The Casual Blog

March 13, 2016

Spring, some explosive questions, including a nuclear one, and hope

More harbingers of spring arrived in Raleigh this week: forsythia, red buds, and more daffodils started blossoming. Those colorful little flowers will cheer you right up. Look closely and you can see more buds getting ready. The flowers do not last long, so to enjoy them you need to get outside quickly and focus intently. They remind us that life is such a precious, precarious thing.

Last week a white policeman in Raleigh shot and killed a young black man. I felt very sad, and also concerned about possible damage, physical and mental, to our community. I’d like to think the race relations and police-black community relations here are much better than, say, Ferguson Missouri. But it’s also fair to say that there could be big problems that people like me just don’t know about. One thing I’ve learned from Black Lives Matter, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Alice Goffman, and others is that while I almost never see it in its raw form, racism is real, and being black in this society is still a big health risk.

Soon after the shooting, hundreds of people marched in the street in protest. There were some traffic problems, but there was no reported harm to persons or property. Also no reports of police in military armor and tanks.

The first descriptions of the incident featured a fleeing suspect getting shot several times in the back. The official police description differed greatly, saying the man who was killed tried to shoot the officer and was wanted for drug crimes. We tend to see these things in the way that fits most comfortably with our preconceptions. Most white people I’ve discussed this with are inclined to accept the police account as true, despite eyewitnesses who say otherwise. But just as insidious racism can shape perceptions, it’s possible that eyewitnesses who fear and distrust police conformed their memories to fit their larger life narrative. I’m consciously uncertain. Either way, any time a person is killed in the course of our misbegotten war on drugs, it’s an avoidable tragedy. We need to keep working on ending prohibition.

Also last week, the U.S. killed 150 new recruits of al Shabaab in Somalia. Using bombs from drones and manned aircraft, we caught them standing in formation, perhaps graduating from terror school. According to Pentagon sources, they were going to be part of an imminent attack in Somalia on African soldiers and a few U.S. advisors. This is very similar to the bombing of possible terrorist recruits in Libya recently, so it seems to now be a thing – mass execution of young men who could potentially attack people we don’t know much about. Are we really sure this killing was justified? Is there no possible non-fatal way of addressing such threats? Could we be increasing the chaos and the risk of more mayhem through such attacks?

We don’t have a good track record in using our military in a carefully calibrated way, or in telling the truth about our attacks. See Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Iraq, Afghanistan, and Syria. Now Libya and Somalia. Tomorrow?

You may have missed the story, which I did not see in a major U.S. newspaper, of the trial of the Marshall Islands lawsuit in the International Court of Justice seeking to stop nuclear proliferation. The Marshall Islands were used by the U.S. as a test site for 67 nuclear explosions in the 40s-60s, which devastated the area and sickened and killed part of the population. The lawsuit is about the lack of compliance with the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty of 1968, in which some nuclear powers agreed to work in good faith towards disarmament. Apparently the suit is seeking a declaration that this hasn’t been done, and must be done.

For quite a while I’ve been thinking about whether there’s any way nuclear arsenals can be justified. They need a strong justification, because the risks are extremely high – accidental explosions, theft by crazed terrorists, escalating counterattacks, all out annihilation and the end of the world as we know it.

Here’s my current view: no political dispute could possibly justify killing thousands or millions of innocent people, which is the intended purpose of our most powerful nuclear weapons. No sane person would willingly subject the planet to nuclear winter, when much of the animal and plant life that initially survived a major nuclear war would die. Deterrence only works if an adversary is sane and rational (it doesn’t work on madmen), so deterrence is either unnecessary (as to the sane), or ineffective (as to the mad). So we cannot reasonably support the state’s creating and maintaining the risk of nuclear war. That leaves disarmament as the only credible, ethical strategy.

You may agree or disagree, but in either case, why aren’t we talking about this? Perhaps we assume that there’s nothing that can be done, or that it’s something we as individuals can’t effect. The Marshall Islands, a very small country, has challenged that stance. It’s election season, so let’s ask the candidates: what steps will you take to lower the risk of a nuclear holocaust and move towards a nuclear-free world?

On Friday, Bernie Sanders was speaking at noon at Memorial Auditorium in Raleigh, which is just a couple of blocks from where I work. It was a mild, sunny day, and so I thought it would be nice to see him, and perhaps ask him his view on the nuclear risk. By the time I got there, the line was very long. It took me ten minutes to walk to the end of it, by which time I realized there was no chance I was getting into the hall. But it was nice to see the crowd. They were very young! And, I’m guessing, hopeful. Anyhow, it made me hopeful.

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March 6, 2016

Welcoming daffodils, and re-starting golf lessons

This week I saw the first daffodils! I just love those little guys, especially the early ones –- the harbingers. On Sunday, I got up to Raulston Arboretum, where the daffs were exuberant, while most other occupants were still slumbering.

Through the long winter nights, I spent some time learning more about photography and adding to my tool kit. I’ve got some new tools to try out, including a nice flash (the Nikon SB-910) and a new macro lens (Tamron 180 MM) that should be great for closeups of insects. I’ve got new software (the CC versions of Lightroom and Photoshop) and have been experimenting with image healing, filters, and focus stacking. I’m ready for the great blossoming of spring.

Partly with spring in view, I began taking golf lessons a couple of weeks ago. A golf course is a type of garden, and we are privileged to have a good number of such extraordinary gardens in piedmont North Carolina. It seems a waste not to explore and enjoy them. And so I’ve vowed once again to try to get over the hump that separates me from playing golf at a better-than-mediocre level. I’m healthy, fit, and mentally able, so it’s not implausible. I just have to improve my technique – by a lot.

As I’ve noted before, when there’s something difficult to be learned, I’m a big believer in finding a gifted teacher and doing what she says. The teacher-student relationship can be rich human experience, but even when it isn’t, it’s generally the most efficient way to get a skill set. When you don’t know how to do something, it’s hard to teach yourself. This is especially true of complex physical endeavors.

I found my way to GolfTEC in north Raleigh, and Jessica Yadlocsky. Jessica is an ex NCAA all American and a former touring professional on the European tour, so she knows something about the game. She’s patient and encouraging, and has a good supply of tricks and strategies for addressing common problems.

At our first lesson, she said my set up was fantastic – tour quality. The problems began, however, when I put the club in motion. I have a bad habit of coming over the top, a not uncommon swing flaw. I found her diagnosis persuasive, and her suggested treatments made sense. She stipulated that I should practice at least two hours a week.

As the name suggests, GolfTEC has a technology angle, with lots of video equipment and measurement algorithms. Jessica set up a space just for me on their website with video of my lesson and video drills. As her student, I’m entitled to practice in their shop, which allows viewing every swing from two angles in slow motion. That feedback is revealing and helpful, although also a bit humbling. Already, thanks to Jessica and the video feedback, I’ve made progress addressing some of my swaying, overswinging, and going off plane. I’m optimistic.

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February 28, 2016

A sliver of hope

We had some weird weather in Raleigh this week, including hail, intense winds, and tornado warnings. I was in a meeting on the 18th floor of Red Hat Tower when everyone’s smart phone gave a warning signal, and we agreed it was time to get away from the windows. We took our computers to a big interior closet, where we continued the meeting. The building was still intact when we emerged.

Was it global warming? Hard to say. Good scientists are by training careful and conservative, and usually avoid ascribing root causes to particular weather events. But we know for sure the globe is warming, and the problem is big. Make that existential.

This is not an easy subject to think about. First, it’s depressing: the long-term risks for humans, other animals, and other living things are grave. Also, it’s uncomfortable: in trying to understand the problem, we ultimately end up seeing part of it in the mirror. All of us who like having electricity and traveling with internal combustion or jet engines are complicit. Also, there isn’t a clear path to a solution with our existing dysfunctional institutions.

But there’s still a sliver of hope, which I try to keep in mind. Helpful on this is Al Gore’s new TED talk. He doesn’t pull any punches in describing the destruction humans have wreaked on the planet with greenhouse gas emissions, but he also notes that we’ve made tremendous progress in wind and solar power, and progress is continuing. We may turn this around. Anyhow, it’s encouraging that he hasn’t thrown in the towel.

In reading a Times report this week about rising sea levels and increases in coastal flooding, I clicked on this link
which is a great little primer on global warming. It’s organized in a FAQ format, with short form answers to questions like how much is the planet heating up, how much trouble are we in, and is there anything we can do. It takes just a few minutes to get the basic facts. And armed with those, there are some things we can do, like elect leaders who have a clue.

On the climate hope front, I also need to give a shout out to Bill Gates, whom I have not always viewed as a force for freedom and progress. Gates may ultimately do far more good for the world as a promoter of emissions reduction technology than he has done as a software technologist. Anyhow, he’s got up on his bully pulpit, and he’s clearly working hard to encourage innovative energy ideas.

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February 21, 2016

Izzie the cat, questionable executions, and ballet love

Izzie the cat took her last trip to the vet this week. After almost 14 years together, we were sad. Our pets enrich our lives and make us better, more loving humans, even the ones with mercurial moods like Izzie. One minute, she would be seeking affection, angelically purring, and hissing like a little demon the next. Of course, we probably seemed strange to her.

From time to time I tried to get her to do some modeling for me and my camera, but she never cared much for that. I cannot say that any of my photos quite got her essence. White with black splotches and wings, she was a strange, pretty thing. It will be a slightly different world without her.

Deciding to put down a beloved pet is a hard decision. We considered for a while the evidence of Izzie’s diminishing capacities and increasing behavioral problems, and balanced as best we could the pros and the cons. In the end, we decided it was a good time for her death. But there remains a little nagging discomfort, along with sadness. To actively take on the choice of life or death is unsettling, which it should be.

This week U.S. fighter planes reportedly blew up several dozen people in a Libyan terrorist training camp. The target was a single Tunisian individual I’d never heard of, Noureddine Chouchane, based on his participation in terrorist attacks in Tunisia. I found this disturbing. Assuming Noureddine Chouchane was a thoroughly evil person who committed heinous acts (we couldn’t possibly get that wrong, could we?), should we be the judges and executioners for all terrorist acts, no matter how far removed from the U.S.? And even if we can justify that, how to justify taking the lives of dozens of other people who, so far as we know, committed no crimes? Do we really think it’s OK to kill all potential terrorists (who are, after all, also potential future non-terrorists)?

The Times had a story this week headlined (in the print edition) “Scars Left by American Bombs Resist Fading, 25 Years Later.” The particular scar in issue was damage from our bombing of civilians in 1991 at the beginning of the Persian Gulf War. We dropped an especially powerful bunker busting bomb on a shelter in a middle class Baghdad neighborhood and killed 408 people, most of whom were burned alive.

I can see how ordinary Iraqis could find this a moral outrage. Wouldn’t anyone? Yet I had never heard of the incident before, and after digging through 25 years of Times coverage on Iraq, couldn’t find an earlier story about it. It makes you wonder whether there are some other military atrocities that even faithful Times readers have not heard about.

The Atlantic has a good piece by Peter Beinart titled “Why Attacking ISIS Won’t Make America Safer.” Beinart notes that most Americans favor attacking ISIS, but argues that history shows that our military actions in the Middle East have resulted in inceased, not decreased, terrorist attacks. He calls it “the terror trap”: the more terrorists we kill, the more terrorists there are trying to kill us. Beinart doesn’t say this, but I will: the military solution will not work.

On a lighter note: Saturday night we went to the new Carolina Ballet show, Love Speaks. It was delightful! The theme of romantic love never gets old, and it’s right in the sweet spot of this wonderfully talented company. Lynn Taylor-Corbett’s new work has a narrator providing some poetry of Shakespeare, and a sort of Elizabethan look, but also kind of jazzy, with quickly developing flirtations, fascinations, and jealousies. I really liked it. I also particularly enjoyed Jan Burkhard and Richard Krusch in the balcony scene of Weiss’s Romeo and Juliet. It was profoundly romantic.

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February 14, 2016

Justice Scalia’s passing, Beethoven quartets, and Reich on the problem of extreme inequality

Raleigh at sunrise

Yesterday we were getting ready to head for Durham for dinner and a concert when I learned that Justice Scalia had died. The news was unexpected, and disorienting. I spent an intense year working a few steps away from him as one of his clerks, and felt close to him in a way. He was a good boss and mentor. Despite our very different political orientations, I admired his intelligence, energy, and humor. He demonstrated (including by hiring non-conservative clerks) that engaging with people who disagreed with one’s views was not a thing to avoid, but rather to embrace — stimulating and potentially creative. I disagreed with him vigorously on many things, but I liked him, and will miss him. This will take some time to process.

We met our friends John and Laurie for dinner at Dos Perros, a stylish Mexican restaurant, where we had good food and conversation. Then we went over to Duke’s Baldwin Auditorium to hear the Danish String Quartet, three young Danish guys, and one Norwegian one. They played an all Beethoven program, including two famous late quartets (Op. 131 and 135). This is challenging, craggy music, which the Scandinavians played with fearless commitment, embracing all the extremes of angularity and the subtlety. I thought the sound of violist Asbjorn Norgaard was particularly beautiful.

Zurich at sunset

There’s been a lot in the press recently about the extreme inequality in the U.S., and frequent references to such facts as the top .1 percent own almost as much wealth as the bottom 90 percent. This seems disturbing on its face, but I got a much better grasp of its implications from reading Saving Capitalism: For the Many, Not the Few, by Robert Reich. Reich is a former Secretary of Labor (Clinton administration) and a professor of public policy at Berkeley. In Saving Capitalism, he argues that the increasing concentration of economic and political power in the hands of very wealthy individuals and corporations threatens the fabric of our society. Dramatic inequalities of wealth and opportunity strike the majority as deeply unfair, undermining the trust that’s essential for social order. Without redress, the system could fail.

Reich contends that the arguments over whether the free market is preferable to the government are based on a false premise, inasmuch as the market is created by human beings and is subject to modification, for better or worse, by those same beings. At various times in American history, the rules have been dramatically changed (the Jacksonian era, the Progressives in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the New Deal), and they can be changed again. Only relatively recently have corporations been viewed as limited to serving shareholders, without regard to other stakeholders (employees, consumers, the public at large). The system can be fixed.

Reich is primarily focused on identifying the problems, rather than proposing solutions, but he does offer some preliminary thoughts on fixes. He notes that we need to get big money out of politics. Campaign finance reform is surely an important step. A more equitable tax system is another. We need to fix the rule system that applies to intellectual property, along with other legal reforms. Reich also favors a basic minimum income that guarantees everyone a minimally decent standard of living. He recognizes that automation and artificial intelligence are going to cost many more jobs, and we have to help those who get hurt. This is a timely book, well worth reading.

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February 9, 2016

Our Austrian adventure, including some good ski tips

Last week we had a skiing adventure in the Arlberg region of Austria. This was our first ski experience in the European Alps, after quite a few trips to the U.S. and Canadian West. We were curious to experience the birthplace of alpine skiing and taste a different culture. It exceeded our expectations. If you love skiing, you should go.

We arrived in Lech on Sunday afternoon to find it had snowed a lot the previous day, but the snow had just changed to rain. As we got our bearings and rented equipment, hiking the roads with slush on top of ice, we managed not to fall, but our feet got wetter and wetter. We made a note to bring some water proof boots for the next trip. But some good news: with the weak Euro, the prices for lift tickets, equipment rentals, and hotels was substantially cheaper than out West.

The next morning it cleared up, and we took our first runs at Lech (“leck,” more or less). It was beautiful. There are spots in the Rockies that rival it for magnificence, but here the craggy peaks were everywhere, towering above us and extending on and on. The slopes weren’t cut out of the mountain forest, as in the Rockies, but rather marked with posts on the mountain as nature made it. Snow coverage was good, though the snow was a bit heavy. We quickly adjusted and had many good runs on several different slopes.

Early on we figured out that the official ski map gives only the most general idea of the lifts and slopes. The total Arlberg ski area is huge, with 97 lifts, and we discovered that the large maps near certain lifts were essential for navigation. There seemed to be an assumption that everyone could read a map and exercise good sense; we saw no greeters or patrollers looking to help the confused. But the slopes and lifts had a kind of logic, and almost without fail we ended up where we were aiming.

The lifts were mostly modern, high-speed, highly automated, high-capacity marvels. They had little gates, like at horse races, that let skiers onto conveyor belts, which generally deposited the skiers in the ideal spot to get gently swept onto the seat. Many of the lifts had a plastic bubble that could be lowered to protect against wind and snow, and some of the seats were heated. There were some exceptions, ranging from old school T-bars to enclosed gondolas. But over all the system was amazing. And unlike in our experience in the U.S., the lifts almost never stopped. Most of our time there, we had no lift lines, and many times had 4 or 6 chair lifts to ourselves.

My rented skis were Atomic Vantage 90s, with wide rocker tips, some center camber, and 90 cms under foot. I found them not too stiff and not too loose — a Goldilocks all mountain ski. They performed well in both hard and soft snow, though I did not really figure out how to work them in very deep powder. I brought my own Dalbello boots, which performed well, though I got a blister on my left shin (driving those shins forward!) and a very bruised left ankle bone.

We stayed in Hotel Knappaboda, a 22-room family-run hotel that felt cozy and friendly, like the ideal bed-and-breakfast. The manager/owner, Gertrude Walch, also served as our concierge, recommending a new restaurant each night, securing reservations, and giving directions. It was not quite, as advertised, ski-in ski-out — the lift was about an 8-minute walk — but no matter. Our room had all the modern conveniences, including free and fast wi-fi, and was pretty and comfortable. It was also quiet. Especially after it started snowing again, at night we heard nothing from the street, nothing from neighbors, and practically nothing from the building itself. So peaceful!

Ready for breakfast at the Knappaboda

We hired a teacher-guide for Wednesday, when it started to snow again (and continued to snow until mid-Friday). Our ski guru was Walter Goggelmann. He turned out to be quite an accomplished person: a 20-year professional instructor who also worked in the off-season as a critic for a Berlin magazine, who spoke German, English, French, Spanish, Russian, Dutch, some Italian, and some Turkish. He also was an experienced scuba diver with good knowledge of Indonesia.

Walter watched us ski briefly, and identified three things we needed to work on. 1. Press into the snow with the downhill big toe. 2. Turn the uphill knee out. 3. Turn the head 45 degrees toward the next turn. The toe trick works to get your weight forward and the front edge better engaged. You should try it! We also learned that on the flats, you go faster if you press down with all ten toes. After a few hundred more turns, our skiing was both stronger and more relaxed.

Walter took us on der Weisse Ring, a signature tour route which started at Lech and ended a couple of hours later with a very long run at Zurs. Walter stopped at one point at did a bit of yodeling where there was a long echo. At the end of the day, Walter suggested we check with him the next day, since he suspected his afternoon client might cancel, and he’d enjoy skiing with us at no charge. It was a nice compliment — hey, we must be pretty good! — though in the end he couldn’t make it.

We also skied two days at St. Anton. It was gorgeous there on Tuesday, and though the snow was hard (not quite ice) in the morning, we liked the steep long runs. When we returned on Friday, it was snowing hard, and visibility was very limited — we really couldn’t see the snow underneath us, and could barely see the next piste markers. With no beautiful views to distract us, we concentrated on polishing our technique. At midday we went over to the Steuben area for lunch. The lifts there were old-school, slow fellows, but the visibility got better, and the snow was good.

I felt a certain reverence for Arlberg, like a golfer might for St. Andrews. The people looked a lot like us, but there was a different culture, which we enjoyed observing. There was a certain formality, and less extrovertedness — not much apparent interest in engaging strangers. There was a certain pushiness in the few lift lines we had. At the same time, people laughed a lot, and quickly responded when a skier fell or had problems. People seemed to particularly love little kids.

The restaurants we tried all had carved wooden ceilings, interesting fabrics, figurines, and a dramatic crucifix in one corner. We’d worried a bit about finding vegetarian food, but this generally worked out fine, though with more pasta and other carbs than I’d want to eat all the time. Our favorites were the Kroner and the Omesberg.

People speak German. I note this, because, before we went, several people said to me, well, everyone speaks English. Not exactly. Of those in the hospitality business, most speak some English, but there’s a wide range of skill levels. We could have gotten along with English only, but I was glad to have a little very basic German. We enjoyed being surrounded by the language, which made it very clear we were somewhere different.

One thing that was the same: pop music. At the apres skis bars, we heard almost all U.S. rock from various eras, and in the restaurants there was classic jazz. Since we seldom listen to this music at home, this was a change for us. We also noted that fewer Austrians are overweight. Unfortunately, more people smoke.

I had only one real fall all week. On Thursday near Warth, after perhaps two feet of new snow had fallen, and with visibility still quite limited, I felt moved to test the deep powder. A few turns later I went down, and my face ended up under the snow. Nothing was hurt, but getting out was a problem. At first I tried hiking, but this was not possible, since the snow was almost up to my waist. Eventually I used a ski to pound the snow into a little platform that would hold the skis while I got remounted.

Anyhow, we got a taste of the culture, and a taste of the skiing — enough to want to come back. Early Saturday morning, we sadly bid Gertrude auf wiedersehn (she waved as our taxi pulled off), and took the bus to the Zürich airport. From there we took the train to the main station in Zürich and explored the winding cobblestone streets of the old part of the city.

Zürich was quite charming. The high point for us was the Kunsthaus art museum, which has an excellent Impressionist and Post Impressionist collection, as well as some interesting old masters and current exhibits. We walked along Bahnhofstrasse and went into the Teuscher chocolate store, and after some looking, purchased their smallest box of truffles (two for each). We sat by the river and had cappacinos, and watched the gulls, ducks, and swans. Then we had a look at the famous Marc Chagall stained glass in Fraumunster church. After more strolling, we ate at a nice Mediterranean restaurant called Mere Catharine.

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January 25, 2016

Our ice storm, Eugene Onegin, getting ready to ski Lech, and learning some German

On Friday much of the East Coast was walloped by a big snowstorm, but here in Raleigh, we got mostly sleet and freezing rain. It left a treacherous coating of ice on the roads. Sally ventured out once in the Subaru for groceries, but otherwise we hunkered down till Sunday, when it warmed up and most of the ice melted.

That afternoon we went to the N.C. Opera’s concert production of Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin. It was really good! I was particularly struck by Joyce El-Khoury as Tatiana, a brilliant young singer, with amazing dynamic range, subtlety, and feeling. Eric Barry’s Linsky was also very fine. Indeed, all the principals were excellent, and the chorus and orchestra sounded good, too. Hats off to maestro Timothy Myers! I’m happy to say that Red Hat is sponsoring a broadcast/webcast of this performance on WCPE on May 5.

Next Saturday we’re headed to Lech am Arlberg, Austria for a week. Skiing the beautiful and challenging Alps, in the birthplace of the exhilarating sport of alpine skiing, has been a long time dream, and we’re finally going to do it. I settled on Lech based on recommendations of friends and data indicating that it is one of the snowiest places in Europe. The snow reports haven’t been looking great, but in the last few days coverage seems to be improving. As of today, they claim 55 inches, with 93 of 97 lifts open, and 193 miles of pistes. And close by is St. Anton, with lots more. With mother nature, you never know, but I’m optimistic.

In happy anticipation, I’ve been learning some German with the Rosetta Stone program. I’ve gotten my basic greetings, numbers, colors, days of the week, basic types of housing, furnishings, appliances, food and drink, transportation methods, payment methods (e.g. Kreditkarte!), body states (e.g. ich habe Hunger!), and a other very practical words and phrases.

It helps that there are a lot of cognate cousins with English, and the vocal sounds correspond closely. But there are also a lot of little, intense puzzles. Whoever thought of the devilish declension system? And irregular pluralization? Etc. But it is quietly absorbing, much like learning music. As with music, you work as your own programmer, becoming something a little different, expanding.

But I’m under no illusion that I’ll be a fluent German conversationalist by next week, or even next year. For possible language emergencies in Austria, I downloaded Google Translate onto my smartphone, and practiced with it a bit. It receives spoken messages in English and broadcasts them back in German (or other languages), and vice versa. In my tests, it was quite accurate. Amazing!

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January 17, 2016

Spinning, credit card fraud problems, and the tax system for the super rich

Tiller7Bug 1-3

On Saturday morning I had a particularly good spinning outing led by Heather at Flywheel. The previous week was a disappointing one, when I tried hard to reach 300 but finished with a total score of 286. It made me wonder if I’d finally started that long slide down to the bottom. But this week I finished first in the class with 341! My average heart rate for the 45 minutes was 157 — a record. There was one guy who stayed close on my tail the whole way, and was just two points behind when the music stopped. Whew!

That afternoon, I had my monthly deep tissue massage session with Ken Katchuk (K2). Ken is really generous with his skills and time, and we set a new personal best: two hours and twenty minutes on the table. It was challenging at times, but we had a good talk about sports, movies, politics, and dogs, and I felt great afterwards.

One of the greatest of modern conveniences has got to be the credit card, which has greatly shrunk the time and distance between a wish and its fulfillment. How amazing to have a need or want, have an online merchant, have a credit card, and very quickly have that object of desire. At the end of this week, though, I had my Visa card declined, first at Happy and Hale (for a lovely salad), then at Hayes Barton Pharmacy, then at Fandango (movie tickets).

I called Capital One, and a cheery fellow in the fraud department read out several charges from Ft. Worth, Texas that were definitely not mine. He said someone had made a counterfeit version of my card. Anyhow, that account is now history. I’m happy Capital One detected the fraud promptly, and happy I won’t be responsible for the fraudulent charges. Still, it’s a bit of a pain, since I’ve got to get a new card and remember to pass then new number to various providers of goods and services.

I don’t suppose we’ll ever prevent all fraud, and we may even be headed in the opposite direction. There’s little doubt that our electronic transaction system is a point of vulnerability. There are highly skilled, ethically challenged people in front of computer screens all around the globe searching for ways to take our money. Thus I’ve gradually converted to non-obvious passwords. You do what you can.

Tiller7Bug 1-2 Speaking of systems and fraud, the Times had a significant piece recently about the corruption just below the surface of the US tax system. Here’s a bit from the beginning:

With inequality at its highest levels in nearly a century and public debate rising over whether the government should respond to it through higher taxes on the wealthy, the very richest Americans have financed a sophisticated and astonishingly effective apparatus for shielding their fortunes. Some call it the “income defense industry,” consisting of a high-priced phalanx of lawyers, estate planners, lobbyists and anti-tax activists who exploit and defend a dizzying array of tax maneuvers, virtually none of them available to taxpayers of more modest means.

…

Operating largely out of public view — in tax court, through arcane legislative provisions and in private negotiations with the Internal Revenue Service — the wealthy have used their influence to steadily whittle away at the government’s ability to tax them. The effect has been to create a kind of private tax system, catering to only several thousand Americans.”

The article gives various examples, and explains that the very wealthiest and their tax experts are continually devising sophisticated new schemes. These same people are also the biggest contributors to political campaigns. Could these facts not be related? Once you begin to get you head around this, you might (unless you’re in the one-thousandth percentile) start to get mad. It’s not fair.

So why is this not a huge political issue? I see two main reasons. 1. The existing candidates for the most part are complicit in the status quo. 2. It’s too complicated. That’s part of the point: the tax dodges are designed by experts to defy understanding. Just comprehending a single tax scheme (there are many such) is beyond the mental capacity of most of us, including the IRS, and we’ve got other demands on our time and brain power.

I should note that there’s one major exception among the presidential candidates, who is very focused on the unfairness of favoring the super rich in the tax system: Bernie Sanders. He’s put the issue of addressing inequality and eliminating their special tax breaks front and center. And against all odds, he’s still in the hunt for the democratic nomination. I have trouble picturing him in the oval office, but I’m very glad he’s getting fundamental issues like this one onto the discussion agenda.

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January 10, 2016

My recent reading and listening

One thing that I hate about vacations is that I always come back heavier than I went out. It’s strange, but predictable, that a week of traveling makes me about five pounds heavier. There’s nothing particularly terrible about gaining five, but if you do it enough times, it adds up. I really prefer not to carry around excess pounds, which means, post vacation, I’ve got some reducing to do.

That requires some time exercising, which, fortunately, I enjoy, in a way. It’s a lot more enjoyable since I started combining working out with listening to podcasts and audio books. This week at the gym I’ve been listening to the new Serial, about Sergeant Bowe Bergdahl, which examines the mystery of what he was really up to when he was kidnapped by the Taliban. It’s good. I also discovered WTF, an interview podcast by Marc Maron, and listened to an interview with Eric Bogosian, the actor, playwright, and author. He was a student at Oberlin when I was there. Among other impressive talents, he has an amazing voice.

Speaking of talented people I knew slightly, I saw articles in both the NYT and WSJ this week about the artist Robert Irwin. I met Irwin when I was a fact checker at the New Yorker and checked a piece about him by Lawrence (Ren) Weschler that became a book, Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees, which is still in print.

I really liked Irwin, and was affected by his vision. His work is difficult to describe, but generally involves transforming spaces so that they reveal different things. He has spent most of a restless career, based in Los Angeles and then San Diego, creating subtle, at times vanishingly evanescent, environments with plain materials — fabric scrim, glass, lights, plants and trees — “to make you a little more aware than you were the day before,” as he puts it, “of how beautiful the world is.” He’s now 87, and has various interesting works in progress. Anyhow, I recommend Ren’s book, and the articles, and I’m planning to try to get io his new show at the Hirshhorn.

One thing I like about vacations is some time to really read. Last week I finished a couple of significant books and made substantial progress in others.

I finished Don’t Panic: ISIS, Terror and Today’s Middle East, by Gwynne Dyer. It helped me get a better grip on the geopolitics that led to ISIS, and that sustain the violence going on right now. The atrocities of ISIS are horrifying, but per Dyer we really have to quit freaking out, because it doesn’t help, and they are not an existential threat to us.

Which is not to say they aren’t wreaking havoc on the Middle East. The plight of millions of Syrian and other refugees is horrendous, and winter is just well started. I did a bit of research of what we as individuals might do to help, and ended up making a contribution to the International Rescue Committee. The Times endorsed it and some other charitable organizations. Please consider whether you might be able to help.

I also finished Black Earth, the Holocaust as History and Warning, by Timothy Snyder. The subject of Hitler’s genocide is, of course, tough to think about, but it turns out that there are very important aspects of it that our history professors and museums mostly missed until – Snyder. For example, most of the Jews killed in the Holocaust were victims of mass shootings, rather than gassing, and the likelihood of dying varied according to the degree to which the existing state apparatus was destroyed, as it was in Poland and the Baltic states. As depressing as it is that humans can be as depraved as the Nazis, it is also cheering that we can understand the past in new ways, and maybe change ourselves.

I made substantial progress on re-reading Your Atomic Self: The Invisible Elements that Connect You to Everything Else in the Universe, by Curt Stager. Stager does a good job showing how atoms relate to life as we know it, which is both well known and very difficult to grasp. He breaks the world down to its essentials, starting with hydrogen, oxygen, carbon, and nitrogen, and shows how basic recycled elements form our bodies. I’ve finally got firmly in mind how a lot of the atoms we are made of are the products of long-dead stars. Joni Mitchell was right that we are stardust. And, just as we are continually transforming our surrounding environment, it is transforming us.

A new colleague at work, Jeff K, recommended I read Hackers, by Steven Levy. It’s a history of the computer programming pioneers of the sixties and seventies at MIT, Silicon Valley, and elsewhere. I quickly got absorbed, and have made it about halfway through so far. These people were obsessed, and in some cases brilliant, as they discovered/created the new digital world that we live in today. A lot of them were awkward and odd, and did not have normal social lives (e.g. girlfriends). I thought that seemed sad, but gradually realized how full they were of the joy of discovery. A lot of these pathfinders were making free and open source software well before anyone labelled it as such.

Finally, I made substantial progress on The Goldfinch, by Donna Tartt. I was interested in the book initially because I love Dutch painting of the 17th Century, and I’ve seen Fabritius’s famous, gorgeous Goldfinch. I’m finding Tart’s book extraordinary, in the way Catcher in the Rye is extraordinary, with perceptions that have the freshness of youth and the risk of fatal error of youth. She’s a great novelist in the old-fashioned way, with a deft grasp of quick emotions and richness of character and incident.

While I’m thinking of brilliant artists, I’ll mention one more recent discovery: the violinist Sarah Chang. As I now know, she was a child prodigy and is now a seasoned concert artist, but I discovered her a few weeks back by chance when I felt like listening to the Brahms violin concerto, and picked her recording from those available for streaming on Rhapsody. (The same recording is available on YouTube) She’s amazing! Volcanic intensity, and yet sensitive to the finest nuance. She’s got a big, gleaming, shimmering sound. Here she is in a wonderful live performance of the Carmen Fantasy.

Saturday I drove out to Cary for my haircut with Ann S, and got caught up on her holiday doings. Afterwards I drove east to Chatham County and visited Jordan Lake. It was gray and raw, with rain threatening, and the water level was high. There were hundreds of gulls at Ebenezer Point, mostly ring-bills and a few herrings.

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January 5, 2016

The diving Tillers do Belize

We got home at about 4:00 a.m. Sunday from our trip to Belize. There were various minor setbacks and challenges, like weather, malfunctioning gear, and cancelled flights, but all in all it was a good trip.

One of the great satisfactions for me was getting the last member of our little family certified as a PADI open water diver. Jocelyn did the course in 2014, and Gabe decided to buckle down late in 2015, while juggling his grad school course work. He completed everything but the open water dive requirements with two days before the trip to spare.

Jocelyn flew in from NYC on Christmas Eve, full of energy and humor. As will happen this time of year, I felt the spell of Christmases past, and needed to read through some Christmas carols at the piano (Joy to the World! We Three Kings, What Child Is This, O Come, All Ye Faithful, Hark the Herald Angels, etc.). We listened to the Nutcracker during our present exchange.

But for our family reunion dinner, we listened to the Beatles, whose work had just become available on Spotify, Rhapsody, and other streaming services that day. Starting with I Want to Hold Your Hand, we worked through a good part of the canon. That music is densely evocative of adolescence for me, but it still has a cheery, lively power, too, and a lot of variety. We talked a lot about the Fab Four, and it turned out that Gabe and Jocelyn knew every song and a lot of the backstories.

We left for the airport at 3:30 a.m. Our first flight took us to Houston, where we waited a while and then got a plane for Belize City, where we eventually got into a single engine plane for a 15-minute flight to Ambergris Caye. I got to sit next to the pilot and monitor the instruments, which was fun. We landed at sunset, then took a short cab ride to a nearby dock, where we and our stuff got loaded onto a speedy water taxi for a twenty-minute trip north.

We stayed at Costa Blu Resort, which, we came to learn, had just opened for the first time two weeks earlier. We thought it was pretty, comfortable, and well situated for diving, with a dive center on the property, along with palm trees and swimming pools.

The next day the wind was blowing hard – perhaps 25 miles per hour – and so morning diving was cancelled. We came to learn that the wind had been going like that for the previous two weeks or so, and even old-timers couldn’t recall so long a stretch of hard wind at this time of year. The skies were mostly sunny. We got out in the afternoon for a shallow (12 foot) dive in the afternoon, and Gabe completed the first of his two open water certification dives. The weather the next day was the same, which meant the small boats at our dive operation could not get out beyond the reef, so we did another shallow dive nearby, and Gabe completed his course. We were so proud!

On Tuesday, we took a longer boat ride out to Turneff Atoll, and did three separate dives. The visibility was about 50 feet, and the water was a pleasant 82 degrees F. We saw the locally common tropicals, such as durgons, surgeonfish, parrotfish, blue wrasse, butterflyfish, yellowtail snappers, and three kinds of angelfish. There were lobsters, and a yellow ray. Our guide, Bernie, speared five or six lionfish, which are beautiful but very destructive for the ecosystem. The dive was fun, though I was a little disappointed not to see sharks or other larger creatures.

We’d found the restaurant at Costa Blu adequate. The food was good, and the service was friendly, but really really slow. We deduced that the staff was mostly very green, and just learning. Anyhow, we walked along the beach to Temple Run resort for dinner on Tuesday. The walk was a little tricky in the dark, and we had to make our way through thick sargassum and other flotsam on the beach, but the dinner was good.

It was still blowing hard on Wednesday, so we decided not to dive, and instead to explore the little town of San Pedro. This required a 20- minute water taxi trip, on a little boat that was speedy, and crowded. It started to rain hard for the first time that week during the short trip, and it looked like we might have a damp and bedraggled afternoon. But it stopped raining and the sun came out just as we pulled up to the dock. San Pedro proper is colorful though bit down at the heels, with rust and peeling paint, but its narrow streets are full of local people strolling and buzzing around in golf carts. We ate at Casa Picasso, a highly rated spot run by friendly expats from Connecticut. We loved their Carrot Chic cocktail, and my eggplant napolean entree was excellent.

On Thursday, we tried to take a larger boat to the Blue Hole, the famous deep circular structure about three hours’ ride from San Pedro, and planned to do two other dives. The trip started badly, very early in the a.m., when we discovered that our equipment had not all been delivered to the boat, and we had to do last-minute rentals. Then, about 45 minutes into the trip, the boat developed engine trouble. We limped into a local village, and waited for a mechanic. The ultimate diagnosis was a blown gasket, which meant a blown trip.

But we did get in an afternoon shallow dive near Costa Blu at Mexican Reef with just us Tillers and our guide, Giovanni. We saw a pair of large sting rays that seemed to be courting, and a friendly green turtle that swam close enough to be petted. There was a large green moray eel, spade fish, and several nurse sharks, as well as many pretty small tropicals. It was especially sweet to be with my loved ones, and see our new divers keeping a good eye on their gauges.

Throughout the week, I’d been trying to get some pictures with my Canon G16 camera with an Ikelite housing. The equipment would work fine when I tested it out of the water, but under water there was one problem after another. On the Thursday dive, it worked fine when I took a few test shots, and then quit responding to any directions. I couldn’t even turn it off! It was disappointing to miss a lot of good shots. I couldn’t figure out why this equipment was so glitchy, but it was, and I made up my mind to get rid of it. I haven’t been able to find the camera (mislaid, or stolen from my bag?) so the problem may have resolved itself.

On Friday, the wind finally let up, and we were able to do three tanks outside the reef near Costa Blu in the morning. We got down to about 100 feet and admired the varied coral and tropicals, but didn’t see many larger creatures. I feel like we saw more marine life when we were last there in (I think) 2009. But we all know or should know that the long-term prospects for coral reefs all over the world are not good. For now, there’s still a lot of beauty to be savored.

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