give it a qualified no. Qualified, because I don't see a lot a attraction here, for someone who isn't interested in gambling on sports. The connection to broader human experience is tenuous. The personal stories are not compelling enough to really draw the interest of someone who has no gambling frame of reference and would just view them dramatically. As dramatic characters they are a problem because there is really no arc to them. They don't go on any journeys. You also will be frustrated if you are looking for insights into the strategies of big time gamblers, none are presented -- although they consider every angle none of them do anything remotely systematic or at least there are no detailed descriptions of any analytics. They live and die on their sense for the effects of the variables being sharper than the general public. (The availability of untold statistics and measurables via the internet was still in it's infancy.) If you're like me, you can appreciate The Odds as a simple document of the rhythms and melodies, the push and pull of sports gambling. You can read an excerpt and think, "Been there," hopefully with a smile. But chances are, you're not like me.
It's an older book; from around Y2K, so there is a fair amount of history that is of interest. The Stardust Casino at the time had the most renown sports book in Vegas. They always set the line first, which means they would also take a huge hit because if they got something wrong the high-enders were there waiting to play it. (Big gamblers have a line in their head for every game and if the book's line is very far from there they will snap up a lot of action. There are a lot of high rollers and they are very smart, so if you're way off from them you're probably wrong and possibly in trouble if you don't move the line quickly enough. On the other hand, if the book can nail the line they will get all the big action.) At the time, the Vegas casinos were under relentless pressure from the newly founded, zero-overhead Caribbean online casinos which allowed gamblers to bet with a couple of mouse clicks rather than make an appearance in the sports book. And they were in the process of being double whammied by congressional legislation to outlaw gambling on college sports -- a huge blow to their ability to make a profit.
Looking back, it's interesting to see how all this played out. The legislation failed and, in fact, regulators would turn their gaze on the Caribs over the next few years. Sports gambling is no longer a huge profit center for Vegas casinos -- most have farmed out their sportsbook operations to one of three or four big agencies so scouring the books for a better line is often fruitless. Odds and lines get set and they sync up across books very quickly. It's more corporate. More geared towards collecting the vig than outsmarting the gamblers, who have more information and analytical power in their phones than the entire industry had 15 years ago. The Stardust Hotel and Casino itself was blown up long ago.
Yet, folks still come to the sportsbooks. It might be that, apart from a limited and recent legalization in Delaware, Vegas remains only place in the U.S. you can legally bet on sports and you can't legally do it over the phone, so most law abiding citizens have to go to the sportsbook. You have the option of breaking the law and hooking up with a local bookie who may or may not be accessible when you need your money. Or you could click through to one of the Caribs, which is more gray market than black, which may or may not be accessible when you want your money. Or you can contain your risk to the amount of your wager and go visit the sportsbook.
Alan Boston is the profiled high-roller, or "wiseguy", is the sort of professional everyone imagines. A heart-attack waiting to happen, he is the key guy in a high-end sports betting syndicate. He wants to kill himself when things don't go his way and condemns anyone -- a player who hits a three in garbage time, a ref who made a bad call, a bookmaker who won't take his bet, etc. -- who he blames for losses (in abstract) as worthy of death. He's flashy and brash, but also sentimental and generous. Quite a character all-in-all.
The newbie profiled is another telling image. A former Indiana high school jock who cares about virtually nothing except sports gambling decides he's going to take a shot at being a pro gambler. Fair enough, but then he experiences the worst possible fate. He plays his gut and wins. And he manages to do it for a while. He sits around all day reading the sports pages, getting fat, and smoking weed. Naturally, he's flattened by a gravity storm. Unrepentant, he gets a job at a sportsbook so he can keep going.
Both gambler profiles are interesting, although they seem a bit shallow. But then, obsessed gamblers are shallow. The only thing they worry about, the only real passion they have, is the bet. Alan Boston's existential fear is not simply that he will lose money, but that he will lose so much money he can't gamble again next season. The only thing that shakes the newbie out of his pot-stupor is the possibility that he will have to abandon Vegas and get job back in Indiana. They are not obsessed with winning. The are not as concerned about winning as they are continuing.
I have never read a satisfactory description of the attraction of gambling. I have read good descriptions of the experience and of the acts of gamblers (this book for example), but I have never read a good explanation for the irresistible internal desire. I have read discussions of gambling as an addiction in general but I have trouble lumping gambling "addiction" in the same category with substance abuse. In the case of traditional addictions you are putting some chemicals of some sort in your body and altering your physiology to "need" them. Nothing is ingested in a sportsbook except stale nachos and flat beer. Nor is gambling the same as a true obsession. There are, for example, people addicted to washing their hands. Often they will wash them until they are raw and bleeding, but they cannot stop. That sort of thing is like a twitch -- an involuntary little habit that gets set on repeat in your brain. Gambling is an extraordinarily complex behavior. Nobody who is addicted to cocaine or has tourettes syndrome will tell you they are acting rationally. They know what they are doing is nonsensical or self-destructive, but they just can't stop. Any full on gambler can tell you exactly why it makes sense for him to make a bet, and in the case of sports betting, they will often do hours of analysis before betting. This is not a generic addiction or obsession.
My personal experience, and I think this jibes with other descriptions I have read, is that gambling is about the losing. On the surface it seems like everyone is chasing that big win -- the easy money. But wins, while exhilarating, are momentary. In fact, for me, the real thrill of winning is the feeling that you have outsmarted the world. That your analysis and reasoning are beyond the norm. That you see things others don't. Whatever the joys of winning, they are fleeting and not what you remember. I have made some good calls and won a bit of cash, but the things that stick in my mind are the losses. The weekend where I ended down based on a last minute missed field goal. The time I altered a bet at the last minute based on a news story when I should have known better. The weekend where I couldn't win anything. The lying in bed at night, pounding my head over what I should have done. Why would I want to engage in an activity where that is the norm (losing is the norm in gambling) and which brings me only momentary pleasure otherwise? Now I have never bet and lost so much money that it caused me the slightest problem, but I have to imagine other gamblers have similar experiences.
I don't have any answers, and neither does Chad Millman. So to answer the standard question, Should you read The Odds?, I'm going to give it a qualified no. Qualified, because I don't see a lot a attraction here, for someone who isn't interested in gambling on sports. The connection to broader human experience is tenuous. The personal stories are not compelling enough to really draw the interest of someone who has no gambling frame of reference and would just view them dramatically. As dramatic characters they are a problem because there is really no arc to them. They don't go on any journeys. You also will be frustrated if you are looking for insights into the strategies of big time gamblers, none are presented -- although they consider every angle none of them do anything remotely systematic or at least there are no detailed descriptions of any analytics. They live and die on their sense for the effects of the variables being sharper than the general public. (The availability of untold statistics and measurables via the internet was still in it's infancy.) If you're like me, you can appreciate The Odds as a simple document of the rhythms and melodies, the push and pull of sports gambling. You can read an excerpt and think, "Been there," hopefully with a smile. But chances are, you're not like me.
[Movies] Going Attractions
Going Attractions: I count seven potential summer blockbusters that were released in May. These blockbusters are the seminal purpose of the movie industry. Pretty much all other movies have to count on long term plans such as rentals or hitting it off in Europe to make money. These show big profit on the the first weekend or they are considered failures. Stock price movers, they are. I, of course, saw none of them. I don't go to the movies. It's an odd concept to me -- like streaming from Amazon, but in a huge darkened room with a bunch of annoying strangers while eating nasty food and paying for the privilege. I don't see the attraction. But it's fun to me to try to figure out ahead of time which ones I'll watch when they start streaming or appear on cable.
Iron Man 3 -- I'll watch it just for Downey if nothing else, but reviews are strong. BTW, I just caught a snippet if the first Iron Man and decided I would have gone to see it in the theatre if during the face off between Downey and Jeff Daniels, Downey would have said, "Where is the money, Lebowski?" In fact, I might go to the theatre to see just about any Jeff Daniels film that contained an ironic Lebowski quote. But that's just me.
The Great Gatsby -- I find I actually like DiCaprio. I thought he was terrific in The Aviator, which is a movie that is recent in my mind but is now almost ten years old. It seems like everything reminds me of the passage of time, doesn't it? I have to stop doing that. Try to stay focused on the future. It's not like I'm some sort of old man in a nursing home. I mean I won't retire for another 15 years at least and if I look back 15 years ago, the most profound experiences of my life had yet to happen. There's no reason to expect the next 15 years will bring any less. And 15 years after that -- well, I hope to be a cyborg.
But the topic is Gatsby. You would think this is the sort of movie I would relish -- a fresh take on classic literature -- even if it turns out to be an awkward reimagining, but honestly, it seems like the kind of thing that I would plan to watch but probably think better of it when the time comes and turn on something else. Maybe The Aviator. Or Lebowski.
Star Trek: Into the Darkness -- Reviews are mixed but I'm sure I'll watch it. Even at his worst, JJ Abrams can hold your attention. I thought the rebooted Trek acting team was awfully good. We know Benedict Cumberbatch is amazing. I fear for JJ in trying to extend the Star Wars franchise though, especially after the holy abominations of the prequels. He may be mistaken if he thinks there is a trove of good will out there. But it appears he really wants Eternal Emperor of all Nerdom on his resume so he has to go for it.
There were three great fantasy-action trilogies in the '80s (roughly): 1) Star Wars, 2) Indiana Jones, and 3) Back to the Future. Lucas plus Spielberg torpedoed Indy pretty thoroughly. Lucas demolished Star Wars all on his own. It's evident that the personality of the director plays a starring role in such films. By the time Lucas and Spielberg got around to revisiting these works they were different people -- the sort of people who did not thrill to, and dream about, pulp action fantasy anymore. They were grown ups, with all the suckiness of mind that entails. Please don't let either of them touch Back to the Future. Marty McFly with Parkinson's would be the Worst of all Possible Ideas. Best to leave it to guys like Abrams and Joss Whedon. At least until they grow up. Come to think of it, I bet Whedon could do something sparkling with a Back to the Future reboot.
Fast and Furious 6 -- Yeah, I'll watch it. Mind switched to 'off'. Maybe while playing Fruit Ninja and cursing myself for wasting what little time I have on Earth.
The Hangover 3 -- I have not watched 1 or 2 so it's highly unlikely i'll watch this one. I have seen slob humor from its Animal Housian beginnings and feel quite confident that I could live a rich, fulfilling life without seeing anymore. Like most things, slob movies have degraded over the years. They sometimes descend into pure raunch or the contort themselves to have a poignant endings. But the true death of slob humor came when they started producing sequels. MISSING THE WHOLE POINT, PEOPLE. They're just supposed to be a couple hours of gags.
Now You See Me -- I had to look up the plot of this one: "Story follows a crack FBI squad in a game of cat-and-mouse against a super-team of the world's greatest illusionists, who pull off a series of daring bank heists during their performances, showering the profits on their audiences while staying one step ahead of the law." I'll wait until I hear more about it before deciding. Could be good but only if it turns out to be a crisply plotted and cleanly directed caper film, but you only get one of those every decade or so. None of the names involved with it give me any confidence whatsoever. I'd lay odds that like the main characters, the thing the movie does well is manipulate the audience.
After Earth -- Abort. I can't get past the premise: After evacuating Earth a thousand years ago, a father and son duo crash land back on Earth where everything all life has evolved to kill humans. At least that is what I gather from the trailers. First, in evolutionary terms, 1000 years isn't very long at all. There probably would be observable effects but not that great. Roving packs of feral Labrador Retrievers? Sure. Mutant Giant Killer Reptiles -- um, no. Second, even if life did evolve very fast (for some contrived reason revealed in expository dialogue) it would not evolve to kill humans because there were no humans around to evolve to kill. See how that works? My ability to suspend disbelief only goes so far. There has to be at least some semblance of rationality behind things. I don't know why they think it's OK just to make up whatever random crap you want and turn it into a movie. Oh wait, I see the reason: M. Night Shyamalan. Because it's worked so well in the past.
Iron Man 3 -- I'll watch it just for Downey if nothing else, but reviews are strong. BTW, I just caught a snippet if the first Iron Man and decided I would have gone to see it in the theatre if during the face off between Downey and Jeff Daniels, Downey would have said, "Where is the money, Lebowski?" In fact, I might go to the theatre to see just about any Jeff Daniels film that contained an ironic Lebowski quote. But that's just me.
The Great Gatsby -- I find I actually like DiCaprio. I thought he was terrific in The Aviator, which is a movie that is recent in my mind but is now almost ten years old. It seems like everything reminds me of the passage of time, doesn't it? I have to stop doing that. Try to stay focused on the future. It's not like I'm some sort of old man in a nursing home. I mean I won't retire for another 15 years at least and if I look back 15 years ago, the most profound experiences of my life had yet to happen. There's no reason to expect the next 15 years will bring any less. And 15 years after that -- well, I hope to be a cyborg.
But the topic is Gatsby. You would think this is the sort of movie I would relish -- a fresh take on classic literature -- even if it turns out to be an awkward reimagining, but honestly, it seems like the kind of thing that I would plan to watch but probably think better of it when the time comes and turn on something else. Maybe The Aviator. Or Lebowski.
Star Trek: Into the Darkness -- Reviews are mixed but I'm sure I'll watch it. Even at his worst, JJ Abrams can hold your attention. I thought the rebooted Trek acting team was awfully good. We know Benedict Cumberbatch is amazing. I fear for JJ in trying to extend the Star Wars franchise though, especially after the holy abominations of the prequels. He may be mistaken if he thinks there is a trove of good will out there. But it appears he really wants Eternal Emperor of all Nerdom on his resume so he has to go for it.
There were three great fantasy-action trilogies in the '80s (roughly): 1) Star Wars, 2) Indiana Jones, and 3) Back to the Future. Lucas plus Spielberg torpedoed Indy pretty thoroughly. Lucas demolished Star Wars all on his own. It's evident that the personality of the director plays a starring role in such films. By the time Lucas and Spielberg got around to revisiting these works they were different people -- the sort of people who did not thrill to, and dream about, pulp action fantasy anymore. They were grown ups, with all the suckiness of mind that entails. Please don't let either of them touch Back to the Future. Marty McFly with Parkinson's would be the Worst of all Possible Ideas. Best to leave it to guys like Abrams and Joss Whedon. At least until they grow up. Come to think of it, I bet Whedon could do something sparkling with a Back to the Future reboot.
Fast and Furious 6 -- Yeah, I'll watch it. Mind switched to 'off'. Maybe while playing Fruit Ninja and cursing myself for wasting what little time I have on Earth.
The Hangover 3 -- I have not watched 1 or 2 so it's highly unlikely i'll watch this one. I have seen slob humor from its Animal Housian beginnings and feel quite confident that I could live a rich, fulfilling life without seeing anymore. Like most things, slob movies have degraded over the years. They sometimes descend into pure raunch or the contort themselves to have a poignant endings. But the true death of slob humor came when they started producing sequels. MISSING THE WHOLE POINT, PEOPLE. They're just supposed to be a couple hours of gags.
Now You See Me -- I had to look up the plot of this one: "Story follows a crack FBI squad in a game of cat-and-mouse against a super-team of the world's greatest illusionists, who pull off a series of daring bank heists during their performances, showering the profits on their audiences while staying one step ahead of the law." I'll wait until I hear more about it before deciding. Could be good but only if it turns out to be a crisply plotted and cleanly directed caper film, but you only get one of those every decade or so. None of the names involved with it give me any confidence whatsoever. I'd lay odds that like the main characters, the thing the movie does well is manipulate the audience.
After Earth -- Abort. I can't get past the premise: After evacuating Earth a thousand years ago, a father and son duo crash land back on Earth where everything all life has evolved to kill humans. At least that is what I gather from the trailers. First, in evolutionary terms, 1000 years isn't very long at all. There probably would be observable effects but not that great. Roving packs of feral Labrador Retrievers? Sure. Mutant Giant Killer Reptiles -- um, no. Second, even if life did evolve very fast (for some contrived reason revealed in expository dialogue) it would not evolve to kill humans because there were no humans around to evolve to kill. See how that works? My ability to suspend disbelief only goes so far. There has to be at least some semblance of rationality behind things. I don't know why they think it's OK just to make up whatever random crap you want and turn it into a movie. Oh wait, I see the reason: M. Night Shyamalan. Because it's worked so well in the past.
[Rant] It's (almost) a Twister! It's (almost) a Twister!
It's (almost) a Twister! It's (almost) a Twister!: This bothers me. We had a tornado warning. For those of you from non-tornado areas, a tornado watch is issued when conditions are ripe for a twister, a tornado warning is issued when a funnel cloud or a near funnel cloud has actually been spotted.
So, we had a tornado warning. That's not what bothers me. What bothers me is the reaction. I was in the local library and the first thing they did was try to shepherd us all into the basement. Instead, I left, but not before I got a very forceful and indignant suggestion from the librarian to comply with her instructions. (I wasn't worried. I'm pretty sure I could have taken her if we threw hands.) So I went to the grocery store where they stopped all activity and tried to usher all the customers into the warehouse storage in the back. At least the pimply grocery clerk told me I had the option to leave.
The hell? Why young fella, back in my day we used to go outside to watch the twisters -- the closer the better. As it turns out, the suspected almost tornado was about ten miles north and never actually turned into a real tornado anyway.
Yes, I had another get-off-my-lawn moment. But look, the chance of tornado coming down on your head is pretty close to zero. And despite what breathless news storm-chasing news journalists tell you for dramatic effect, you will get a fair amount of warning. Things get dark. There is hail. Wind picks up. I know -- I was within spitting distance of a nasty one last year. You do not have to put the brakes on life as we know it just because there may be a possible tornado somewhere in the county.
I understand that nature is a scary thing. It's supposed to scare us. That how we survived to evolve civilization. But we really need some sense of proportion when assessing risk. I don't know who to blame for this. The recent OKC tornado; media sensationalism and the idiots who buy into it; the clowns who have planted the inane idea that this is all due to global warming and the apocalypse is coming and we are actually living in a bad sci-fi movie -- your guess is as good as mine. Businesses get freaked because they are sure that if a tornado does hit everyone in the store is going to sue them.
What's frustrating about this is not that it's another example of what's gone wrong with the world (let's face it -- the world was never right to begin with). The thing that frustrates me is the reaction of the overreactors to non-overreactors. They overreact. Take the angry librarian. What would the reaction have been if I had turned and explained (as I wanted to) that the chance of a tornado blindsiding me is zero and they were acting like scared kittens for no good reason? The response would have been indignation at my irresponsible attitude. I may have even been lectured about endangering the children or something.
I realize we live in a much safer world than we used to. And it may be because of a shift in attitudes (and laws and regulations) towards greater risk aversion. And it also may, on balance, be a good thing. But you can't deny much was lost in the process. How much institutional behavior is driven by fear of lawsuits rather than reason and analysis? How many simple pleasures, large and small, will we people younger than myself never experience?
Riding in the back of a pickup truck. Jumping of the roof of the garage. I did those things as a child; I did not ask permission, and adults knew I did them with little concern. Could I have been killed or hurt? Sure. Would it have been worth it if I had been? The wise answer is no, it wouldn't, therefore I shouldn't have done them -- I shouldn't have taken the risk. Well, perhaps my wisdom is lacking, but I'm not so sure. Those little adventures had meaning for me. They still do. They are symptomatic of a sense of invulnerability that only a child can have. I no longer have that, of course, but don't know how I could live without the imprint of the sensation in my memory. I could not approach any unfamiliar or risky situation with confidence that I would overcome it were I not able to draw on that sensation of invulnerability from my childhood: that it's scary to jump of the roof, but awesome when you do it. In the absence of that, the only way I would be comfortable acting in uncertainty is if I had faith that the world -- the system/community/institutions -- had my back, that the environment had been structured so that I would not be harmed. Is that what younger adults have now instead of invulnerability?
Maybe it's better this way. Maybe that's progress and I'm just a grouch. Or maybe it's not. Maybe it really was better back in the day. Or maybe it's neither. Maybe it's no better or worse, just different. But in no way is it the answer so clear that you should get on your high horse about safety to someone who isn't scared of tornadoes. If you want to dive into the basement at the first sign of bad weather you have my blessing. How about you give me your blessing when I don't? If you don't want to dive in the pool head first, don't. But let me.
Huron River Drive in Ann Arbor is a beautiful scenic road that winds along the river. The river is crossed by railroad bridges in three or four spots. They are maybe twenty feet above the water and when the river is high, and you have taken the time to locate any hidden rocks, they are a blast to jump off. One for my fondest, most vivid, memories from my early twenties (maybe thirty years ago, yikes) was coming out to one these with a bunch of friends and spending a hot afternoon leaping off one of the bridges into the cool water.
As I drove past one hot day last summer I noticed a group of four kids -- ok, not kids, they looked about 20 -- lined up on top of one of the bridges to leap in together. I gave an involuntary grin. I could see them count off 3-2-1 and get airborne and shout with joy. As they swam to shore they were met by a security guard or park ranger or some form of uniformed authority who was clearly beside himself with indignation and was just brimming with excitement at the opportunity to teach these kids a lesson about safety. The kids were clearly intimidated by this authority figure. I was tempted to stop my car, charge over, get in the uniform's face, and claim to be the kids' lawyer just to take the guy down a notch. What exactly did they learn? What is their memory? Is that wisdom?
It may indeed be better and safer this way. But it's also sadder.
So, we had a tornado warning. That's not what bothers me. What bothers me is the reaction. I was in the local library and the first thing they did was try to shepherd us all into the basement. Instead, I left, but not before I got a very forceful and indignant suggestion from the librarian to comply with her instructions. (I wasn't worried. I'm pretty sure I could have taken her if we threw hands.) So I went to the grocery store where they stopped all activity and tried to usher all the customers into the warehouse storage in the back. At least the pimply grocery clerk told me I had the option to leave.
The hell? Why young fella, back in my day we used to go outside to watch the twisters -- the closer the better. As it turns out, the suspected almost tornado was about ten miles north and never actually turned into a real tornado anyway.
Yes, I had another get-off-my-lawn moment. But look, the chance of tornado coming down on your head is pretty close to zero. And despite what breathless news storm-chasing news journalists tell you for dramatic effect, you will get a fair amount of warning. Things get dark. There is hail. Wind picks up. I know -- I was within spitting distance of a nasty one last year. You do not have to put the brakes on life as we know it just because there may be a possible tornado somewhere in the county.
I understand that nature is a scary thing. It's supposed to scare us. That how we survived to evolve civilization. But we really need some sense of proportion when assessing risk. I don't know who to blame for this. The recent OKC tornado; media sensationalism and the idiots who buy into it; the clowns who have planted the inane idea that this is all due to global warming and the apocalypse is coming and we are actually living in a bad sci-fi movie -- your guess is as good as mine. Businesses get freaked because they are sure that if a tornado does hit everyone in the store is going to sue them.
What's frustrating about this is not that it's another example of what's gone wrong with the world (let's face it -- the world was never right to begin with). The thing that frustrates me is the reaction of the overreactors to non-overreactors. They overreact. Take the angry librarian. What would the reaction have been if I had turned and explained (as I wanted to) that the chance of a tornado blindsiding me is zero and they were acting like scared kittens for no good reason? The response would have been indignation at my irresponsible attitude. I may have even been lectured about endangering the children or something.
I realize we live in a much safer world than we used to. And it may be because of a shift in attitudes (and laws and regulations) towards greater risk aversion. And it also may, on balance, be a good thing. But you can't deny much was lost in the process. How much institutional behavior is driven by fear of lawsuits rather than reason and analysis? How many simple pleasures, large and small, will we people younger than myself never experience?
Riding in the back of a pickup truck. Jumping of the roof of the garage. I did those things as a child; I did not ask permission, and adults knew I did them with little concern. Could I have been killed or hurt? Sure. Would it have been worth it if I had been? The wise answer is no, it wouldn't, therefore I shouldn't have done them -- I shouldn't have taken the risk. Well, perhaps my wisdom is lacking, but I'm not so sure. Those little adventures had meaning for me. They still do. They are symptomatic of a sense of invulnerability that only a child can have. I no longer have that, of course, but don't know how I could live without the imprint of the sensation in my memory. I could not approach any unfamiliar or risky situation with confidence that I would overcome it were I not able to draw on that sensation of invulnerability from my childhood: that it's scary to jump of the roof, but awesome when you do it. In the absence of that, the only way I would be comfortable acting in uncertainty is if I had faith that the world -- the system/community/institutions -- had my back, that the environment had been structured so that I would not be harmed. Is that what younger adults have now instead of invulnerability?
Maybe it's better this way. Maybe that's progress and I'm just a grouch. Or maybe it's not. Maybe it really was better back in the day. Or maybe it's neither. Maybe it's no better or worse, just different. But in no way is it the answer so clear that you should get on your high horse about safety to someone who isn't scared of tornadoes. If you want to dive into the basement at the first sign of bad weather you have my blessing. How about you give me your blessing when I don't? If you don't want to dive in the pool head first, don't. But let me.
Huron River Drive in Ann Arbor is a beautiful scenic road that winds along the river. The river is crossed by railroad bridges in three or four spots. They are maybe twenty feet above the water and when the river is high, and you have taken the time to locate any hidden rocks, they are a blast to jump off. One for my fondest, most vivid, memories from my early twenties (maybe thirty years ago, yikes) was coming out to one these with a bunch of friends and spending a hot afternoon leaping off one of the bridges into the cool water.
As I drove past one hot day last summer I noticed a group of four kids -- ok, not kids, they looked about 20 -- lined up on top of one of the bridges to leap in together. I gave an involuntary grin. I could see them count off 3-2-1 and get airborne and shout with joy. As they swam to shore they were met by a security guard or park ranger or some form of uniformed authority who was clearly beside himself with indignation and was just brimming with excitement at the opportunity to teach these kids a lesson about safety. The kids were clearly intimidated by this authority figure. I was tempted to stop my car, charge over, get in the uniform's face, and claim to be the kids' lawyer just to take the guy down a notch. What exactly did they learn? What is their memory? Is that wisdom?
It may indeed be better and safer this way. But it's also sadder.
Monday, May 06, 2013
The Month That Was - April 2013
The Month That Was - April 2013: It was a cold April. My flowers came up and then were immediately at risk from overnight freezes. The mower was serviced and, oxymoronically, I contracted to have the lawn fertilized and fed that it be especially healthy. In two months I'll wish it was dead. Three new trees were planted. Stone was installed around the fireplace -- a messy and inconvenient job, but it looks very good. I also contracted for have a patio put in and my deck repair/refurbished -- scheduled for May. And then there were the toilets -- two of them started running frequently -- tank leaking into bowl -- one severely, one slowly. I blame the bleach tablets that I was putting in my tank. I was quite proud of my do-it-yourself replacement of the damaged parts -- took a bit of work. Isn't that something? Of all the things that I thought I would be proud of in my life, toilet repair was not on the list. Still, in my struggle with home ownership, a victory is a victory.
But running season is upon us. I hope to do at least one organized run per month this year. I need a run for May. June is the Dexter-AA half marathon. I also need a run for July (but will have the Helluva Ride bike ride). August I'm thinking about the Chicago 10K, that might be a nice weekend trip. September is always the Mackinac 8-mile. October is the Marine Corps 10K in DC (already registered for that). November is whatever race I do out West during my Vegas Thanksgiving -- possibly the Death Valley half marathon. December is always the Holiday Hustle in my hometown (Dexter), but possibly something else too. The schedule needs a bit of fleshing out but it looks like this is going to be the shape of my travel over the next couple of years -- quick trips here and there for a run and some sightseeing. Nothing epic until I get the house the way I want it, despite the temptation to fly afar. Discipline.
[Books] Book Look: Kim
[Tech] Figuring 8
[Vegas] Got Your Baccarat
But running season is upon us. I hope to do at least one organized run per month this year. I need a run for May. June is the Dexter-AA half marathon. I also need a run for July (but will have the Helluva Ride bike ride). August I'm thinking about the Chicago 10K, that might be a nice weekend trip. September is always the Mackinac 8-mile. October is the Marine Corps 10K in DC (already registered for that). November is whatever race I do out West during my Vegas Thanksgiving -- possibly the Death Valley half marathon. December is always the Holiday Hustle in my hometown (Dexter), but possibly something else too. The schedule needs a bit of fleshing out but it looks like this is going to be the shape of my travel over the next couple of years -- quick trips here and there for a run and some sightseeing. Nothing epic until I get the house the way I want it, despite the temptation to fly afar. Discipline.
[Books] Book Look: Kim
[Tech] Figuring 8
[Vegas] Got Your Baccarat
[Books] Book Look: Kim, by Rudyard Kipling
Bool Look: Kim, by Rudyard Kipling: Kim is not an easy read. It is loaded with "thy"s and "thee"s and the poetic sentence formation and the vernacular of the British Raj. It's tough to do it in small bites, which is really the only way I read nowadays. It's probably best in a more extended session with ample time to acclimate to the rhythm and style. Still, it's a ripping good yarn by any measure.
Kim O'Hara is a street orphan in colonial India (late 1800's). The son of an Irishman, he has completely gone native. He is as street smart as they come -- but sympathetic and good-hearted enough to be nicknamed "Friend to all the World." As the story unfolds, Kim meets a wandering Buddhist priest who becomes his mentor and something of a substitute father figure. His innate wiliness brings him into the circle of a Muslim horse-trader who is also a British spy and becomes another father figure, although representing something much more practical. He eventually encounters the army regiment of his late father, who assume the responsibility of taking him in and transforming him into a Sahib (a European). Here he is watched carefully and it is determined that he should be trained to join the Great Game -- the British Intelligence Service's name for the cold war being waged between Britain and Russia for control of Central Asia. In time, he re-unites with the priest and the collision of hsi mentor's spiritual quest and his duties in the Great Game bring about a crisis and reconciliation for both the priest and Kim.
The surface story is a tale of adventure, with Kim as a figure of the sort we would now call "the chosen one" -- someone fated to face a challenge to fulfill his destiny. In fact, Kim is often lumped in the Young Adult section of your library (in a colloquialized, somewhat dumbed-down form, most likely). All the tropes we know from action movies are there, although they are used less blatantly in context. And it is the context that provides the most interest.
A book from more than a century ago can be quite a shock to the uninitiated. All the good progressive signally we are used to seeing every day is not present. There are few more ethnically and religiously diverse times or places than colonial India, and Kipling relishes in colorful descriptions of a various stripes of people. However, there are no paens to equality. There is a clear pecking order with the Sahibs on top. That is not to say they are oppressors or the non-Sahibs are denigrated. Orientals (Kipling's word) are regularly admired for the wits and the skillful way they get by -- and for the depth of their spirituality. Kim even notes that most Sahib's can appear dull-witted and out of place. However, there is no question that the resources and clear-minded understanding of the world give them the upper hand, and that is not thought unjust. Readers nursed on the later twentieth century view of colonialism will be off-put. But like I said, there is sense of a certain order, but there is no blanket denigration. In fact, the Sahibs who are truly culturally insensitive are in for beatdowns -- either figuratively or literally.
(Aside: I am not even slightly off-put by such things. I wouldn't judge the values of earlier times by the current ones, lest I be judged by young'ns. In fact, I'm getting to the point where I see the times of my youth regularly judged to be morally wanting and my reaction is almost always "As if your world is superior. You have no idea what you're talking about. Now get off my lawn!" So I'll stay off the lawn of the British Empire.)
I mention those things because we live in a world so obsessed with jockeying for socially correct poses. Kim soars by way of a colorful, sympathetic, and deeply endearing characters (of all cultural types) that Kipling laces throughout the book. The eye cast on these folks is clear sees no illusions, but it is generally celebratory, and we, along with Kim can revel in the wonder and mystery of the world. It is a genuine impulse, not a pose.
Should you read Kim? It's good for a curious and thoughtful mind. Although there is a fair amount of action, it is a bit dialogue heavy, but it's still a cut above what you would probably read in a modern book of similar themes. Kipling's prose is quite lovely and clever, although it takes a bit of attention to get into the groove. I would say yes, you should read it, if you're ready to put in the time and effort. Money is not a question as it is long out of copyright and is freely available in various formats at gutenberg.org. What's better than a great book for free?
Kim O'Hara is a street orphan in colonial India (late 1800's). The son of an Irishman, he has completely gone native. He is as street smart as they come -- but sympathetic and good-hearted enough to be nicknamed "Friend to all the World." As the story unfolds, Kim meets a wandering Buddhist priest who becomes his mentor and something of a substitute father figure. His innate wiliness brings him into the circle of a Muslim horse-trader who is also a British spy and becomes another father figure, although representing something much more practical. He eventually encounters the army regiment of his late father, who assume the responsibility of taking him in and transforming him into a Sahib (a European). Here he is watched carefully and it is determined that he should be trained to join the Great Game -- the British Intelligence Service's name for the cold war being waged between Britain and Russia for control of Central Asia. In time, he re-unites with the priest and the collision of hsi mentor's spiritual quest and his duties in the Great Game bring about a crisis and reconciliation for both the priest and Kim.
The surface story is a tale of adventure, with Kim as a figure of the sort we would now call "the chosen one" -- someone fated to face a challenge to fulfill his destiny. In fact, Kim is often lumped in the Young Adult section of your library (in a colloquialized, somewhat dumbed-down form, most likely). All the tropes we know from action movies are there, although they are used less blatantly in context. And it is the context that provides the most interest.
A book from more than a century ago can be quite a shock to the uninitiated. All the good progressive signally we are used to seeing every day is not present. There are few more ethnically and religiously diverse times or places than colonial India, and Kipling relishes in colorful descriptions of a various stripes of people. However, there are no paens to equality. There is a clear pecking order with the Sahibs on top. That is not to say they are oppressors or the non-Sahibs are denigrated. Orientals (Kipling's word) are regularly admired for the wits and the skillful way they get by -- and for the depth of their spirituality. Kim even notes that most Sahib's can appear dull-witted and out of place. However, there is no question that the resources and clear-minded understanding of the world give them the upper hand, and that is not thought unjust. Readers nursed on the later twentieth century view of colonialism will be off-put. But like I said, there is sense of a certain order, but there is no blanket denigration. In fact, the Sahibs who are truly culturally insensitive are in for beatdowns -- either figuratively or literally.
(Aside: I am not even slightly off-put by such things. I wouldn't judge the values of earlier times by the current ones, lest I be judged by young'ns. In fact, I'm getting to the point where I see the times of my youth regularly judged to be morally wanting and my reaction is almost always "As if your world is superior. You have no idea what you're talking about. Now get off my lawn!" So I'll stay off the lawn of the British Empire.)
I mention those things because we live in a world so obsessed with jockeying for socially correct poses. Kim soars by way of a colorful, sympathetic, and deeply endearing characters (of all cultural types) that Kipling laces throughout the book. The eye cast on these folks is clear sees no illusions, but it is generally celebratory, and we, along with Kim can revel in the wonder and mystery of the world. It is a genuine impulse, not a pose.
Should you read Kim? It's good for a curious and thoughtful mind. Although there is a fair amount of action, it is a bit dialogue heavy, but it's still a cut above what you would probably read in a modern book of similar themes. Kipling's prose is quite lovely and clever, although it takes a bit of attention to get into the groove. I would say yes, you should read it, if you're ready to put in the time and effort. Money is not a question as it is long out of copyright and is freely available in various formats at gutenberg.org. What's better than a great book for free?
[Tech] Figuring 8
Figuring 8: My new laptop has Windows 8. The Windows 8 user interface is based on the Windows tablet interface. Tablets are for consumption and computer (laptops) are for production. My laptop is for writing and picture editing -- production. There is no easy way to do that without an attached mouse and keyboard and a big ol' external monitor. Reading emails and browsing the web and consuming music/books/videos are better done on a tablet. Microsoft's plan with Windows 8 was to closer sync up the user interface for computers with its excellent tile-based mobile interface. This is the interface I have on my phone and it really is nice -- much slicker and more usable than the rather haphazard conglomerations of icons on an iPhone or Android. But it is something of a shock to suddenly find it replacing your desktop. I'm not sure it works so well for production.
Now, before I turn into Bitchy McWhiner, I have to point out that you can still get your old desktop back -- it's just not the default and it's not immediately discoverable how to manage switching between the standard desktop and the tile interface. It's enough of a problem that in an upcoming patch, Microsoft is making some tweaks to clear things up and let you have the old desktop back by default.
It has not turned out to be a popular update. Why on earth did they make this change? Was it a just bonehead mistake? Do they fundamentally misunderstand their market? Well, let me confess, I have done this myself; in my day job I manage a software team, including design and implementation. On a couple of occasions I have been involved in throwing a new interface paradigm at the unsuspecting populace. So maybe I can explain.
Unsuspecting people will reasonably believe that there is no reason for software to ever change other than incrementally. If there is some functionality to add to product, just add it to the existing product, why do you need to re-make anything. The problem with that is that it pre-supposes your design specs to the programmers were something like "Here's what we want to do but please allow us to do anything else we may think of in the future." The business of allowing anything else in the future is a) impossible to do comprehensively (anything is, effectively, everything), b) prohibitively expensive to define and approach. Often the idea of "allowing" something and actually implementing it on speculation is pretty close to the same thing. So "allowing" such things means more code, more testing, more maintenance, more testing, more documentation, more testing, more time, more testing -- the project will spin out of control before you even have a prototype. It might be possible to build such software but no one could afford it.
So a piece of software, not surprisingly, becomes an exercise in compromise, targeting and prioritizing. You get a controlled architecture that provides enough value to sell and allows as much flexibility to add on as possible. If you do it right, it can go for quite a few years, but eventually changes in the market or technology will require you to provide something you can't feasibly support. The wise trade-offs you made in design become roadblocks. That's when you build the next gen product. The next-gen product is another exercise in compromise and often that means compromising old users' habits in the service of viability in the brave new world that caused you to re-write the damn thing to begin with.
In the case of Windows 8 -- and this is pure speculation -- Microsoft saw a receding and graying desktop market. Tablets, phones, and touch technology in general were taking over. At some point our user interface is going to have to be driven by the mobile market, not the keyboard and mouse users. So they bit the bullet and designed a tile-centric version of Windows. People freaked. They didn't know how to manage the tiles with mouse and keyboard. The famous "Start" button is gone so when they finally find their old desktop they can't figure out how to access an application that isn't on the desktop without it. There is a way, of course, I figured it out via stumbling about but I'm used to this sort of thing -- Mom and Pop aren't.
In fact, I bet that thanks to all the usability testing Microsoft does, once you know how to do everything and get the settings to match your desires, it's probably as easy, if not easier, to do what you want in Windows 8. But getting there is a big problem. So Microsoft responds (correctly) by adding a few tweaks to an update to ease the transition. It's the right move. This will mitigate criticism and still keep Windows on its course of mobile-first design.
Although I did struggle along with everyone else, I can't fault Microsoft for the re-make. It has to be done in this business. The problem I have with it is two-fold. 1) I don't see any obvious advantage to Windows 8 over Windows 7. I'm sure it's faster and more stable, but an interface upheaval was not needed for that. This may come in time though, if Microsoft is right in their interpretation of the future. 2) Relatedly, I am not sold on the One Paradigm to Rule Them All plan. This is really a philosophical point, but it seems to me that we tend to obsess a bit about making everything similar. As if we should have this one interface that can handle all sorts of different tasks and if we do it properly, we can write it once and reuse it in different circumstances and the big benefit is everyone will immediately have an easier time jumping from phone to laptop to kiosk to tablet to the dashboard display in your car. I think that's not going to work. The actions and workflows required for disparate tasks are in themselves disparate. Trying to wedge them all into a single interface paradigm is going to mean they will likely all be compromised in some way -- in many cases they will be compromised with complexity and bloat.
So where does that leave us? If you are thrust into Windows 8, don't panic -- it'll just take some time, you'll get there, and it will be easier after the upcoming tweak. On the other hand don't expect great improvements in your life either. The net result may just be a mild, but temporary annoyance.
Software aside, the hardware has been sweet. It is a Dell XPS13. Dell had been on my avoid list for years because my first Dell laptop had been such a disaster. In fact, my first laptop provided by work was also a Dell and it was not very good either. Both had serious problems with their power management. My second work laptop has been much better. Enough that I was willing to give Dell another try. My personal HP was on its last legs -- freaky power management, unreliable boot ups, constantly running hard disk and fan. Death was close.
So I bought the Dell from the Microsoft Signature Store where they take the time to remove all of the crapware you find taking up space and doing strange things on so many brands. It's got a 256 gig solid state drive which is totally sweet. Nearly instant on and off. Dead silent. No unexpected freak outs hooking up peripherals. Light as a feather. So far it's been well-nigh perfect. Highly recommended.
Now, before I turn into Bitchy McWhiner, I have to point out that you can still get your old desktop back -- it's just not the default and it's not immediately discoverable how to manage switching between the standard desktop and the tile interface. It's enough of a problem that in an upcoming patch, Microsoft is making some tweaks to clear things up and let you have the old desktop back by default.
It has not turned out to be a popular update. Why on earth did they make this change? Was it a just bonehead mistake? Do they fundamentally misunderstand their market? Well, let me confess, I have done this myself; in my day job I manage a software team, including design and implementation. On a couple of occasions I have been involved in throwing a new interface paradigm at the unsuspecting populace. So maybe I can explain.
Unsuspecting people will reasonably believe that there is no reason for software to ever change other than incrementally. If there is some functionality to add to product, just add it to the existing product, why do you need to re-make anything. The problem with that is that it pre-supposes your design specs to the programmers were something like "Here's what we want to do but please allow us to do anything else we may think of in the future." The business of allowing anything else in the future is a) impossible to do comprehensively (anything is, effectively, everything), b) prohibitively expensive to define and approach. Often the idea of "allowing" something and actually implementing it on speculation is pretty close to the same thing. So "allowing" such things means more code, more testing, more maintenance, more testing, more documentation, more testing, more time, more testing -- the project will spin out of control before you even have a prototype. It might be possible to build such software but no one could afford it.
So a piece of software, not surprisingly, becomes an exercise in compromise, targeting and prioritizing. You get a controlled architecture that provides enough value to sell and allows as much flexibility to add on as possible. If you do it right, it can go for quite a few years, but eventually changes in the market or technology will require you to provide something you can't feasibly support. The wise trade-offs you made in design become roadblocks. That's when you build the next gen product. The next-gen product is another exercise in compromise and often that means compromising old users' habits in the service of viability in the brave new world that caused you to re-write the damn thing to begin with.
In the case of Windows 8 -- and this is pure speculation -- Microsoft saw a receding and graying desktop market. Tablets, phones, and touch technology in general were taking over. At some point our user interface is going to have to be driven by the mobile market, not the keyboard and mouse users. So they bit the bullet and designed a tile-centric version of Windows. People freaked. They didn't know how to manage the tiles with mouse and keyboard. The famous "Start" button is gone so when they finally find their old desktop they can't figure out how to access an application that isn't on the desktop without it. There is a way, of course, I figured it out via stumbling about but I'm used to this sort of thing -- Mom and Pop aren't.
In fact, I bet that thanks to all the usability testing Microsoft does, once you know how to do everything and get the settings to match your desires, it's probably as easy, if not easier, to do what you want in Windows 8. But getting there is a big problem. So Microsoft responds (correctly) by adding a few tweaks to an update to ease the transition. It's the right move. This will mitigate criticism and still keep Windows on its course of mobile-first design.
Although I did struggle along with everyone else, I can't fault Microsoft for the re-make. It has to be done in this business. The problem I have with it is two-fold. 1) I don't see any obvious advantage to Windows 8 over Windows 7. I'm sure it's faster and more stable, but an interface upheaval was not needed for that. This may come in time though, if Microsoft is right in their interpretation of the future. 2) Relatedly, I am not sold on the One Paradigm to Rule Them All plan. This is really a philosophical point, but it seems to me that we tend to obsess a bit about making everything similar. As if we should have this one interface that can handle all sorts of different tasks and if we do it properly, we can write it once and reuse it in different circumstances and the big benefit is everyone will immediately have an easier time jumping from phone to laptop to kiosk to tablet to the dashboard display in your car. I think that's not going to work. The actions and workflows required for disparate tasks are in themselves disparate. Trying to wedge them all into a single interface paradigm is going to mean they will likely all be compromised in some way -- in many cases they will be compromised with complexity and bloat.
So where does that leave us? If you are thrust into Windows 8, don't panic -- it'll just take some time, you'll get there, and it will be easier after the upcoming tweak. On the other hand don't expect great improvements in your life either. The net result may just be a mild, but temporary annoyance.
Software aside, the hardware has been sweet. It is a Dell XPS13. Dell had been on my avoid list for years because my first Dell laptop had been such a disaster. In fact, my first laptop provided by work was also a Dell and it was not very good either. Both had serious problems with their power management. My second work laptop has been much better. Enough that I was willing to give Dell another try. My personal HP was on its last legs -- freaky power management, unreliable boot ups, constantly running hard disk and fan. Death was close.
So I bought the Dell from the Microsoft Signature Store where they take the time to remove all of the crapware you find taking up space and doing strange things on so many brands. It's got a 256 gig solid state drive which is totally sweet. Nearly instant on and off. Dead silent. No unexpected freak outs hooking up peripherals. Light as a feather. So far it's been well-nigh perfect. Highly recommended.
[Vegas] Got Your Baccarat
Got Your Baccarat: Apparently Baccarat is the table game of the future in Vegas. On track to displace blackjack as the most popular table game.
Blackjack is pretty much a settled proposition. The house advantage is cut to the minimum by playing a specific strategy. Once you know that strategy you have no decisions to make. Playing hunches that go against that strategy will simply increase the house edge. Trying to "feel" the cards or react to trends is voodoo. The worst thing that can happen to an inexperienced gambler is to have a good blackjack session based on gut feel. He'll end up deluded, although from my point of view I'm glad he's there so the casinos can keep making money. You may at some point meet someone who claims to consistently win at blackjack; they are either mistaken, lying, or just haven't played enough yet. (Note I am discounting card counters who in some Rain Man-esque way can actually shift the odds against the house.)
But with blackjack, at least here is the strategy to learn. When to hit, fold, split, double down -- it takes a little effort to learn and it can be difficult to apply when they keep bringing you free drinks.
Now along comes baccarat. Baccarat has been noticeably popular among Asians in Vegas (a big demographic) as long as I have been going, but it's getting more widespread. I'm not sure of the attraction of Baccarat. It is an absolutely mindless game. There isn't really even a strategy. There is a "banker" and a "player". Cards are dealt without any decision or intervention. Either the player wins or the bankers wins or it's a tie. You bet on either the player or the banker (although you can bet on a tie, but that would be truly dumb) and it's 50-50 as to who will win. And each hand the casino takes a little cut. So it is essentially a coin flip with vig. There is no strategy involved, although the superstitious will follow some imagined one. House edge is similar to blackjack -- which is to say it's one of the better deals in table games.
Perhaps that's what makes it perfect. Anyone can walk up and play as well as anyone else. You sit with some friends or make new ones around the table. Sip some comp drinks. Have a good time. It's not like you'd be more likely to win if you were playing some other table game. Why not baccarat?
Note that the type of baccarat we are discussing is not what you see James Bond playing in Dr. No and Thunderball. That variant is called Chemin-de-fer and it is a more ritualistic game where you play against others players at the table (not the house). I know of nowhere in the U.S. where Chemin-de-fer is offered. It's a European thing.
None of this affects me. I gave up table games. I stick to sports betting and occasionally poker. At least in those cases you are not mathematically pre-destined to lose over time. In poker if you don't screw up, make good reads, and get some cards you can win. In sports betting if you outsmart the general public, you can win. As a rule, you don't win, but it's not out of the realm of possibility to outperform based on your own wit. I've got a way to go on poker. But I generally feel good about at least breaking even on my football bets. By comparison, you cannot outperform your statistical disadvantage in table games for longer than a brief period.
The psychology of gambling is fascinating. I'm currently reading The Odds, by Chad Millman, about sports gamblers in Vegas back in 1999. It's gripping both in its examination of the gamblers and for some historical perspective. But that's a review for next month.
Blackjack is pretty much a settled proposition. The house advantage is cut to the minimum by playing a specific strategy. Once you know that strategy you have no decisions to make. Playing hunches that go against that strategy will simply increase the house edge. Trying to "feel" the cards or react to trends is voodoo. The worst thing that can happen to an inexperienced gambler is to have a good blackjack session based on gut feel. He'll end up deluded, although from my point of view I'm glad he's there so the casinos can keep making money. You may at some point meet someone who claims to consistently win at blackjack; they are either mistaken, lying, or just haven't played enough yet. (Note I am discounting card counters who in some Rain Man-esque way can actually shift the odds against the house.)
But with blackjack, at least here is the strategy to learn. When to hit, fold, split, double down -- it takes a little effort to learn and it can be difficult to apply when they keep bringing you free drinks.
Now along comes baccarat. Baccarat has been noticeably popular among Asians in Vegas (a big demographic) as long as I have been going, but it's getting more widespread. I'm not sure of the attraction of Baccarat. It is an absolutely mindless game. There isn't really even a strategy. There is a "banker" and a "player". Cards are dealt without any decision or intervention. Either the player wins or the bankers wins or it's a tie. You bet on either the player or the banker (although you can bet on a tie, but that would be truly dumb) and it's 50-50 as to who will win. And each hand the casino takes a little cut. So it is essentially a coin flip with vig. There is no strategy involved, although the superstitious will follow some imagined one. House edge is similar to blackjack -- which is to say it's one of the better deals in table games.
Perhaps that's what makes it perfect. Anyone can walk up and play as well as anyone else. You sit with some friends or make new ones around the table. Sip some comp drinks. Have a good time. It's not like you'd be more likely to win if you were playing some other table game. Why not baccarat?
Note that the type of baccarat we are discussing is not what you see James Bond playing in Dr. No and Thunderball. That variant is called Chemin-de-fer and it is a more ritualistic game where you play against others players at the table (not the house). I know of nowhere in the U.S. where Chemin-de-fer is offered. It's a European thing.
None of this affects me. I gave up table games. I stick to sports betting and occasionally poker. At least in those cases you are not mathematically pre-destined to lose over time. In poker if you don't screw up, make good reads, and get some cards you can win. In sports betting if you outsmart the general public, you can win. As a rule, you don't win, but it's not out of the realm of possibility to outperform based on your own wit. I've got a way to go on poker. But I generally feel good about at least breaking even on my football bets. By comparison, you cannot outperform your statistical disadvantage in table games for longer than a brief period.
The psychology of gambling is fascinating. I'm currently reading The Odds, by Chad Millman, about sports gamblers in Vegas back in 1999. It's gripping both in its examination of the gamblers and for some historical perspective. But that's a review for next month.
Monday, April 08, 2013
The Month That Was - March 2013
The Month That Was - March 2013: We move into spring I move into Spring and I move into yard work. A better, stronger deck, three new trees, and assorted other odds and ends for this year. On the inside we have stone facing going onto the fireplace, which will be followed by a living room repaint. It never ends.
In the meantime, I got some solid travel done in March, which was a nice, but too brief, return to the old days. Before I was a homeowner, I would travel somewhere every month. I do need to find a way to go somewhere new this year. I've been hitting my old faithfuls pretty regularly for a couple of years now -- Southwest, Florida, etc. Even if it isn't exotic, it has to be new.
Also we have upgrades going on in the electronics front. I got a Kindle (see below) a new laptop (next month) and I'm thinking of switching to DirectTV from cable -- motivated partially by price and partially because I spend way too much time screaming at my DVR for not recording what it says it was going to. Grrrrrr.
[Travel] Heat Islands
[Travel, Vegas] Vegas Going Vegas
[Tech] Kindling
In the meantime, I got some solid travel done in March, which was a nice, but too brief, return to the old days. Before I was a homeowner, I would travel somewhere every month. I do need to find a way to go somewhere new this year. I've been hitting my old faithfuls pretty regularly for a couple of years now -- Southwest, Florida, etc. Even if it isn't exotic, it has to be new.
Also we have upgrades going on in the electronics front. I got a Kindle (see below) a new laptop (next month) and I'm thinking of switching to DirectTV from cable -- motivated partially by price and partially because I spend way too much time screaming at my DVR for not recording what it says it was going to. Grrrrrr.
[Travel] Heat Islands
[Travel, Vegas] Vegas Going Vegas
[Tech] Kindling
[Travel] Heat Islands
Heat Islands: (photos on smugmug) I increasingly have an ulterior motive for my trips to Florida and that is to scope out retirement sites. Yes, yes, I know. I am still many, many years away, and it's a presumption to even think about affording retirement of any kind. (At age 80 I may be greeting you at WalMart or serving your Egg McMuffin.) Still, when it comes to retirement I seem to be zeroing in on Florida which I probably shouldn't do with a jerk of the knee. I've been to many places that appeal for the golden years. With all the time I've spent in the Southwest, I've spotted probably dozens of little places mostly in Arizona that would work well. Sedona comes to mind (pricey). Tucson for convenience (but rather big city-ish). St. George, Utah seems almost ideal (although it does have an actual winter).
So I ask myself, why do I keep zeroing in on Florida? Wisdom of crowds perhaps? Familiarity? Proximity to Michigan? Ah ha. At retirement time, why would I care about proximity to Michigan? I will have permanently decamped. But the subconscious motivation reveals itself. Evidently I have in the back of my mind a wish for a vacation home -- somewhere to escape to coldest months of the northland. In that case proximity counts -- a 2 hour flight to FL beats a 4.5 hour flight out west. Then perhaps if I ever find myself actually able to retire, I can use said home for that purpose. I suppose visiting my 88-year-old mom in Sarasota might have something to do with my thoughts rambling in this direction.
First, I flew into Tampa and made my way to Dade City for a swamp run. Dade City is inland Florida -- not a beach for a hundred miles. Folks are occasionally surprised to learn that away from the coasts and far from Orlando, Florida is the rural South -- cypress trees and swamps and pulled pork. I pulled into my motel and asked at the front desk where I might be a able to grab a decent dinner. I was direct to three different barbecue joints. And there's a Wendy's down the street if you don't like barbecue.
In a nearby State park, Withlacoochee River Park to be exact, folks were about to Dance with Dirt. Dances with Dirt is a quarterly series of trail running events that is distinguished by the fact that they use the word "trail" very loosely. Over the course of the weekend, numerous events are held, from ultra-marathons down to 10Ks, including a unique 50-mile team relay event that involves a fair amount of time dealing with being lost in the wilderness. This being my first, I chose the shortest possible event -- the 10K.
The trail wound through the park along dirt roads and then into the swamp proper -- pushing through reed fields and ducking around low hanging moss. My time was abysmal, which I attribute to running with soaked shoes. And I nearly got lost twice but was redirected by one of my fellow runners both times, lest I disappear into the jaws of Brother Gator. Remarkably, I finished third in my age group. This achievement was mitigated by the fact that there were four people in my age group, but still, you gotta take the victories as they come.
And there was free beer at the finish. Dances with Dirt was a good time. Almost hippie-ishly low-key. Recommended.
The next stop was Sarasota where I got little time to explore but then there is little left in Sarasota for me to explore. Most of the time was spent with visiting my Mom and family welfare and such. Private matters, etc. I did manage to make a brief run down Longboat Key to Anna Maria Island and I have to note that, while still stunningly beautiful, the volume of traffic in season put me off a bit as far as considering them as a vacation/retirement target.
The next move was further south, to the islands around Ft. Myers. There are a slew of islands off the coast here, the most famous of which are Sanibel and it's sister Captiva. I've been there a couple of times and they are wonderful places, but they are expensive. And there is one main road along their spine and, in season, it resembles a parking lot. It can be the better part of an hour to travel the eight miles to the far end of Captiva. It's also $8 to get on the island by car (although I understand residents get a break on this in the form of a discount and an annual cap). Off season it's wonderful, but I skipped it this time.
Further to the north, accessed from the other side of the bay is Gasparilla, another barrier island, renowned for powdery beaches and seashells. It is loaded down with condo/resorts, very tastefully done, in the same completely understated and integrated style of Sanibel. It is smaller than Sanibel -- in fact the best thing to do is find your self a parking space and rent a golf cart to get around the island (or a bicycle of you're in reasonable condition). There's a smallish, walkable central area with shops and a handful of restaurants. At the south end is the State park/beach which is the main attraction. It can stand with best of the gulf, which means it can stand with the best in the world.
Gasparilla is a nice spot. Not as large or as busy as Sanibel, but still crowded. Getting a table at lunch in town could be an effort. In fact, I slid out of the center of town to a little tiki bar in strip mall where I was one of four lunch patrons for tacos with fresh grilled fish. Gasparilla is also at least a half hour closer to points north since you avoid the busy roads around the bay and the heart of Ft. Myers, meaning it's an easier shot to my Mom in Sarasota. But still -- it's high-end as far as real estate and, like Sanibel, it cost money to get on the island -- in this case only $6.
Aside: I don't know why I am getting so fixated on the these island access tolls. They really aren't that significant. Like I said, I think they are capped at something like $400 / year for residents, but even if they aren't, let's say I lived on Gasparilla year round and wanted to get on and off the island 300 days a year. That' s $1800. It seems like a lot but when you factor in the fact that there is no income tax in Florida and property taxes are significantly lower than anything here in Michigan, it actually starts to sound like a deal. It's just the niggling of getting dinged for the act of crossing a bridge that's causing me psychological issues. Lesson for life: Mind the bigger picture.
Next up, Pine Island. Pine Island is a channel island, not a barrier island. It has no beaches. It is fairly large, free to access, and pretty much entirely devoted to fishing. It is comparatively low-end -- there are a fair number of mobile homes and Old Florida fishing bungalows, but there are enclaves of better residences. One gets the impression that it is the back-of-the-house for the on-the-water industry in the area. Lots of marina space and services, and endless fishing charters. Peppered with open air casual fish restaurants. I don't fish, but I'd learn if I lived here.
Between the mainland and Pine Island sits Matlacha (pronounced Matt LaShay) Island -- a narrow strip of shabby chic shops, on-the-water restaurants, and classically run-down looking motels. It's a pinch point for traffic as you pass all these colorful places while crossing "the World's Most Fishingest bridge" and then you are on to Pine Island, no charge.
There are a couple of notable resorts -- one is the Useppa Island club, essentially a country club that does maintains a highly respected B&B. The other is the Tarpon Lodge, where I stayed. Tarpon Lodge is some pretty sweet digs. There is a very nice restaurant -- probably the best on the island. Nicely manicured bayside grounds. Standard hotel rooms are in the lodge building with a few cottages sprinkled over the grounds. Built in 1926, they advertise themselves as a place "frozen in time" and that strikes me as accurate. It's not just that the buildings are maintain to keep the same old world charm (including paper thin walls), but the seem to have only grudgingly brought their technology up to about 1970 (with the exception of included wi-fi). There is no facility for billing your drinks to your room. Credit cards are through those old manual sliders. Your TV is a 26" trinitron from the last days of Jimmy Carter. You get actual keys -- big square brass keys. The windows open. You also get a friendly personal greeting and a chat about any special needs you might have when you check in (rather than a cold stare from behind a big desk). You get amazing sunsets. Tarpon Lodge is a good spot.
Using Tarpon Lodge as a base, I proceeded to check out a couple of other, smaller islands, that you can only get to via the water.
Cabbage Key is an island full of curiosities and is the place to go if you really want to escape the world, but still have water and power. No cars, no paved roads, not even a convenience store. It is dominated by the Cabbage Key Inn where you can rent a room and eat in the very nice restaurant, or you can rent a house (there are a handful of rental homes on the island), and there are actual private homes (snowbirds I would guess). There is a lovely, winding nature trail that at one point of termination has a tree on which are hung numerous pairs of panties. There's an water/observation tower (not too high) from which you get a 360 view of the world. That's it. You can pretty much cover the entirety of the island in a couple of hours, which is what I did, including lunch in the restaurant.
And that's what most people do. You take one of the ferries over to the island and grab some lunch -- wander around a bit, then skedaddle. So, as you might guess, the Inn is hopping during lunch time. Waitlists, and so forth. It's worth it. The food is very good, but the atmosphere is the best. The place is nearly entirely covered walls to ceiling with taped-on one dollar bills. That's a thing here -- you sign a one dollar bill, maybe add an obnoxious little comment, then tape it to the wall or ceiling somewhere. It's quite a sight. Estimates range anywhere from 30,000 to 65,000 dollars is taped to the walls and ceilings -- including one signed by JFK and another one signed by Jimmy Buffett, from before he was famous.
I have to take issue, though, with another claim of the Cabbage Key Inn. They seem to be under the impression that Jimmy Buffet either wrote or was inspired to write Cheeseburger in Paradise here. That is bollocks. Cheeseburger in Paradise was conceived of while sailing in the British Virgins (per interviews with Jimmy). But I can't be too harsh, there isn't a burger joint in South Florida that doesn't make the same claim.
I don't know how long I could stay on Cabbage Key. The idea of serene isolation is appealing in principle, but in practice it gets really boring after a couple of days. And it would take me ten lifetimes to afford a house there. But I would make a lunch trip a must-do for any visit to the area.
The last island on my itinerary was North Captiva. There is Sanibel, which is famous, and its sister island immediately to the north, Captiva, connected by a short, barely noticeable bridge. North of that is North Captiva, which is not connected to anywhere by bridge. You boat in, or there is a small dirt landing stirp for planes that, were they any smaller, would be radio controlled. The north side of the island is filled with rental homes, quite sizeable, and vacation clubs (timeshares). The south is state land -- more fabulous beaches. Like Gasparilla, transportation is golf carts. As far as facilities go there are two restaurants, two gift shops, and a small grocery store, although the individual clubs often have their own private facilities.
It's quite lovely from what I saw, which wasn't much. I got off the water, found that all the golf carts were rented at the moment, and without a map or guideline in my head, started walking in the wrong direction. Eventually I got myself righted but with little time to explore. I did walk through the main community and it was pretty sweet. But it's important to remember that anything you need you are probably going to have to get by boating to the mainland or ordering it to be shipped. One guidebook claims that most people who visit bring too many clothes and not enough food.
It's very family oriented from what I saw. I suspect there are packs of families who visit every year, probably meet up with others who share their schedule. But that's what North Captiva is -- it is entirely dedicated to vacationers and snowbirds. And although there are a handful of shops, it strikes me as another place where after a day or two you'll be aching to spend some time off island.
And that was my trip. If I had to pick a sport right now, it would be on the northern end of Pine Island, but it's all still a way off. I still have an excuse to visit the gulf many times before settling in.
So I ask myself, why do I keep zeroing in on Florida? Wisdom of crowds perhaps? Familiarity? Proximity to Michigan? Ah ha. At retirement time, why would I care about proximity to Michigan? I will have permanently decamped. But the subconscious motivation reveals itself. Evidently I have in the back of my mind a wish for a vacation home -- somewhere to escape to coldest months of the northland. In that case proximity counts -- a 2 hour flight to FL beats a 4.5 hour flight out west. Then perhaps if I ever find myself actually able to retire, I can use said home for that purpose. I suppose visiting my 88-year-old mom in Sarasota might have something to do with my thoughts rambling in this direction.
First, I flew into Tampa and made my way to Dade City for a swamp run. Dade City is inland Florida -- not a beach for a hundred miles. Folks are occasionally surprised to learn that away from the coasts and far from Orlando, Florida is the rural South -- cypress trees and swamps and pulled pork. I pulled into my motel and asked at the front desk where I might be a able to grab a decent dinner. I was direct to three different barbecue joints. And there's a Wendy's down the street if you don't like barbecue.
In a nearby State park, Withlacoochee River Park to be exact, folks were about to Dance with Dirt. Dances with Dirt is a quarterly series of trail running events that is distinguished by the fact that they use the word "trail" very loosely. Over the course of the weekend, numerous events are held, from ultra-marathons down to 10Ks, including a unique 50-mile team relay event that involves a fair amount of time dealing with being lost in the wilderness. This being my first, I chose the shortest possible event -- the 10K.
The trail wound through the park along dirt roads and then into the swamp proper -- pushing through reed fields and ducking around low hanging moss. My time was abysmal, which I attribute to running with soaked shoes. And I nearly got lost twice but was redirected by one of my fellow runners both times, lest I disappear into the jaws of Brother Gator. Remarkably, I finished third in my age group. This achievement was mitigated by the fact that there were four people in my age group, but still, you gotta take the victories as they come.
And there was free beer at the finish. Dances with Dirt was a good time. Almost hippie-ishly low-key. Recommended.
The next stop was Sarasota where I got little time to explore but then there is little left in Sarasota for me to explore. Most of the time was spent with visiting my Mom and family welfare and such. Private matters, etc. I did manage to make a brief run down Longboat Key to Anna Maria Island and I have to note that, while still stunningly beautiful, the volume of traffic in season put me off a bit as far as considering them as a vacation/retirement target.
The next move was further south, to the islands around Ft. Myers. There are a slew of islands off the coast here, the most famous of which are Sanibel and it's sister Captiva. I've been there a couple of times and they are wonderful places, but they are expensive. And there is one main road along their spine and, in season, it resembles a parking lot. It can be the better part of an hour to travel the eight miles to the far end of Captiva. It's also $8 to get on the island by car (although I understand residents get a break on this in the form of a discount and an annual cap). Off season it's wonderful, but I skipped it this time.
Further to the north, accessed from the other side of the bay is Gasparilla, another barrier island, renowned for powdery beaches and seashells. It is loaded down with condo/resorts, very tastefully done, in the same completely understated and integrated style of Sanibel. It is smaller than Sanibel -- in fact the best thing to do is find your self a parking space and rent a golf cart to get around the island (or a bicycle of you're in reasonable condition). There's a smallish, walkable central area with shops and a handful of restaurants. At the south end is the State park/beach which is the main attraction. It can stand with best of the gulf, which means it can stand with the best in the world.
Gasparilla is a nice spot. Not as large or as busy as Sanibel, but still crowded. Getting a table at lunch in town could be an effort. In fact, I slid out of the center of town to a little tiki bar in strip mall where I was one of four lunch patrons for tacos with fresh grilled fish. Gasparilla is also at least a half hour closer to points north since you avoid the busy roads around the bay and the heart of Ft. Myers, meaning it's an easier shot to my Mom in Sarasota. But still -- it's high-end as far as real estate and, like Sanibel, it cost money to get on the island -- in this case only $6.
Aside: I don't know why I am getting so fixated on the these island access tolls. They really aren't that significant. Like I said, I think they are capped at something like $400 / year for residents, but even if they aren't, let's say I lived on Gasparilla year round and wanted to get on and off the island 300 days a year. That' s $1800. It seems like a lot but when you factor in the fact that there is no income tax in Florida and property taxes are significantly lower than anything here in Michigan, it actually starts to sound like a deal. It's just the niggling of getting dinged for the act of crossing a bridge that's causing me psychological issues. Lesson for life: Mind the bigger picture.
Next up, Pine Island. Pine Island is a channel island, not a barrier island. It has no beaches. It is fairly large, free to access, and pretty much entirely devoted to fishing. It is comparatively low-end -- there are a fair number of mobile homes and Old Florida fishing bungalows, but there are enclaves of better residences. One gets the impression that it is the back-of-the-house for the on-the-water industry in the area. Lots of marina space and services, and endless fishing charters. Peppered with open air casual fish restaurants. I don't fish, but I'd learn if I lived here.
Between the mainland and Pine Island sits Matlacha (pronounced Matt LaShay) Island -- a narrow strip of shabby chic shops, on-the-water restaurants, and classically run-down looking motels. It's a pinch point for traffic as you pass all these colorful places while crossing "the World's Most Fishingest bridge" and then you are on to Pine Island, no charge.
There are a couple of notable resorts -- one is the Useppa Island club, essentially a country club that does maintains a highly respected B&B. The other is the Tarpon Lodge, where I stayed. Tarpon Lodge is some pretty sweet digs. There is a very nice restaurant -- probably the best on the island. Nicely manicured bayside grounds. Standard hotel rooms are in the lodge building with a few cottages sprinkled over the grounds. Built in 1926, they advertise themselves as a place "frozen in time" and that strikes me as accurate. It's not just that the buildings are maintain to keep the same old world charm (including paper thin walls), but the seem to have only grudgingly brought their technology up to about 1970 (with the exception of included wi-fi). There is no facility for billing your drinks to your room. Credit cards are through those old manual sliders. Your TV is a 26" trinitron from the last days of Jimmy Carter. You get actual keys -- big square brass keys. The windows open. You also get a friendly personal greeting and a chat about any special needs you might have when you check in (rather than a cold stare from behind a big desk). You get amazing sunsets. Tarpon Lodge is a good spot.
Using Tarpon Lodge as a base, I proceeded to check out a couple of other, smaller islands, that you can only get to via the water.
Cabbage Key is an island full of curiosities and is the place to go if you really want to escape the world, but still have water and power. No cars, no paved roads, not even a convenience store. It is dominated by the Cabbage Key Inn where you can rent a room and eat in the very nice restaurant, or you can rent a house (there are a handful of rental homes on the island), and there are actual private homes (snowbirds I would guess). There is a lovely, winding nature trail that at one point of termination has a tree on which are hung numerous pairs of panties. There's an water/observation tower (not too high) from which you get a 360 view of the world. That's it. You can pretty much cover the entirety of the island in a couple of hours, which is what I did, including lunch in the restaurant.
And that's what most people do. You take one of the ferries over to the island and grab some lunch -- wander around a bit, then skedaddle. So, as you might guess, the Inn is hopping during lunch time. Waitlists, and so forth. It's worth it. The food is very good, but the atmosphere is the best. The place is nearly entirely covered walls to ceiling with taped-on one dollar bills. That's a thing here -- you sign a one dollar bill, maybe add an obnoxious little comment, then tape it to the wall or ceiling somewhere. It's quite a sight. Estimates range anywhere from 30,000 to 65,000 dollars is taped to the walls and ceilings -- including one signed by JFK and another one signed by Jimmy Buffett, from before he was famous.
I have to take issue, though, with another claim of the Cabbage Key Inn. They seem to be under the impression that Jimmy Buffet either wrote or was inspired to write Cheeseburger in Paradise here. That is bollocks. Cheeseburger in Paradise was conceived of while sailing in the British Virgins (per interviews with Jimmy). But I can't be too harsh, there isn't a burger joint in South Florida that doesn't make the same claim.
I don't know how long I could stay on Cabbage Key. The idea of serene isolation is appealing in principle, but in practice it gets really boring after a couple of days. And it would take me ten lifetimes to afford a house there. But I would make a lunch trip a must-do for any visit to the area.
The last island on my itinerary was North Captiva. There is Sanibel, which is famous, and its sister island immediately to the north, Captiva, connected by a short, barely noticeable bridge. North of that is North Captiva, which is not connected to anywhere by bridge. You boat in, or there is a small dirt landing stirp for planes that, were they any smaller, would be radio controlled. The north side of the island is filled with rental homes, quite sizeable, and vacation clubs (timeshares). The south is state land -- more fabulous beaches. Like Gasparilla, transportation is golf carts. As far as facilities go there are two restaurants, two gift shops, and a small grocery store, although the individual clubs often have their own private facilities.
It's quite lovely from what I saw, which wasn't much. I got off the water, found that all the golf carts were rented at the moment, and without a map or guideline in my head, started walking in the wrong direction. Eventually I got myself righted but with little time to explore. I did walk through the main community and it was pretty sweet. But it's important to remember that anything you need you are probably going to have to get by boating to the mainland or ordering it to be shipped. One guidebook claims that most people who visit bring too many clothes and not enough food.
It's very family oriented from what I saw. I suspect there are packs of families who visit every year, probably meet up with others who share their schedule. But that's what North Captiva is -- it is entirely dedicated to vacationers and snowbirds. And although there are a handful of shops, it strikes me as another place where after a day or two you'll be aching to spend some time off island.
And that was my trip. If I had to pick a sport right now, it would be on the northern end of Pine Island, but it's all still a way off. I still have an excuse to visit the gulf many times before settling in.
[Travel, Vegas] Vegas Going Vegas
Vegas Going Vegas: Her Royal Highness My Darling Miss Perfect Anna Banana turned 21. So that meant a trip to Vegas for me and for her Mom. And since Miss Anna is the center of the universe, it also meant a trip to Vegas for friends of hers from both coasts. Yeah, it was a thing.
Staying at the Bellagio for the first time in over a decade. I booked what I thought was a mid-level suite but the place was enormous -- a full sized living room, and giant bedroom and master bath, a wet bar as large as the one in my house (sadly unstocked). I actually had to double check my reservation to make sure I hadn't ended up in one of those four-figure suites by mistake. I would bet it approached 1200 sq. ft.
Another wonderful thing about the Bellagio is the pool, which is as classically beautiful as I remember. In honor of the occasion I sequestered a cabana, which turned out to be a brilliant move as it became the center for all comings and going of the various twenty-somethings all day. It had a fridge which was useful since the kids were ordering drinks by the handful then storing them fridge since the waitress couldn't keep up with them.
Naturally in Vegas, dinner is an event and our main dinner this time around was at Bouchon. Definitely high end French cuisine. Rich and tasty stuff -- I especially thought the appetizers -- escargot, bone marrow, foie gras -- were astounding. Everything was exceptionally well prepared. But identifying great restaurants in Vegas is pretty easy. They're everywhere.
Another one: D.O.C.G., an Italian place at the Cosmo. About the perfect balance of casual atmosphere and high end food. The homemade pasta was flawless. Ingredients were absolute top quality. Like I said, you run out of superlatives when describing these places.
Throw in a restorative visit to Qua, the spa at Caesars, and you have a full trip.
While we're on the topic, it seems that Vegas is booming again. There have been some lean years of late. After the boom of a decade ago, everyone and their Uncle Guido had a project of some sort. Most were cancelled outright (Las Ramblas). Some got started then killed with buildings left half done (Echelon). Others got completed and have yet to be profitable (City Center).
Now there is a huge complex in process for the area behind Harrah's called The Linq, which is going to feature an observations wheel along with the requisite bars and restaurants. In fact, there are two other observation wheels in planning -- one across from City Center where the Hawaiian Marketplace is, and one across from Mandalay Bay which would anchor the south end of the east side of the strip. Linq and it's wheel will make it. The others...?
Meanwhile, the low-end casino-hotels on the strip are disappearing and or being upgraded. Tropicana went through a major upgrade last year and the hotel operations will be taken over by Hilton's Doubletree division. That's good. Doubletrees are nice value level properties and the Trop definitely needed an influx of niceness.
The Imperial Palace is being remade into The Quad. I shall miss the IP. It was definitely low end but I had some great times in their high-energy casino back when I played table games (I confine myself to poker and sports betting now), even when I was losing big. It remains to be seen how The Quad will turn out, but it sounds like it was designed for college students. If they upgrade the rooms and restaurant it will be a plus. I would not have stayed or dined at the IP if you paid me. I'm gonna miss the Dr. Hahn's Secret Island Fortress decor most of all.
The Sahara is being remade into the SLS. Sahara was classy in the Rat Pack days, but barely on life-support for the last couple of decades. Looks like it's moving upscale. Following the theme of TLAs the former Las Vegas Hilton is becoming the LVH, although it appears little is changing there, so I would consider it mid-range. It still has the most comprehensive sports book in the universe and is right on the monorail line. The odd and out-of-place Bill's Gambling Hall, with arguably the best location in the world, is being taken over by Gansevoort - a very high-end outfit with hotels in Manhattan and South Beach. THE hotel, the high-end sister to Mandalay Bay, is going to be operated by the Morgans Hotel Group, famed for the the soaringly expensive, yet unprofitable, Delano in South Beach. Casino Royale is gone to make way for The Linq. MGM is renovating the entire west side of the strip from NYNY to City Center into a cohesive pedestrian friendly promenade including a beer garden, food trucks, and a performance stage. Wheeeee!
The biggest project is the purchase of the Echelon project by the Malaysian gambling company the Genting Group. Echelon was going to be a City Center competitor in the previous boom but got abandoned in the crash. It is now scheduled to be reborn as a sprawling hotel casino complex called Resorts World that is specifically targeting Asian tourists.
And I haven't even touched on all the changes downtown on Fremont Street. But just conceptually it's interesting to note that the portion of income Strip properties derive from gambling has been dropping. Not surprising considering how they have squeezed their low-roller gambling patrons. Gambling action appears to be moving to Fremont Street where you can get better percentages on the table games.
Interesting times. It's nice to see things picking up and getting crazy again. Gives me new stuff to see and do. Although I have to admit, with all the new development I don't see how these places are going to not end up eating each other's lunch. Through all the flash and promise, you can see the seeds of the next downturn being sewn.
Staying at the Bellagio for the first time in over a decade. I booked what I thought was a mid-level suite but the place was enormous -- a full sized living room, and giant bedroom and master bath, a wet bar as large as the one in my house (sadly unstocked). I actually had to double check my reservation to make sure I hadn't ended up in one of those four-figure suites by mistake. I would bet it approached 1200 sq. ft.
Another wonderful thing about the Bellagio is the pool, which is as classically beautiful as I remember. In honor of the occasion I sequestered a cabana, which turned out to be a brilliant move as it became the center for all comings and going of the various twenty-somethings all day. It had a fridge which was useful since the kids were ordering drinks by the handful then storing them fridge since the waitress couldn't keep up with them.
Naturally in Vegas, dinner is an event and our main dinner this time around was at Bouchon. Definitely high end French cuisine. Rich and tasty stuff -- I especially thought the appetizers -- escargot, bone marrow, foie gras -- were astounding. Everything was exceptionally well prepared. But identifying great restaurants in Vegas is pretty easy. They're everywhere.
Another one: D.O.C.G., an Italian place at the Cosmo. About the perfect balance of casual atmosphere and high end food. The homemade pasta was flawless. Ingredients were absolute top quality. Like I said, you run out of superlatives when describing these places.
Throw in a restorative visit to Qua, the spa at Caesars, and you have a full trip.
While we're on the topic, it seems that Vegas is booming again. There have been some lean years of late. After the boom of a decade ago, everyone and their Uncle Guido had a project of some sort. Most were cancelled outright (Las Ramblas). Some got started then killed with buildings left half done (Echelon). Others got completed and have yet to be profitable (City Center).
Now there is a huge complex in process for the area behind Harrah's called The Linq, which is going to feature an observations wheel along with the requisite bars and restaurants. In fact, there are two other observation wheels in planning -- one across from City Center where the Hawaiian Marketplace is, and one across from Mandalay Bay which would anchor the south end of the east side of the strip. Linq and it's wheel will make it. The others...?
Meanwhile, the low-end casino-hotels on the strip are disappearing and or being upgraded. Tropicana went through a major upgrade last year and the hotel operations will be taken over by Hilton's Doubletree division. That's good. Doubletrees are nice value level properties and the Trop definitely needed an influx of niceness.
The Imperial Palace is being remade into The Quad. I shall miss the IP. It was definitely low end but I had some great times in their high-energy casino back when I played table games (I confine myself to poker and sports betting now), even when I was losing big. It remains to be seen how The Quad will turn out, but it sounds like it was designed for college students. If they upgrade the rooms and restaurant it will be a plus. I would not have stayed or dined at the IP if you paid me. I'm gonna miss the Dr. Hahn's Secret Island Fortress decor most of all.
The Sahara is being remade into the SLS. Sahara was classy in the Rat Pack days, but barely on life-support for the last couple of decades. Looks like it's moving upscale. Following the theme of TLAs the former Las Vegas Hilton is becoming the LVH, although it appears little is changing there, so I would consider it mid-range. It still has the most comprehensive sports book in the universe and is right on the monorail line. The odd and out-of-place Bill's Gambling Hall, with arguably the best location in the world, is being taken over by Gansevoort - a very high-end outfit with hotels in Manhattan and South Beach. THE hotel, the high-end sister to Mandalay Bay, is going to be operated by the Morgans Hotel Group, famed for the the soaringly expensive, yet unprofitable, Delano in South Beach. Casino Royale is gone to make way for The Linq. MGM is renovating the entire west side of the strip from NYNY to City Center into a cohesive pedestrian friendly promenade including a beer garden, food trucks, and a performance stage. Wheeeee!
The biggest project is the purchase of the Echelon project by the Malaysian gambling company the Genting Group. Echelon was going to be a City Center competitor in the previous boom but got abandoned in the crash. It is now scheduled to be reborn as a sprawling hotel casino complex called Resorts World that is specifically targeting Asian tourists.
And I haven't even touched on all the changes downtown on Fremont Street. But just conceptually it's interesting to note that the portion of income Strip properties derive from gambling has been dropping. Not surprising considering how they have squeezed their low-roller gambling patrons. Gambling action appears to be moving to Fremont Street where you can get better percentages on the table games.
Interesting times. It's nice to see things picking up and getting crazy again. Gives me new stuff to see and do. Although I have to admit, with all the new development I don't see how these places are going to not end up eating each other's lunch. Through all the flash and promise, you can see the seeds of the next downturn being sewn.
[Tech] Kindling
Kindling: Still unsure of my purchase of a Kindle HD. I wanted a tablet because I needed something middling between my phone (which is always with me) and my laptop (which I only want to take if I plan to write while away), and because when I finish reading a book while away, it would be supremely awesome to be able to just download another at will, and because all the cool kids have them.
Choices were: iPad, Surface, Kindle, Nexus.
The iPad is too expensive, and I dislike the Apple ecosystem. The Surface (RT) would have been nice and possibly the best choice for me since I've glommed on to the Microsoft ecosystem, but it too is expensive also. That left the Nexus and Kindle in my price range. Both are Android devices, but the Kindle is severely modified and limited to keep you as close to Amazon as possible. Nexus is wide open.
There are pros and cons to each strategy. With the Nexus you can do anything that any android device can do and you also have the same learning curve you would get with any bare Android device. Kindle smoothes the way with a reasonably slick interface, and certainly, if your goal is devouring media as simply and efficiently as possible, Kindle's seamless access to the Amazon libraries of movies, TV, music, books, and comprehensive shopping will appeal. Kindle, since it is intended to be a conduit for you to buy stuff from Amazon, is also a little cheaper.
Now, you can still get all the Amazon stuff if you have a Nexus, although there is probably an app or two to download. But what you can't get is Kindle's lending library. If you are an Amazon prime member, Kindle provides the ability to borrow one book a month. Neat eh? The selection is limited and the publishers have to opt in, but it's a pretty sweet idea -- especially for avid readers like me.
What you lose with the Kindle is the ability to download all the possible 900 bajillion android apps. Amazon maintains it's own library of android apps and you have to select from those. Needless to say, you will not find any Google apps in the Amazon library. This is not the end of the world because even though you can't directly download them from Amazon, you can do something called sideloading, where you download them to your PC and copy them from your PC to your Kindle then install them. Still it's annoying when you have to do it. Again, I believe Amazon thinks that people use Kindle to primarily consume entertainment and if they are right, and they probably are, this is not an issue. But honestly, a number of best of breed android apps are not in the Amazon App store.
So why did I pick Kindle? Essentially because of the price and the lending library. But to be honest, I've not borrowed anything. There is really no easy way to browse it, that I can find, and I haven't come across anything I was interested in reading. That's not to say there is nothing worth reading, it's just mostly more popular/commercial titles that I have little interest in. And there have been a couple of times I have had to go through the sideload process to get apps I wanted, so I've experienced the downside without the upside.
Not only that, the setup process had a couple of snafus also, including Kindle's inability to locate my gmail account, until I changed the address to @googlemail.com instead of @gmail.com. My phone -- MIcrosoft Phone 7 which is equivalent (roughly) to RT on the Surface -- was able to set itself up without a second thought from me.
I'm hesitant to say I don't recommend Kindle, because for it's intended purpose -- eating commercial media by the great gobfulls -- I'm sure it is nearly perfect. Especially in conjunction with Amazon Prime. I just didn't realize that I'm not perfectly situated in that demographic. If I had it to do over, I would probably go with the Nexus. Or possibly the Surface RT out of consistency because I do so like the tile interface on Microsoft devices.
(That tile interface works less well on a laptop in Windows 8, as I have discovered thanks to the new Dell laptop I just purchased. But that story is for next month.)
Choices were: iPad, Surface, Kindle, Nexus.
The iPad is too expensive, and I dislike the Apple ecosystem. The Surface (RT) would have been nice and possibly the best choice for me since I've glommed on to the Microsoft ecosystem, but it too is expensive also. That left the Nexus and Kindle in my price range. Both are Android devices, but the Kindle is severely modified and limited to keep you as close to Amazon as possible. Nexus is wide open.
There are pros and cons to each strategy. With the Nexus you can do anything that any android device can do and you also have the same learning curve you would get with any bare Android device. Kindle smoothes the way with a reasonably slick interface, and certainly, if your goal is devouring media as simply and efficiently as possible, Kindle's seamless access to the Amazon libraries of movies, TV, music, books, and comprehensive shopping will appeal. Kindle, since it is intended to be a conduit for you to buy stuff from Amazon, is also a little cheaper.
Now, you can still get all the Amazon stuff if you have a Nexus, although there is probably an app or two to download. But what you can't get is Kindle's lending library. If you are an Amazon prime member, Kindle provides the ability to borrow one book a month. Neat eh? The selection is limited and the publishers have to opt in, but it's a pretty sweet idea -- especially for avid readers like me.
What you lose with the Kindle is the ability to download all the possible 900 bajillion android apps. Amazon maintains it's own library of android apps and you have to select from those. Needless to say, you will not find any Google apps in the Amazon library. This is not the end of the world because even though you can't directly download them from Amazon, you can do something called sideloading, where you download them to your PC and copy them from your PC to your Kindle then install them. Still it's annoying when you have to do it. Again, I believe Amazon thinks that people use Kindle to primarily consume entertainment and if they are right, and they probably are, this is not an issue. But honestly, a number of best of breed android apps are not in the Amazon App store.
So why did I pick Kindle? Essentially because of the price and the lending library. But to be honest, I've not borrowed anything. There is really no easy way to browse it, that I can find, and I haven't come across anything I was interested in reading. That's not to say there is nothing worth reading, it's just mostly more popular/commercial titles that I have little interest in. And there have been a couple of times I have had to go through the sideload process to get apps I wanted, so I've experienced the downside without the upside.
Not only that, the setup process had a couple of snafus also, including Kindle's inability to locate my gmail account, until I changed the address to @googlemail.com instead of @gmail.com. My phone -- MIcrosoft Phone 7 which is equivalent (roughly) to RT on the Surface -- was able to set itself up without a second thought from me.
I'm hesitant to say I don't recommend Kindle, because for it's intended purpose -- eating commercial media by the great gobfulls -- I'm sure it is nearly perfect. Especially in conjunction with Amazon Prime. I just didn't realize that I'm not perfectly situated in that demographic. If I had it to do over, I would probably go with the Nexus. Or possibly the Surface RT out of consistency because I do so like the tile interface on Microsoft devices.
(That tile interface works less well on a laptop in Windows 8, as I have discovered thanks to the new Dell laptop I just purchased. But that story is for next month.)
Thursday, March 07, 2013
The Month That Was - February 2013
The Month That Was - February 2013: Well I just got a new Kindle Fire 8.9, and a new camera - a Canon point-and-shoot. These, however, will be topics for next month. As will the return of travel posts. I have a couple of trips planned for March. February was pretty much same ol' same old. It was exactly as a cold as you would expect for a Michigan winter. I got the snow blower out twice. And, as usual for February, reached a point where I got sick of winter. Like I said, typical. Oh, and after a false start, I finally closed on my condo -- back to owning a single household -- with only a small snafu or two.
I have been alive for 629 months. February 2013 was one of them.
[Books] Book Look: Erasure
[Detroit] Fluff Among the Ruins
[Movies] Flick Check: Gettin' Some Action
I have been alive for 629 months. February 2013 was one of them.
[Books] Book Look: Erasure
[Detroit] Fluff Among the Ruins
[Movies] Flick Check: Gettin' Some Action
[Books] Book Look: Erasure, by Percival Everett
Book Look: Erasure by Percival Everett: A gem. This book stands as a fine example of the what I would like to see more of in novels, so regular readers are going to get an eyeful of repeat commentary.
Thelonious "Monk" Ellison is a literature professor, a skillful wordsmith who riles up academia with unpopular tracts on the sorts of post-modern literary theories that are completely undifferentiated from the schizophrenic rants of street people. He comes from an upper middle class family -- nearly blueblood -- he has a sister and a gay older brother who are both doctors, his father has passed and his mother is deteriorating, he likes woodworking and fly-fishing. In short, he is the perfect picture of the bourgeois. He is also black.
Here we have the formula for some heavy-handed socio-political commentary (Everett is also black) and education on the correct ways of thinking, but instead we get sharp and funny satire with outside the box characters. A very pleasant surprise. The socio-political angle is that Ellison, a skilled experimentalist, a man who is truly passionate about literature, simply cannot deal with the fact that the latest bestseller is an abomination of a illiterate ebonics that is being celebrated as a gritty, genuine take the authentic black experience, entitled We's Lives in da Ghetto. It disgusts him both personally and artistically.
So, in a fit of spitefulness, Ellison writes a novel: My Pafology, an illiterate, profane, recounting of the life of an animalistic ghetto-dweller. A parody that no one will see as such. He invents a false identity (Stagg R. Leigh) under which to publish it and proceeds to get rich -- disgusting himself in the process, but also providing for family and loved ones.
While that is the clever and quite humorous scaffolding, the meat of the novel -- and what appeals to me so much -- is that it is deeply personal. By that I mean much of the novel is taken up with Ellison's personal life. His siblings, though loving, have unresolved issues with him, since he was always the favorite, the special one. His elderly mother is quickly descending into senescence. His gay plastic surgeon brother is deep in debt and is in a legal battle to see his children. He discovers his late father had an affair that produced a child. His sister is killed in the bombing of her abortion clinic -- even this is not treated as a socio-political event but a personal loss. He is fighting to just to stay engaged with a world where he really has no kindred souls, or at least feels he doesn't. The big open issue is whether he is truly out of place or has separated himself. And, by the way, much of this is terribly funny.
The key take-away: All the bombastic societal satire has less meaning than the personal tale of a family no more or less unusual than any others. In the midst of the seemingly boundless social symbolism he embodies, his normal life is what counts. For me (as you know by now) this is huge. It's as if all my whining about the subjugation of the personal to glorify to socio-political is the arts has been heard. Well, was heard: Erasure is 12 years old now.
Should you read Erasure? Yes. I can't imagine anyone not getting a kick out of it. Everett has a lot in his bag of tricks -- imagined dialogue between historical figures, POV shifts, fantasy sequences, and of course, the entire novella-within-a-novel of My Pafology -- and these can at times seem pretentious, but since his lead character is a bit of a pretentious academic it's appropriate. Nice comedy. Good stuff all 'round. Makes me want to check out his other titles.
Aside: A bubbling sentiment running through Erasure is the apocalyptic frustration an author feels when he tries to write with subtle insight and intelligence with an eye towards illuminating some sliver of humanity, only to see some formulaic sixth-grade level potboiler or vampire novel soar to the top of the bestseller list while his sales are confined to friends and family. It's an ugly sentiment, one rife with arrogance and pettiness, one we know to suppress, but we all have it. Good on Everett for having a bit of fun with it.
Thelonious "Monk" Ellison is a literature professor, a skillful wordsmith who riles up academia with unpopular tracts on the sorts of post-modern literary theories that are completely undifferentiated from the schizophrenic rants of street people. He comes from an upper middle class family -- nearly blueblood -- he has a sister and a gay older brother who are both doctors, his father has passed and his mother is deteriorating, he likes woodworking and fly-fishing. In short, he is the perfect picture of the bourgeois. He is also black.
Here we have the formula for some heavy-handed socio-political commentary (Everett is also black) and education on the correct ways of thinking, but instead we get sharp and funny satire with outside the box characters. A very pleasant surprise. The socio-political angle is that Ellison, a skilled experimentalist, a man who is truly passionate about literature, simply cannot deal with the fact that the latest bestseller is an abomination of a illiterate ebonics that is being celebrated as a gritty, genuine take the authentic black experience, entitled We's Lives in da Ghetto. It disgusts him both personally and artistically.
So, in a fit of spitefulness, Ellison writes a novel: My Pafology, an illiterate, profane, recounting of the life of an animalistic ghetto-dweller. A parody that no one will see as such. He invents a false identity (Stagg R. Leigh) under which to publish it and proceeds to get rich -- disgusting himself in the process, but also providing for family and loved ones.
While that is the clever and quite humorous scaffolding, the meat of the novel -- and what appeals to me so much -- is that it is deeply personal. By that I mean much of the novel is taken up with Ellison's personal life. His siblings, though loving, have unresolved issues with him, since he was always the favorite, the special one. His elderly mother is quickly descending into senescence. His gay plastic surgeon brother is deep in debt and is in a legal battle to see his children. He discovers his late father had an affair that produced a child. His sister is killed in the bombing of her abortion clinic -- even this is not treated as a socio-political event but a personal loss. He is fighting to just to stay engaged with a world where he really has no kindred souls, or at least feels he doesn't. The big open issue is whether he is truly out of place or has separated himself. And, by the way, much of this is terribly funny.
The key take-away: All the bombastic societal satire has less meaning than the personal tale of a family no more or less unusual than any others. In the midst of the seemingly boundless social symbolism he embodies, his normal life is what counts. For me (as you know by now) this is huge. It's as if all my whining about the subjugation of the personal to glorify to socio-political is the arts has been heard. Well, was heard: Erasure is 12 years old now.
Should you read Erasure? Yes. I can't imagine anyone not getting a kick out of it. Everett has a lot in his bag of tricks -- imagined dialogue between historical figures, POV shifts, fantasy sequences, and of course, the entire novella-within-a-novel of My Pafology -- and these can at times seem pretentious, but since his lead character is a bit of a pretentious academic it's appropriate. Nice comedy. Good stuff all 'round. Makes me want to check out his other titles.
Aside: A bubbling sentiment running through Erasure is the apocalyptic frustration an author feels when he tries to write with subtle insight and intelligence with an eye towards illuminating some sliver of humanity, only to see some formulaic sixth-grade level potboiler or vampire novel soar to the top of the bestseller list while his sales are confined to friends and family. It's an ugly sentiment, one rife with arrogance and pettiness, one we know to suppress, but we all have it. Good on Everett for having a bit of fun with it.
[Detroit] Fluff Among the Ruins
Fluff Among the Ruins: For whatever reason, Detroit has popped up in the news cycle again. A new book by Charlie LeDuff, Detroit: An American Autopsy, and Governor Rick Snyder's attempt to appoint an emergency financial manager for the city probably have a lot to do with it. And as usual, the popular press gets a hold of the stories and passes them off couched in a superficial narrative. I feel the need, once again, to disabuse folks of a few notions that may be encountered.
1) Don't confuse Detroit with the Detroit suburbs, all of which are boring, but some are doing well and quite nice to live in. Don't confuse Detroit with nearby cities such as Ann Arbor or Flint. Ann Arbor is doing quite well, thanks. And Flint is...well, you are forgiven for confusing Detroit and Flint. Lastly, don't confuse Detroit with the whole of Michigan. Michigan is an astoundingly beautiful place that you should count yourself lucky to see. Detroit is Detroit and only Detroit.
2) Detroit is not in the midst of a renaissance. Have some artists taken up residence? Yes, but they are using Detroit as a gimmick, a way to attract attention. They are not building an artist's culture. If any of them hit the big time, they will boot for one of the coasts faster than you can chug a Vernors. This is not Tribeca of thirty years back. Of course, there's the urban farming that is going to make up for the fact that there isn't a single grocery store in the city, right? There's a reason why grocery stores were developed in cities. I leave it as an exercise for the reader to figure out why local farming cannot sustain a city. Urban farming is another gimmick, a romantic hobby for folks of a certain stripe. What about all the movies being filmed in the city? The production companies are getting tax breaks; they are getting paid to film in Detroit. If Gary, IN or Peoria, IL decides to pay them more, they'll go there. Business relocations? Every sizable business that has moved to Detroit has been bribed. No small businessman in his right mind would start-up in the city. New Stadiums? There is a mass of literature about how new stadiums don't pay off. You can tell this by all the boarded up windows and dilapidated buildings next to Comerica Park and Ford Field after all these years. Casino gambling? Detroit's single lifeline to actual revenue is the three casinos, there will be no more. Whatever you are getting from them each year is your annual income. Forever.
3) Detroit's troubles did not start with UAW strikes or the '68 race riots. Detroit's troubles did not start with the oil crisis and higher quality imported autos. Detroit's troubles did not start when Coleman Young chased out all the shiny, happy white people. Detroit has been dying for the entirety of my life. Anyone who has living memory of Detroit in ascendency is looking seventy in the teeth or the rear view mirror. Detroit is not just down on its luck. These are deeply-ingrained, multi-generational dysfunctions. They will not go away by any plans made in the City Council or bills from the State Legislature or handouts from Obama. Detroit is a goner. It will hit absolute rock bottom, die and become something else, something other than Detroit (a federally controlled charter city? a Road Warrior-style wasteland? who knows what?). How close we are to absolute rock bottom I don't know.
4) Detroit is not a universal cautionary tale. The latest trope goes something like "We had better fix Detroit because Detroit is the future of our cities." Bollocks. Detroit is not New York City is not Austin is not Salt Lake City is not New Orleans is not Chattanooga is not Spokane is not Chicago. Each city varies in geography, financial resources, history -- all the way down to the psycho-social makeup of it residents and leaders. Many old mill towns from the previous century have pretty much disappeared. Many pioneer and gold rush cities are now ghost towns. And, two words: Machu Picchu. Cities fall and vanish without taking the whole world with them.
Although I hear Machu Picchu is currently undergoing a renaissance thanks to the tourist industry.
1) Don't confuse Detroit with the Detroit suburbs, all of which are boring, but some are doing well and quite nice to live in. Don't confuse Detroit with nearby cities such as Ann Arbor or Flint. Ann Arbor is doing quite well, thanks. And Flint is...well, you are forgiven for confusing Detroit and Flint. Lastly, don't confuse Detroit with the whole of Michigan. Michigan is an astoundingly beautiful place that you should count yourself lucky to see. Detroit is Detroit and only Detroit.
2) Detroit is not in the midst of a renaissance. Have some artists taken up residence? Yes, but they are using Detroit as a gimmick, a way to attract attention. They are not building an artist's culture. If any of them hit the big time, they will boot for one of the coasts faster than you can chug a Vernors. This is not Tribeca of thirty years back. Of course, there's the urban farming that is going to make up for the fact that there isn't a single grocery store in the city, right? There's a reason why grocery stores were developed in cities. I leave it as an exercise for the reader to figure out why local farming cannot sustain a city. Urban farming is another gimmick, a romantic hobby for folks of a certain stripe. What about all the movies being filmed in the city? The production companies are getting tax breaks; they are getting paid to film in Detroit. If Gary, IN or Peoria, IL decides to pay them more, they'll go there. Business relocations? Every sizable business that has moved to Detroit has been bribed. No small businessman in his right mind would start-up in the city. New Stadiums? There is a mass of literature about how new stadiums don't pay off. You can tell this by all the boarded up windows and dilapidated buildings next to Comerica Park and Ford Field after all these years. Casino gambling? Detroit's single lifeline to actual revenue is the three casinos, there will be no more. Whatever you are getting from them each year is your annual income. Forever.
3) Detroit's troubles did not start with UAW strikes or the '68 race riots. Detroit's troubles did not start with the oil crisis and higher quality imported autos. Detroit's troubles did not start when Coleman Young chased out all the shiny, happy white people. Detroit has been dying for the entirety of my life. Anyone who has living memory of Detroit in ascendency is looking seventy in the teeth or the rear view mirror. Detroit is not just down on its luck. These are deeply-ingrained, multi-generational dysfunctions. They will not go away by any plans made in the City Council or bills from the State Legislature or handouts from Obama. Detroit is a goner. It will hit absolute rock bottom, die and become something else, something other than Detroit (a federally controlled charter city? a Road Warrior-style wasteland? who knows what?). How close we are to absolute rock bottom I don't know.
4) Detroit is not a universal cautionary tale. The latest trope goes something like "We had better fix Detroit because Detroit is the future of our cities." Bollocks. Detroit is not New York City is not Austin is not Salt Lake City is not New Orleans is not Chattanooga is not Spokane is not Chicago. Each city varies in geography, financial resources, history -- all the way down to the psycho-social makeup of it residents and leaders. Many old mill towns from the previous century have pretty much disappeared. Many pioneer and gold rush cities are now ghost towns. And, two words: Machu Picchu. Cities fall and vanish without taking the whole world with them.
Although I hear Machu Picchu is currently undergoing a renaissance thanks to the tourist industry.
[Movies] Flick Check: Gettin' Some Action
Flick Check: Gettin' Some Action: Quick hits on three action films I recently got access to by one means or another.
Skyfall.Trying to remember the first James Bond film I ever saw...and I think it was You Only Live Twice, in the theatre when I was very young -- maybe 7 or 8. It may not have been first run at the time, but it was pretty close. I'm sure I saw a few of the Connerys when they hit one of the three networks as big events back in the late 60s, but the next one I remember seeing first run was Live and Let Die, Roger Moore's first effort. I would have been in high school. Hmm. I have no idea what that symbolizes other than that I am old. Skyfall is a high end Bond flick. The plot and dialogue are run-of-the-mill dumb, but not over-the-top shameful like the worst of them. The action is OK, although no match for the parkour sequence in Casino Royale. What this one has going for it is that it is absolutely beautiful. Every shot looks like a framed painting. And then there is the acting horsepower-- Dench, Bardem, Craig -- that make the inane story seem reasonable. Better Bond than most, but not particularly fun.
The Amazing Spiderman. Rebooted so soon? Is that too a sign of my age -- my relatively long take on the passage of time? The first Spiderman movie came out in 2002. For a 22-year-old that's half a life ago. For me it was just yesterday. Top notch action, as my fear of heights will testify. Absolute perfection in casting. Dead on in the Marvel-Comics-irony tone. There's no point in going into it too deeply except to say it is just what you expect, very skillfully done. It breaks no new ground in story, just minor variations on the Spidey mythology. This whole business of "rebooting" makes me wonder whether future generations are going to play with these stories and characters the way we play with Greek Mythology. Superman, Batman, Spiderman -- all have been altered and retold (rebooted) for differing effects just in our lifetimes. Star Trek has also. And I'm guessing Star Wars will. Hell, there have been like nine Hulk movies in the past decade. On the other hand, future generations might just wonder what all this childish nonsense was. Maybe no one will remember we existed. Maybe all three.
MI: Ghost Protocol. Tom Cruise has a redeeming characteristic (perhaps he has more than one, I wouldn't know) and that is that in the face of all the ridicule for his batsh*t insanity, he can laugh at himself. He either doesn't take himself that seriously or he knows how to act like he doesn't take himself that seriously. This is an approach he brings to MI:Ghost Protocol. It's all fun and games, lip service is paid to plot and character, but it's really just a carnival ride that get's your blood pumping without any pretense toward real harm. A minor attempt at a redemption backstory and a touch of geopolitical positioning are happily, and correctly, unobtrusive. Stunts, pacing, and good natured camaraderie are the end itself. That's meant as praise, in case you missed it. Cruise is one of the best at this (ah-ha, another good quality), which can easily be demonstrated by comparison with recent efforts from Stallone or Schwarzenegger. Another compliment: this is a such a quality action film that it doesn't need the big screen. I watched the whole thing on my Kindle 8.9 and still enjoyed it.
Skyfall.Trying to remember the first James Bond film I ever saw...and I think it was You Only Live Twice, in the theatre when I was very young -- maybe 7 or 8. It may not have been first run at the time, but it was pretty close. I'm sure I saw a few of the Connerys when they hit one of the three networks as big events back in the late 60s, but the next one I remember seeing first run was Live and Let Die, Roger Moore's first effort. I would have been in high school. Hmm. I have no idea what that symbolizes other than that I am old. Skyfall is a high end Bond flick. The plot and dialogue are run-of-the-mill dumb, but not over-the-top shameful like the worst of them. The action is OK, although no match for the parkour sequence in Casino Royale. What this one has going for it is that it is absolutely beautiful. Every shot looks like a framed painting. And then there is the acting horsepower-- Dench, Bardem, Craig -- that make the inane story seem reasonable. Better Bond than most, but not particularly fun.
The Amazing Spiderman. Rebooted so soon? Is that too a sign of my age -- my relatively long take on the passage of time? The first Spiderman movie came out in 2002. For a 22-year-old that's half a life ago. For me it was just yesterday. Top notch action, as my fear of heights will testify. Absolute perfection in casting. Dead on in the Marvel-Comics-irony tone. There's no point in going into it too deeply except to say it is just what you expect, very skillfully done. It breaks no new ground in story, just minor variations on the Spidey mythology. This whole business of "rebooting" makes me wonder whether future generations are going to play with these stories and characters the way we play with Greek Mythology. Superman, Batman, Spiderman -- all have been altered and retold (rebooted) for differing effects just in our lifetimes. Star Trek has also. And I'm guessing Star Wars will. Hell, there have been like nine Hulk movies in the past decade. On the other hand, future generations might just wonder what all this childish nonsense was. Maybe no one will remember we existed. Maybe all three.
MI: Ghost Protocol. Tom Cruise has a redeeming characteristic (perhaps he has more than one, I wouldn't know) and that is that in the face of all the ridicule for his batsh*t insanity, he can laugh at himself. He either doesn't take himself that seriously or he knows how to act like he doesn't take himself that seriously. This is an approach he brings to MI:Ghost Protocol. It's all fun and games, lip service is paid to plot and character, but it's really just a carnival ride that get's your blood pumping without any pretense toward real harm. A minor attempt at a redemption backstory and a touch of geopolitical positioning are happily, and correctly, unobtrusive. Stunts, pacing, and good natured camaraderie are the end itself. That's meant as praise, in case you missed it. Cruise is one of the best at this (ah-ha, another good quality), which can easily be demonstrated by comparison with recent efforts from Stallone or Schwarzenegger. Another compliment: this is a such a quality action film that it doesn't need the big screen. I watched the whole thing on my Kindle 8.9 and still enjoyed it.
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