Monday, September 29, 2014

Sick Day

I had to call in sick this morning. My third sick day this year. The first two were in late February.

Before this year, however, I've rarely called in sick. Despite harsh New England weather, despite miles of air travel (during my travel years), despite a daughter in school (all those kids and their sniffles), for the past ten years my work attendance was free of sick days. I suppose those were my indestructible years.

To coax myself into feeling better, I guzzle orange juice, suck on cough drops, and take DayQuil. Hopefully I'll be better tomorrow: maybe it'll be the start of another sick-free decade.

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Finding Oceanic

Sometimes I have to pinch myself: technology can be amazing.

A few months ago, I ate lunch with some co-workers at Royal India Bistro, a fine Indian restaurant in Lexington, MA. I hardly know the names of the Indian food I eat, so that afternoon I visited the restaurant's website. It began to play some streaming music, and while this normally annoys me, the initial notes were light enough that it drew me in. I liked the beat, and the motif, so I kept the music on, as I searched through the menu.

The music's change in tempo took over my attention. Head bobbing, I gave into it, letting the song wash over me. I was dazzled by its first impression! Instead of the food, I scoured the website for the name of this song. Unable to find it, I just played the song again.

A few days went by. I continued to enjoy the song by playing it off the website, but now I was at a loss: how could I find out the name of this song? I remembered reading an article about music detection software, and decided to try it out. I downloaded Shazam onto my iPod. I played the song through my speakers, and let Shazam listen.

To my delight, Shazam identified the music! The song is "Oceanic, Part 2", from the 2007 album "Breathing Under Water", by Karsh Kale and Anoushka Shankar, featuring sitar by Ravi Shankar.

I found the song on YouTube. Check out the song, and check out Shazam. Amazing technology, indeed.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Everything I Want?!

An old friend sent me a birthday greeting this year on Facebook. He said "Make sure you work on your bucket list." Yes, maybe I should.

Tonight, I rummaged around some old files and found a list I made in 1991 titled "Everything I Want?!" It's not a proper bucket list, because I wrote it when I was 23, in the full flush of adulthood. I dug it out to see if anything got accomplished from that list. Instead, I got a few laughs. Two items: 1) have a washboard stomach, and 2) spend time in an Oregon dude ranch. Who was I back then?

Without further ado, here are a few of my bucket list items:

1. Watch a baseball game at Yankee Stadium.

I have watched many games at Fenway Park in my baseball days. The Yankees, their great rival, should have been the team of my youth. I should at least visit their new stadium (since I never saw them in their old one)!

2. Visit Tokyo with my wife.

This trip would be out of both our comfort zones, so it's something we have to do together. Besides, we both said we would!

3. Visit the Grand Canyon.

One of the great sights that I missed seeing with my family. I'll have to make up for it!

4. Finish Super Meat Boy (a video game).

I always play this game on vacation, and I love its humor and speed. Please, let me beat the final boss!

5. Read "Infinite Jest" (David Foster Wallace).

I'm proud to have have read some big literature: "Gravity's Rainbow" (Thomas Pynchon), "Ulysses" (James Joyce). Someone suggested "Infinite Jest", and when I saw that it was over a thousand pages, I said sign me up.

Will I be able to look back on this list 23 years from now, and say that some of those items got crossed off? I guess we should stay tuned.

Monday, June 30, 2014

Mowing and Weeding

For the past few years, I've been mowing and pulling the weeds in my lawn and shrubbery more regularly.

Before this, our lawn and small garden would become overrun with weeds by mid-June. I'd spend a hot weekend pulling the weeds, filling up waste bags with these invasive plants. These would always be exasperating affairs, with me cursing at the gardening gods.

Of late, I've learned to treat some areas with basic weedkiller sprays, but the best antidote to keeping back the weeds is regularly pulling them. So every weekend, usually early in the morning, I'm outside pulling weeds, for about 30 to 45 minutes. I don't pull weeds everywhere: I pick my spots. One day I'll focus on the area next to the street, and another day I'll pull the weeds in our shrubbery bed.

I do make sure to pull as much as I can (I fill a waste bag about half-way before I call it a day). I use a heavy duty set of gloves, and sometimes I'll use a small trowel. When I'm pulling these weeds, I notice how they can take root in the trickiest of places. I start to think that pulling weeds is my own stand against nature's inevitability.

I have also been mowing the lawn more frequently too. I remember that I used to skip weeks of mowing, to the point where the grass came as high as half-way up my knee. Nowadays, I mow every week. The result: a neater appearance. Combined with the weed pulling, the lawn area is presentable, and it's very satisfying.


Friday, May 30, 2014

Anticipating "The Giver"

As the Summer movie season gets underway, the one movie I'm anticipating the most is "The Giver".

"The Giver" is a book by Lois Lowry. My daughter had to read it for school. In an attempt to keep up with her studies, and to show some solidarity, I read her copy. I finished it over a weekend, and I was greatly affected by it.

The book is about a young boy who lives in a utopia. He and his family have everything "decided" for them, and in return they live in peace and harmony. Despite the peaceful grown up life he knows he's in for, he begins to yearn for "something more." When his community announces that he will have a special job working with an elder statesman who has memories of how things used to be, he is introduced to some harsh truths about utopia.

Since this book is a young adult novel, I didn't expect to be swept up in the emotion of "The Giver", but I was. Every revelation the protagonist experienced wrenched my gut. By the time he realizes how to act on his feelings, I was both cheering and fearful. The book had me in tears, so potent were its images and truths. ("I thought there was only us." "There's much more.")

It's a book that I'm grateful to have read, and one that I wish I would have experienced when I was 13. ("The Giver" was written in 1993). I don't know if the movie will have the same impact, but I'm hoping it popularizes this wonderful book.

"The Giver", directed by Phillip Noyce and starring Jeff Bridges opens August 15, 2014.

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Praising the Turkey Terrific

My favorite sandwich of the past many years is the Turkey Terrific from Neillio's in Lexington, MA.

To describe it simply, the Turkey Terrific is a Thanksgiving dinner made into a sandwich. It's turkey, stuffing, cranberry and mayonnaise, all lovingly arranged on French bread. The turkey isn't deli turkey, but rather sliced turkey that's precisely measured. At the deli, these pre-measured slices are wrapped in thin wax paper, and arranged in a small mound on their counter.

The deli servers may not have lee-way with the turkey, but they seem to have discretion with the application and proportions of the other three ingredients. Some seem to throw in a little more cranberry, some seem to throw in little more mayo. I've grown to enjoy the varieties. The deli servers will make it any way you want, as I have seen people request this sandwich with cheese, or without cranberry, but I've always ordered it straight. One time I tried it with wheat bread, but it wasn't the same. The heft of the French bread really ties the sandwich together.

The taste of the turkey, mixing with the cranberry, mixing with the stuffing is a heaven on earth sensation.  I'm always filled with gratitude and satisfaction eating this sandwich. By the end of the sandwich, I'm actually somewhat tired, just like I had eaten a real Thanksgiving meal. It's a belt loosening sandwich, except I've made it a rule to only eat it on the weekends, and I rarely wear a belt on the weekends.

It's a little over four miles from my house to Neillio's, and the whole way I'm smiling. The servers will mark "TT" on the paper in which they wrap this glorious sandwich. Some will only use three lines, concatenating the two Ts into a symbol that looks like pi. My wife's sandwich (she'll vary her order more than I will) is nestled next to mine in the brown take-out paper bag, along with a cookie for our daughter. I count my blessings eating this sandwich, and a sandwich that can elicit this feeling deserves all the praise it can get.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Evaporate Faster

I do the dishes here at home. My wife cooks, and since I do not cook, I contribute by doing the dishes when I can. For the most part this involves putting dishes into the dishwasher, but there is always one or two items that I wash by hand in the sink. Some of these non-dishwasher safe items are plastic containers.

One of my hangups with plastic containers is with their curved edges designed to hold a tight seal for a cover. Drying these becomes a very detailed chore for me. I like to put dishes away completely dry, and to get at all the moisture on a plastic container involves stuffing the folded edge of a towel into the crevices of the plastic containers. Because of the required attention to detail, I tend not to take this step, opting instead to let the containers dry on the counter. But I'm mindful of the moisture, so I take these containers and whip then in the air, forcing the water off the surfaces. I am rewarded with a splatter on the sink from this action, and I leave the chore thinking that this causes the remaining water to evaporate faster.

As I was composing this post in my head, I realized that I couldn't definitively declare that my actions make the plastic containers dry faster. Does a puddle of water evaporate faster than that same volume of water dispersed over discrete droplets? In other words: does a teaspoon of water dry slower than say that same teaspoon divided into two?

This ends up being a fruitless experiment, because my action removes excess water. The amount of water remaining should evaporate faster than the original, larger amount.

Or maybe I shouldn't think about this too much.