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Thursday, June 12th, 2003
Scott Martens wrote a fine post last night laying bare the inputs and parameters of his life; and inspired me to do likewise. I've had a vague, gnawing feeling of dissatisfaction [all my life and particularly] these past few months and I think I'd like to make a stab at figuring out where it's coming from. Three questions are principally interesting to me here, viz.: "Where am I?"; "How did I get Here?"; "What do I Think About It?" I know the answers to all of these im ganzen und großen, particularly the first two but the third also; however I have not yet formulated these answers word by word. I think that doing so will give me insight that is not available while the answers are bouncing around my head. I believe the most natural order to answer them in is the order in which I've asked them here, and will do so in this post and two more. Note however, the questions all deal with similar subject matter so there will likely be some overlap between what I am saying in these three entries; I am not going to interfere unduly with the natural order of my thoughts to satisfy strictures of the rubric I have asserted. Happy reading! And drop me a line to let me know what you think about it. So, My Circumstances I live in South Orange, New Jersey (USA, North America, Earth, Solar System, Galaxy, Universe, Mind of God), in a lovely old Victorian house, with my wife Ellen and daughter Sylvia. I am thirty-three; Ellen is older than me and Sylvia is younger. Our dog Lola is an 8-year-old Shih-tzu who has been with us through four residences. Sylvia, 2 1/2, has been with us for only two. (This house is however the third place she has lived; the first year of her life was spent at the Shanghai Children's Welfare Institute.) I commute to Manhattan, where I work for Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce (CIBC), writing code to support a statistical arbitrage trading strategy. My "daily grind" consists of: Catch NJTransit train at 6:35. The station is just across the street from my house, about 2 minutes from walking out the door to being on the platform. Sometimes I will take the 6:50 train instead. Ride to Hoboken. Catch the PATH train at 7:05 or, mutatis mutandis, 7:20, and ride to 33rd Street. My office is at 43rd and Lexington; if the weather is nice I will walk, otherwise take my third and fourth trains of the day, the "F" and the #7. I like to buy a cup of coffee from Oren's Daily Roast in Grand Central Station (brewed coffee that is — I have never been very partial to pressed). Depending on a number of variables I arrive at the office sometime between 7:40 and 8:10. Work lasts until around 4:45 — sometimes later but rarely later than 5. Occasionally I leave at 4:30. Reverse the commute and I am generally back home at 6:00, where I have dinner, spend some time with Sylvia, and put her to bed. So that is how I spend the great majority of my waking time. Things I like to do with the remainder are, work on my house and yard, build furniture, and play rural blues guitar. The work on house and yard is in some sense an outgrowth of my interest in woodworking — I mean to say, woodworking has gotten me interested in using tools and fixing things, which extends nicely to the duties of home ownership ("duties" read expansively, I guess). I am since January the secretary of the Central Jersey Woodworkers' Association, the first club in which I have participated actively since college. (I realize as I write that that I was active in the Long Island Woodworkers' Club when we lived in Queens; but not to anything like the same degree. And before that, nothing since back to college.) I have some friends in town; through Sylvia, I know the parents of many of her coevals, and get along with just about all of them. Just tonight, I had a nice conversation with her friend Natalie's father Norman, whom I had not met before. And through my neighbor Jim, I know several disreputable types, old hippies, from the area. Some of us (Jim, Bob, Janis, Doug and I) get together on Saturdays to play non-purist blues, the genre my former guitar teacher described as "folk and dead". — All of us play guitar except for Doug, who plays bass; Janis often plays banjo or bass; Jim occasionally plays violin or bass and I occasionally play concertina or violin. And what else? I like food, pretty enthusiastic about it, tending especially towards barbecue these days, and good beer... That pretty much describes it. I would like to say something about my workout regimen; but alas, anything I said in that regard would be a lie.
posted evening of June 12th, 2003: 4 responses
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Here it is: a table of html escape codes! Update: here is an even better table.
posted afternoon of June 12th, 2003: Respond
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Sylvia's last day of school is today, which is generating some grief for her -- we have not been able adequately to convince her that she will be going back there in a few weeks for summer camp. Today she and Ellen came upstairs to wake me up (I'm sleeping upstairs while Ellen has a cold), and we chatted about the day to come. I said, "Will you be going to school today?" and she thought it over for a minute before answering with a question: "Tomorrow?" "No, tomorrow's Friday, you don't go to school on Friday." This provoked an extended outburst, she was crying and repeating "Tomorrow, school tomorrow"... Ellen and I talked to her about how she would have a short vacation and then go back, but I'm not sure how much of it sank in. I like how she is using "tomorrow" now. It is the first sign I have really seen (or at least, understood) of her thinking about the future. Ellen bought some supplies for her birthday party (not for a few more months, but there was a big sale on Clifford paraphenalia) and now she points to the Clifford piñata and says we will play with it tomorrow.
posted morning of June 12th, 2003: Respond
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More Chandler on the train this morning -- his prose is so comfortable, reading it feels like swimming in a warm pool. The funny Hollywood idiom sounds totally natural in Marlowe's narration. (And I have no idea whether anyone ever actually talked that way!)
posted morning of June 12th, 2003: Respond
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Wednesday, June 11th, 2003
I'm reading Raymond Chandler's The Little Sister now and loving it -- I had forgotten how much fun his prose is.
posted afternoon of June 11th, 2003: Respond
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Tuesday, June 10th, 2003
I am troubled by the sense that I am waiting for something to happen.
posted evening of June 10th, 2003: Respond
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I originally posted this as a comment to a good post of Dr. Quiggin's regarding the ethical value of striving to acquire goods. It is something I'm meaning to flesh out more fully in the future. This is sort of related to the Protestant Work Ethic (PWE hereafter). Mark Kleiman has a very good post up criticizing an article in the NY Times magazine last week, which pointed to the decline of the PWE as the reason for Europe's impending collapse. The article seemed like bollocks to me but I am not an economist so what do I know. The only justification I can see for the consumerist "getting and spending" impulse which is under discussion in this thread is, it elevates demand for goods and services, so makes the economy grow faster than it otherwise would, or at all. I don't know if capitalism would work sans acquisitivity over and above people's basic needs -- well looking that sentence over I guess I can say I'm pretty sure it would not; but the lack of acquisitivity could be on a sort of sliding scale; what I mean to say is I don't have any clear idea how far down that scale you can go before capitalism either stops working or becomes something radically different. Anyways: it sounds like Dr. Quiggin's problem with the "getting and spending" is that it encourages the wrong sort of economic expansion. (Correct me if I'm putting words in your mouth, sir, this is what I took away from your post but that could be transference since it was already about what I thought.) I believe this impulse -- in its present manifestation -- is wrapped up historically with the development of the PWE. Update: Tom Runnacles offers further insight. And, Update: I think this article and question may have played a big part in generating the thoughts I am having now about effort vs. ease.
posted evening of June 10th, 2003: Respond
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Sunday, June 8th, 2003
I want to tell a story about the work I did today on the shoe rack I had previously built -- and think I should make clear beforehand what I have in mind, so that I don't bog down in details. My basic points here are, that I succeeded in the task I took on largely through dumb luck; and that I ought, when I noticed that my initial design would not be an adequate solution, more thoroughly to have investigated the alternatives available. The problem was, I wanted to bolt my shoe rack to the wall, since it is tippy and hard to avoid jostling against. However there is an obstacle at floor level which prevents the rack from backing up hard against the wall. Initially I thought this obstacle was the saddle in the door to the left of the rack, and my plan was to cut a square out of the back of the left leg so that it would go around the saddle. But when I took the rack away from the wall, I noticed that there was also a baseboard, which started about where the saddle left off, on the right side of the rack. My immediate thought was, I'll just cut a similar square out of the back of the right leg; I took the rack downstairs and got ready to do it. But I noticed when I was laying out the cuts, the baseboard is too high; it will butt up against the bottom rail of the rack and keep it from going flush with the wall. More quick thinking; I decided to cut a mortise out of the back of the rail, to fit the baseboard. This is where I think I goofed; if I had been thinking more clearly, I would have just taken the baseboard off the wall. As it was, I made the mortise -- it took only about an hour -- and it is testament to the solidity of my joinery that the rack was able to take all that force without racking or breaking. But it is not an ideal solution -- the rack is now permanently wed to its current location, among other hassles.
posted evening of June 8th, 2003: Respond
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Saturday, June 7th, 2003
10 years! Ellen and I have been married 10 years now. Last night to celebrate, we went out for dinner at Artisanal, in Murray Hill, with Ellen's brother and sister-in-law; Ellen's parents babysat Sylvia and joined us for dessert. Ellen and I arrived early for martinis and escargots. Nice! Mixed strong enough for Ellen to lose her cool; and the olives were very pungent, stuffed with a little tidbit of pecorino cheese. Be sure to get the escargots, they are wonderful. We took Robert Sietsema's advice and skipped the main course. We started with two fondues, Stilton with Sauterne and the fondue of the day, which was some brie-like cheese with apricot chutney; the Stilton in particular rocks. We drank Willm Gwertztraminer, which complimented the cheese very nicely. Then some gougeres and mussels, some of the best mussels I can remember eating. Be sure to get some bread with the mussels so that none of the delicious sauce goes to waste. For dessert we had chocolate fondue (served with marshmallows, cookies and fruit) and a cheese plate, goat cheese, istara, and aged gouda. Sylvia (who had joined us along with grandma and grandpa) just about went apeshit at the idea of a big pot of chocolate that you could dip things in. (Me too!) Of the cheeses, I would strongly recommend the goat cheese, and weakly the istara. The gouda was not my thing. The goat cheese was amazing, about halfway in both texture and flavor between sour cream and cotton candy.
posted afternoon of June 7th, 2003: Respond
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Saturday, May 31st, 2003
We had all Ellen's cousins over today for a barbecue, and everyone had a good time. The rain held off just long enough for us to have lunch outside -- it was drizzling a bit while I worked the grill, and we all sat on the porch -- and then started pouring, which it still is doing. I just now looked at the rain gutters and noticed that I need to clear out some debris, especially from the one in back of the house. I will do that tomorrow morning.
posted evening of May 31st, 2003: Respond
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