May 29, 2009

on happiness

file under: my life

i recently read an article in The Atlantic Monthly called What Makes Us Happy. it's a fascinating overview of the Harvard Grant Study, a 72-year-long analysis of 268 men, one of the most comprehensive longitudinal examinations of people and their long-term happiness ever performed. the study is very similar in spirit to Michael Apted's brilliant Seven Up! series, which examined the lives of a group of British schoolchildren over the course of 40 years, and provides some amazing insights into the human condition.

so what's the punch line? what makes us happy? is there a set of basic factors common to people who are deemed, or deem themselves, happy?

in short, it seems the simple answer is "No." there's no one set of things that guarantees happiness.

happiness is a complex, slippery thing, a state of being experienced subjectively, without clear causation. over the course of the lives of the men in the study, many experienced both happiness and sadness; happiness is not static or stable or concrete. many who appeared incredibly stable and well-balanced as young men went through depression and turmoil. on the other hand, many from troubled upbringings found success and happiness despite a bad start. some that seemed depressed and unhappy by any objective standard actually characterized themselves as happy.

for me, there were a few particularly insightful things in the article, not necessarily on the subject of happiness, but on human psychology as a whole.

Adaptations
there is a school of psychological thought that all of our perceptions of reality are distortions (although not necessarily in a negative sense). we see the world through a set of adaptations (or defenses) that evolve over the course of our lives. they are our unconscious thoughts and behaviors that help us deal with pain, conflict and uncertainty. based on the work of Anna Freud, there are four types of adaptations:

• Psychotic: These are the isolating adaptations (like paranoia, schizophrenia, or megalomania) that make reality tolerable to the person experiencing it, but that seem crazy from an external perspective
• Immature: A level above the psychotic, these reactions (e.g., passive aggression, hypochondria, projection, and fantasy) are better, but still impede intimacy
• Neurotic: These are the reactions of "normal" people, and include things like intellectualization (reduction of painful things into objects of formal thought), dissocation (removing oneself from one's feelings), and repression (blocking or ignoring input from one's senses)
• Mature: The healthiest adaptations of all include things like humor, altruism, anticipation (looking forward to plan for future discomfort), suppression (postponing response until the time is right), or sublimation (finding outlets for feelings, like focus on work or sport).

our usage of these adaptations may change over time as we experience our lives. if i look at my own life honestly, i'd have to say most of my adaptions fall into the neurotic category, with occasionally mature responses. it's difficult to really be objective about it, of course, and that's one of the points of the article. it's tough for people to see their own adaptations, the lenses through which they bend the light of the world and their experiences. rather than finding fault and illness with unhealthy adaptations, however, the champion of the study (George Vaillant) casts our use of them simply as an unwise deployment, and something we can change.

in other words, even someone whom a psychiatrist would characterize as depressed can grow, modify their adaptations, and thrive. this may be a slightly simplistic view when examined in the light of neuropsychology and the physiological basis for depression and other mental illnesses. i don't think they are necessarily in conflict, but it seems to me the biological dimension of behavior shouldn't be entirely discounted.

Factors for healthy aging
Vaillant did identify what he considered to be seven factors associated with healthy aging, based on the Grant Study. there is no clear and definitive causation (i.e., there are plenty of exceptions to the rules), but these things seemed important in many cases.

1. Employing mature adaptations
2. Education
3. Stable marriage
4. Not smoking
5. Not abusing alcohol
6. Some exercise
7. Healthy weight

of the men in the study, 50 percent who were deemed "healthy happy" at age 80 possessed at least five of these factors. none of the men with three or fewer of these factors were happy at age 80. depression was a major factor as well; of the men who suffered from depression by age 50, 70 percent were dead or ill by age 63. although not stated, this is probably because depression erodes one's ability to maintain a number of the factors above (e.g., approach to adaptations, stable marriage, smoking, alcohol abuse).

what are some factors that don't really seem to matter???

• Cholesterol levels at age 50
• Social ease (which helps when you're younger, but doesn't matter as much as you age)
• Childhood temperament (i.e., shy, anxious kids can still grow up to be healthy and happy)

it's all in how you look at things (squeeze those lemons!)
there's a great little snippet embedded in the article that encapsulates a lot of the theory:

A father, on Christmas Eve, puts into one son’s stocking a fine gold watch, and into another son’s, a pile of horse manure. The next morning, the first boy comes to his father and says glumly, "Dad, I just don’t know what I’ll do with this watch. It’s so fragile. It could break." The other boy runs to him and says, "Daddy! Daddy! Santa left me a pony, if only I can just find it!"

when i read this, it made me realize just how much of my life i have spent being negative, or at least, spent too much time looking at both sides of things, seeing both good and bad. to think that someone could find joy in a pile of manure, that there is a way to turn anything on its head if only you try — this is amazing to me, and makes me think just how much happier i would probably be if only i looked at things differently. the problem is we are continually cloaked in a veil that clouds our awareness, a veil of mindlessness and forgetfulness. we forget to take things in, we forget that there is a different way to look at the world and our experiences; instead we mindlessly follow the path of least resistance, past patterns, unwise adaptations.

one man in the study, a successful writer and gay rights activist, led a life that was paradoxical. he clearly suffered from depression, went through two marriages, then came out of the closet to his wife and children after many years. he drank heavily. at the same time, he was successful, achieving many things. he died at age 64 after falling down a flight of stairs, with high blood alcohol levels in his autopsy results. near the end of the study, Vaillant sent him a manuscript-in-progress about the study and asked for his input. he wrote:

The methodology you are using is highly sophisticated. But the end judgments, the final assessments, seem simplistic. I mean, I can imagine some poor bastard who’s fulfilled all your criteria for successful adaptation to life … upon retirement to some aged enclave near Tampa just staring out over the ocean waiting for the next attack of chest pain, and wondering what he’s missed all his life. What’s the difference between a guy who at his final conscious moments before death has a nostalgic grin on his face as if to say, ‘Boy, I sure squeezed that lemon’ and the other man who fights for every last breath in an effort to turn back time to some nagging unfinished business?

another perspective on happiness and perception. squeeze the lemon. live every moment. it may be bitter, it may suck, it may not in fact always make you happy, but you will have truly lived. how many of us can say we have truly lived, and how many have followed easy paths that may have been less fulfilling, because they weren't willing to risk? is the latter such a bad thing, after all? who is to say which is true happiness, and which isn't?

the road to happiness?
it seems to me what this whole study says is that each of us has the power to understand and shape our view of the world, craft our own version of happiness, whatever that is. think about how you respond to the stress and anxiety and pain in your life, and try to do it in a healthy way. don't smoke or drink too much. eat healthy and exercise a little. if you think you're getting depressed, get help for it.

at the end of the day, happiness is relative. there is no clear path to it, no "Seven easy steps to Nirvana." in some cases, the path to it may be through distinct unhappiness. one simply can't know. should i squeeze the lemon or stick with rice porridge? or can i do both, depending on the day and how i feel?

for me, it is a profoundly sad image to think of lying on my death bed, struggling for my last breath, wondering if i had lived my life. there's only one chance. no do-overs. do i want to die happy? yes. do i want to die feeling regret? no. and yet, would i rather die with the taste of sour lemon, having no regrets? would you?

Posted by docrpm on 05.29.09 at 10:06 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

May 10, 2009

A Day for Mom

file under: my life

today is a day to celebrate our Mom's, for all that they have done, all that they have given us, for the love they have brought to our worlds and spirits. for the greatest gift anyone could ever give another: life.

my Mom is an amazing woman who struggled and sacrificed to help me become the person that i am today. there was no instruction manual and she did it alone, striving to give me the things she never had growing up. she loves me with all her heart, and for many years during my rebellious and independent youth, i could not see that love. it was clouded as i tried to individuate, to become myself apart from parental guidance, to find my way in the world. it caused us to separate for awhile, to drift apart, sad at the disconnection that had come between us, but not knowing how to repair it. we each played our part in the way our relationship unfolded, doing our best, but still missing our connection somehow.

the gap that was created existed for many years, despite our desire to repair. there were still resonances of past arguments and disagreements and misunderstanding. it was hard to find the words to repair the past hurt, and so we drifted into that place that i suspect many parents and children do: comfortable friendship, conversations about the weather and what's happening in the family, pleasantries that stay away from those past memories and wounds.

on our last visit, my mom and i found a way to open those past doors without fear or defensiveness. we reconnected in a way we haven't for years, and started a journey down a path to rediscovery of ourselves and our connection. when we parted, it wasn't with sadness, it was with joy, love, and respect for one another as people, as mom and son.

and so on this day devoted to Moms everywhere, i want to recognize my special Mom, and all that she has given to me. i love you Mom. you gave me life and helped me become who i am today, and i will never again take for granted your special spirit and gift to the world, and all that you have given me.

Posted by docrpm on 05.10.09 at 11:31 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

April 12, 2009

By appointment or chance

file under: my life

there is a small used bookstore around the corner from my house. i have never been inside, but recently i was out taking a walk in the warm Easter sunshine, and happened to stroll by. it was closed, but i stopped to look in the window.

ever since college, i've been a used bookstore junkie, always dropping in to see if there are any good remainders, or anything i need to round out my collection. i don't need one more book, but it doesn't stop me looking. it's always fascinating to see the titles they choose to put out, too...literary window dressing is a brand statement that shows what you might expect to find in this particular store. i found the selection at this shop fascinating:

• The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien (an old printing by a non-mainstream press)
• The Transgressors by Jim Thompson (an old pulp noir novel put out by Vintage)
• Guns, Germs and Steel by Jared Diamond
• Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
• The Book of Gold (an old book that looked to be the kind a 12-year-old would devour in a weekend, learning everything there is to know about the precious metal)
• A book on Vietnamese history and philosophy (title and author escape me)

you couldn't get a much more eclectic selection. well, i suppose you could if you threw in a B-grade romance novel by Danielle Steele, a collection of children's nursery rhymes, and something about quantum field theory. but you get the point. just seeing what was in the window made me want to go in the store to see what else they have on their shelves, and also see who runs the shop. i'll have to go back another day.

the other thing that caught my eye were the two hand-written signs in the window, each penned in blue ink by a slightly erratic hand. the first said, "We may, or may not, be open on Easter. — Mgmt (Thank you for your patronage)" at the bottom of the hours sign was another curious statement: that you could engage with the owner and store by appointment, or by chance. hours are for the world of the rational, this said to me...why not be open to chance as well? who knows what might happen?

imagine how it unfolds, how the happenstance walk could lead to a visit to the store, which is open by chance. a book lies on the counter, cast aside by a disinterested reader, but at that moment, in that state of mind, it is perfect somehow for what you need, the gem that inspires dreams or fills the soul or brings deep reflection and satisfaction. and maybe this book creates a thought, then an action, then a transformation. all by chance. just because the owner of the store decided to open their doors that sunny day, hoping to maybe fulfill a soul or fire a dream.

Posted by docrpm on 04.12.09 at 4:32 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

April 11, 2009

courage and the corner store

file under: my life

a new store opened up in my neighborhood recently. as it was being prepared, there was a sign that made it look like another corner restaurant was going in, which was cause for excitement...always good to have more local restaurants. once it opened, however, it turned out to be something different.

it's called something like "Cafe Brasil," but it's not really a cafe. it's actually a Brazilian specialty shop, selling everything from pre-packaged Brazilian foods to cheap flip-flops to soccer jerseys. in other words, lots of random crap. as i first thought to write this entry, it was going to be a humorous jab at people who open stores that sell random crap. after all, how many more of those outlets does the world need? there's more good crap to buy than anyone could ever possibly imagine or purchase, and the random crap just adds to the noise. one could also argue it leads to lowering the societal bar in terms of what we need (and very much don't need) in our lives.

but taking potshots at people selling things we ostensibly don't need is pretty easy, and actually kind of snarky. so i thought about that corner store a little more, and realized there is probably something to be admired there.

while i may not think that Brazilian specialty goods is the best thing to have in a corner store, someone did. someone had a vision for that store, and worked quite hard to realize it. the property was a disaster before they took it over, and had to be carefully remodeled over the course of several months. at least now, it's clean and adds some much-needed character to the neighborhood. it also probably took a bit of effort to determine what speciality goods to bring in, where to source them from etc etc.

it took courage for someone to bring that tiny store to life, to try to realize their dreams (or at least, it seems so to me). that's what they believed in and wanted to do, and they did it.

as i think about my own professional life, i ask myself, how much courage have i had? how willing have i been to take risks, to pursue my dreams, to follow a vision for myself that had heart? when i left my career as a scientist to pursue who-knows-what in the world of the Web, i took a great risk, and it paid off in terms of personal growth and happiness. but for the last 5 years at least, i'd say my professional life has been entirely reactive and risk-free: i followed a fairly clear path, without giving a huge amount of thought to where it was going. after all, i was making good money and didn't feel entirely dissatisfied with what i was doing.

the time has come for that all to change, again. the time has come to find courage, to re-establish vision, and to pursue my dreams, wherever they may ultimately lead me. and whether or not they know it, those people in the corner store lead by example. even if they fail, they have followed a path with heart, followed their vision, and that is what i must do.

Posted by docrpm on 04.11.09 at 12:41 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

March 31, 2009

self and profession

file under: my life

my sense of self is inextricably linked with my professional life.

this isn't true for everyone, but it is for me. as i embark on a critical analysis of my goals and ambitions and professional direction, i find myself looking deeply into the mirror. who am i, really? what is it that drives me as a human being? how do my deepest fears and desires manifest themselves in how i do my work? what are my true strengths as a person, and how do i use them to full effect? what are the things that inspire me to achieve?

in my case, it turns out there aren't any easy answers to these questions. you could argue pretty easily that i think too much about these things, but as it turns out, i haven't thought that much about it for the last decade. i'm now at the point in my life where i can say i've ignored things for decades, and maybe that's why i'm peeling back the veneer or my day-to-day life and looking at what's underneath.

at the end of it all, what i seek in my career seems pretty simple: to help people by solving problems. it's the fusion of the intellectual and the emotional, the scientist and the artist. it's the dichotomy that i've always felt inside me, the polar opposites of the purely rational and the intensely emotional.

in rational pursuits, i can exercise and apply my mind to bring order to chaos, to simplify the complex, to create and discover new things. i can come up with ideas, make them real. i can try to decipher the mysteries of the world, learning and growing in the process. but all of these pursuits are meaningless without the emotional component, without the way my actions affect others.

and so with this emotional dimension of helping others, i build the connections with people i've always wanted deeply (yet that have often eluded me). i can try to make a difference in people's lives, which seems to give more value to my own. i do my best to make the world a better place, however small my contributions may be. maybe it's my fight against existential angst, or maybe it's just my desire to be loved and accepted. maybe it doesn't matter.

what are the ways i manifest these twin desires in my professional life? what's the best course, if any? or can i satisfy these desires, achieve my goals, regardless of the literal course i take?

i'm currently on a journey to answer that very question...

Posted by docrpm on 03.31.09 at 11:01 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

March 29, 2009

The Yearbook

file under: my life

after several years of career tumult, combined with post-dot-com survival-oriented myopia, i am standing back and assessing my professional goals, my direction, my aspirations. that it comes as i approach (or have entered) middle age is probably no coincidence. it gives me the benefit of having enough years under my belt to ask, who do i really want to be, and how does my professional life support my goal?

unexpectedly, as part of this process, my personal history has found its way into my thinking, as i realize how some of my experiences have led me down the path of my life to today. the first clear manifestation of this personal-professional connection comes as i examine what motivates me as a human being.

recognition of my accomplishments is certainly one theme, even though on the surface i shy away from public accolades and dislike being in the spotlight. in my mind, this desire for recognition is connected with a deep need for acceptance. as shallow as it may be, i want people to accept me for who i am, to value me as a human being, despite whatever faults i possess (in abundance). i've always been very independent, but looking back, i see a continuous thread related to this need.

while our childhoods are filled with formative events, there's one that stands out for me as particularly painful, something that crystallized my feeling of otherness and burned to the ground any notion i had that i was truly accepted. as i try to integrate this need for acceptance into who i am, i need to give a voice to this past pain.

this isn't for any of you reading. this isn't to provide anyone with a window into my soul. this isn't to gain your acceptance or sympathy. on this one occasion, i don't want it. this is for me.

...

in 1979, i was in the seventh grade at Thurston middle school. in that era, there was no MySpace with all your friends, no Facebook to show how popular you were, no Twitter to show how many people cared about what you were eating for lunch or what you thought about the events of the day. one important social currency that did exist then, however, was the school yearbook.

the yearbook represented your community, your friends, your standing in the tiny world in which you lived. who you got to sign it, who was willing to, was manifest popularity. if someone was willing to sign your yearbook, it was some show of validation, and what they wrote even moreso. the humorous entries, the serious confessions of enduring love and friendship – these were the gems we all sought. the "have a great summer" entries were clearly penned by those who neither cared much, or knew us so well that it didn't make sense to say more. i remember looking back on those inscriptions for months following signing week, depositing good feelings in the bank, and maybe being sad that some accounts couldn't be filled...would never be filled.

i went away to England at the beginning of that summer, leaving before school was out. i would miss the annual ritual of yearbook signing, so i asked one of my friends to take my yearbook around and have people sign it for me. when i returned from my trip, and contacted him to get this treasure back, he told me to come by and pick it up. my mom and i drove there, and i remember feeling excited to see what had been written. he wasn't there when we arrived. dark house. doors locked. and my blue yearbook sitting in the outdoor mailbox. maybe he couldn't be there to hand it to me personally, i thought. and so we picked it up and went home.

as i feverishly read through all that had been written, i realized that in addition to the perfunctory "have a great summer" inscriptions, there were perhaps half a dozen others with a different purpose. my friend had had people (popular kids, kids i didn't know) sign it, spewing the soul-crushing sentiments that only children can conceive. i was a jerk. i didn't really have any friends. people loved laughing behind my back. one after another. and then came the denouement, the crown jewel: an obviously fake entry from the girl i was transparently in love with (but who was unattainable), saying how she cared for me and couldn't wait to see me at the beach.

no building was tall enough to jump off. no amount of tears could wash away that betrayal and the hatred i felt. at that moment, though, i think i turned a lot of that anger and hatred and sadness inwards, feeling that i didn't deserve to be accepted. that maybe they were right. after all, how could i confront the friends who i knew did this, to even give voice to what i was feeling? that would just prove my weakness and need for their acceptance. and so i swallowed it. for years.

i may have made a few remarks to them later about it. i don't remember clearly. i do recall telling one of those who i suspected was involved, and his response was basically, "we were kids. we did some bad things." and this is probably exactly the right response. children to terrible things, manifesting their own deep-seated insecurities and needs for acceptance by making others feel lower. and on that level, i can forgive what happened. at the same time, it was deeply wrong what they did, and it's hard to just overlook that kind of viciousness.

but there's no point in excoriating them for their actions, however childish or wrong. after so many years, it hardly matters. certainly not to them.

what does matter is what it did to the little boy that was me. what does matter is that i accept that little boy's sadness at feeling different, that i accept him, despite all his faults. that he didn't do anything wrong to deserve what was done. i have grown from him, and he is part of me. his need for acceptance lives on in me, and perhaps i'll overcome it one day. but for now, i will live with this flaw and try to let something positive grow from it, rather than pretend it doesn't exist. it does. it's in my closet of shortcomings, but i've just opened the door, and at least now i can choose whether or not i want to wear that shabby old coat.

Posted by docrpm on 03.29.09 at 2:25 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

October 28, 2008

the insult and injury of aging

file under: my life

i realized recently that aging is a series of forces that negatively reinforce one another to make our lives progressively more "interesting".

case in point -- as i age i find that two things are happening: 1) my eyesight is getting worse (i now need to wear reading glasses), and 2) i am becoming slightly more forgetful. when you combine these two things together, what you get is the fact that i am constantly in situations where i need my reading glasses, but i have forgotten to bring them, and hence can't see what i'm doing.

in evolutionary terms, as my friend chookyfuzzbang points out, this would normally mean i'd be blown out of the gene pool at this point. fortunately, we live in modern times, and i'm not subject to being eaten by large predators because i forgot to bring my stylish reading glasses on the hunt. i do, however, often find myself in situations where i can't see my food when i go out to eat.

as my father-in-law is fond of saying, getting old sucks.

Posted by docrpm on 10.28.08 at 10:13 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)

January 1, 2008

What's New Year's without helium?

file under: my life

What's New Year's without helium?

We had a terrific New Year's Eve with Joe, Betty, Trevor, Pam, Tony, and Roberto. Cocktails led to dinner led to cocktails led to celebration led to more cocktails led to hangover. Dinner was at Citron in Berkeley, and cocktail hour(s) were held at Joe and Betty's in the Oakland hills. of course, photos of the festivities are available.

Happy New Year's wishes from us to everyone else out there!! we hope you have a fantastic 2008. We're looking forward to lots of fun and adventure ourselves.

Posted by docrpm on 01.01.08 at 10:16 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

November 29, 2007

sunshine: the saga continues

file under: my life

i've ranted about my efforts to try to see Sunshine, the sci-fi effort by Danny Boyle. i have a new update to the saga.

i was trying to plan a movie night with friends to watch it here on my new big screen HDTV (aka Wank-o-vision), but i had to wait until it was out on rental. i figured a month or two after our aborted attempts to see the film, we'd be munching popcorn, having cocktails, and watching the gorgeous vision of Mr. Boyle. not so.

i waited. and waited. and waited. and amazon didn't post a DVD release date. and now i check back, and it's January 8, 2008. are you kidding me? from a theatrical release of July 20, 2007? this is the modern age, people. digital means everything is faster, mmkay?

i am certain, now, that when i get this movie from netflix, the disc will be scratched, and i will send it back for another one, and before it comes back, my house will be struck by lightning and burn to the ground. i will never see this movie.

Posted by docrpm on 11.29.07 at 7:13 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)

October 31, 2007

Candy, little girl?

file under: my life

Happy Halloween!

This year was a total frenzy on our block. Someone up the street decided to get fancy with a haunted garage, complete with dead body in the washing machine and live ghost-girl. As a result, we got about three times the normal volume of trick-or-treaters, which meant the candy ran out early. Doh!

Posted by docrpm on 10.31.07 at 11:18 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

October 7, 2007

for lynette cains

file under: my life

it was great to see your comment on one of my posts, and it would be even better to reconnect, but the email address i had for you is dead. any way you could drop me an email?

Posted by docrpm on 10.07.07 at 10:26 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

red ring of death, part II

file under: my life
tags: xbox

in the second part of my xbox 360 saga, microsoft comes through!!! they provided one of the best customer service experiences i've had. i'm still sort of in shock (and a little sad that i can't write a total anti-microsoft rant for this entry ;-)):

1. the box to return my 360 arrived as promised, and sending it back was a snap (pre-paid postage, packing materials included, good instructions from the CSR)
2. i went away to china for two weeks expecting to wait another 1-3 weeks to receive my new unit after returning
3. microsoft sent me a completely new machine and it arrived while i was away (i.e., 1-3 weeks earlier than estimated by the CSR with whom i spoke)
4. in addition to the new 360, they gave me a coupon for a free month of xbox live (given that i was out of commission for two weeks)

it may be costing them a billion dollars to deal with this hardware mess, but this experience completely reinforces my platform loyalty. oh yeah, that and the fact that the games are great (helloooooo Bioshock! hellloooooo Halo 3).

Posted by docrpm on 10.07.07 at 10:18 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

September 8, 2007

red ring of death, part I

file under: my life
tags: xbox bioshock

my Xbox360 died the true death, this coming right as i was about to run out and buy Bioshock following my friend Chooky's mouth-frothing review of the game. suffice it to say: we were not amused

...

for those of you who aren't either mouth-breathing gamer geeks (like me), or generally interested in the gaming industry or microsoft's foray into it, the red ring of death is a term used to describe a problem with Xbox360s. when an indicator on the front of the console flashes with three (not four) red lights, this indicates a "general hardware failure". while this can mean any number of things, the biggest problem it seems to indicate is an issue with heat generated by the 360s chip set. the chips heat up, everything around the chips heats up, things thermally expand or melt, and unhappiness ensues.

so what does one do when this happens? gotta send your 360 back to Microsoft for repair or replacement. i called Microsoft Xbox support last night to get the process started, steeling myself for what i thought would be an unpleasant battle with the behemoth. as it turned out, they were extremely helpful, and it sounds like the process should go smoothly (famous last words?). the CSR took down my information and told me they would be sending me a box within which i can ship back my 360. the box comes with packing materials and pre-paid shipping via UPS, so all i have to do is pack it up and drop it off at UPS. supposedly, 3-4 weeks later, my repaired 360 will be returned to me. let's hope the rest of this experience is as good as the first part has been (aside from the hardware failure and need to postpone Bioshock gratification).

stay tuned for more...

Posted by docrpm on 09.08.07 at 9:19 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

August 18, 2007

where the sun doesn't shine

file under: my life
tags: humor , rant , sunshine

that's where the AMC Loews Sony Metreon 452-screen-megaplex-built-like-a-bad-midwest-airport-oh-and-
did-i-mention-with-an-IMAX-theater can stick it, as far as i'm concerned.

last night we went to see Sunshine, the latest effort by Danny Boyle (of Trainspotting and 28 Days Later fame). i managed to corral a group of interested friends, and we headed over to the Metreon (which, incidentally, was the only theater in San Francisco showing this film). we stopped for a nice dinner at Out the Door in the Westfield center, then made our way to the theater, our hearts all atwitter at the thought of a big sci-fi epic.

our first disappointment was that it was not on the IMAX screen (which i resolutely claim was due more to bad information design on Fandango that to my inability to read). this meant nowhere to sit, and since i had anticipated a huge throng of anxious viewers, i figured we'd be camping out for awhile. not so. with an hour to kill and nowhere to hang out, we browsed the Chronicle book section on the ground floor, then headed back upstairs when it was time.

the tiny theater was totally empty; apparently, the film isn't a big money-maker, as the Metreon has shunted it off into one of the untouchable theaters with screens about the size of my HDTV (which is big, i grant you, but seriously, folks). about 10 minutes before the movie, a few people started filing in, and by screening time, it was a about half full. the lights dimmed, and the previews began, which leads to our second disappointment: crappy previews.

on the third preview for a child fantasy film, we began to get a little suspicious. the theater/marketers seemed to be just a wee bit off in terms of their target demographic. i had expected to be seeing sci-fi horror flick teasers, but i was willing to go with it. after about 15 trailers (okay, it was only 7 or 8), the lights dimmed fully and hearts began to race. the warner brothers logo began to fill the screen (???),  smoke swirling around it in a very kid's-fantasy-film way (???), the music swelled ("hey wait a second...this sounds familiar"), and then the main title expanded to fill the screen...Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix!!!!

a collective murmur went through the crowd, one that followed a very pregnant pause during which we all reflected on whether or not we were stupid enough to walk into the wrong theater with a film starting at exactly the same time as our desired entertainment. everyone realized that we were right and the theater projectionist was wrong. a number got up and left to find those responsible, and the rest of us waited. after about 5 minutes or so, someone from the theater came and said they had loaded the wrong film, were rethreading the projector, and we'd get started in about 5 minutes, with no more previews.

after what seemed like 20 minutes (but was probably only 10), the film started. the vertical alignment was off, and it was out of focus, but they rectified that quickly enough. a tiny spot filled the screen and grew into our sun, and a voice-over by cillian murphy started. phew...they got the film right. after about 3 minutes, and right at a critical moment in the first scene, the speaker in the upper right of the theater erupted in a wash of high-frequency noise, which at first blush seemed like a sound effect. after the noise began to drown out the dialogue in the next scene, we realized it was a bug, not a feature, and again, people got up to complain. after a good 10 minutes of this noise, the sound was returned to normal, but only after we had missed at least two big scenes in the introduction. another employee from the theater came in and explained to flustered viewers that they would not be restarting the film from the beginning, and if we wanted our money back, we could go to guest services.

at this point i was reminded of the scene in Annie Hall when woody allen and diane keaton go to see a film, and they are 5 minutes late. the film had already started and allen refused to go in, saying it just wasn't the same. in that instant last night, i empathized with him. we had only missed 10 minutes, but it wouldn't be the same, so we got up and stomped out of the theater to guest services. they gave us three free passes and refunded our money, which made the books square, as it were, but still left a debt of anger.

in retrospect, i have to say that this episode makes no sense. if they had just restarted the film, they probably wouldn't have had to refund our money (or at least, not everyone's money). by giving us free passes, it's true that they lure us back to the theater for more sales at the concession stand, but at what cost? how many of the people in that theater are going to continue patronizing the Metreon after they cash in their free passes? after so many screw-ups they had a chance to make it right, but they didn't. so i probably won't be going back after i cash out, even if it's the theater of last resort for a film i have to see on the big screen. i'll bite the cinephile bullet and wait to watch it at home before i give those jerks any more of my money.

grrr.

Posted by docrpm on 08.18.07 at 4:36 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

June 17, 2007

our one-year anniversary

file under: my life

one year ago today, elaine and i got married. i'd marry her again, and a hundred times more. it's hard to believe it's been a year. i suspect, when we're old and gray, we'll look back and say something similar. i look forward to that day and all the days in between.

how could you not with guns and a spirit like hers?

Posted by docrpm on 06.17.07 at 11:25 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

ryan and his dad

file under: my life

the photo above was taken around the end of 1974 when i was just about 8 years old. my dad had asked a friend of his to take some photos of us, and then to render them as mixed media artwork (which he did, with pencil and washes of vibrant orange and yellow that only the 70s could have produced). one of those pictures still hangs on my dad's wall today, along with some of the crude pen and ink drawings i did as a child.

thirty-odd years pass, and then the photo above is taken, one year ago today, on my wedding day – father and son, standing together on a day of immeasurable happiness after four decades riding the rolloercoaster of life. i would never have survived that ride, and enjoyed it the way i have, were it not for him.

thank you, Dad, for 40 years of standing by my side.

Posted by docrpm on 06.17.07 at 10:13 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)

June 16, 2007

one year minus one day

file under: my life
tags: elaine

Posted by docrpm on 06.16.07 at 11:23 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

June 8, 2007

where we were yesterday

file under: my life , travel
tags: leisure

elaine and i just got back from the beach...hard to believe that only yesterday morning, we were sweating in 85 degree heat on a fabulous stretch of sand in playa del carmen (on the yucatan peninsula). today we're back in the fog and cool breezes of a chilly san francisco summer. did we really take a vacation, or are those someone else's feet on that beach lounge? i guess i have the photos and memories to prove that it was us, but it's so easy to slip back into the routine of daily life as if these global excursions never even happened.

Posted by docrpm on 06.08.07 at 2:36 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

March 29, 2007

dropping out

file under: my life

i dropped out for awhile. i stopped blogging. i've done this before. i'll do my best to get back to it, because it's something that i enjoy, something that helps me feel more connected to the world. a few of you have even been so kind as to ask when i'd start writing again.

why did i stop? i've been asking myself that for weeks. most of the answers i could give wouldn't have any meaning for someone other than me – malaise, poor health, lack of motivation, lack of remotely interesting ideas, too much work. take your pick. all of these excuses suck. and so i will do my best to re-engage with all of you who happen to be reading.

Posted by docrpm on 03.29.07 at 8:18 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

October 25, 2006

the inconstant blogger

file under: my life

radio silence lasted a bit longer than anticipated (honeymoon, protracted illness, work chaos). we will be resuming our regularly scheduled programming shortly. upcoming programs will include:

• wedding recollections, musings, and miscellany
• fabulous honeymoon photographs and stories of sunburns and sea turtles
• things you don't think about before you get married, but probably should
• movie, book and music reviews of recent favorites

we hope you'll stay tuned...

Posted by docrpm on 10.25.06 at 6:51 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)

July 1, 2006

number 34

file under: my life

the results are in: san francisco is the 34th most expensive place to live in the world. given the fact that elaine and i seem to be struggling to buy a house (despite a more-than-decent combined income), i guess i'd have to say i'm a little surprised.

a few cities in that list seem like they should fall a little lower than SF (Istanbul, Douala, Lagos). i only say this because Elaine and I have been idly pondering moving elsewhere, thinking that the housing madness that has gripped SF is a localized phenomenon. based on that list, it looks like we're wrong. strictly speaking, that listing is a reflection of total cost of living (not just housing), so there may be other things at play. even so, we may not be moving as quickly as we might have thought. ;-)

Posted by docrpm on 07.01.06 at 3:02 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

June 26, 2006

wedding paparazzi linkroll (to go)

file under: my life

elaine and i got married on June 17.

(moment of silence)

woo hoo!!!!!!!

while a post is forthcoming that shares some of my thoughts from that most glorious day, i wanted to make some photos available. in addition to our paid photographer and his assistant, there were several paparazzi in evidence at the wedding, many of whom are either Flickr fans, or have their own Web sites. in an effort to provide anyone who is interested with full, unadulterated coverage, the following linkroll for our wedding is offered:

• Teter : Flickr
• From Jimi: Photographs and a video of the bride-walk
• Freitas : Flickr
• James Hsieh's pictures
• Stephen McDonald : Flickr

Posted by docrpm on 06.26.06 at 7:11 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)

June 14, 2006

houston, we are go

file under: my life

things are looking good for the wedding on saturday. no freak june rain or heat waves to melt our cake. just a nice, mild Berkeley day.

now, i just have to write those vows...

Posted by docrpm on 06.14.06 at 7:18 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

June 3, 2006

two weeks

file under: my life

elaine and i are getting married in two weeks.

wow.

not really much to say beyond that. it probably goes without saying that the frequency of posting on this blog, while not high, is going to decrease for a few weeks. as we rocket toward the date (June 17), it's as if we're in a starship approaching the speed of light, our field of view shrinking, time distorting. the wedding is beginning to eclipse everything...it is our life.

we can't wait to be married, to celebrate with our friends and family, and to ultimately get our lives back. ;-)

Posted by docrpm on 06.03.06 at 8:27 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

May 10, 2006

for elaine

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 05.10.06 at 7:02 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

April 16, 2006

happy easter

file under: my life

the easter tradition continues. we hope you had a wonderful easter!

Posted by docrpm on 04.16.06 at 8:34 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

April 7, 2006

the worst packing job ever

file under: my life

generally, i think amazon is the best thing since sliced bread. however, they blew it this time. the photo above shows what has to be the most egregious waste of packing (not to mention shipping) resources i have ever seen. that entire box, measuring 26" L X 20" W X 9" H was used to ship one baking sheet.

i'm trying to figure out how this could have happened, and i'm a bit puzzled. stupidity is an obvious answer, but i occasionally like to give people credit. anyone got any ideas?

Posted by docrpm on 04.07.06 at 5:02 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack (0)

April 3, 2006

where did that job go?

file under: my life

i lost my job last week. or maybe the week before, i don't know.

this is the third job i've lost in four years. clearly, there is a gap between the value my employers perceive in me, and that which i perceive in myself. or not. i'm just not sure. as an "information worker" in the new millennium, it's hard to tell. it seems that you can be an intelligent, valued, and productive member of a company, and yet still lose your job.

something has changed since the days of employment for life, i'd say. it seems those days are a quaint anachronism, at this point – a pleasant, yet unrealizable, memory of the past.

i don't know what my future holds. in the next year or so, probably more consulting work. i don't know any more if that's a good thing or a bad thing. consultants are criticized for wasting people's time and money, yet grudgingly accepted as providing a valuable service. which is it, ultimately, that sticks in people's minds? the waste or the value?

i tell people that i lost my job, and from my fellow knowledge workers in the bay area , i get knowing support. from others, there is a sadness i sense, bordering on pity. "lost another job, huh? well, i keep hearing that things are tough in that Internet business...hmmmm. good luck!!"

good luck, indeed. anyone got a crystal ball? i've got a future with a beautiful wife, kids, and mortgage to support. should i stay in this crazy business, or get out? it's hard to know what to do.

Posted by docrpm on 04.03.06 at 1:12 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

March 30, 2006

You could feel the sky

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 03.30.06 at 8:13 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

March 17, 2006

Because one is not enough

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 03.17.06 at 8:08 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Whats a saint without a pat?

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 03.17.06 at 8:02 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Happy st patricks day!

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 03.17.06 at 7:59 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

March 11, 2006

Snow in San Francisco

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 03.11.06 at 1:45 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

February 16, 2006

my vaporcloud valentine

file under: my life

valentine's day is traditionally a night at home for us. we eschew the crowds and the reservation wars, and cook for each other. this year was especially exciting for a few reasons:

• we tried a new recipe (Coconut & Brown Sugar Brined Pork Tenderloin with Broken Fried Rice & Pickled Baby Bok Choy)
• it was the one-year anniversary of my proposal to elaine
• the universe did as much as it could to make it difficult to achieve our state of domestic bliss

the day started out reasonably well. i had to make one trip to the store to get cinnamon sticks (to put in the brine, which i had already set out the previous night). this constituted my fourth grocery store trip for this v-day venture (drewes meats for the pork tenderloin, 99 ranch for many asian ingredients, local Good Life for other non-asian ingredients, then Good Life part 2 for the cinnamon sticks, which i forgot the first time). on my way, i stopped at the flower store to order flowers for the evening (thinking ahead, i sez to myself). and then i popped home, hopped in my car, and bopped to work, thinking said vehicle would convey me home fast and furious when the time came.

i was wrong on several counts.

1. it took me 40 minutes to drive the 5.8 miles from work to home
2. the flowers were not ready when i stopped to pick them up (despite 8 hours notice)
3. when the florist called me (after coming home) to say the flowers were ready, i went and they were not. as a side note, the store was packed with middle-aged men, each with a somewhat bewildered look, approaching the flower-store register like zombies. they all had a similar story: " yeah....ummmm...i need a bouquet. my wife likes flowers. you know, pretty ones? uhhhh. <cough> yeah. can you help?"
4. when carrying the flowers home, the wind kicked up to gale-force proportions, wreaking havoc with the three bouquets i was carrying. tissue paper blew away, flowers broke, hearts broke. it wasn't pretty.
5. when i started cooking, i realized that the stock of vinegar in my cabinet did not include enough white vinegar for the pickled baby bok choy. grocery-store-trip number five, thank you very much. as side note number two, the (straight male) iranian clerk at the store gave me a chocolate heart and said "happy valentine's day!!" this made me very happy.

other than that, everything went great. elaine loved the meal i cooked (see below) and cried when i gave her a set of home-made valentine's day gift certificates (you know – one nice massage, one dinner at the slanted door, two falafels at my favorite place in paris, etc.).

and then there was the creme brulee. this was a first for both of us, and elaine had purchased one of those little torches from sur la table to caramelize our tasty dessert treat. suffice it to say that neither of us was exactly a pro when it came to these mini torches. first, we struggled to fill it with butane (it kept overflowing despite not being full). then, when trying to light the flame, nothing really happened. or, rather, nothing happened at first.

elaine was flipping switches and pushing buttons, and high-pressure butane was squirting out the nozzle (unlit) into the sink. after a couple of attempts in a similar vein, with no ignition, the flame finally lit, with one rather dramatic effect: it ignited the vapor cloud of butane that had been collecting over the sink from all of the liquid butane we had been squirting into it. said vaporcloud of flame covered both sinks, burned half the hair off elaine's right arm, singed her sweater, and nearly gave me a heart attack.

dessert anyone?

happy valentine's day. i think we'll go to mcdonalds next year. ;-)

Posted by docrpm on 02.16.06 at 10:30 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

February 9, 2006

my dinner with andrew

file under: my life

i had dinner with my friend andrew last night, and it was even more fun than the famous film of a somewhat similar name (my dinner with andre). no comparison, actually.

there...i blogged again.

it's been a long time, and i needed to break the silence. many movies and books on the brain, but will have to write about them later. oh yeah, and remind me to talk about trying to fold fitted sheets.

Posted by docrpm on 02.09.06 at 12:38 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

January 24, 2006

Jimi, de nouveau

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 01.24.06 at 11:00 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

January 19, 2006

another day, another year

file under: my life

and so another year in the life passes. now when people ask the question, i have a shiny new answer, one that's a year closer to a landmark in aging. for anyone who's counting, i'm gonna throw a wake next year, so get ready.

nothing to report after this year, aside from a new job and getting engaged to a wonderful woman. lots of good things. not ready for my Depends™ yet.

Posted by docrpm on 01.19.06 at 10:46 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

January 7, 2006

aliens in my nose

file under: my life

for those readers who are squeamish or otherwise uninterested in hearing about bodily functions, go ahead and skip this one. alternatively, if you feel like hearing a profound philosophical discourse using something that came out of my nose as a starting point, please continue!

...

every once in awhile, something comes out of your body that looks like it really didn't belong there in the first place. i have to give my body a hand on these occasions for a job well done. it's good to know someone's in charge of keeping things in order. i may not always agree with the timing or manner of ejection, but i can't really complain. after all, body knows best, right?

now, unless you're being used as an incubator for the Alien of movie fame, things your body forcibly ejects are probably going to come out of one of three natural points of egress: nose, mouth, or bowel terminus (aka your bum).

stuff that comes out of your mouth is usually a multicolored mess that could only be mistaken for something living on the rarest of occasions. more often than not, it's just a pile of slop whose character is determined by your most recent dining experience. mmm...spaghetti and spumoni ice cream! on second thought, your mouth can produce one other tasty treat: lung oysters, usually ejected at high velocity after a lung-rattling cough. these don't really look alien per se, although they could be seen as evidence of aliens passing by recently.

on the opposite end of things, what comes out of your bum can vary a bit. if you've been having a tough time of things, colonically speaking, it will probably look similar to mouth-based ejecta, although smell a lot worse. nothing alien here. a second option, if you haven't been eating your fiber but are otherwise healthy, is a pile of very small rocks. finally, if you have been eating your fiber, we can get some primitive life forms; nothing fancy here – think large, slow-moving ground slugs. a gastorenterologist could probably offer a richer taxonomy of bum-based offspring, but i'm trying to keep things simple.

and then we come to the nose. the real aliens, my friends, come out of your nose.

not always. sometimes, your nose is the most benign of orifices, only offering clear liquid when blown vigorously. it just sits there on your face, looking a little odd, maybe offering a glimpse of something it shouldn't, but otherwise, totally harmless.

until it turns itself into an incubator. that's when your nose becomes a threat. think about the inside of your nose: it's hot; it's wet; it's dark. the perfect place for nasty things to happen. imagine an alien planet, with humid, murky swamps filled with horrors H.P. Lovecraft would admire: multi-legged, slimy, tentacled, and thoroughly unprincipled when it comes to things like face eating. that's what's going on in your nose when you've got some virus or bacteria that's decided to use you as a host.

in case you were wondering what brought on these musings about the body, i've been sick for the last few days. elaine and i both got sick on the cruise we took to mexico. talk about a virus factory – cruise ships are the worst combination possible: lots of people and runny-nosed kids, close quarters, everyone living la vida loca and letting down their immune system guard. it's an accident waiting to happen.

anyway, i got a sinus infection, and it was yesterday that my nose produced the foulest, most disgusting creature you have ever seen come out of a hole that small. seeing that green, yellow and red horror made me realize that the insides of our bodies are planets unknown to us, terra incognita that should be labeled profusely with signs that say 'here be monsters.' remember that old movie fantastic voyage? not a trip i want to take. no, i'm happy being on the outside, mostly blind to what's going on behind the scenes until my body decides it's time to share something from the land that is me.

Posted by docrpm on 01.07.06 at 10:03 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

December 22, 2005

Quote me

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 12.22.05 at 7:04 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

December 20, 2005

On the bus

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 12.20.05 at 9:20 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

November 16, 2005

phone box

file under: my life

the belly of the beast. it's amazing anything works at all.

Posted by docrpm on 11.16.05 at 11:39 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Esperpento

file under: my life

had dinner tonight with a good friend at Esperpento in the mission. this photo was hanging in the hallway by the bathroom. tios translates as aunt and uncle. maybe that's somebody's uncle, although the guy in the back doesn't really look like anyone's aunt.

Posted by docrpm on 11.16.05 at 10:38 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

October 13, 2005

the daily commute

file under: my life

for three years, i worked at home (most of the time). my daily commute consisted of rubbing my eyes, crawling out of bed, and ambling across the room (or through the house) to my computer. maybe i had an early conference call, maybe i didn't. maybe i had to get going early. maybe it just didn't matter. i think what you're sensing is that the pace of my life was, more or less, my own.

and then i got a real job. and a real commute.

...

the days of working in my pajamas ended, and i had to adjust my life accordingly. the commute adjustment was one of the more radical changes. no more sleepy-eyed swaggers across the bedroom. no, i had to get with the program and get my rear in transportation gear. as it turns out, i work in a part of town where parking runs about $300/month, which is a little rich for my blood. so that means public transportation is a part of my everyday life.

out the door. down the hill. wait for the MUNI. get on a crowded bus. get off at 24th street BART. wait. get on a train. get off the train. walk 10 minutes to my office. up the elevator. across the office to my desk. best-case scenario: 30 minutes, door to door. worst-case scenario, one hour (usually at night or early in the morning, when public transportation runs less frequently).

i like the whole theory of public transportation. it saves energy, pools resources, and brings people closer together in their daily routines. and then, of course, there is the practice of it all, which diverges just a bit from the theory. i've noticed a few things in these few months on public transport:

1. there's no nice way to put it—some people just stink (literally). and when you're crammed onto a bus or a train like sardines, this fact becomes pretty apparent. elaine gets it a lot worse than i do. she's at about armpit height for most of the stinky dudes, and sometimes you can just see her wilt.
2. standing up on a swaying bus is overrated. ditto for the train.
3. contrary to popular belief, reading on public transportation, particularly while standing up, is not easy.
4. when you're late for work, the bus is too. which makes you even later than you already were.
5. there is an inverse correlation between enjoyable weather conditions and how long you have to wait for the bus. the colder and darker it is, the longer you'll wait. ditto if it's scorching and humid.
6. the toughest thing to do after a long hard day at work is slog through the trenches of public transportation to get home. usually, you just want to be there.
7. public transportation brings out both the best and the worst in people. one the one hand, you've got perverts who can't leave women well enough alone. on the other, you've got people who give up their seats for old folks and pregnant women. it's a really mixed bag of humanity.

the thing i find most interesting about public transportation is people watching. i try to see if they look happy or sad, resigned or vacant. most of the time, people just look numb and vacant to me (if they're traveling alone). they could be having the best or worst day of their lives; i'd never know. for the most part, i think people like to put on their poker faces and hide in the crowd. in big cities, at least, i'd guess most people have no interest in meeting anyone else on the bus or train. they meet enough people. they just want to get from point A to point B.

point A to point B. it doesn't sound very far when you say it that way. it sounds like a safe little jaunt. maybe that's why people do what they do on their commutes: they try to make things as mundane as possible so it just feels easy, like going from A to B.

Posted by docrpm on 10.13.05 at 10:06 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

October 4, 2005

the music of chance

file under: my life

every once in awhile, i see things that are pure accident, yet seem like they could not have been staged better. i've always felt it's important to keep my eyes open for these things, because they're everywhere. you could devote an entire blog, an entire library, to the beauty that lives in everyday randomness.

Posted by docrpm on 10.04.05 at 8:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

September 26, 2005

palm springs in '05

file under: my life

my uncle boyd turned 75 this year. his partner ron threw a bug shindig in palm springs (where they live). elaine and i went to celebrate, along with about 327 of his other friends. it was a great time, all documented for posterity in a docrpm photo album that i'll call ryan, elaine, boyd, ron, and 327 of their closest friends.

Posted by docrpm on 09.26.05 at 10:53 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

September 25, 2005

camp mather and yosemite

file under: my life , travel

elaine and i visited camp mather and yosemite back in August. our friends paul and julia had rented a cabin for themselves and their two girls, but still had extra space. they were kind enough to invite us along, and we accepted, not really knowing what to expect.

camp mather has a long history dating back to the construction of O'Shaughnessy Dam and Hetch Hetchy reservoir, where it was used as a sawmill and a place for interested tourists to stay during construction of the dam. today, it's used as a recreational park for residents of san francisco. they have a highly competitive lottery every year for spots at the camp, and apparently it's always packed. well, it certainly was when we were there.

what follows are some of the highlights of the trip. of course, i documented nearly everything in a photo journal of camp mather and yosemite.

...

hetch hetchy and wapama falls
i'd known for some time that hetch hetchy was the primary source of san francisco's water, but didn't know much past that. i had never bothered to even see exactly where it was (it's in the northwestern part of yosemite).

it is a truly spectacular sight. of course, it should be—when the reservoir was created, it submerged an entire valley that was supposedly prettier than yosemite valley (25 miles to the south).
the dam itself is no Hoover, by any means, but it's still pretty grand. you can drive all the way up and walk out on top; look east and you see hetch hetchy reservoir stretching into the distance; look west, and you see the valley carved by the waterfall that used to be there.

i took a total of three trips up to Hetch Hetchy while at camp mather; it's only 8 miles away, after all.

the first trip, elaine and i went up with paul and did some stargazing on the dam at night (faciltiated by camp mather; the park is normally closed at night). one highlight was the bear we saw on the road on the way up. the bats were out in force once it got dark, which meant no mosquitoes, and the stars were bright. it was a great evening.

our second trip was for a hike that elaine and i took to wapama falls (~6 miles total). it's an easy hike along hetch hetchy that provides spectacular views or kolana rock and the falls. based on behavior we saw on our way in and out i would, however, like to make a few observations:

1. no swmming in the reservoir also means no swimming in the waterfalls that feed the reservoir. i saw a whole family disrobe and jump right in, just like it was the swimmin' hole back on the farm (or something).


2. guys, don't let your girlfriends take the hike in cute little sandals (no matter how well they coordinate with the rest of her outfit)


3. girls, don't listen to your boyfriends or spouses or resident male experts when they say "it's not that far – why are you wearing hiking boots and carrying water? you must think i'm a sissy or something."


4. dads, don't make your kids and/or wives carry gallon containers of water without backpacks; bad form, really...

the third trip was a day hike with john, paul, and their three girls, collectively. this was on the next–to–last day, and the ladies had gone off to do their own thing, leaving us with the kids. we figured this little excursion had the lowest probably of collective meltdown, with a good exit strategy. right on both counts: the girls loved the dam, and nobody melted down (except for a brief rampup to critical mass right before we left).

bridalveil falls
i hadn't been to bridalveil since i was a kid, so didn't really know what to expect. well, i can tell you at least one thing to expect: hordes. it was really pretty ridiculous how many people were there. it makes sense when you consider that you can park within 1/4 mile of the falls, and there is a paved, relatively flat path that leads right up to it. in a nutshell, beautiful, but jammed. the mist that sprays off the top of the falls pretty much makes up for it.

we went with paul, julia and kids, btw, expecting to continue for a short hike in the afternoon, but there was a meltdown at lunch, and they had to retreat back to camp. this is one thing we came to realize about having kids: you are not the master of your own destiny. you may think you are, but you're not. one second, everything is fine, and the next, there's screaming and shrieking and a black cloud of armageddon approaching.

we continued on to vernal falls...

vernal falls
this is a fantastic but strenuous hike. it's about 4 miles roundtrip, with perhaps a 1500 ft. vertical ascent to the falls. from that point, you can continue on to nevada falls and the john muir trail, or turn around and go back. the hike is a steep ascent along a dusty paved path; at some point, you reach a bridge that crosses the outlet from the falls, complete with bathrooms and drinking fountain. keep on heading up, and you'll eventually hit the mist trail, a beautiful section of the hike where you're showered with mist from the falls. odds are that at this point you'll be rewarded with not only a spectacular view of the falls, but also rainbows that bloom from the pond beneath. a last push up a steep set of stairs and a rock trail leads to the top of the falls. railings are provided so you can stand right next to the falls and look over the edge, along the mist trail and down the valley you just hiked up.

this trail was packed, too. jammed with people, many of whom were clearly not equipped for the hike. they were expecting a stroll along a nice little path, not a trudge up a 30 degree incline in the heat, followed by endless, steep stone stairs leading up to a narrow, rocky trail winding its way up to the falls. i heard one girl exclaim, "that was horrible!" as she trudged down the mountain. another girl coming down from the top had no shoes on (her sandals presumably didn't cut it; i saw them in her bag). i don't mind everyone and their uncle seeing the beauty of the great outdoors, but at least think about it for 12 seconds before you go out. please. if you feel down those stairs, you wouldn't just take yourself out; you'd nail about 10 other people as you went down.

sentinel dome
john, paul and i took a hike to sentinel dome one day, followed by a journey down to glacier point. sentinel dome is a bit of a drive from camp mather; maybe 45 minutes. once at the trailhead, it's only a 20 minute hike up to the dome, and an easy one at that. once on the dome, you're offered a spectacular view of half dome, vernal falls, nevada falls, upper and lower yosemite falls, and much of the valley. i recommend the hike highly.

as far as the hike to glacier point...this is another one of those packed destinations, jammed with people. it's an amazing view, but not really any better than sentinel dome. if you feel like avoiding the crowds, i'd skip it.

on our way back from the dome, we stopped in yosemite valley to see if we could catch a sight of some climbers on el capitan. as luck would have it, we did. we managed to spy a small crew of three or four making their way up the monolith. all i can really say is, "wow." those guys have cojones the size of the rock of gibraltar. either that, or they're really, really dumb.

camp mather
the camp itself is pretty nice. it's nestled in the trees, and has lots of facilities (lake, swimming pool, tennis courts, horse stables, archery range, baseball field). it also has a huge dining hall where they serve three meals a day (and the food is good, as far as these things go). the cabins themselves are pretty small, sparse, no running water, naked lightbulbs, no amenities; i think there are several different types of cabins on the grounds, but i can only comment on the one we stayed in. last but not least, communal bathrooms and showers, as well as a laundry room.

a few points, not in any order:

1. you've never seen so many bikes in your life. this place was like huffy heaven. the road past our cabin became a racetrack for the week we were there.
2. the only thing that surpasses screaming kids is screaming parents. i never saw so many parents over the edge in my life.
3. kids are always just a step or two away from completely ruining their parent's lives, or at least trying to. the periodic (and carefully timed) meltdown is de rigeur if you're under the age of 10. i swear they're like dogs—they sense fear and weakness.

***

we had a great time. i'm not sure we'll go back again before we have kids, but i heartily recommend camp mather if it's something that sounds appealing.

Posted by docrpm on 09.25.05 at 3:53 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

September 3, 2005

Kenny lives

file under: my life

For every station, there is a theme. Powell in sf exploits south park. Or is it the other way?

Posted by docrpm on 09.03.05 at 12:23 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

August 19, 2005

say 'aaaah'

file under: my life

i went in for my less–than–annual physical today. it was about as good as it gets, as far as these things go, but i left feeling no more confident about my health.

my last visit to the doctor was underwhelming. i wasn't feeling well, and finally elaine encouraged me to go for a visit. while not quite as difficult as moving the mountain to mohammed, it was pretty close. i don't like going to the doctor. in any case, i went with my list of complaints, and in the space of 10 minutes, i had as many referrals, got a swift handshake, and was out the door for a blood test. this was after i waited in the lobby for 30 minutes because my doctor was late getting to work. my basic reaction: "um....so why did i come to see you again?"

things were better this time. i only waited 5 minutes in the lobby, after which i was escorted to the flesh–toned examination room. i stripped down to shorts and t-shirt, waited 15 minutes while reading Time magazine (an interview of Michael Bay by David Ansen – riveting), then had my physical.

the exam itself probably took about 10 minutes. open your mouth and say "aaaaah". breath deeply, breathe normally, breathe deeply. blood pressure check (125/70!!!). a quick peek in the ears. a few prods of the neck and stomach looking for weird protuberances. "anything else bothering you?" my request for a PSA test, followed by brief discussion, a quick lube and a finger (or two or three) up the bum, and then positive assurances that everything looked good (so to speak).

[as an aside, i should note that he actually asked if it was ok to do the lube–and–poke before he did it...i thought that was very kind on the one hand, and slightly odd on the other. i mean, isn't it his job to stick his fingers up people's bums? it would be like me asking a client, "so is it ok if i ask you about what you want to do with your Web site?" ]

and that was it.

how much can you really tell about someone with this type of exam? i'd guess not much. you're gonna catch major physiological dysfunction, but other stuff is just gonna fall through the cracks. the human body is too complex to augur with such a simple exam.

the other thing that was on my mind through all this was the fundamental frailty of humans. a close friend of mine found this out a few days ago...his wife had a headache, started getting sick (vomiting and everything beyond), and went to the hospital. diagnosis: brain aneurysm. she had to have 4 hours of brain surgery, and is doing well, but in intensive care. she's 40, in good health, active...doesn't matter. she almost died, with little or no warning, and with no severe misbehavior on her part.

i've been thinking about her for days, hoping that it will all be ok. maybe it will, maybe it won't. we think it's up to us to decide, but only to a point. only to a point....

Posted by docrpm on 08.19.05 at 5:01 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

August 18, 2005

night life

file under: my life

the simple things seem to become more intense as life goes on. these moments feel like edward hopper without the sadness; bittersweet, without the bitter.

maybe it's just a bunker mentality, an escape into the warm glow of home, with work and war and wilderness left outside. maybe it's age. whatever it is, i know i'm lucky.

of course, this simplicity will all change, like everything does, but that will be good, too. every once in awhile, it's just good to open the eyes, see the moment, savor it.

Posted by docrpm on 08.18.05 at 9:37 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

August 3, 2005

open sunday

file under: my life

dinner at valentina's in bernal heights with alder and ruth. sometimes life seems like an old movie.

Posted by docrpm on 08.03.05 at 11:22 PM

July 24, 2005

a little sweat for lance

file under: my life

in honor of lance armstrong's victory at the tour de france today, elaine and i took a ride on the sawyer camp trail this morning. the bikers were out in force today, many of them yellow–jerseyed (either in tribute or aspiration).

it took us about an hour to ride the twelve miles, with brief pauses at the bridge near san andreas lake and the top of the trail. on the way back, we got stuck behind a ranger truck, and had to weave our way between the hordes on the trail. even so, i just kept thinking that lance could have done it at least twice as fast (if not faster, judging by his time trial results today).

his is an amazing story, and his seven triumphs at the Tour de France a feat that may never be surpassed. even though he stands in the shadow of eddy merckx (and probably also of miguel indurain), he has cast quite a shadow himself.

[NOTE: for the reader interested in more comprehensive coverage, check out my friend chooky's analysis of the tour de france.]

Posted by docrpm on 07.24.05 at 11:12 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

July 18, 2005

Chemtrails

file under: my life

some people clearly have issues — issues that are important to them and issues. i think you know what i mean.

this photo was taken near my favorite cafe/restaurant in berkeley (Cesar, on Shattuck near Andronico's). i took its text as command and googled "chemtrails," which took me to a page about chemtrails vs. contrails. i'm sure there is some valuable information to be found there, but the way it's advertised and presented, unfortunately, leads one to doubt the general stability of the presenter.

this is a shame, and it happens a lot. people who have important things to say often drown out their own messages with the other signals they send out. the world is a marketplace of ideas, for better or worse, and the reality is that sometimes, for a message to be heard, it needs to be spoken in a certain way...

Posted by docrpm on 07.18.05 at 9:40 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Outdoor TV Land

file under: my life

i was in santa monica today for a meeting. we grabbed a quick lunch at a food court at our destination, and since it was such a nice day, we ate outside. unfortunately, the only table that was open was right next to the 42" plasma screen they stuck by the tables in the shade of an overhang.

as a result, while eating an overpriced sandwich, we got to listen to (and watch, if we couldn't avoid it) "days of our lives."

i got indigestion.

ps: at the risk of navel–gazing, i find the on–screen text particularly amusing.

Posted by docrpm on 07.18.05 at 9:23 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

July 14, 2005

the truth and the light

file under: my life

there are times when the simplest things seem magical, like the way light reflects from a lens filter. light must be one of the most amazing things in our world, and yet it's so common that we scarcely see it. how much more joy would we all take from the world if we always saw the beauty in these tiny things?

Posted by docrpm on 07.14.05 at 9:44 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

June 21, 2005

wired for sleep (or not)

file under: my life

sleep is a precious gift, a blissful punctuation mark between day and night (or some other circadian rhythm that suits you (cf. Eastern Standard Tribe)). it keeps us calm, it keeps us happy; it keeps us from wanting to stick our fingers into light sockets or scream at people unnecessarily. it makes the never–ending stream of days into rewards, instead of punishments. (i'm speaking in terms of ideals here, people — work with me.)

in short, we could not live without it. and yet, many people don't sleep well, and they suffer for it. indeed, some of them die because of it.

a few nights ago, i took a first step into exploring my own world of sleep. i went to a sleep disorder clinic to undergo testing for sleep apnea.

...

sleep apnea is a not–so–silent destroyer, a wraith that descends in the night and rips the breath from your body. more accurately, it's a common sleep disorder; it's estimated that at least 12 million americans suffer from it (although people guess that many more cases go undiagnosed).

apnea literally translates as "without breath"; people who suffer (obstructive) sleep apnea stop breathing during their sleep, usually due to blockage of their air passages. snoring is a related issue; it's really just one step away from apnea, because the physiological causes of apnea are similar. for more information about apnea (and the menagerie of sleep disorders from which one can suffer), check out the national sleep foundation (NSF) (not to be confused with the other NSF, i.e., the National Science Foundation).

my journey to the sleep clinic began a month or so back when i went in for a pre–consultation. they screen people before sending them to the clinic; it's not for every tom, joe and josephine who feels like getting wired up for a night of fun. after a lengthy discussion of my sleeping patterns, my tendency to snore on my back, and a brief physical exam, i made it to the next level (woo hoo! oh...maybe not). i scheduled an appointment for the clinic (one month later – lots of people not sleeping very well, it seems).

if i had had no time to think about it, i probably would have gone in and things would have been ok. as it was, i had a month or more to ponder what it would be like to sleep wired up with more electrodes than a high–school science experiment. sometimes my mind gets the better of me in this regard, which means that by the time i actually went to the clinic, i had already biased myself into thinking that it was going to be next–to–impossible to go to sleep.

it was.

the clinic itself is on the top floor of UCSF Mount Zion medical center in San Francisco. there are several separate rooms, each with its own bathroom, TV, bed, armchair, and Monet painting against a suitably mauve background. when i arrived at the clinic at 8:30pm, the sleep tech David told me to make myself comfortable, asked me what time i usually went to sleep, asked me to fill out some standard disclaimer forms, then went away. more time to think about it.

he came back around 10:30pm, and told me that it would take about 30 minutes to get me wired up. forget unobtrusive cranial meshes or other high–tech devices engineered for a relaxing experience. we're talking cables. we're talking colloidal head cement. we're talking harnesses and straps.

i couldn't get an exact count. i'm fairly certain i had at least four electrodes on my face, five or six on the rest of my head, two on my throat, two on my upper chest, and four on my legs. as if that weren't enough, i also had two circumferential straps wrapped around my upper and lower chest, and a clip monitor on the end of my right index finger. the cherry on top of this nightmare was the breath sensor that was wrapped around my head, over both ears and stuck up my nose.

et voila. beauty sleep, frankenstein style.

i read for awhile (my usual routine) then turned out the light. the cables pulled. the electrodes on the back of my head felt like little pebbles on my pillow. i rolled over on my side and rotated my legs for a more comfortable position. two cables came loose (not enough electrode glue in my hair, i suppose). i also ripped the cables off my lower leg. sigh.

the tech came in and made adjustments. i tried to settle in for a calm night's sleep, not rolling or turning or making excessive movements. no, really, just relax.

did i mention you can't get up to go to the bathroom, since you're attached to the wall by about 15 cables?

you can see where this went. i couldn't get to sleep. i tried and tried and tried. i tried breathing techniques. i tried thinking of nothing. i tried thinking of calm places. nothing worked.

and there's something else.

before we started the experiment, i had to do a series of tests to verify that all the connections were appropriately located and attached. the room was wired for both sound and infrared video, so everything i did was under scrutiny. david told me to stare straight ahead, eyes open. now with eyes closed. (hmm...he can tell if my eyes are open or closed from the other room). look left. look right. look up. look down. breathe in. breathe out. lift your left leg. lift your right leg. ok, everything looks good...sleep well!!

what do you mean, everything looks good? i feel like a lab rat. *i* don't look good. what happens if i fart in my sleep or inadvertently grab my genitals? all recorded for medical posterity? and what about the side of me that likes to pass tests? how am i supposed to pass this one?

the whole experience reminded me of an old thought experiment: tell someone to NOT think of a pink elephant in the corner of the room. the first thing they think of is said pink elephant. in similar fashion, in a circumstance where i'm effectively being told, "whatever you do, don't stay awake", what's the first thing i do?

i think i slept for two hours. i woke up over and over and over. the cables kept coming loose. the tech kept coming in. restful is not an adjective that comes to mind. at 6am, david came in and said, "well, i saw that you were awake, so i figured i'd come in and just wrap things up." i appreciated it...he was very nice, although he seemed a little inured to people's potential difficulty with the whole process.

***

our dream lives are our own, and sleepers always walk with imaginary friends. if an observer is present, they are at a distance, and their gaze usually doesn't fall on us for long. our partners in sleep may occasionally watch us fidget or snore or sigh, but only because they lie beside us, becuase we've chosen to let them near our world of sleep. they certainly couldn't tell from the living room if our eyes were open, or if our heart rate was elevated, or if we were clenching our teeth.

when undergoing the test, the sense of being watched (on more than one level) made me feel like a central part of my human experience was stripped away. the attachments to my body were a bridge between a sacred, selfish world and the one outside. my thoughts were still my own, but their usually silent echoes were now audible to someone other than myself. for those few hours of restlessness, someone looked through the best window into the soul that modern medicine can provide.

ultimately, if the whole experience helps me to overcome my issues with sleep, it will have been worth it. but if the experiment fails, if they didn't get enough data to make an assessment, will i go back again?

perhaps the somnogram could tell me...

Posted by docrpm on 06.21.05 at 8:27 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

June 14, 2005

book reading results

file under: my life

for the record, during my trip to palm springs, i read 'incompleteness' and one or two old articles from the new york times that i brought with me. based on my previous entry regarding reading for this trip, it's left to the reader to spot the irony.

Posted by docrpm on 06.14.05 at 10:08 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)

June 9, 2005

Cesar

file under: my life

Nuit avec mes amis (et jimi, la salope)

Posted by docrpm on 06.09.05 at 10:38 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

June 1, 2005

one hundred years

file under: my life

One hundred thousand miles, one hundred mph. Turned over three miles north of kamm ave. on i5

Posted by docrpm on 06.01.05 at 10:49 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

May 24, 2005

Triple

file under: my life

At the clift hotel, late

Posted by docrpm on 05.24.05 at 12:52 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

May 9, 2005

Globe martini

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 05.09.05 at 7:33 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

May 7, 2005

Dinner with jeff

file under: my life

Can you find the replicant?

Posted by docrpm on 05.07.05 at 10:43 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

May 6, 2005

Sunset

file under: my life

Sometimes things dont look real.

Posted by docrpm on 05.06.05 at 7:41 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

April 28, 2005

Hemlock

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 04.28.05 at 11:41 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

April 27, 2005

Alcove

file under: my life

Sometimes you find nice things in bars.

Posted by docrpm on 04.27.05 at 7:18 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Look up

file under: my life

I tend to forget . . . Someone has to clean those windows.

Posted by docrpm on 04.27.05 at 8:48 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

April 20, 2005

Lifeblog post

file under: my life

Testing testing . . .this blog post has been brought to you by rPm's Nokia 7610 and Lifeblog.

Posted by docrpm on 04.20.05 at 4:16 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

March 27, 2005

happy easter!

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 03.27.05 at 1:50 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

February 24, 2005

the hours, they slip away

file under: my life

the internet and the computers that feed from it are many things, but they are one thing above all else: temporal vampires. they suck time like a pornstar.

it evaporates. you blink, and two hours have passed. maybe three. maybe five. sometimes that time was well spent. other times, not.

we pay a price for technology. use it wisely and you benefit. use it poorly, and you're sucked dry.

Posted by docrpm on 02.24.05 at 1:46 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

February 14, 2005

v-day

file under: my life

Posted by docrpm on 02.14.05 at 12:49 PM | Comments (3)

December 22, 2004

10 things i forget (part I)

file under: my life , thoughts about things

in no particular order:

1. what day of the week it is
2. whether or not i've watered the plants
3. people's names
4. people's names (it's so bad that i'll count this one twice)
5. going back and buying newlyweds gifts after their wedding if i have no time to buy the gift before the wedding
6. canceling those stupid free-for-30-day phone solicitor offers that i accept just to get them off the phone without seeming rude
7. how long it takes to christmas shop
8. to read lists that i create for myself so that i don't forget things (thus rendering the process of list creation meaningless)
9. to turn the heat off when i leave the house
10. to live every day of life as if it is my last

there are definitely more, although i can't remember what they are right now...

Posted by docrpm on 12.22.04 at 11:45 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

September 28, 2004

(un)reality TV, part 27

file under: my life

reality tv, meet laguna beach high school (my alma mater).

i don't want to talk about it. if you want something that perfectly captures my raging, depthless hatred of reality TV, i suggest you read tom bissell's americans are all simulations in The Believer.

Posted by docrpm on 09.28.04 at 11:05 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

September 3, 2004

groundhog day

file under: my life

i feel like a groundhog coming up for air after a long winter – only it's summer, and i don't have fur.

Posted by docrpm on 09.03.04 at 9:38 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

June 11, 2004

about elaine

file under: my life

my girlfriend elaine is a special person...on some level she knows it, but there are many days when she forgets. i try to tell her, but then sometimes i forget, too. it's the little things that remind me...

today, as i was struggling out of paradise (aka 'bed'), she was leaving for work, bustling about the house as usual. at this time of day, she often tells me things that i need to remember for the day, or mentions something or other. it's usually a blur for me - i was not engineered for morning. and so, words spoken and bag packed, she went off to work with a [kiss].

time passed. i sat at my desk, working in my pajamas until the lunch hour arrived and my stomach reminded me to take a break.

in preparation for making my lunch (mmm....day old tuna salad), i pulled out the stuff from the frig and drawer: "let's see - bread, mayo, avocado, roma, lettuce, mustard, knife with which to spread...done. time to toast the bread." as i reached into the bag of bread, i realized there were two slices left. under normal circumstances, these slices would be slightly different: one would be a nice, symmetric slice of bread with two sides, and the other would be the heel of the loaf, that one-sided misfit that many of us really aren't interested in eating.

this time was different.

the last two slices of bread were the same. two perfectly two-sided pieces of bread, ideal for my toasted tuna sandwich. it was then that i remembered elaine telling me she had eaten the heel of the bread for breakfast (because she knows i'm not a fan). i had forgotten completely in my morning haze, and then it came rushing back to me when i got ready to make my toast.

it's such a small thing, but life revolves around small things. my orbits around the sun are so much brighter because of elaine...

Posted by docrpm on 06.11.04 at 12:59 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack (0)

May 25, 2004

for my friend dianna rawleigh

file under: my life

my friend dianna rawleigh passed into memory on May 14, 2004. cancer ended her life decades before it should have ended.

she and i worked side by side for a few years, and i got to know her a little (as well as anyone does at work, i suppose). few people are lucky enough to meet someone like dianna, let alone befriend them. and now i'm left struggling to regain my memories of her, because that's all i have left.

i suspect dianna would be angry if i wrote something too sentimental, too sad, too anything. i suspect she would want me to do what the irish do at a wake - celebrate life, not mourn death. that's what she was best at - celebrating life.

a few of my perceptions:

• she wore her salt-and-orange dreadlocks like a crown, a rave queen full of strength and charisma and charm and spirit
• she was filled with passions and followed them through (art, dance, activism, design, spirituality)
• she was a funny, vibrant woman who never, ever took herself too seriously, and often helped others to see what a wise thing that is
• she always took the time to step outside of herself and engage with others and their lives and passions
• she was a little shy sometimes, not liking to draw attention to herself, which made her that much more endearing
• she was a wonderful, connected human

was was was.

she is now only memory, and the world will miss her.

Posted by docrpm on 05.25.04 at 12:21 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

April 9, 2004

get out your summer parka!

file under: my life

summer arrived in san francisco a couple of days ago. it's still a little early, by chronological accounts, but i realized the cold truth last night when we walked home after dinner, and i had fourth-degree frostbite after sauntering two blocks.

the fog rolls over twin peaks like a soggy blanket, and it becomes progressively harder to drag oneself out of bed. the sun is a mere shadow of its former self; i was getting a tan (such as it is) in the backyard just a few weeks ago, and now i'd probably die of exposure.

it never ceases to amaze me. it happens every year. i tell myself that mark twain was right; summer is colder than either spring or fall here (and probably winter, for that matter). and yet, there's still a part of me, perhaps the long-forgotten southern californian, that thinks, 'hey! it's summer! kowabunga, dude! let's hit the beach.' [ok...even when i lived in SoCal, i never said the k-word]

and so we go to the liberty cafe, and we eat veggie pot pie, drink hot tea, and wait impatiently for indian summer...only 5 more months! tiem to pull out all of those remainders....

ps: for any readers in chicago or other places that are actually cold, i realize quite clearly that i'm whinging unnecessarily. call it me 'getting in touch with my inner californian.' we don't have much else to complain about...oh wait. i forgot about arnold. and traffic. and the really, really insulting price of both real estate and gasoline here.

Posted by docrpm on 04.09.04 at 11:12 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

March 14, 2004

future impossible

file under: my life , thoughts about things

i went to a friend's place in berkeley today for an impromptu BBQ, an opportunity to enjoy the sun.

before elaine and i arrived, i thought to myself, i've known this guy for 19 years. 19 years. when i was a kid, 19 years was an age to which you aspired, not a period of memory or acquaintance or anything else. and then i remembered how we met...

he and i were in the same math class our freshman year in college (math 4, uc berkeley, 1985). we also shared the same section. he was the weird guy who sat in the corner with a backpack that had bands like 'bauhaus' and 'sisters of mercy' scrawled across the blue canvas with liquid paper.

i was thinking tonight, imagine if he and i had been pulled aside one day and told, "look...in 19 years, you two will be sitting on the deck of a multimillion dollar home in berkeley owned by you (Mr. X). one of you will be a partner at a respected management consulting firm with 3 kids, the other will be a freelance internet consultant with a PhD in condensed matter physics." we would have laughed. possibly hysterically. and yet that's how life worked out.

anything can happen. it's all a mystery. we're driving down a road at night, and our headlights are only showing us part of the road, even though we might think or wish it were otherwise.

Posted by docrpm on 03.14.04 at 12:50 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

January 15, 2004

shameless plug

file under: my life

i recently collaborated with my friend Katherine Aoki on a Flash project...the goal of the project was to look at issues surrounding technology and personal privacy, using a combination of art and storytelling. the result can be seen within the Alternative Museum web site (look for "six degrees of personal privacy" in the left column).

if we had had lots more time, it would have been more animated, more interactive, and more, well, flashy (ahem). the usual excuses apply (namely, having full-time jobs outside of this work...). anyway, we were both pretty happy with how it turned out, since our goal was to share some of our ideas and concerns about recent social, political, and technological events.

Posted by docrpm on 01.15.04 at 9:49 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

November 4, 2003

after after after

file under: my life

forces both malevolent and benign have kept me from writing lately. my hiatus is coming to a merciful end, which hopefully means i will begin putting digits to keyboard again.

...

i kept telling myself, "after i'm done with this thing, i'll start writing again...". as with many best intentions, this one was swept aside by a combination of busy-ness, laziness, technology, and the general chaos of life in the big city.

in no particular order:

• i moved.
• i moved in with my girlfriend.
• i moved in with my lovely and understanding girlfriend, thus ending 15 years of solo habitation.
• i started a new contract job with Yahoo (please ignore any previous posts regarding certain resolutions related to contract work v. full-time jobs, etc. - they were clearly written by a delusional impostor)
• i completed two side art projects, wherein i was pretending to be artistic while my creative friends sort of dragged me along patiently (URLs and film credits to follow at some undisclosed juncture).
• i lived on bread, gruel, and 56K dial-up for 32 days while earthlink did its earthlink thing, SBC did its SBC thing, and i learned how to re-wire the telephone system in a house
• i completed a small business Web site for a friend of mine (URL will remain in the private domain for now)
• i embarked on another small business web site project, despite my brain telling me it was unwise to do so, given all previous bullet points
• did i mention i moved?

we now return to our regularly scheduled programming...thank you for your patience during this brief interruption in service.

Posted by docrpm on 11.04.03 at 6:30 PM

September 15, 2003

jerkyll and hyde

file under: my life

sometimes i am a jerk. what can i say - it has always come naturally to me.

my jerk-dom takes many forms, and while i have tried over the years to minimize the appearances it makes, it still bulges out between the seams of my personality occasionally.

last night it made an unwelcome house call during a discussion with Elaine about some short stories i'm writing (i'm still learning how to internalize constructive criticism). today, it reared its ugly head when she and i were weighing various moving options (although, in my defense, i will say that moving is as stressful for me as, say, flying standby from SFO to JFK on Thanksgiving weekend).

i have no excuse for my lame behavioral ticks. sometimes i'm just really mystified at my own behavior. life's really too short, after all, to be wasting time with such nonsense.

Posted by docrpm on 09.15.03 at 11:03 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack (0)

September 11, 2003

every day...

file under: my life

almost every american alive knows what happened two years ago today. each generation seems to have this moment, the one where we can say, "i remember where i was when i heard..."

each has probably thought of those events and their effect, both on our lives and on the lives of others. these reminiscences and the emotions they inspire are intensely personal; i would never presume to guess how others experience their grief or anger or sadness or hope. my memories still bring acrid, angry tears if i decide to let them come.

in memoriam to those who died, in the towers, in the air, and in the belief that what they were doing was somehow the right thing, i present a list...a list of eleven of my everyday things, because what happens every day is what probably matters most in the end.

...

• every day i forget to remember all the things i shouldn't forget
• every day i listen to the thrilling and boring symphony of the everyday; the same symphony is never played twice
• every day i walk past people whose lives are a mystery to me
• every day i love Elaine and my friends and my family, imperfectly
• every day i worry about tiny things - my stock portfolio, what i should wear to work, whether people notice my belly
• every day i breathe the same air that you have breathed
• every day i marvel at the six degrees of separation between us
• every day i wonder when we will wake up and stop killing each other in the name of righteousness or money or land or something equally stupid and meaningless in the end goddamn it
• every day i eat the stuff of stars
• every day i am one day closer to death
• every day i walk this planet with all of you is a precious gift, one that i treat as if it's just another day

NOTE: this entry was inspired by an hour-long "sonic tribute" to those lost on 9/11 (aired on NPR).

Posted by docrpm on 09.11.03 at 9:26 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

August 15, 2003

deja interview

file under: my life

interviews possess a sameness about them, even though each is different. yesterday's four-hour stint at Yahoo! was no different.

...

ACT I: THE SETUP
before the interview even begins, it begins - getting dressed, finding directions, getting your gear together, getting out the door, getting there. it's all a prelude that helps build dramatic tension.

first, there is the question of what to wear. is this a suit interview, or a jeans interview? or is it an interview at a dotcom that's growing up, where you'd look dumb in a suit, but feel a bit too 'dotcom hipster' if you wear jeans and your giant robot t-shirt? i traveled the middle road - i wouldn't want to work at a company where i had to wear a suit, and jeans make it seem like you're just not taking this seriously enough.

next step - directions. quite easy these days...mapquest or the company web site will usually do it. no stress there.

finally comes the process of gathering your interview paraphernalia:

• notebook (composition book, spiral notebook, post-it notes - whatever works)
• pens (or other writing implements)
• notebook transportation device (aka briefcase or backpack or yakpak or timbuktu bike messenger bag)
• book (to stem the tide of boredom when you wind up sitting in the interview room, all by yourself, bathed in that warm fluorescent glow)
• directions (Mapquest, from the mouth of your streaky inkjet printer, of course)
• contact info for the person you're going to see (forgetting your contact's name is NOT an option)
• food, water, and general life support (if necessary - often helpful if driving, for when you're stuck in soul-destroying traffic coming home)
• wallet and appropriate funds

with all of your gear collected, and running just a few minutes later than expected, you then rush to your chosen mode of transport and begin the journey.

NOTE: if driving, murphy's law clearly dictates that you will have to get gas before you go. if taking public transportation, you will just miss the train or bus or subway. be prepared.

ACT II: THE WAITING ROOM
once you've arrived, hopefully a little early, you will have the pleasure of speaking with the receptionist briefly. he or she will sign you in, verifying that you are a real person who is allowed to be on the premises, and will then ask that you be seated while your contact is contacted. in my case, i was given a nifty printed name tag. the receptionist inadvertently tore the corner off my tag when removing it from the little name-tag printing machine, so not only did i have to bear the indignity of revealing my name and VISITOR status, but i had to advertise with a torn name tag (imagine being named Bob, and your tag says "Hi, my name's BO [tear]").

with the sign-in and visitor name tag business out of the way, one then has the pleasure of sitting in the lobby, often alone with the receptionist. lobby chairs always seem uncomfortable, which, when combined with other things, leads to fidgeting (which makes you look nervous - poor interview form, clearly). pacing is also not good form, although you could pretend to be studying the lobby art with intense interest.

minutes stretch into hours, and fiinally your contact arrives. you wipe your hands on your pants or dress or skirt unobtrusively (preparing for the non-sweaty-palm handshake), introduce yourself while trying not to trip over your own name, look your contact in the eye and smile (warmly, but not too warmly), shake hands, then proceed into the abyss.

ACT III: THE PERP WALK
on your way to the interview chamber, you exchange pleasantries with your contact, usually about the traffic coming down or how much you like the office layout or the beautiful, deep blue of the low-pile industrial office carpet. they are invariably polite, and offer you a beverage of your choosing (the breadth of choice depends strongly on the company...at Yahoo!, the world was my oyster...coffee, tea, soda, filtered water, or perhaps even an espresso with a little lemon twist). choose your beverage wisely, because it will determine how quickly you need to urinate once the interview starts.

walking through the office, you try to gain some sense of what it might be like to work here. do people have family photos up in their cubicles? are there cubicles? are the people old enough to have families? what about fluorescent lights, obnoxious ventilation systems, or strange smells? all of these things are useful information for future reference (should you need it). sometimes you're given the full tour, in which case this assessment becomes easier (this usually happens at places where the place itself is considered an important asset of the company). if the office is just an office, you usually just go straight to the interview room - cut to the chase, so to speak.

the interview room itself is again a function of the company, but i find they are often small, windowless rooms similar in spirit to police interrogation cells. there will be a table with chairs, of course, and maybe a white board or other visual display accoutrements. in my case, the chairs had purple cushions with yellow piping, reflecting the Yahoo! brand quite admirably, and there was a computer in the corner with a live internet connection (broadband, of course). my room had a window, but only into the hall, which had the added benefit of making the interview room into a tiny, carpeted fishbowl.

you take a seat, and the interview begins...unless it doesn't, and your interviewers are running a little late, and you wind up having to sit in that little room, possibly by yourself, trying again to decide whether to sit or stand, pace or fidget, read or just adopt the thousand-yard stare. (it's a little bit like being in a doctor's office after you've been escorted to the examination room...do you sit on that virgin expanse of crinkly paper, or not?)

ACT IV: THE INTERVIEW
and so now it really begins. the parade of interviewers comes and goes, and you talk and listen and talk and talk and listen. you talk about yourself, and your thoughts and feelings and deepest desires (from a work perspective, of course). maybe you try to make a joke here or there.

interview questions are always interesting. this is one place where interviews can become run-of-the-mill, terrifying, and possibly even fun. some people pull out the old, worn interview playbook, and ask the questions that everyone has been asked at one time or another: how would you describe your strengths and weaknesses? what will you bring to this company if we hire you? if you were a small forest animal, what would you be?

the whole class of questions related to your history and experience and specifics skills - these tend to be pretty straightforward.

then there are the open-ended questions, the queries where you either take it and run or sit there making small burbling noises like a pre-vocal infant. i got a lot of these yesterday, and found myself talking and talking and talking. i'm reminded of a description i heard about president warren g. harding's speeches; someone said they were like huge armies of words, crossing a vast landscape desperately in search of an idea. at the time, i felt coherent, but in the murk of recollection, i have become somewhat self-conscious.

in some interviews, you actually find an intellectual connection with your interviewer, and suddenly that divide between you shrinks and it no longer seems like an interview. it evolves into an interesting discussion. this has happened to me, and it makes the interview process so wonderful...my dear friend andrew lynch, when interviewing me for my last "real" job, went to the effort to make this intellectual connection with me. (thank you, andrew!)

finally, sometimes, the interview turns to plain old conversation - wonderful, simple conversation. no agendas, no probing questions, no rambling discourses filled with business jargon...just people talking. i love it when this happens.

ACT V: THE AFTERMATH
and just like that, it's over. you're escorted out by your contact, and you make your way home. sometimes, they say they'll be in touch, sometimes they don't. and so you wander back to your car or train or bus, and maybe begin to replay the interview in your head. or perhaps, if you're wise, you just let it go, smile, and wait to see what happens.

a few final words...
i make interviews out to be terrible; they're not, in general. so much about them is funny; they expose social rituals, business oddities, and ways that we deal with insecurities. part of the issue for me is that i overanalyze my own behavior, and interviews provide a great deal of fodder for this kind of brutal self-examination.

it can be just as hard for the interviewer as the interviewee. how do you handle interviews with people whom you quickly discover are not qualified? how do you make things interesting? how do you deal with the fact that interviews are often a nuisance, a distraction during the course of your busy day? how do you ask the same questions and cover the same things without seeming bored or disinterested? how do you make a human connection?

that's what interviews are, after all...a part of creating human connections. they're doorways we have to negotiate (or guard) in order to extend and enrich our social networks.

but that doesn't mean we should take them so seriously... :-)

Posted by docrpm on 08.15.03 at 11:28 AM

August 8, 2003

two-byte gigolo

file under: my life

this week was witness to events which i will refer to as 'the last straw'.

i'm not going to enter into the postal workers' hall of multiple-homicide fame, or do my own rendition of falling down. instead, i'm going to quietly leave the world of freelance Web consulting with a whimper, not a bang.

why, you ask? because i'm tired of being treated like a two-byte gigolo, doing web tricks on the corner.

...

"hey baby, need somebody to build that web site? my javascript will blow -- you -- away."

"looking for PHP/MySQL love? maybe some hardcore DHTML? i'll do it ALL."

"i'm so desperate to build out my portfolio, i'll let you scr*w me for free!"

these are the kinds of things i imagine myself saying as i peddle my digital wares on the virtual street - i've been doing it for the last 18 months. (note: i'm not trying to say my situation is as bad as a woman or man who has to sell their body on a street corner to live - it's not).

i'm not alone. hordes of displaced, talented web designers and developers (and others from the dot.com diaspora) are being forced to play the freelance game because companies and agencies are unable (or unwilling) to hire them full-time. desperation settles in after awhile and breeds the street corner mentality, regardless of the goods being sold - IA, design, technical development, gardening, dog walking - you name it.

the freelance corner has its upsides: freedom, good money (when people aren't trying to treat you like a cheap 'ho), and working in your jammies. the downsides are pretty obvious: acting like an expensive 'ho and then settling for less, freedom to be unemployed ad infinitum, and working in your stinky jammies (ew...hit the showers, buddy).

so what was the last straw?

this week, i was discussing a potential job with a marketing agency doing work for a BIG client. the job was going to be tough, and could easily turn into the digital version of the Bataan death march if not handled properly. after finally agreeing to do the work in principle, i quoted what i thought was a fair rate. the person to whom i was speaking chuckled uncomfortably, and said,

"gee...uhhh...we were hoping for something a little lower than that. we're working with a serious budget envelope here."

he then proceeded to quote me a rate that was almost 40% less than what the graphic designers were being paid on the project (i had insider information before i quoted my rate). in other words, i was just a leader of code monkeys, and my part of the project was where they were going to cut corners.

it was at this point that i felt like a two-byte gigolo, because i started negotiating my price and telling this person how valuable i would be to the project ('i give really good team meetings and am completely dedicated to making the client happy!').

they wound up offering me a few dollars more an hour, but i declined, and then spent the rest of the day feeling like (a) i had stood up for what i believed in, (b) i was totally deluding myself into thinking i was worth more than what he offered me, and (c) i was becoming a digital commodity.

so i'm going to look for full-time work.

and whenever someone dangles alluring contract work in front of me, i'm going to plug my ears and close my eyes and chant over and over and over - 'i need health insurance...i need health insurance...i need health insurance.'

Posted by docrpm on 08.08.03 at 6:30 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)

June 26, 2003

cranky hot pants

file under: my life

we're having a heat wave, san-francisco style - it's been hot here for a record-shattering two days, and the fog has actually been vanquished to its rightful place over the ocean. i'm sure we're incurring bad weather karma here, and will pay at some point, but i'm enjoying it. it's nice to go out without the security blanket of three extra layers (you know, just in case the temperature drops by 45 degrees within 12 seconds of sunset).

apparently, though, this heat comes with another price...

...

in the past day, i've had two people muse aloud about potential heat-related crime increases in san francisco. these musings were both accompanied by overt or implied references to a spike lee movie i have not seen, wherein characters experience the heat-induced crankiness of brooklyn gangstas and housewives. or something.

anyway, my point is that heat seems to make a lot of people cranky. while i'm not unsympathetic to people's malaise, i don't get the whole crime thing.

does heat really drive people over that lawless edge? or is it just a convenient excuse for poseur felons who need an excuse? after all, what self-respecting lawbreaker would resort to saying 'i was really hot and sweaty, your honor, and i just couldn't take it anymore...i had to mug that old lady.'

what about the cold? is there is corresponding increase in crime when it gets really cold? maybe there's just an increase in criminal feelings, because it's too damn cold to actually go outside and act on them.

it reminds me of statistics that are often quoted regarding the general increase in crime when there's a full moon. many people used to say this had to do with lycanthropy or related lunar myths blah blah blah, when in fact, cops have said it just happens because perps can see what they want to steal, break, or hurt more easily...

maybe the whole heat thing is the same. it's all just a big lie. heat-related crime is all about people breaking into rich folks air-conditioned houses. they don't want the stuff - they just want to chill out for awhile.

so just remember, if it's over 80 degrees during the day, make sure to lock your doors at night, especially if you've got air conditioning. the bad guys can hear those AC units whirring and groaning outside your house - they know you're cool in there...

Posted by docrpm on 06.26.03 at 5:52 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

May 28, 2003

in summary

file under: my life

i don't want to go to work tomorrow.

that about sums it up. it will just be another day of client complaints and technology gaffes beyond my control and general internet mayhem, and i'd just as soon not be a part of it all, thank you very much.

i think i'd rather enter a completely improbable, yet convenient, star-trek temporal anomaly and jump to thursday, where i will be on the road...on my way to a four-day vacation with dad and bike and lots of nothing, if that's what i want (and i do).

unfortunately, we don't live in the 24th century, and i have to finish this web site about pimple goo. how utterly realistic.

reality can be such a harsh mistress....

Posted by docrpm on 05.28.03 at 1:42 AM | Comments (1)

February 27, 2003

some days suck

file under: my life

i should have known it was gonna be one of those days when news of mr. rogers' death was the first thing to come spilling out of my bedside clock radio.

...

it just went downhill from there, one molehill piled on top of another, until it seemed like leaving work early was a good idea. here's the quick run-down:

• mr. rogers passes away from cancer, erasing any lingering illusions that the nicest people, those who fill the world with good things, are subject to the grim reaper just like the rest of us.
• i almost got broadsided by a bus driving to work (my bad - didn't notice the lack of a stop sign for said motorized coach).
• the guy at the parking garage set off my car alarm when he tried to park the car (still not quite sure how he did that, but...).
• i looked at the web site i'm developing in Netscape 4.77, and witnessed the worst cross-browser catastrophe in all my years as a web developer. this led to the immediate realization that i might have to rewrite all of the code i've so meticulously developed over the past three weeks, which in turn led to a brisk walk around the block, followed by several hours of teeth-gnashing.
• i had no other work to do while stewing over the aforementioned browser catastrophe.
• in the downtime, i tried to teach one of my co-developers about JavaScript basics, and failed miserably, which made both of us feel pretty foul.

i should note that all of the office-related events occurred in a malodorous atmosphere smelling of dog urine and industrial-strength floor cleaner. (the office dog, while terribly endearing, is not yet housebroken, and the best efforts of the cleaning man aside, the smells were strong enough to make your eyes water).

by the end of the workday, the browser catastrophe had been downgraded from a red alert to a mere yellow concern, but this was a pyrrhic victory...the day had already been stained, and the best one could do was leave the office quietly, tail firmly ensconced between legs, and hope for a better day tomorrow.

Posted by docrpm on 02.27.03 at 5:58 PM | Comments (3)

November 27, 2002

the best gifts...

file under: my life

...are the ones you don't expect.

they come out of the blue, like pennies from heaven. sometimes they're big, but often they're small, maybe so small that their importance doesn't rise above the daily noise of existence (sleep, work, eat, work, repeat). i often forget to take off the headphones and listen for those small treasures, and even more often i forget to give them. after today, i will think twice, perhaps even thrice...

...

i got a letter today, hidden amidst the junk mail and bills, a bright orange envelope addressed in a human hand. clearly something worth reading (although the latest credit card offer was tempting, i must say).

my friend john lewis dropped me a thanksgiving card. along with friendly greetings, he thanked me for throwing some web development work his way, and included a gift certificate to 'tokyo a-go-go,' a local sushi joint. i was speechless (a rare occurrence, as evidenced by my blatherings here).

i don't speak with him often, and see him even less after we both got laid off (i used to be his 'boss,' of sorts, back in the new economy day). and yet, here was this wonderful card. a hundred words and free sushi...probably the best gift i could get to start the holiday season.

it didn't even seem like a big deal to me, sending work his way. a friend asked me if i knew anyone who could do XYZ with PHP, i thought of john, and the rest is history. just doing my part to help fellow unemployed friends, you know? and yet, to him, it was a big enough deal to think of me around thanksgiving, and to actually go to the trouble of doing something about it. it made me smile deeply.

recommending him for the work was pretty easy. the credit for this exchange goes to him - actively recognizing the kindness of others (using our outside voices, as it were) is a great skill. i'm not sure about everyone else, but a lot of times, i just forget to do it.

so, thanks john, and overdue thanks to all of the rest of you out there who've done cool things for me and not expected anything in return. goodness knows you've often gotten what you expected from me (i.e., zip, nada, and zilch). tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, i hope i can remember today, and then thank people often for the great, small things they do to make my life pretty damn cool.

Posted by docrpm on 11.27.02 at 12:34 AM | Comments (0)

November 11, 2002

sound bites

file under: my life

try to encapsulate your entire professional career into a 30-second sound bite. you're about to give a pitch to a multi-billion-dollar company, and the entire deal could hinge on it. make sure you get all of that relevant experience in there (just to demonstrate that you can add value), and maybe throw in a joke so you don't sound like a piece of talking luggage.

readyyyyyyy.......GO!

(what, you're not done yet?)

Posted by docrpm on 11.11.02 at 11:07 PM | Comments (2)

August 22, 2002

terror in the classroom

file under: my life

you would think that after about 50 years in lower and higher education, a classroom would be as comfortable to me as a pair of well-worn slippers. tonight i attended a creative writing class at the Community College of San Francisco (CCSF), and found that engineering school did not completely inoculate me against stage fright.

i've been talking (and talking and talking) about my desire to be a writer. it's a broken record i play regularly with some measure of self-loathing, mad at myself for never having really tried. so, when i had lunch with bernie today and he told me about this creative writing class in our neighborhood, i figured i'd give it a whirl. put my money where my mouth is. if not now, when?

this was a clear case of nice, clean logic that flies in the face of muddy reality...

...

CCSF has a 'campus' at a high school about 5 blocks from my apartment; they hijack rooms from the school once darkness falls, apparently. maybe it shouldn't be so surprising that, in a society which so clearly values teaching, the community college system is reduced to educational vampirism to survive. at any rate, i walked up there with greg (friend of bernie) to attend the first class i've been to in almost ten years- it was hard to tell whether the noise in my stomach was bees of excitement or butterflies of anxiety.

i think the bees and the butterflies had made a mutual non-agression pact, because there were measures of both in my nether regions. i was excited about the prospect of pursuing my dream of writing, and simultaneously scared that, put to the test, i would fail. after all, writing these blogs is easy - i don't have to read them to a class or a discerning teacher, exposing myself to public ridicule. the bar is generally pretty low on the Web (not to disparage my readership, but people don't expect Hemingway here), and there's a certain comfort in detachment.

the thought of reading my work to a class full of strangers, people armed with incisive witticisms and rotten tomatoes, made me feel seasick. i'm not entirely averse to criticism, but i'm not sure i am ready for a truly public forum. with this blog, it's different - most of my readers are people whom i know. the potential for embarrassment is pretty minimal, assuming i avoid overly personal and sensitive topics (you know, flatulence, sex, conspiratorial gossip - those sorts of things).

i think i could get over all of that, though. on some level, i just don't feel totally committed to doing it yet. i feel like i have to crawl in private for awhile before i do it in public. i also have some distractions over the next month or so that will force me to miss a few classes (blatant rationalization, but true nonetheless). i don't want to waste anyone else's time if i'm not fully engaged.

it will happen - someday; me trying to write something more than these blogs, that is. it may just not happen in the classroom for awhile...hey, i can always read a few books about it in the meantime, right?

Posted by docrpm on 08.22.02 at 9:38 PM | Comments (2)

August 21, 2002

blah blah blah

file under: my life

paranoia is beginning to set in. i'm beginning to think that my social skills are degrading into near uselessness, that i talk too much and too eagerly when i spend time with friends, and that they are launching a plot to have my mouth surgically sealed to prevent further air pollution.

...

i'm normally not self-conscious about these things, but lately, for some reason...

maybe i'm becoming a shut-in. i do, after all, meet several of the criteria (spends more than 80% of the time at home, breaks out in sweat when thinking of outdoors, buys crunchy snack foods in bulk at costco...). as a consequence, my social skills get about as much exercise as artwork.

i can't figure out whether it's worse to be paranoid about this, or to actually be socially challenged. the thing is, i think my friends are probably too nice to say anything. most people probably are. it's just terribly hard to find a polite way to say, "i'm sorry - could you please stop flapping your gums? i think i'm about to have a boredom-induced seizure."

given that people aren't going to say anything, i guess i'll just do my best to forget about it, aiming for that un-self-conscious ideal. i'm reminded of one of my favorite quotes:

"you wouldn't worry so much what people thought about you if you realized just how little they actually do..."

Posted by docrpm on 08.21.02 at 6:32 PM | Comments (1)

August 8, 2002

being jean-luc picard

file under: my life

a few of my close friends (okay, maybe just two), have said the hollywood figure i remind them of is jean-luc picard. when they told me this, i took it as the highest compliment, because i can only dream of having the same wisdom, wit, and composure. [for those of you not familiar with jean-luc picard, he's the captain of the USS Enterprise on 'Star Trek: The Next Generation'. there - i've just provided another data point that confirms i am a geek.]

tonight i watched 'X-Men' while eating my bowl of home-made green tofu curry (ok, i had popcorn, too). of course, patrick stewart (who plays jean-luc picard) is one of the main characters in X-Men, and his role is similar to the one he played in TNG - mentor, teacher, leader, role model.

each of us has (or had) people like this in our lives (hopefully, at least). they don't take cash payments to make a difference - usually, they do it because it's who they are, it's what they want to do. most of the time, they're probably unsung heroes, not hollywood heroes or sports superbeings - just regular folks - your friends, your parents, your lovers, your teachers, your colleagues. i've never really ackowledged these people in my life, and i want to do it now, for no particular reason, in no particular order, and with little explanation. (if you don't see your name below and you know me, best to assume that my forgetfulness got the best of me...)

• mom and dad (progenitors, fonts of wisdom, funding sources)
• elaine hsieh (long-standing significant other)
• mike kovalenko and family, kevin green and family, martha brant, chris mitchell, curtis fong, joe kress, betty lin, bill halloran, robert keil, polly grewal, tad palmer and family, trevor davis and family, pam leong, eric fredricksen and tracy, roberto de leon, jerry beltran, dianne west, laura hollingsworth, john dorgan, susan bogy, james badro, sebastien merkel, lisa ingenieri, kellie walsh, jim and jocelyn warren, james hopkins and marni, dada bacudo, andy and melinda roosen, sharon glotzer, lynette cains, nick armstrong and tania perry, claire evans, steve and allison langer, john harris, jason and laurie turner, anthony yell, ryan hoguet, steven sassaman, andrew lynch, travis culwell, jenny mclean, gene lee, alan yost and debbie, linda yeo, carl and feyna oman, chris jones, connie harvey, ramon colcer, ryan freitas, alder yarrow, ylva wickberg, aidan bunting, heather and clem odonnell, hideki kimata, aoi matsumoto, fumiko ikeshiro, naoko fujino, and on and on and on (good friends)
• karol kunysz, barbara carson, gary shapiro (high-school teachers extraordinaire)
• didier de fontaine (grad school advisor)
• ben burton and judy devaney (post-doctoral advisors)
• chris and whitnie wolverton, mark asta and theresa forni, vidvuds ozolins and alice heele, gerd and ineke ceder, dave teter, jeff hoyt and tracy spallina, john rodriguez, craig and marty carter, dane morgan, mark kraitchmann (grad-school cronies)
• professors jeanloz, gronsky, falicov, haller, theodorou, hanson, morris, vollhardt, strovink, wu, and others (all uc berkeley deities)
• the whole site-dev gang at sapient (especially kevin g, erin k, pascal and betsey g)
• many many many others who have taught me things, helped me laugh, helped me enjoy life

thanks for everything, in case i never said it before, or didn't say it enough, and in case you ever read this...all of you have made a difference in my life.

Posted by docrpm on 08.08.02 at 11:59 PM | Comments (3)

July 11, 2002

the test dream

file under: my life

the dream world can simultaneously be a great and terrible place. it's a place with no limitations, where anything can happen, and it often does. sometimes you're a majestic eagle, flying through fantastic lands. other times, you're the kid who wet his pants at school, and you have to walk around like that all day...

dreams come in many varieties, but perhaps one familiar to most people is the recurring dream. i suppose it's possible to have more than one recurring dream - maybe a whole stable of them that run through your mind like wild horses. i, on the other hand, seem to have only one recurring dream - the test dream.

i had it again this morning. it's always the same, although with slight variations. the teacher may be different, or maybe it's college instead of high school. i've had it with chemistry, math and french as the subjects of anxiety. the core, though, is repeated to a perfect T.

the test dream
the day of the final exam has arrived. i have forgotten to study. in fact, in all likelihood, i've forgotten that i even had the class. suddenly, there it is - the final - and i've come out of my amnesiac state to realize that i've been totally delinquent in my student duties ('holy sheepsh*t, batman! the final is today!'). i've got three hours (maybe four) to make it happen - learn a whole semester or figure out how to fake it. enjoy.

today's exam
this morning, it was with Mr. Reich, my high school biology teacher. he was good, smart, but man could he scare the bejesus out of kids. i'll never forget the story he told about doing autopsies on decomposing bodies, and the tricks they used to quench the stench...but i digress.

the exam was organic chemistry or biology or some mixture of the two. as always, i realized very late that i had the exam. did i study? no. everyone was in another room taking the exam, but i was sitting alone in a separate room. people started filing in after finishing the exam, but i still hadn't started. i looked to my friend (Chris Mitchell, with whom i went to high school) and i asked him, 'if there were three things that i absolutely had to know from this semester, what would they be?' how the heck do you answer that question? chris did ok...i don't remember if i even took the test. the dream is not about taking the test. it's about the terror of being unprepared, of shirking responsibility, of not knowing. which leads me to my next point...

deep Jungian analysis
ok...maybe not. i'm not a trained Jungian analyst (or Freudian, for that matter). i know enough not to interpret my dreams literally. i think they're some mixture of post-processed life events, insecurities, fears, fantasies, and neurochemical noise. the recurring dream probably draws more substantially from the 'fears and insecurities' end of things; that seems pretty clear. but why this one dream in particular? i mean, couldn't my brain come up with a more significant neurosis to obsess over? so i spent a lot of my life in school - what's it to you, brain? why can't you dream about vacations in belize instead?

bring on your dreams
anybody want to share their recurring dreams (no analysis required)? you know what to do - click that 'comment' link at the bottom of this entry. use a bogus name and email if you need to. ;-)

Posted by docrpm on 07.11.02 at 11:08 PM | Comments (0)

June 11, 2002

(un)remarkable

file under: my life

Chris Mitchell, a long-time friend of mine from Laguna Beach, recently perused my noodlings here. it seems my writing and snapshots got some gears moving in his spirit (forward-moving, pleasant gears, as it were). he made some very kind remarks, and then went on to suggest that i lead a remarkable life. i was so flattered that i didn't know what to say.

not only did i not know what to say, i wasn't sure if i agreed with him entirely. at the risk of sounding disingenuous, my life often seems pretty pedestrian to me, although i do enjoy it quite nicely.

i have good times with good friends, am lucky enough to have a loving girlfriend whom i love, do work that i often like, and occasionally take a little adventure here or there. i'm also gaining a bit in waist circumference, have hair that feels the pull of gravity and greyness, occasionally feel my work is meaningless and boring, and often have no idea what i'm really doing. in other words, there's some good and some bad, some peaks and valleys - a landscape that i imagine is similar to the lives of many others.

but maybe i'm not really seeing things clearly...maybe a veil of subjectivity has clouded my vision.

inside my fishbowl, i swim through familiar moss-covered castles, over cobalt blue rocks, and i have fine fishy friends that pass through. every once in a while, i visit another tank or see one from a distance, and it seems so much more inviting than my own, so different. sometimes i'll see divers, or bigger castles, or even sunken Spanish galleons full of treasure, and my pathetic bowl seems so pallid and boring in comparison.

but then someone outside my tank tells me how wonderful my castle looks, or how interesting those moss formations are, and that i should feel lucky - and i realize that i should, and i do. i lead a remarkable life - i think we all do, in our own ways.

now if only i could get that dang moss off the inside of my tank, i could see fred's new plastic octopus...

Posted by docrpm on 06.11.02 at 12:12 AM | Comments (0)

May 21, 2002

banging on stuff

file under: my life

last week i had the distinct pleasure of seeing the Stanford Taiko drumming team in action. for ninety minutes, elaine and i were both swept away as they danced, grunted, and beat their drums, both small and large. one might not necessarily think that drumming could remain captivating for that long, but it did. those beats tapped into a primal rhythm center, opened some neural floodgates, and started a pulsing mind-meld in the theater.

it got me to thinking about why i enjoyed this sort of thing, and maybe, more generally, why people do...

i am neither a musicologist nor a cultural anthropologist, but i suspect that the earliest form of instrumental music involved banging on stuff. it doesn't take a terribly evolved brain to pick up a stick and bash it against the nearest tree or log. the resulting thwack reaffirms your presence to the rest of the world and connects you to it through the chain of mind, body, action, sound, and sensation.

a little experimentation would show that just about anything bashed against anything else would yield similar, but subtly different, results. a thick stick against a sturdy tree might summon the tribe, whereas a tiny twig tap-tap-tapped on your favorite rock would amuse only you. pretty soon, your buddies are picking stuff up and giving it a go themselves, and the next thing you know rhythm (or the most reasonable facsimile possible, given the state of smelly, hairy apes at the time) is born.

this is all pretty simple-minded reasoning, and totally ignores the other (survival-oriented) uses for objects cracked against things. i don't want to go too far down this evolutionary tributary of inquiry, but what's the point of banging on stuff? more precisely, why do we find the sounds produced pleasing, stimulating, or both? i mean, if we didn't, the whole drum-n-bass genre really would have fallen flat, wouldn't it?

nature has its own rhythms, but it seems that humans took it one step further by creating patterns and structure in beats - we created something not found in nature. it's something that sets us apart, a distinct evolutionary advantage. survive and procreate - anything that makes this more possible is good.

speaking of sex, the whole rhythm thing seems to tie in with the sexual drum we often beat (so to speak). after all, it's pretty easy to tie the old in-out-in-out to somebody outside beating sticks on drums around a fire...

maybe it isn't so tough to understand after all. rhythm, syncopation, beats - they provide an easy way to share a non-verbal experience with others, to stimulate the body and senses in ways not possible via unadulterated mother nature. it brings us together, and not just because of the sexual resonance - because the sounds of ten drums are usually more interesting than the sounds of the lone drummer. unless, of course, you're talking about mickey hart on the space drums - that's toooootally different, man.

Posted by docrpm on 05.21.02 at 11:14 PM | Comments (0)

March 6, 2002

upwards and sideways

file under: my life

i wasn't really going to write about the fact that the layoff grim reaper finally caught up with me last week. it's a reality that a lot of other people have faced, and under more challenging circumstances, so i've got no business complaining. it is a little harder to digest than i thought it would be, though.

sadness and loss, coupled with a lot of unexpected relief, are there, but the real issue for me is direction (or the lack thereof). up until a week ago, work provided a one-way road through life, with pretty good signage. weekends and occasional evenings allowed for convenience-store stops and exciting detours, but the path from point A to point B was always pretty clear. for me, being laid off is like being drugged against your will, then dropped in a foreign country without a map. you find a wad of welcome cash in your pocket, and the locals assure you that a good time can be had, although things can get a little sketchy in some places. enjoy.

i had conveniently forgotten that life comes without maps - no "lonely planet for the unemployed" or "fodor's dot.com wasteland". so now, i'm trying to get the lay of the land, and feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all. there is a seemingly endless array of lazy rest stops, some good camping spots, a few beaches, and a lot of terra incognita. time to become friends with ambiguity and start down the road.

if you happen to find a map of terra incognita, could you send it my way? i'll be checking my email pretty regularly.

Posted by docrpm on 03.06.02 at 7:19 PM | Comments (0)

December 2, 2001

hot chocolate

file under: my life

as Jason and I sat at the cafe in the Marais, stuffing ourselves with bread, food and (real) hot chocolate, clouds of smoke billowing around us, we both commented that (a) the French know how to do hot chocolate right, and (b) we are lucky bastards. not only were we lucky enough to experience hot chocolate that doesn't involve processed powdered mixes, but we were lucky enough to do it in Paris. it's too easy to forget that few people get to have these kind of simple experiences, ones outside of their own cultural cubby holes.

we walked around the Marais for the afternoon, and then floated back to the apartment where i was staying. the fugue of jet lag had descended on us, and sleep was unavoidable. he went back to his hotel, i passed out where i was, incapable of moving. i woke up in the evening to the sounds of screaming. not good screaming - bad screaming. the kind of screaming that makes you think of calling the police. after listening for a few seconds, i realized it wasn't murderous rage, 'just' a domestic disturbance. a father yelling at his wife and children, things being thrown and broken, children screaming in confused protest at the actions of the people who are supposed to love and protect them and their world. after a pleasant afternoon and a nap, this was not the best way to wake up. i imagined the absurd - myself walking downstairs, knocking on the door, and asking politely if everything was all right; city dwellers don't do this. it made me remember the time a woman was murdered in a courtyard within full sight of her neighbors, screaming for help; no one did anything, even though it went on for something like 10 minutes. we don't like to get involved, we don't want to intrude on the messiness of other people's lives. our own lives are messy enough.

there was no way i could go back to sleep to the soothing backdrop of domestic violence, so i took a walk through the Marais, down to the Ile St. Louis, over towards Notre Dame, and back up. the bone-chilling northern european winter air was seeping into my soul, but it still felt good to walk, to experience this place. the whole domestic disturbance had rattled my cage. i felt odd about the fact that so many of us lead lives of relative happiness, filled with cafes, friends, hot chocolate, and only a smattering of comparatively minor problems (where should i work? what will i do next in my life? do i like my shoes?); at the same time, in the apartments beneath us or the houses next door, people may be leading out desperate, angry, discontent lives. all of this goes on around us all the time; sometimes we see it, sometimes we don't.

if big cities are places where people go to be alone together, as T.S. Eliot thought, maybe they are also places we go to commune with the collective joy and sadness of others. even though the mix may not include hot chocolate all the time, it's the way of things. life is full spectrum.

Posted by docrpm on 12.02.01 at 1:32 AM | Comments (0)

November 21, 2001

off the hamster wheel

file under: my life

thanksgiving has arrived. the first big holiday of the season. i suppose this could be good or bad, depending on your perspective. personally, i am always a bit underwhelmed by the holidays; the commercialism at christmas is enough to make any self-respecting capitalist puke. however, thanksgiving is my favorite (modulo any associations with white male oppressors celebrating after they've conquered the local brown folks etc etc etc).

i worked from home (no quotation marks) today, and ran out of gas at the end of the afternoon. i decided to take a nap, even though i had more work to do. the hamster wheel never stops spinning, as long as you stay on. i jumped off, but it seems i've gotten a bit nauseous as a result. we work so hard sometimes that we don't even realize it. it becomes the normal state of affairs. to you, with all of the work piling up, you're standing still, whereas to an observer in a stationary reference frame outside of the hamster wheel, you've collapsed into a ball of focused white lightening, buzzing and spinning.

and so i'll try to stay off the wheel for a few days, to enjoy the company of friends, and to relish the ritual of a shared meal to celebrate everything we have to celebrate. and we have a lot to celebrate, the madness of the outside world notwithstanding. my best wishes for a wonderful day to anyone reading my noodlings about hamsters and physics (probably only ryan and ryan at this point...).

Posted by docrpm on 11.21.01 at 8:21 PM | Comments (0)