In my previous blog I made my recommendations for the state-wide propositions. Here I address the local San Diego Props and also the race for Governor and the US Senate seat.
Local Props:
Prop A, Allow open bidding for local construction projects: This is a hard one to take a stand on. The contention is that by opening up government infrastructure projects to all contractors, the cost will come down. The opposition contends that part of the cost reduction comes from the lifting of several requirements such as health care, job training, etc. I can't really decide who the good guys are, but I am going with the benefits of increased competition. Vote YES.
Prop B, Add a good cause requirement for firing Deputy DAs: Hard to argue with this one, except that it may saddle a newly elected DA with some stubborn relic from the past administration. Still, I recommend a YES vote.
Prop C, Remove the I-56/I-5 interchange requirement for Pacific Highlands Ranch: On the surface, this seems to a largely local measure - 12 years ago, Prop M authorized this development under the condition that its completion be coincident with that of the I-56/I-5 interchange (56W to 5N & 5S to 56E), which is currently not scheduled for at least 2020. This stalls a number of neighborhood improvements in this development. Sounds unfair, especially since the developer is going to cover all the costs, but me thinks that they knew this when they put Prop M on the ballot. Also, why take away any pressure to complete said interchange? I hate the current arrangement! So, I am going selfish on this one: Vote NO.
Prop D, Temporary (5 year) half cent increase in sales tax: All the bugaboos are being trotted out for this one: fire protection will disappear, there will no more police, etc, etc. But, it also has the support of the Chamber of Commerce! Its hard to argue that the city is losing money from the State, but could the city's finances be better managed? The tax increase is contingent on a long string of financial reforms and some of them sound pretty good. Maybe I am being suckered in, but I am recommending a YES vote.
OK, now for the anticlimax - my recommendations for Ca Governor and US Senate seat. For anyone who knows my politics, it will come as no surprise that I am recommending Jerry Brown over Meg Whittman and Barbara Boxer over Carly Fiorina. I'd like to think that my reasoning is not entirely partisan: In the case of Meg Whittman, it came down to my opinion that she is not going to be effective in Sacramento. The Ca Governor is subject to endless restrictions and navigating the minefield of a Democratic controlled legislature is likely to prove too much for a political ingenue. If not anything else, Brown knows Sacramento and can hardly be worse than the "Governator" has been. I am also tired of all these business types who want to run government like "a business." The government is not a business.
As for Fiorina, I have never been impressed by her abilities as an executive - she took over a revered and storied technology giant - HP - and almost ran it to the ground. She spent a ton of money on showy employee get togethers and alienated the engineering rank and file. Her personal rise may be inspiring, but I don't find any reason to assume that she would be any more effective in Washington than she was at HP.
As for the Tea Party and the national scene - well, that will need another post.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Elections Nov 2010 - The California Propositions
Interest in the upcoming midterm elections is high - at the national level, this is the first real test of the strength of the Tea Party movement, not to mention the depth of opposition to Obama and the Democratic Party. The situation looks dire for the ruling party and much doom and gloom is predicted. I'll reserve my thoughts on that topic for later and focus on the California state propositions in this one. I'll follow up with posts on the local props and of course the two interesting state-wide races: the ones for Governor and US Senator.
I am going to limit myself to a few comments, but almost every one of these are really worthy of a more detailed examination. Here are the props on the ballot this time around:
Prop 19 (Legalizing Marijuana): This is quite easily the most well known ballot measure this time around. If passed, it would legalize the possession of up to 1 ounce of marijuana for personal use. In 1972 a similar measure was defeated almost 2 to 1, but this time around polls suggest that it is likely to pass. The arguments in favor are predictable - savings from not having to catch, prosecute, and incarcerate large numbers of casual users, potential tax revenues from being able to impose taxes on marijuana sales, and even the possibility of putting a dent on the Mexican drug cartels. The opposition is somewhat surprising - most of them relate to potential loss of federal revenue because even if Prop 19 passes, marijuana will continue to be illegal under federal law. I find this rather weak and in any case, the experience with medical marijuana and indeed Portugal's experiment with legalizing drugs suggest that nothing disastrous would happen if Prop 19 passes and it is quite likely that some of the benefits will come to pass. I recommend a YES vote.
Prop 20 (Redistricting by a committee and not by the legislature): This is almost a no-brainer for me. Rampant gerrymandering has rendered most districts noncompetitive and this prop should go some way to fixing this problem. Vote YES.
Prop 21 ($18 vehicle tax to fund state parks): On the surface this sounds like a noble measure - at least for those who care about the vast network of Ca's state parks. But dig a bit deeper and it seems to be a cynical attempt to collect more revenue while playing upon the desire of Californians to keep their parks open. Vote NO.
Prop 22 (Limit the State's ability to dip into some local funds): Another seemingly well-meaning measure, but ultimately, misdirected. We want legislators to balance the budget, but we continue to tie their hands with such so called "ballot box budgeting." Vote NO.
Prop 23 (Suspend clean energy laws while unemployment is high): All you need to do is look at who is funding the "Yes" campaign - two big out of state oil companies. Vote NO.
Prop 24 (Eliminate 3 specific business tax breaks): This one seems rather arcane at first, but the potential amounts we are talking is high (a few billion). Then you realize that these were breaks that were promised to the businesses in exchange for some allowance they made and now some folks want to renege on that promise. The 'No' campaign is well funded by a host of well known Ca businesses including Qualcomm. I am going with big business on this one - a promise is a promise. Vote NO.
Prop 25 (Budget can be passed with a simple majority instead of 2/3rds majority): The 2010 budget was delayed by over 100 days. Enough said. Vote YES.
Prop 26 (Voter permission for new fees): Who is funding this measure? Almost exclusively alcohol and big tobacco! Also, another twist on the ballot box budgeting approach. Vote NO.
Prop 27 (Repeal Prop 11): Prop 11 established the committee that is the subject of Prop 20. This prop goes with Prop 20 in that only one of them can take effect. If both happen to pass, then the one with the higher majority will win. Easy choice, given my vote on Prop 20. Vote NO.
I am going to limit myself to a few comments, but almost every one of these are really worthy of a more detailed examination. Here are the props on the ballot this time around:
Prop 19 (Legalizing Marijuana): This is quite easily the most well known ballot measure this time around. If passed, it would legalize the possession of up to 1 ounce of marijuana for personal use. In 1972 a similar measure was defeated almost 2 to 1, but this time around polls suggest that it is likely to pass. The arguments in favor are predictable - savings from not having to catch, prosecute, and incarcerate large numbers of casual users, potential tax revenues from being able to impose taxes on marijuana sales, and even the possibility of putting a dent on the Mexican drug cartels. The opposition is somewhat surprising - most of them relate to potential loss of federal revenue because even if Prop 19 passes, marijuana will continue to be illegal under federal law. I find this rather weak and in any case, the experience with medical marijuana and indeed Portugal's experiment with legalizing drugs suggest that nothing disastrous would happen if Prop 19 passes and it is quite likely that some of the benefits will come to pass. I recommend a YES vote.
Prop 20 (Redistricting by a committee and not by the legislature): This is almost a no-brainer for me. Rampant gerrymandering has rendered most districts noncompetitive and this prop should go some way to fixing this problem. Vote YES.
Prop 21 ($18 vehicle tax to fund state parks): On the surface this sounds like a noble measure - at least for those who care about the vast network of Ca's state parks. But dig a bit deeper and it seems to be a cynical attempt to collect more revenue while playing upon the desire of Californians to keep their parks open. Vote NO.
Prop 22 (Limit the State's ability to dip into some local funds): Another seemingly well-meaning measure, but ultimately, misdirected. We want legislators to balance the budget, but we continue to tie their hands with such so called "ballot box budgeting." Vote NO.
Prop 23 (Suspend clean energy laws while unemployment is high): All you need to do is look at who is funding the "Yes" campaign - two big out of state oil companies. Vote NO.
Prop 24 (Eliminate 3 specific business tax breaks): This one seems rather arcane at first, but the potential amounts we are talking is high (a few billion). Then you realize that these were breaks that were promised to the businesses in exchange for some allowance they made and now some folks want to renege on that promise. The 'No' campaign is well funded by a host of well known Ca businesses including Qualcomm. I am going with big business on this one - a promise is a promise. Vote NO.
Prop 25 (Budget can be passed with a simple majority instead of 2/3rds majority): The 2010 budget was delayed by over 100 days. Enough said. Vote YES.
Prop 26 (Voter permission for new fees): Who is funding this measure? Almost exclusively alcohol and big tobacco! Also, another twist on the ballot box budgeting approach. Vote NO.
Prop 27 (Repeal Prop 11): Prop 11 established the committee that is the subject of Prop 20. This prop goes with Prop 20 in that only one of them can take effect. If both happen to pass, then the one with the higher majority will win. Easy choice, given my vote on Prop 20. Vote NO.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Padres Seek A Miracle
Spare a thought for the San Diego Padres this weekend - after leading the National League (NL) West Division for almost the entire season, they are 3 games behind the San Francisco Giants going into the final 3 games of the regular season. The good news is that the Padres will be playing the Giants in those 3 games, which means that if they sweep them, then the two teams will be tied for the division lead. The Atlanta Braves are most likely going to take the wild card spot, which means that if the Giants and the Padres are tied at the end of regular season they will have to play a 1-game playoff to decide the division winner.
It is somewhat poignant that the Padres find themselves in this difficult situation - this was a season that began with zero promise: Almost every baseball "expert" had picked the Padres to finish dead last in their division and indeed, 28th out of the 30 MLB teams. Baseball with its lack of a salary cap tends to favor the teams that spend the most - typically teams such as the Yankees and the Red Sox. The Yankees started the 2010 season with a payroll that was upwards of $250 million while the Padres had a payroll of just under $30 million (second lowest in the league). With their long regular season (each team plays 162 games over a 6-month period from April to Oct), top tier talent will usually win out and it is very difficult to for a low payroll team to sustain a lead for long periods of time. This is what made the Padres' dominance in the NL West so remarkable this year and indeed, for a period of time they owned the best record in all of MLB. And they did so with limited community support and pretty much the entire sporting world constantly forecasting their demise. Of course, stumble they did coming down the stretch and despite going beyond the most rosy predictions for the season, it still feels like a let down.
For a team with almost no superstars, it seemed like a different (previously unknown) hero would rise up each night to save the game. Now, the question is whether all the magic is spent or is there a little something left? We'll know soon since they need to win today, tomorrow, and on Sunday to keep their postseason hopes alive.
It is somewhat poignant that the Padres find themselves in this difficult situation - this was a season that began with zero promise: Almost every baseball "expert" had picked the Padres to finish dead last in their division and indeed, 28th out of the 30 MLB teams. Baseball with its lack of a salary cap tends to favor the teams that spend the most - typically teams such as the Yankees and the Red Sox. The Yankees started the 2010 season with a payroll that was upwards of $250 million while the Padres had a payroll of just under $30 million (second lowest in the league). With their long regular season (each team plays 162 games over a 6-month period from April to Oct), top tier talent will usually win out and it is very difficult to for a low payroll team to sustain a lead for long periods of time. This is what made the Padres' dominance in the NL West so remarkable this year and indeed, for a period of time they owned the best record in all of MLB. And they did so with limited community support and pretty much the entire sporting world constantly forecasting their demise. Of course, stumble they did coming down the stretch and despite going beyond the most rosy predictions for the season, it still feels like a let down.
For a team with almost no superstars, it seemed like a different (previously unknown) hero would rise up each night to save the game. Now, the question is whether all the magic is spent or is there a little something left? We'll know soon since they need to win today, tomorrow, and on Sunday to keep their postseason hopes alive.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Rite of Passage
"Not looking good." That was the thought that went through my head as we walked up to the Canyonside Park for Arjun's first ever Little League game. Surveying the kids playing there gave me the sinking feeling that Arjun was singularly under prepared. He had the wrong pants (the coach had said gray, but we had bought white and then substituted with an almost-gray track pant), he didn't have a helmet, and most importantly, he was clearly the only kid without a glove. He had reluctantly brought along his recently acquired T-ball bat, which looked rather pitiful compared to the kit bags that some other kids were toting. And we had no clue who the coach was.
Fighting my discomfort of such situations, I asked around and eventually found the coach. Pleasant fellow by the name of Matt. First thing I had to tell him was that Arjun has no glove and wondered if there was a spare one. None could be found immediately and Malini was almost heading to Target to buy one when another one of the parent coaches came by with a rather large one. Silly as it may sound, I didn't really know how to pull it on (a baseball fielder's glove is rather unique in that your hand only enters the lowest portion). Thankfully it was so big that Arjun was just able to put his hand into it. Then came the trickier part - catching with the glove. The kids were lined up in two groups and asked to throw to each other and sure enough, Arjun was having a hard time. He didn't know how to squeeze the ball and all he could try was to do a basket catch (essentially, you hold the glove face-up like a basket and hope that the ball lands inside and doesn't bounce out). Even this wasn't going too well and he got conked on his chin with a ball - no joke considering that they were playing with regular hard balls. However, it was soon obvious that most kids were pretty bad - even the well equipped ones - and I began to relax a bit. Still, I went up to Matt and told him that Arjun had never caught with a glove before. He was unfazed and said that he would spend some extra time with him.
Eventually all the practice time was over and it was time to play a real game. Coach announced the lineup and initial fielding positions (the kids would change during each inning) and Arjun seemed to be sidelined. And then it seemed like he was going to have really important position - catcher! The assistant coach started kitting him out with all the required padding and positioned him behind the hitter. Malini was uncertain what this move meant, but felt reassured that with all the padding he would at least be safe from the ball. The game started and Arjun's team (The Timber Rattlers) were fielding. Arjun was standing well behind the hitter, almost all the way to the back boards. There seemed to be no discernible purpose to having a catcher - all he did was to collect the passed balls and pile them up to be thrown back to the pitcher's mound. The whole outfit was a little constricting and severely hampered his mobility. Eventually, he got tired of standing and went into a crouch and looked a bit more like a regular catcher - not that he was doing any catching of course.
Then it was their turn to bat and they sent Arjun fourth or fifth. He was a bit tentative at first, but then all his baseball watching and playing with Abhi kicked in and he started making some good swings. Actually, to be accurate they were very good golf swings, but at his level it was just fine.
He made good contact on one, but only succeeded in popping it up to the one kid who could actually catch. Still not too shabby.
The next inning he was fielding at third base and clearly getting more into the swing of things. When his turn came up to bat in the bottom of the second (the entire team gets to bat in each inning), he got his first ever hit
and trotted happily to first base. And remarkably, this continued and he got a hit in every inning (going 4 for 5) and was rather decent in the field as well. Sure, he let the ball go through his legs when he was in right field (pretty much par for the course), but he also fielded a few balls cleanly and threw out a couple of runners. 
Turns out watching a bunch of really keen 6-8 year olds playing baseball rather badly is a pleasant and indeed mildly amusing way to spend a couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon. They are happy to make contact and chase behind the ball with abandon, but once they have the ball they often don't quite know what to do. It certainly helped that all the parents and coaches were really relaxed about the whole thing and were rather enjoying themselves as well. Abhi was a bit disappointed by the casual air and lack of professionalism - he commented to Malini that this was not like they play on TV. He had had high hopes - as we drove to the park, he asked, "Which stadium is Aeta going to play in?" No doubt expecting the answer to be something like Petco Park. Still he was excited to see Arjun play and as usual provided us with slow motion replays of what just happened on the field.
After the game I went up to the coach and inquired if we needed to get anything more than a glove. He was very complimentary of Arjun's efforts and commented that he couldn't believe that Arjun had never played before. Even without this my trepidation about Arjun's first little league game had long since eased - strangely, this had been at the back of mind ever since the ultrasound told us we were going to have a boy! But Arjun was a real gamer - he really wanted to play (he was the one who asked Malini to sign him up) and he didn't let anything bother him - the lack of equipment, being hit by balls, or being trussed up like a gladiator and asked to catch. Normally we have to drag him (sometimes kicking and screaming) for any extra curricular activities. This was clearly different. As he sleepily headed off to sleep, he said, "I can't wait for next Sunday so I can play baseball again."
Fighting my discomfort of such situations, I asked around and eventually found the coach. Pleasant fellow by the name of Matt. First thing I had to tell him was that Arjun has no glove and wondered if there was a spare one. None could be found immediately and Malini was almost heading to Target to buy one when another one of the parent coaches came by with a rather large one. Silly as it may sound, I didn't really know how to pull it on (a baseball fielder's glove is rather unique in that your hand only enters the lowest portion). Thankfully it was so big that Arjun was just able to put his hand into it. Then came the trickier part - catching with the glove. The kids were lined up in two groups and asked to throw to each other and sure enough, Arjun was having a hard time. He didn't know how to squeeze the ball and all he could try was to do a basket catch (essentially, you hold the glove face-up like a basket and hope that the ball lands inside and doesn't bounce out). Even this wasn't going too well and he got conked on his chin with a ball - no joke considering that they were playing with regular hard balls. However, it was soon obvious that most kids were pretty bad - even the well equipped ones - and I began to relax a bit. Still, I went up to Matt and told him that Arjun had never caught with a glove before. He was unfazed and said that he would spend some extra time with him.
Eventually all the practice time was over and it was time to play a real game. Coach announced the lineup and initial fielding positions (the kids would change during each inning) and Arjun seemed to be sidelined. And then it seemed like he was going to have really important position - catcher! The assistant coach started kitting him out with all the required padding and positioned him behind the hitter. Malini was uncertain what this move meant, but felt reassured that with all the padding he would at least be safe from the ball. The game started and Arjun's team (The Timber Rattlers) were fielding. Arjun was standing well behind the hitter, almost all the way to the back boards. There seemed to be no discernible purpose to having a catcher - all he did was to collect the passed balls and pile them up to be thrown back to the pitcher's mound. The whole outfit was a little constricting and severely hampered his mobility. Eventually, he got tired of standing and went into a crouch and looked a bit more like a regular catcher - not that he was doing any catching of course.
Then it was their turn to bat and they sent Arjun fourth or fifth. He was a bit tentative at first, but then all his baseball watching and playing with Abhi kicked in and he started making some good swings. Actually, to be accurate they were very good golf swings, but at his level it was just fine.
He made good contact on one, but only succeeded in popping it up to the one kid who could actually catch. Still not too shabby. The next inning he was fielding at third base and clearly getting more into the swing of things. When his turn came up to bat in the bottom of the second (the entire team gets to bat in each inning), he got his first ever hit
and trotted happily to first base. And remarkably, this continued and he got a hit in every inning (going 4 for 5) and was rather decent in the field as well. Sure, he let the ball go through his legs when he was in right field (pretty much par for the course), but he also fielded a few balls cleanly and threw out a couple of runners. 
Turns out watching a bunch of really keen 6-8 year olds playing baseball rather badly is a pleasant and indeed mildly amusing way to spend a couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon. They are happy to make contact and chase behind the ball with abandon, but once they have the ball they often don't quite know what to do. It certainly helped that all the parents and coaches were really relaxed about the whole thing and were rather enjoying themselves as well. Abhi was a bit disappointed by the casual air and lack of professionalism - he commented to Malini that this was not like they play on TV. He had had high hopes - as we drove to the park, he asked, "Which stadium is Aeta going to play in?" No doubt expecting the answer to be something like Petco Park. Still he was excited to see Arjun play and as usual provided us with slow motion replays of what just happened on the field.
After the game I went up to the coach and inquired if we needed to get anything more than a glove. He was very complimentary of Arjun's efforts and commented that he couldn't believe that Arjun had never played before. Even without this my trepidation about Arjun's first little league game had long since eased - strangely, this had been at the back of mind ever since the ultrasound told us we were going to have a boy! But Arjun was a real gamer - he really wanted to play (he was the one who asked Malini to sign him up) and he didn't let anything bother him - the lack of equipment, being hit by balls, or being trussed up like a gladiator and asked to catch. Normally we have to drag him (sometimes kicking and screaming) for any extra curricular activities. This was clearly different. As he sleepily headed off to sleep, he said, "I can't wait for next Sunday so I can play baseball again."
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
"Touching The Void"
Touching the Void is the story of a true life mountaineering adventure. In 1985, two young British climbers, Joe Simpson and Simon Yates made an attempt on the West face of the Siula Grande in the Peruvian Andes which was a route that had never been successfully climbed. The climb and the return journey have since become one of the most enduring tales of the mountaineering community.
The climb is challenging and dangerous, but they succeed in reaching the summit. However, as any mountaineer will tell you, reaching the summit is less than half the battle - most accidents and deaths happen on the way down. And it is no different for Simpson and Yates. Bad weather and poor planning has them in trouble right away, but disaster strikes when Simpson has a fall and breaks his right leg at the knee while they are still very high on the mountain. That is pretty much a death sentence and Simpson is almost resigned to it when they come up with a strategy of Yates lowering Simpson down the mountain in 300 foot sections. It is not easy, but they make progress until Simpson falls into a crevasse. Yates, who is sitting way above him on the mountain and supporting Simpson's weight has no way of telling what happened and eventually does the only thing he could practically do: cut the rope, causing Joe to fall further into the crevasse with no hope of climbing out with a broken leg and no food or water.
What follows is an astonishing tale of survival - both on the part of Simpson and Yates. It is also an examination of what really matters and the power of the mind over matter. Yates returned from the trip to a predictable storm of criticism over his decision to 'cut the rope' (and indeed, is still known as "The Guy Who Cut the Rope"), but Joe Simpson always defended him staunchly. He finally wrote this book in 1998, largely to defend his friend. The book is well written, but looking up mountaineering terms ahead of time (or keeping a dictionary handy) will make for easier reading.
Simpson and Yates returned to Peru in 2002 to film a documentary style recreation of their climb and far from being cathartic, Simpson had a terrible time during the filming and was later diagnosed to be suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) - 17 years after his harrowing journey. The movie version is also to be recommended - it glosses over a number of details as all movie versions do, but the impact is more visceral and seeing the mountains and crevasse and hearing Joe and Simon talk gives it a great deal of verisimilitude.
Compelling and engrossing though the story is, we must accept that it is at best an ersatz experience for the lay reader - by Simpson's own account, he could not find the words to express the utter desolation of those 4 days on the Siula Grande.
The climb is challenging and dangerous, but they succeed in reaching the summit. However, as any mountaineer will tell you, reaching the summit is less than half the battle - most accidents and deaths happen on the way down. And it is no different for Simpson and Yates. Bad weather and poor planning has them in trouble right away, but disaster strikes when Simpson has a fall and breaks his right leg at the knee while they are still very high on the mountain. That is pretty much a death sentence and Simpson is almost resigned to it when they come up with a strategy of Yates lowering Simpson down the mountain in 300 foot sections. It is not easy, but they make progress until Simpson falls into a crevasse. Yates, who is sitting way above him on the mountain and supporting Simpson's weight has no way of telling what happened and eventually does the only thing he could practically do: cut the rope, causing Joe to fall further into the crevasse with no hope of climbing out with a broken leg and no food or water.
What follows is an astonishing tale of survival - both on the part of Simpson and Yates. It is also an examination of what really matters and the power of the mind over matter. Yates returned from the trip to a predictable storm of criticism over his decision to 'cut the rope' (and indeed, is still known as "The Guy Who Cut the Rope"), but Joe Simpson always defended him staunchly. He finally wrote this book in 1998, largely to defend his friend. The book is well written, but looking up mountaineering terms ahead of time (or keeping a dictionary handy) will make for easier reading.
Simpson and Yates returned to Peru in 2002 to film a documentary style recreation of their climb and far from being cathartic, Simpson had a terrible time during the filming and was later diagnosed to be suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) - 17 years after his harrowing journey. The movie version is also to be recommended - it glosses over a number of details as all movie versions do, but the impact is more visceral and seeing the mountains and crevasse and hearing Joe and Simon talk gives it a great deal of verisimilitude.
Compelling and engrossing though the story is, we must accept that it is at best an ersatz experience for the lay reader - by Simpson's own account, he could not find the words to express the utter desolation of those 4 days on the Siula Grande.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Stieg Larsson & The Millenium Trilogy
They drink a lot of coffee in Sweden. Or at least that is the impression one is left with after reading the novels that make up the so-called 'Millenium Trilogy' by Stieg Larsson: "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo", "The Girl Who played with Fire", and "The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest." These books, translated from the Swedish, have been runaway bestsellers and a worldwide publishing phenomenon. The third book in the series was released in May 2010 and together with the first two trace the story of Lisabeth Salander (the 'Girl'), who is, to put it mildly, a somewhat unique heroine in contemporary fiction: she is antisocial, covered with tattoos, an extremely talented computer hacker, bisexual, slight of physical stature, but a skilled boxer, and with her own sense of morality. However, the underlying theme is her fight against the establishment that victimized her early in life under the pretext of national security. Playing the male protagonist is Mikael Blomkvist, a slightly left leaning investigative journalist. He is also the co-founder of the magazine "Millenium" from which the trilogy takes its name. Mikael's character is not quite as complex as Salander's, but is nonetheless multifaceted and far from being flat.
The first book ("Dragon Tattoo") finds Blomkvist trying to solve a decades old missing person mystery that he eventually does with the assistance of Salander. The next two books focus more on Salander and the gradual unraveling of the conspiracy against her.
The stories are well plotted and despite their length (they average over 550 pages each) the reader's interest rarely flags. Most books of this genre resort to a cheap manipulation of the reader: manufacturing cliff hangers merely by switching the context. Larsson does none of this and I found that I really enjoyed reaching the end of a chapter with some kind of crisis situation and then have the scene continue at the start of the next chapter.
The real life back story to this trilogy is almost as interesting as the books themselves. The Blomkvist character is clearly meant to be a stand-in for Larsson himself (Larsson was a left leaning journalist who started and ran Expo, a magazine similar to Millenium) and some friends of Larsson have even suggested that parts of the Salander character may also be inspired by the author's own self. All three books were published posthumously: Larsson died in 2004 from a heart attack and the manuscripts for the books were discovered after his death. There is speculation that he never intended the books for publication and that he wrote them simply for his own pleasure. This in itself make these books intriguing as examples of works that were unaffected by commercial considerations or by the supervision of an editor. Incidentally, these are the only three fiction books published by Larsson. Supposedly he left behind some more incomplete manuscripts and outlines, but much of that is the subject of much wrangling between his heirs and long time girlfriend. A side effect of the success of these books has been a renewed interest in foreign authors - publishers have been scouring the best seller lists of countries around the world in a bid to find the next Stieg Larsson.
As mentioned earlier, a lot of coffee is drunk by the characters in these books (it is a wonder any of them are able to sleep at all). There is also lots of detail about towns in Sweden and in particular lots of mention of place names and road names, most of which I could not pronounce. After a while, one tends to glaze over these names, but as might be expected you don't really lose much by doing so. Despite the translation, a sense of the place and people does come through - the echoes from the Wallander books or even Smilla's Sense of Snow are faintly evident.
All three books have been made into movies in Sweden and they have all received strong reviews. The first one has already has already made it to the US (in fact playing in San Diego now) and others should follow. Overall, an entertaining set of books that comes with a glimpse into a slice of Swedish society and life.
The first book ("Dragon Tattoo") finds Blomkvist trying to solve a decades old missing person mystery that he eventually does with the assistance of Salander. The next two books focus more on Salander and the gradual unraveling of the conspiracy against her.
The stories are well plotted and despite their length (they average over 550 pages each) the reader's interest rarely flags. Most books of this genre resort to a cheap manipulation of the reader: manufacturing cliff hangers merely by switching the context. Larsson does none of this and I found that I really enjoyed reaching the end of a chapter with some kind of crisis situation and then have the scene continue at the start of the next chapter.
The real life back story to this trilogy is almost as interesting as the books themselves. The Blomkvist character is clearly meant to be a stand-in for Larsson himself (Larsson was a left leaning journalist who started and ran Expo, a magazine similar to Millenium) and some friends of Larsson have even suggested that parts of the Salander character may also be inspired by the author's own self. All three books were published posthumously: Larsson died in 2004 from a heart attack and the manuscripts for the books were discovered after his death. There is speculation that he never intended the books for publication and that he wrote them simply for his own pleasure. This in itself make these books intriguing as examples of works that were unaffected by commercial considerations or by the supervision of an editor. Incidentally, these are the only three fiction books published by Larsson. Supposedly he left behind some more incomplete manuscripts and outlines, but much of that is the subject of much wrangling between his heirs and long time girlfriend. A side effect of the success of these books has been a renewed interest in foreign authors - publishers have been scouring the best seller lists of countries around the world in a bid to find the next Stieg Larsson.
As mentioned earlier, a lot of coffee is drunk by the characters in these books (it is a wonder any of them are able to sleep at all). There is also lots of detail about towns in Sweden and in particular lots of mention of place names and road names, most of which I could not pronounce. After a while, one tends to glaze over these names, but as might be expected you don't really lose much by doing so. Despite the translation, a sense of the place and people does come through - the echoes from the Wallander books or even Smilla's Sense of Snow are faintly evident.
All three books have been made into movies in Sweden and they have all received strong reviews. The first one has already has already made it to the US (in fact playing in San Diego now) and others should follow. Overall, an entertaining set of books that comes with a glimpse into a slice of Swedish society and life.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Cycling, Lance, Baseball, & Doping
The Tour de France (TDF) is arguably the most difficult endurance contest in the world and only five men have won it five times and only one - Lance Armstrong - has won it more than five times. His record tying fifth victory was in 2003 and questions and doubts swirled around the possibility of Armstrong becoming the first ever to win six (he would go on to win 7). Several of the previous 5-time winners had stumbled while trying to win one more. In Lance Armstrong's War, Daniel Coyle gives a superbly detailed account of Armstrong's 2004 campaign. The book was published in 2005, but I just read it - with the recently concluded 2010 TDF whetting my appetite for related stories. You don't just show up in July and try to ride in the tour - the preparation starts many months before and that is where Coyle starts as well. He is there for every training race, every experimental bike, and seemingly around every conversation that goes on between Armstrong and his team. Pro-cycling has more than its share of colorful characters and Coyle profiles a number of the key cyclists who had a legitimate chance of winning in 2004 - Jan Ullrich, Tyler Hamilton, and Iban Mayo among others. Making several cameo appearances is 'Juanita Cuervo' (aka Sheryl Crow), who Armstrong was dating at that time. Even though we know how the race ends, Coyle succeeds in building up the anticipation and his blow-by-blow account of key stages of the 2004 race is rather satisfying. The time elapsed since the race helps no doubt, although in my case that is moot since I had not followed the race very closely back in '04. Just as much as an account of the race, the book is an attempt to explain the enigma that is Lance Armstrong. He is not an easy person to know or get close to. With his emphatic victories and inspirational cancer survivor story, he is a sports icon without peer, certainly within the American landscape. He has many detractors of course and indeed there were even threats made on his life during the penultimate stage in 2004 and he had to be protected by armed guards during the actual race.
One question that has dogged Armstrong throughout is the accusation of cheating/doping - the use of performance enhancement drugs. Armstrong does have certain physiological advantages (Coyle explains the science behind his ability to operate at peak performance without going into the anaerobic zone longer than anybody else), but his dominating performances and take-no-prisoners attitude has spawned lots of doubters. The official record is that he has never tested positive, but that hasn't stopped the questions. And there is plenty of circumstantial evidence. The conventional wisdom about doping in pro-cycling is that everybody does it, so what is the big deal. Several of his accusers (among others, a massage therapist in his employ, his old mechanic, and Floyd Landis, his old teammate and the cyclist who was stripped of the 2006 TDF title after testing positive) have provided very detailed descriptions of how Armstrong apparently cheated over the years (none of which have been independently corroborated as of date). Although, Steven Levitt (of Freakonmics fame) has argued in a blog that the very specificity of the accusations is proof enough of their truthfulness. Freakonomics was persuasive, but this particular one argument does not wash with me - perhaps I am too much of a Lance Armstrong fan and don't really want to believe. The book is aptly titled: Everything is a 'war' for Lance Armstrong and it continues to this day - even as he was finishing off his last tour, investigations based on Landis' claims and others were just getting underway.
Coyle is clearly interested in being the objective reporter and his book comes across as neither a hatchet job nor hagiography. It is a fascinating glimpse, albeit fleeting, into a world that many of us will never get close to and I highly recommend it.
Doping was rampant in procycling in most of the 90s and the 2000s and the case was no different in another sport in which fair play and chivalry are held paramount - baseball. The rather surprising fact about pro-baseball is that many of the drugs that were banned in other sports were not actually illegal in baseball till very recently. During the last decade and a half the power numbers have been off the charts (basically the batters have been doing very well)and this surge crystallized in the single-season home run record chase of 1998 and culminated with Barry Bonds going past Hank Aaron's all-time home run record (755) - a record that was essentially considered unreachable just a few years ago. However, the home run kings of the last decade or so have mostly been discredited, almost to a man and even Congress has held hearings on this topic. All of this hue and cry may be having an effect: While the single season home run record is now 73 and the top hitters were routinely getting 40-50 homers, this year nobody even has 30 and there is less than a quarter of the season left. Ostensibly, a similar effect can be seen in the TDF - not a single rider tested positive in the last two years, but curiously performances have not really dropped. It is hard to believe that the tour has suddenly become clean, especially when winners of other major cycling races continue to test positive every so often.
Of course, doping is no longer limited to the realm of sports - it is becoming more common place for students to boost their academic performance by improving their focus and concentration by illegally using drugs typically prescribed for ADHD. Next surely, will be genetic engineering. Rather depressing to contemplate, to say the least. But then I wonder, how different are these "aids" from that of the more affluent parents resorting to private schools, extra coaching, and donations to further their child's academic careers?
One question that has dogged Armstrong throughout is the accusation of cheating/doping - the use of performance enhancement drugs. Armstrong does have certain physiological advantages (Coyle explains the science behind his ability to operate at peak performance without going into the anaerobic zone longer than anybody else), but his dominating performances and take-no-prisoners attitude has spawned lots of doubters. The official record is that he has never tested positive, but that hasn't stopped the questions. And there is plenty of circumstantial evidence. The conventional wisdom about doping in pro-cycling is that everybody does it, so what is the big deal. Several of his accusers (among others, a massage therapist in his employ, his old mechanic, and Floyd Landis, his old teammate and the cyclist who was stripped of the 2006 TDF title after testing positive) have provided very detailed descriptions of how Armstrong apparently cheated over the years (none of which have been independently corroborated as of date). Although, Steven Levitt (of Freakonmics fame) has argued in a blog that the very specificity of the accusations is proof enough of their truthfulness. Freakonomics was persuasive, but this particular one argument does not wash with me - perhaps I am too much of a Lance Armstrong fan and don't really want to believe. The book is aptly titled: Everything is a 'war' for Lance Armstrong and it continues to this day - even as he was finishing off his last tour, investigations based on Landis' claims and others were just getting underway.
Coyle is clearly interested in being the objective reporter and his book comes across as neither a hatchet job nor hagiography. It is a fascinating glimpse, albeit fleeting, into a world that many of us will never get close to and I highly recommend it.
Doping was rampant in procycling in most of the 90s and the 2000s and the case was no different in another sport in which fair play and chivalry are held paramount - baseball. The rather surprising fact about pro-baseball is that many of the drugs that were banned in other sports were not actually illegal in baseball till very recently. During the last decade and a half the power numbers have been off the charts (basically the batters have been doing very well)and this surge crystallized in the single-season home run record chase of 1998 and culminated with Barry Bonds going past Hank Aaron's all-time home run record (755) - a record that was essentially considered unreachable just a few years ago. However, the home run kings of the last decade or so have mostly been discredited, almost to a man and even Congress has held hearings on this topic. All of this hue and cry may be having an effect: While the single season home run record is now 73 and the top hitters were routinely getting 40-50 homers, this year nobody even has 30 and there is less than a quarter of the season left. Ostensibly, a similar effect can be seen in the TDF - not a single rider tested positive in the last two years, but curiously performances have not really dropped. It is hard to believe that the tour has suddenly become clean, especially when winners of other major cycling races continue to test positive every so often.
Of course, doping is no longer limited to the realm of sports - it is becoming more common place for students to boost their academic performance by improving their focus and concentration by illegally using drugs typically prescribed for ADHD. Next surely, will be genetic engineering. Rather depressing to contemplate, to say the least. But then I wonder, how different are these "aids" from that of the more affluent parents resorting to private schools, extra coaching, and donations to further their child's academic careers?
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Dream Layers
I swear I am not making this up. I don't have dreams that often (or at least ones that I can recall the next morning), but lately I have been having a few that seem to involve playing baseball, but with a random set of rules. And apparently this is after I had joined the army. As if this wasn't strange enough, last night really upped the ante.
It started off with the usual baseball-with-strange-rules (this is not that unexpected since the boys and I play a mini baseball game indoors on a regular basis). Then I am driving away from the game and the boys are with me and suddenly I realize that we had left Malini behind. So I whip the car around real fast and end up climbing the curb. As I speed away, I think I hit somebody. I stop and come back, but in the gathering dark, there is nobody to be seen. I am rather shaken as I make my way back to the field only to see Malini waiting, totally relaxed - like I had never left. And the boys are with her. I turn around and sure enough, the boys are not in the car. I realize with a start that the whole driving away had only been a dream. Malini and the boys climb in and we start driving away and all of sudden I don't recognize where I am - somewhere on the east coast, maybe? Oh no, this had been another dream! I am immediately aware that I have just experienced a dream-within-a-dream and start describing this to Malini and realize that she is no longer there. I feel a sense of discomfort (wanted to pee, no doubt) and open my eyes and now I am finally in familiar environs - in our bedroom with Malini curled up next to me. And it dawns on me that I had just experienced a third layer of dreaming. Fortunately that was the end - I fell back into a deep sleep and had almost forgotten about this until just now. What was striking was the strong feeling that I was popping up a 'level' each time I realized that I was in a dream. Maybe there is something to this Inception business? Or maybe, somebody wants me to believe in the premise of the movie and is trying to plant the idea in my head....?
It started off with the usual baseball-with-strange-rules (this is not that unexpected since the boys and I play a mini baseball game indoors on a regular basis). Then I am driving away from the game and the boys are with me and suddenly I realize that we had left Malini behind. So I whip the car around real fast and end up climbing the curb. As I speed away, I think I hit somebody. I stop and come back, but in the gathering dark, there is nobody to be seen. I am rather shaken as I make my way back to the field only to see Malini waiting, totally relaxed - like I had never left. And the boys are with her. I turn around and sure enough, the boys are not in the car. I realize with a start that the whole driving away had only been a dream. Malini and the boys climb in and we start driving away and all of sudden I don't recognize where I am - somewhere on the east coast, maybe? Oh no, this had been another dream! I am immediately aware that I have just experienced a dream-within-a-dream and start describing this to Malini and realize that she is no longer there. I feel a sense of discomfort (wanted to pee, no doubt) and open my eyes and now I am finally in familiar environs - in our bedroom with Malini curled up next to me. And it dawns on me that I had just experienced a third layer of dreaming. Fortunately that was the end - I fell back into a deep sleep and had almost forgotten about this until just now. What was striking was the strong feeling that I was popping up a 'level' each time I realized that I was in a dream. Maybe there is something to this Inception business? Or maybe, somebody wants me to believe in the premise of the movie and is trying to plant the idea in my head....?
Thursday, July 29, 2010
"Inception"
In Agatha Christie's Curtain: Poirot's Last Case, Christie's famed Belgian detective is on the trail of what he defines as the "perfect" murderer - one who doesn't actually commit the crime on their own, but instead makes other people commit murder by the instilling the idea into them via words and suggestions. 35 years after the publication of that novel, Christopher Nolan (of Memento and Batman Begins fame) has made a movie with essentially the same idea, but with a lot more technical mumbo-jumbo thrown in. Inception finds a special group of thieves (led by Leonardo Di Caprio's Cobb) attempting to instill an idea into their target's mind (a process that is called "inception") by invading his dreams. This is in contrast to their normal skill of extracting secrets from peoples heads using the same approach - invading their dreams. Inception is supposedly fraught with risk, but the motivation for Cobb to take on this risk is that he would then be able to return to the US where he is currently wanted for the murder of his wife, Mal. That is the basic plot, but the execution is anything but simple. There are layers of complexity and indeed layers of dreams. Not unlike the shaving razor wars of increasing number of blades, we go from dreams to dreams within dreams, and all the way to dreams within dreams within dreams within dreams. At some point, we the viewer give up trying to figure out which layer we are on and just go along for the ride.
And it is mostly an entertaining ride, especially if you can ignore the earnest and somewhat repetitive dialogs. The characters are dead serious about their roles and never acknowledge the absurdity of their situations. There is a resolute attempt to project an air of normalcy - it seems that everybody knows about dream invasion and extraction and indeed some folks go so far as to train themselves to defend against it. The concept is clearly futuristic and so very SciFi but all the action all seems to take place in present time - this grates on a subtle level.
The inspiration of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is obvious in a fight that takes place in a hotel corridor, but under zero gravity. Many of the effects are quite impressive, but we have stopped taking the plot seriously long before the end of the movie. Indeed, it can fairly be said that a Bond movie broke out in the middle of a Nolan movie. There is very little attempt to explain the various plot elements and we are asked to take a lot on faith. Not coincidentally, some character or the other is regularly asking somebody else to "take a leap of faith" with them.
Throughout, there are hints of secrets withheld and they are faithfully unraveled towards the end, but they had no impact - I shrugged and waited for the story to move on. The ending is another attempt to salvage the mystery element, but feels more like a cheap trick. I am a big fan of Memento and that was the major reason I went for this movie, but Nolan does not fulfill that promise. It was famously said of Memento that the cast and crew were convinced that the tale hung together after they physically rearranged the screenplay and re-read it. I strongly doubt that any such permutation of the script will help with this one. The movie is full of thrills, spills, and inane dialog, but an engrossing work it is not. I suggest waiting for the DVD.
And it is mostly an entertaining ride, especially if you can ignore the earnest and somewhat repetitive dialogs. The characters are dead serious about their roles and never acknowledge the absurdity of their situations. There is a resolute attempt to project an air of normalcy - it seems that everybody knows about dream invasion and extraction and indeed some folks go so far as to train themselves to defend against it. The concept is clearly futuristic and so very SciFi but all the action all seems to take place in present time - this grates on a subtle level.
The inspiration of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is obvious in a fight that takes place in a hotel corridor, but under zero gravity. Many of the effects are quite impressive, but we have stopped taking the plot seriously long before the end of the movie. Indeed, it can fairly be said that a Bond movie broke out in the middle of a Nolan movie. There is very little attempt to explain the various plot elements and we are asked to take a lot on faith. Not coincidentally, some character or the other is regularly asking somebody else to "take a leap of faith" with them.
Throughout, there are hints of secrets withheld and they are faithfully unraveled towards the end, but they had no impact - I shrugged and waited for the story to move on. The ending is another attempt to salvage the mystery element, but feels more like a cheap trick. I am a big fan of Memento and that was the major reason I went for this movie, but Nolan does not fulfill that promise. It was famously said of Memento that the cast and crew were convinced that the tale hung together after they physically rearranged the screenplay and re-read it. I strongly doubt that any such permutation of the script will help with this one. The movie is full of thrills, spills, and inane dialog, but an engrossing work it is not. I suggest waiting for the DVD.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
BONO
It almost seemed like clockwork - every few weeks, MGD would recycle his proposal for a 'Boys Night Out' (BoNO), but nothing ever has come of them. Yard House would invariably be mentioned and Prem would respond enthusiastically, which was somewhat odd when you consider that he has avoided any outing that may remotely resemble a BoNO. But things are different when men of action like RD make a proposal. After a successful outing with our work place hot-wings club, RD proposed a BoNO at Bub's Dive Bar last Wednesday evening. They not only have an happy hour at that time (with half priced everything), but also have a wings special - 25 cents per wing!
Remarkably, the only planning was an Outlook invite (to which Prem replied in the affirmative, but predictably did not show up), but RD managed to garner a decent turnout - seven of us - RD, Rahul, Sanjay, Murali, Siva, Ravi, and me. Email activity perked up Wed afternoon with some discussion about car pooling. Then a disturbing note crept in - some folks were actively talking about heading to Nordstrom for some post-BoNO shopping and for shoes, no less! Our noted metrosexuals were leading the charge, so perhaps it should not have been too surprising. However, as Rahul noted, that whole exchange and plan was wrong on so many levels.
We had to brave some tough traffic, but we all managed to get there in time to catch Happy Hour and the festivities began. One thing stands out at Bub's Dive Bar - they serve you peanuts in their shells and as you eat them, you simply sweep the shells onto the floor. They also seem to be Virginia Tech supporters, with several posters and banners covering the walls. We asked for their hottest wings, but sure enough the stuff they brought over was pretty lame. For the second order, I impressed upon the waitress that we wanted the really hot ones and she said, "You want 8 drops?" And I said, "Yeah, that sounds right." I had no clue what "drops" were, but the '8' rang a bell from our last visit. But the second batch was also very tolerable. The natives were beginning to get restless. They didn't say so in so many words, but clearly some skepticism was beginning to creep into their tone when I kept insisting that there is indeed a higher level of spiciness that could be had.
I called the waitress over again and said that the wings were just not hot enough. She was doubtful, but said (not very seriously I think), "You want 16 drops?" I was savvy to the drops unit by now and I said, sure, lets try that. But just make it 5 wings and get us 15 more of the previous level (8, in our estimation). She returned with the two sets of wings and right away we can tell that a new level has been reached. There were fumes coming off of the wings. RD and I graciously ceded the new batch to the newbies. After some hesitation, Sanjay, Rahul, and Siva dove in. Or I should say, took a tentative bit each. And then they stopped. They seemed to be experiencing some difficulty with speech and their eyes were tearing up. Sweat was forming on their foreheads and there was a stillness to their posture. To the rest of us, especially me, it was a riot. The looks on their faces was priceless - it was mission accomplished. After a while, Rahul got up and took a walk - like somebody with a muscle cramp, he was attempting to walk it off. He returned to the table and declared that it had worked.
In the meantime, Murali had just started on his first nuclear wing. He was being surprisingly timid. Much was expected of him, but he failed us - after a bite or two, he gave up. He made another attempt on a second wing, but that too didn't last long. To his credit he did manage to finish off a third one (that was conspicuously small), but by then the damage was done - his reputation as the King of Heat was down in flames, literally. Sanjay, on the other hand, was a true stalwart - attempting and finishing off two of the nuclear wings. I suppose this should not have been too surprising given the spice levels that Geetha is fond of.
The effect of the spice was being expressed in loud tones and we were attracting the attention of our neighboring tables. We offered them a sample, but they wisely declined. Then we realized with horror that the batch of 15 wings were also at the super spicy level. I managed one, but when I started on a second one, I had to stop short. This was unlike anything I had experienced before. To say that my mouth was on fire was difficult, because that would actually require being able to form words and emit sounds. I tried the sit-still approach, but that was useless. Sweat was pouring off of me and after several agonizing moments, I decided I had to try the Rahul technique and walk it off. As I got off the table, a cheer rose from the next one - I guess that given how much merriment I had been deriving from the suffering of the rest of our group, the sight of me capitulating was cause for celebration. Heck, they even snapped some photos of us!
The spice was having a real effect - the overall mood became much more jolly and almost everything began to sound real amusing. All the expected jokes about experiencing the wings coming and going were made. Sanjay predicted that it was going to be water for everybody the next morning. The use of baby wipes was suggested. Some soul who seemed to have some experience in these matters suggested first putting the wipes in the fridge - presumably for an extra cooling effect. Murali attempted to repair the torn shreds of his reputation by laying down one preposterous challenge after another - "I am going have 2 more!" "But you can only get them in batches of 5" "Ok, I'll have 5 then!" We dissuaded him from this foolishness. So then he goes, "Ok, then I'll just drink the sauce from the previous batch." We almost took his car keys away.
Eventually we had to leave and we spent some time standing outside the joint, just watching the folks coming in. Sanjay made a whiplash move to catch a new arrival (apparently he was just checking out the hat she was wearing) and dropped the carryout box that he had for the sample he was going to bring home for Geetha. His explanation of why he lost control of his hands while enjoying a fashionable hat was not very convincing. But then, we were not in a picky mood either, so we let it pass.
The spice was still roiling our tummies and a general cry for ice cream went out. We spotted a Gelato place across the street and headed there. By now, all thoughts of shopping were out the window and thankfully we were spared the sight of three middle aged men heading off to shop for shoes, together. Of course, a small cup of gelato was hardly sufficient to douse the flames. I had a violent fit of hiccups soon after I got home and had two Tums to calm things down. RD noted the next day that his stomach was not "very jolly." When I ran into Siva the next day, he expressed regret at not having acted on the baby wipes idea. Both Sanjay and Ravi continued to suffer through the day, but also experienced cravings for the wings. I do have it on good authority that neither of them are planning to expand their family.
An outing for half-priced chicken wings for a BoNO had all the promise of being a snooze fest, but boy, were we wrong - happily so, of course.
Remarkably, the only planning was an Outlook invite (to which Prem replied in the affirmative, but predictably did not show up), but RD managed to garner a decent turnout - seven of us - RD, Rahul, Sanjay, Murali, Siva, Ravi, and me. Email activity perked up Wed afternoon with some discussion about car pooling. Then a disturbing note crept in - some folks were actively talking about heading to Nordstrom for some post-BoNO shopping and for shoes, no less! Our noted metrosexuals were leading the charge, so perhaps it should not have been too surprising. However, as Rahul noted, that whole exchange and plan was wrong on so many levels.
We had to brave some tough traffic, but we all managed to get there in time to catch Happy Hour and the festivities began. One thing stands out at Bub's Dive Bar - they serve you peanuts in their shells and as you eat them, you simply sweep the shells onto the floor. They also seem to be Virginia Tech supporters, with several posters and banners covering the walls. We asked for their hottest wings, but sure enough the stuff they brought over was pretty lame. For the second order, I impressed upon the waitress that we wanted the really hot ones and she said, "You want 8 drops?" And I said, "Yeah, that sounds right." I had no clue what "drops" were, but the '8' rang a bell from our last visit. But the second batch was also very tolerable. The natives were beginning to get restless. They didn't say so in so many words, but clearly some skepticism was beginning to creep into their tone when I kept insisting that there is indeed a higher level of spiciness that could be had.
I called the waitress over again and said that the wings were just not hot enough. She was doubtful, but said (not very seriously I think), "You want 16 drops?" I was savvy to the drops unit by now and I said, sure, lets try that. But just make it 5 wings and get us 15 more of the previous level (8, in our estimation). She returned with the two sets of wings and right away we can tell that a new level has been reached. There were fumes coming off of the wings. RD and I graciously ceded the new batch to the newbies. After some hesitation, Sanjay, Rahul, and Siva dove in. Or I should say, took a tentative bit each. And then they stopped. They seemed to be experiencing some difficulty with speech and their eyes were tearing up. Sweat was forming on their foreheads and there was a stillness to their posture. To the rest of us, especially me, it was a riot. The looks on their faces was priceless - it was mission accomplished. After a while, Rahul got up and took a walk - like somebody with a muscle cramp, he was attempting to walk it off. He returned to the table and declared that it had worked.
In the meantime, Murali had just started on his first nuclear wing. He was being surprisingly timid. Much was expected of him, but he failed us - after a bite or two, he gave up. He made another attempt on a second wing, but that too didn't last long. To his credit he did manage to finish off a third one (that was conspicuously small), but by then the damage was done - his reputation as the King of Heat was down in flames, literally. Sanjay, on the other hand, was a true stalwart - attempting and finishing off two of the nuclear wings. I suppose this should not have been too surprising given the spice levels that Geetha is fond of.
The effect of the spice was being expressed in loud tones and we were attracting the attention of our neighboring tables. We offered them a sample, but they wisely declined. Then we realized with horror that the batch of 15 wings were also at the super spicy level. I managed one, but when I started on a second one, I had to stop short. This was unlike anything I had experienced before. To say that my mouth was on fire was difficult, because that would actually require being able to form words and emit sounds. I tried the sit-still approach, but that was useless. Sweat was pouring off of me and after several agonizing moments, I decided I had to try the Rahul technique and walk it off. As I got off the table, a cheer rose from the next one - I guess that given how much merriment I had been deriving from the suffering of the rest of our group, the sight of me capitulating was cause for celebration. Heck, they even snapped some photos of us!
The spice was having a real effect - the overall mood became much more jolly and almost everything began to sound real amusing. All the expected jokes about experiencing the wings coming and going were made. Sanjay predicted that it was going to be water for everybody the next morning. The use of baby wipes was suggested. Some soul who seemed to have some experience in these matters suggested first putting the wipes in the fridge - presumably for an extra cooling effect. Murali attempted to repair the torn shreds of his reputation by laying down one preposterous challenge after another - "I am going have 2 more!" "But you can only get them in batches of 5" "Ok, I'll have 5 then!" We dissuaded him from this foolishness. So then he goes, "Ok, then I'll just drink the sauce from the previous batch." We almost took his car keys away.
Eventually we had to leave and we spent some time standing outside the joint, just watching the folks coming in. Sanjay made a whiplash move to catch a new arrival (apparently he was just checking out the hat she was wearing) and dropped the carryout box that he had for the sample he was going to bring home for Geetha. His explanation of why he lost control of his hands while enjoying a fashionable hat was not very convincing. But then, we were not in a picky mood either, so we let it pass.
The spice was still roiling our tummies and a general cry for ice cream went out. We spotted a Gelato place across the street and headed there. By now, all thoughts of shopping were out the window and thankfully we were spared the sight of three middle aged men heading off to shop for shoes, together. Of course, a small cup of gelato was hardly sufficient to douse the flames. I had a violent fit of hiccups soon after I got home and had two Tums to calm things down. RD noted the next day that his stomach was not "very jolly." When I ran into Siva the next day, he expressed regret at not having acted on the baby wipes idea. Both Sanjay and Ravi continued to suffer through the day, but also experienced cravings for the wings. I do have it on good authority that neither of them are planning to expand their family.
An outing for half-priced chicken wings for a BoNO had all the promise of being a snooze fest, but boy, were we wrong - happily so, of course.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Kindle, Reconsidered
A while ago, I made my case (LINK) against the Kindle and its ilk. The ranks of e-book readers continue to swell, with the iPad being one of the splashier entrants. Interestingly, book publishers were among the greatest cheer leaders for the iPad (they dubbed it the "Jesus Pad") largely because they hoped that it would deliver them from the clutches of Amazon. Amazon has dominated the e-book market and its pricing power is so great that the $9.99 price for a new book became the de facto standard. Publishers hate this and indeed believe that this price is unsustainable. One of the key reasons that they were willing to sign up with Apple is that Apple is willing to allow publishers a say in the price of the e-book.
The emergence of all the new readers has had the predictable effect of dropping prices on existing readers. The regular Kindle is down to $189 and I am sure a $99 Kindle is not far away (Christmas?). And in many ways, this is mostly what Amazon expected - they don't have much interest in dominating the e-book reader market - all they care about is e-book sales. A clever part of this strategy has been to have readers for Kindle format books on every popular device, including the iPad. The most recent Kindle app has been for Android powered phones, which is what I use. This is really the trigger for this post.
Despite not owning a Kindle, I have lots of Kindle books in my account - the explanation is simple: my BIL in India uses my Amazon account to purchase books for his Kindle. So, as soon as I downloaded the (free) Kindle app for my Android phone, I had immediate access to a whole bunch of books. I started innocently enough - browsing through a few pages of Born To Run. Then I started on an Harlan Coben ("Caught") novel, not really expecting to actually go through with it. But before I knew it, I was hooked and the quick page changes required ceased to be an issue. As Bezos has famously claimed, the physical form of the "book" vanished. What remained was quick and convenient access to the book I was reading, never having to remember where I had left off. I finished that book in short order, then another one by Greg Iles ("The Devils Punchbowl") and briefly flirted with "90 Minutes in Heaven" before deciding that it was too cult-ish for me. Started a Jonathan Kellerman novel ("Bones") only to realize that I had already read it (most of these thrillers are like confections - high in excitement, low in retention) and have since moved onto a Jeffery Deaver book ("The Broken Windows"). All in the space of less than 10 days.
So am I a convert? Hardly - many of my beefs about the Kindle are still relevant, but the minor epiphany here is that what I was railing against was the notion that e-books are superior to books, magazines, and newspapers as we know them. I also didn't believe that the reading experience would measure up. But in reality, if the material is interesting enough, it almost doesn't matter what the medium is - this should have been obvious earlier. Then the undeniable convenience takes over. But, another caveat is needed - the Android app is not the first Kindle app I have tried. I had previously tried it on my laptop and on our iTouch. In both cases, I didn't read more than a couple of pages. What is different this time is that my phone is always accessible - I was already carrying it and now being able to have immediate access to my book made a lot of sense. I would often kill time playing some inane game on my phone - being able to read a book is so much better. So, there you have it - e-books do have their place!
The emergence of all the new readers has had the predictable effect of dropping prices on existing readers. The regular Kindle is down to $189 and I am sure a $99 Kindle is not far away (Christmas?). And in many ways, this is mostly what Amazon expected - they don't have much interest in dominating the e-book reader market - all they care about is e-book sales. A clever part of this strategy has been to have readers for Kindle format books on every popular device, including the iPad. The most recent Kindle app has been for Android powered phones, which is what I use. This is really the trigger for this post.
Despite not owning a Kindle, I have lots of Kindle books in my account - the explanation is simple: my BIL in India uses my Amazon account to purchase books for his Kindle. So, as soon as I downloaded the (free) Kindle app for my Android phone, I had immediate access to a whole bunch of books. I started innocently enough - browsing through a few pages of Born To Run. Then I started on an Harlan Coben ("Caught") novel, not really expecting to actually go through with it. But before I knew it, I was hooked and the quick page changes required ceased to be an issue. As Bezos has famously claimed, the physical form of the "book" vanished. What remained was quick and convenient access to the book I was reading, never having to remember where I had left off. I finished that book in short order, then another one by Greg Iles ("The Devils Punchbowl") and briefly flirted with "90 Minutes in Heaven" before deciding that it was too cult-ish for me. Started a Jonathan Kellerman novel ("Bones") only to realize that I had already read it (most of these thrillers are like confections - high in excitement, low in retention) and have since moved onto a Jeffery Deaver book ("The Broken Windows"). All in the space of less than 10 days.
So am I a convert? Hardly - many of my beefs about the Kindle are still relevant, but the minor epiphany here is that what I was railing against was the notion that e-books are superior to books, magazines, and newspapers as we know them. I also didn't believe that the reading experience would measure up. But in reality, if the material is interesting enough, it almost doesn't matter what the medium is - this should have been obvious earlier. Then the undeniable convenience takes over. But, another caveat is needed - the Android app is not the first Kindle app I have tried. I had previously tried it on my laptop and on our iTouch. In both cases, I didn't read more than a couple of pages. What is different this time is that my phone is always accessible - I was already carrying it and now being able to have immediate access to my book made a lot of sense. I would often kill time playing some inane game on my phone - being able to read a book is so much better. So, there you have it - e-books do have their place!
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Summer Arrives
Is it really Summer? Hard to tell from the weather we have been having in San Diego - you almost need a jacket in the evenings. All the other signs of Summer have arrived on schedule, though. Kids are out of school and almost everybody seems to be heading off on vacation. Our Summer has not followed its normal pattern - indeed, you could say that about the entire year so far. January was all about preparing and getting through the Carlsbad Marathon. Then Feb and March was focussed on preparing for the visit of my sister and family. Tax returns had to be filed and a minivan purchased. My sister and family were here for 4 weeks, starting early April. We did a road trip (the minivan has been quite a success) to two of our favorite places: Grand Canyon and Death Valley. My BIL, Ravi, was rather overwhelmed by the Canyon and wants badly to do the hike down to the river. Before leaving San Diego, he even bought himself some hiking shoes from REI and insisted that my sister do the same. The plan is to practice in Bangalore and come back here to do the hike. The logistics are a bit challenging, so I am not even thinking about it.
After a small lull, we had more visitors in early June - this time in the form of Malini's parents and nephew (Nishanth) and niece (Nandita, aka Neetu) from St Louis. That was a raucous 4 weeks and it surely took all of Malini's patience to get through it without having to use physical restraints on any of the kids. In mid-June, my friend Rao and family came to San Diego for a short visit and for a brief time, we had 5 kids at home. At the end of June, Manoj and Veena showed up and after spending a few days returned to St Louis with the kids. The unseasonably cold and overcast days meant that we made only one beach visit, the highlight of which was trying our hand (or should I say, hips) at hula-hooping. Arjun picked it up rather quickly while the rest of us were less successful(Hula Video). I did manage to figure out a way to keep the hoop going - using a rather ungainly, rapid fire spinning motion. The folks who had brought the hoops remarked that they had never seen anything quite like that. We also managed to squeeze in a Pani Puri session and broke out the barbecue for some grilling. Our grill has two extreme zones - a cold zone on the right and a hot zone on the left. Too much risk with undercooked chicken, so I used the left side and Chicken Carbonara was enjoyed by all.
But really, the way we mark seasons in our house is with what sports are playing on TV. Through the winter months, the boys really got into football (the American version) and Abhi nominated Drew Brees as his personal hero (largely because he decided that the Saints were the best team given their near-perfect season). After the Super Bowl, he was upset to learn that there would be no football for a while. Almost every day he asks when football season will start. January also marks the start of the PGA season, but with Tiger's off-course scandals, watching golf coverage has been muted, although we watched the finish of all the majors with great interest. I don't really follow NBA and so neither do the boys, but we had a brief flutter of interest during the finals given that the Lakers were in it and it went to seven games. Then there was the unexpected bonus of the World Cup in South Africa, which overlapped the visit of Neetu and Nishanth. This resulted in many a soccer game in the backyard in which the teams belonged to the nation of the day. For some reason, Abhi was most fascinated by the goal keepers and as is his wont, would show us slow motion replays of dramatic botched and successful saves.
July brings the last of the 'special' days (anniversary, BDs, etc) for us, but also signals the start of the Tour de France. In the past I have only paid cursory attention to it, but last year Armstrong's return from retirement caused me to watch the coverage almost every morning. The boys and Malini also got into it and Abhi (who decided he was Contador during that time) was inspired to take the training wheels off his bike. I was looking forward to this years race given that Armstrong and Contador would be going head to head. Things started well, but after several crashes in the early stages it became clear that Armstrong was not going to be a GC contender and it was going to be a 2-man race between Contador and Andy Schleck (they finished 1-2 last year). We are still watching it, but not with as much enthusiasm as last year, although with the race reaching the Pyrenees in its last week, the race has become full of drama. One final mountain stage awaits - with a finish atop legendary Col du Tourmalet.
The highlight though has been the Padres baseball season. They were expected to do nothing this year, but have played exceptionally well and sit atop their division. This essentially means that the boys and I are watching or listening any time they are playing. We play a lot of baseball at home in which every aspect of the real thing is fully enacted. We run the bases, call fair and foul balls, hit singles, doubles, and home runs, keep pitch counts, and even try different types of pitches (so far limited to fast balls, sliders and curve balls).
And so the summer rolls on. After the hot spell of last week, we are back to being the Seattle of the South. The Summer has been quiet, but still feels a bit hectic. In just over a month, Arjun's school will reopen and a new rhythm will take over. Of course the only cadence we will really care about is "1-Mississipi, 2-Mississipi, Ted, Hut!"
After a small lull, we had more visitors in early June - this time in the form of Malini's parents and nephew (Nishanth) and niece (Nandita, aka Neetu) from St Louis. That was a raucous 4 weeks and it surely took all of Malini's patience to get through it without having to use physical restraints on any of the kids. In mid-June, my friend Rao and family came to San Diego for a short visit and for a brief time, we had 5 kids at home. At the end of June, Manoj and Veena showed up and after spending a few days returned to St Louis with the kids. The unseasonably cold and overcast days meant that we made only one beach visit, the highlight of which was trying our hand (or should I say, hips) at hula-hooping. Arjun picked it up rather quickly while the rest of us were less successful(Hula Video). I did manage to figure out a way to keep the hoop going - using a rather ungainly, rapid fire spinning motion. The folks who had brought the hoops remarked that they had never seen anything quite like that. We also managed to squeeze in a Pani Puri session and broke out the barbecue for some grilling. Our grill has two extreme zones - a cold zone on the right and a hot zone on the left. Too much risk with undercooked chicken, so I used the left side and Chicken Carbonara was enjoyed by all.
But really, the way we mark seasons in our house is with what sports are playing on TV. Through the winter months, the boys really got into football (the American version) and Abhi nominated Drew Brees as his personal hero (largely because he decided that the Saints were the best team given their near-perfect season). After the Super Bowl, he was upset to learn that there would be no football for a while. Almost every day he asks when football season will start. January also marks the start of the PGA season, but with Tiger's off-course scandals, watching golf coverage has been muted, although we watched the finish of all the majors with great interest. I don't really follow NBA and so neither do the boys, but we had a brief flutter of interest during the finals given that the Lakers were in it and it went to seven games. Then there was the unexpected bonus of the World Cup in South Africa, which overlapped the visit of Neetu and Nishanth. This resulted in many a soccer game in the backyard in which the teams belonged to the nation of the day. For some reason, Abhi was most fascinated by the goal keepers and as is his wont, would show us slow motion replays of dramatic botched and successful saves.
July brings the last of the 'special' days (anniversary, BDs, etc) for us, but also signals the start of the Tour de France. In the past I have only paid cursory attention to it, but last year Armstrong's return from retirement caused me to watch the coverage almost every morning. The boys and Malini also got into it and Abhi (who decided he was Contador during that time) was inspired to take the training wheels off his bike. I was looking forward to this years race given that Armstrong and Contador would be going head to head. Things started well, but after several crashes in the early stages it became clear that Armstrong was not going to be a GC contender and it was going to be a 2-man race between Contador and Andy Schleck (they finished 1-2 last year). We are still watching it, but not with as much enthusiasm as last year, although with the race reaching the Pyrenees in its last week, the race has become full of drama. One final mountain stage awaits - with a finish atop legendary Col du Tourmalet.
The highlight though has been the Padres baseball season. They were expected to do nothing this year, but have played exceptionally well and sit atop their division. This essentially means that the boys and I are watching or listening any time they are playing. We play a lot of baseball at home in which every aspect of the real thing is fully enacted. We run the bases, call fair and foul balls, hit singles, doubles, and home runs, keep pitch counts, and even try different types of pitches (so far limited to fast balls, sliders and curve balls).
And so the summer rolls on. After the hot spell of last week, we are back to being the Seattle of the South. The Summer has been quiet, but still feels a bit hectic. In just over a month, Arjun's school will reopen and a new rhythm will take over. Of course the only cadence we will really care about is "1-Mississipi, 2-Mississipi, Ted, Hut!"
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
"Shantaram"
People from Bangalore may be familiar with 'Premier Books' - a little hole in the wall book shop on Church Street, just off MG Road. It used to be my favorite haunt and I always pay a visit during every Bangalore trip. I know the owner quite well and generally ask for his recommendations (and end up walking out with an arm full of books). One of the books I got during my last visit in 2008 was Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. It is story set in India and apparently was doing quite well. I started it soon after my return, but couldn't make much headway and for over a year, it just sat on my book shelf. At almost 950 pages, it is not a book that you just quickly toss off. Then, a few weeks ago I decided to give it one more go and as has happened before, the second attempt was the charm - the story grabbed my interest and kept me up several late nights trying to finish it.
Shantaram is the true story (or is at least based on one) of the author, Gregory Roberts, who spent 8 years in Bombay in the late '80s while on the run from the Australian authorities. He had been convicted for armed robbery (as a side effect of feeding his heroin habit) and had escaped from prison. He arrived in India on a stolen New Zealand passport under the name of Lindsay. He couldn't really reveal his real name and was 'Lin' or 'Lin-baba' for his entire stay.
It is a remarkable tale and mostly well told. The experiences he packed into the eight years would be sufficient for a few lifetimes. He has to hide from the authorities and inevitably gets involved with the Bombay underworld. He starts off befriending a local Bombay guide (whose mother bestows the moniker "Shantaram" on him) and that leads to him to living in a slum. Despite his white skin and Western sensibilities, he integrates well into life in the slum and gets accepted by the locals. He becomes the de facto slum doctor when he calls upon his first aid training to care for some fire victims. Simultaneously, he is also moving up the mafia ladder and soon is out of the slum, but not before spending a few brutal months in a notorious prison (Arthur Road Jail, for folks familiar with Bombay) enduring torture and near death. Along the way, he becomes a player in Bollywood and rather unexpectedly, travels to Afghanistan to bring material support to the mujahadeen in their fight against the Soviets. This part feels very immediate in its resonance with the current situation in Afghanistan.
The driving force of the narrative though, is a love story. Lin meets (the first time he steps onto the streets of Bombay, if we are to believe his version) a rather mysterious westerner (Swiss-American as we learn later) called Karla and spends most of the book trying to win her over. For reasons not fully revealed till the end (and unsatisfactorily at that), she is unable to love him back. There is a theatrical quality to the events and dialog, but this tension does keep the story moving forward. Another central figure is Khader, the erudite mafia don, whom Lin comes to see as a father figure. Significant real estate is devoted to Khader explicating his philosophy of life (which the less charitable will see as a thinly veiled rationalization of criminal acts by a deeply religious man). It is clear that establishing this take on the "meaning of life" is an important goal for the author (& no doubt, the 'Khader' figure is a composite created for this purpose), but it feels insubstantial. Thankfully, the rest of the story is strong enough to carry the novel.
This book has been something of a world-wide phenomenon and according to Gregory Roberts this is actually the second (& so far, only) book of a trilogy (or quartet according to some sources) that he is planning. A Hollywood studio picked up the movie rights and Mira Nair signed on as Director with Johnny Depp playing the lead role. They even scouted out locations, but it is unclear what the current status is.
Bombay plays a key role in the story and the city in its various moods, colors, smells, and people come to vivid life in the telling. A Bombay native will enjoy the book just for the nostalgia it is likely to evoke. The author clearly loves the city but does not shy away from presenting the city and people with all their warts. The descriptions of his prison stay are especially hard to stomach. It never feels mean, however - this is somebody who is very fond of India and Indians.
The story is gripping, but some of the writing is a bit overwrought. The author often spends several paragraphs waxing poetic about some emotion he was feeling to the point of feeling contrived and I began to skip these sections. The knowledge that this is largely a true story keeps you going and overall, the book does not disappoint.
Shantaram is the true story (or is at least based on one) of the author, Gregory Roberts, who spent 8 years in Bombay in the late '80s while on the run from the Australian authorities. He had been convicted for armed robbery (as a side effect of feeding his heroin habit) and had escaped from prison. He arrived in India on a stolen New Zealand passport under the name of Lindsay. He couldn't really reveal his real name and was 'Lin' or 'Lin-baba' for his entire stay.
It is a remarkable tale and mostly well told. The experiences he packed into the eight years would be sufficient for a few lifetimes. He has to hide from the authorities and inevitably gets involved with the Bombay underworld. He starts off befriending a local Bombay guide (whose mother bestows the moniker "Shantaram" on him) and that leads to him to living in a slum. Despite his white skin and Western sensibilities, he integrates well into life in the slum and gets accepted by the locals. He becomes the de facto slum doctor when he calls upon his first aid training to care for some fire victims. Simultaneously, he is also moving up the mafia ladder and soon is out of the slum, but not before spending a few brutal months in a notorious prison (Arthur Road Jail, for folks familiar with Bombay) enduring torture and near death. Along the way, he becomes a player in Bollywood and rather unexpectedly, travels to Afghanistan to bring material support to the mujahadeen in their fight against the Soviets. This part feels very immediate in its resonance with the current situation in Afghanistan.
The driving force of the narrative though, is a love story. Lin meets (the first time he steps onto the streets of Bombay, if we are to believe his version) a rather mysterious westerner (Swiss-American as we learn later) called Karla and spends most of the book trying to win her over. For reasons not fully revealed till the end (and unsatisfactorily at that), she is unable to love him back. There is a theatrical quality to the events and dialog, but this tension does keep the story moving forward. Another central figure is Khader, the erudite mafia don, whom Lin comes to see as a father figure. Significant real estate is devoted to Khader explicating his philosophy of life (which the less charitable will see as a thinly veiled rationalization of criminal acts by a deeply religious man). It is clear that establishing this take on the "meaning of life" is an important goal for the author (& no doubt, the 'Khader' figure is a composite created for this purpose), but it feels insubstantial. Thankfully, the rest of the story is strong enough to carry the novel.
This book has been something of a world-wide phenomenon and according to Gregory Roberts this is actually the second (& so far, only) book of a trilogy (or quartet according to some sources) that he is planning. A Hollywood studio picked up the movie rights and Mira Nair signed on as Director with Johnny Depp playing the lead role. They even scouted out locations, but it is unclear what the current status is.
Bombay plays a key role in the story and the city in its various moods, colors, smells, and people come to vivid life in the telling. A Bombay native will enjoy the book just for the nostalgia it is likely to evoke. The author clearly loves the city but does not shy away from presenting the city and people with all their warts. The descriptions of his prison stay are especially hard to stomach. It never feels mean, however - this is somebody who is very fond of India and Indians.
The story is gripping, but some of the writing is a bit overwrought. The author often spends several paragraphs waxing poetic about some emotion he was feeling to the point of feeling contrived and I began to skip these sections. The knowledge that this is largely a true story keeps you going and overall, the book does not disappoint.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The Tooth Fairy
Arjun stirred as I carefully lifted his pillow and searched around for the little plastic baggie in which he had saved the first tooth that he had lost earlier that day. I was playing tooth fairy, but with a mild sense of unease. I removed the tooth and replaced it with five 1-dollar bills, feeling at once a sense of satisfaction from fulfilling an expected role and a disquiet from the con (albeit harmless) I was perpetuating.
In the morning I pretended to be amazed at the generosity of the tooth fairy (Arjun had rather doubtfully expected one or two dollars the previous night) and congratulated him on his find. An unexpected (but not altogether surprising) effect was Abhi being upset that he hadn't gotten anything and bursting into tears. I pacified him by contributing a dollar to his (broken) piggy bank. Arjun was pretty stoked by the whole thing but I wasn't feeling particularly thrilled.
Looking into Arjun's trusting eyes, all round with the wonder of it all as he recounted how the tooth fairy had taken away his tooth, I really had to question why we did this. As adults we tend to tell many little lies to kids, rationalizing that it is all for their benefit: either they get some comfort from it or they just can't handle the truth. One common situation this occurs is when kids go on their endless "why" questions spree. I learned quickly that what I was comfortable with was to give them the most truthful answer that I could. And if I couldn't explain it to their level (or satisfaction) then that is exactly what I would tell them - that I cannot explain it any better. This eliminates the need to remember what I had told them and having to answer the question, "But why did you tell me that...?" At the same time, I do believe that childhood is a magical time that never comes back and I don't want to be one of those humorless parents who insist on exposing their kids to the "realities of life" (in their estimation) as early as possible. And so, I continue to push the fantasy of Santa and now the Tooth Fairy.
Maybe I am making too much of this and there is no significant impact from these little lies, but I cannot help thinking that every time a child realizes that he or she had been subject to a deception, some trust is lost. It is not the sort of stuff that leads to therapy sessions or even resentment (at least I hope not), but there is still a loss. But then, maybe that is what growing up is all about: taking off the rose colored glasses.
At least in this case, the matter resolved itself. In the evening, I received a call from Malini - apparently, Arjun had found out from his friend Suraj that it was no tooth fairy that had placed the money under his pillow, but instead it was me. He was upset and confused. As is his wont, he was in tears and asked if the tooth fairy did not take his tooth, then who did? And what would happen to all the teeth? Malini consoled him and said that we would talk after I came back home. Eventually we decided that it was best to just explain the truth and not prolong the deception. It turned out to be fine - he accepted the explanation and didn't seem terribly put out. He was happy to get his tooth back - apparently what had bothered him was not the actual lack of existence of a tooth fairy, but that given this fact, there was no good explanation to what had happened to his tooth. And so goes another little rite of passage through childhood. I am thinking that, at least in our house, Santa's days are numbered.
In the morning I pretended to be amazed at the generosity of the tooth fairy (Arjun had rather doubtfully expected one or two dollars the previous night) and congratulated him on his find. An unexpected (but not altogether surprising) effect was Abhi being upset that he hadn't gotten anything and bursting into tears. I pacified him by contributing a dollar to his (broken) piggy bank. Arjun was pretty stoked by the whole thing but I wasn't feeling particularly thrilled.
Looking into Arjun's trusting eyes, all round with the wonder of it all as he recounted how the tooth fairy had taken away his tooth, I really had to question why we did this. As adults we tend to tell many little lies to kids, rationalizing that it is all for their benefit: either they get some comfort from it or they just can't handle the truth. One common situation this occurs is when kids go on their endless "why" questions spree. I learned quickly that what I was comfortable with was to give them the most truthful answer that I could. And if I couldn't explain it to their level (or satisfaction) then that is exactly what I would tell them - that I cannot explain it any better. This eliminates the need to remember what I had told them and having to answer the question, "But why did you tell me that...?" At the same time, I do believe that childhood is a magical time that never comes back and I don't want to be one of those humorless parents who insist on exposing their kids to the "realities of life" (in their estimation) as early as possible. And so, I continue to push the fantasy of Santa and now the Tooth Fairy.
Maybe I am making too much of this and there is no significant impact from these little lies, but I cannot help thinking that every time a child realizes that he or she had been subject to a deception, some trust is lost. It is not the sort of stuff that leads to therapy sessions or even resentment (at least I hope not), but there is still a loss. But then, maybe that is what growing up is all about: taking off the rose colored glasses.
At least in this case, the matter resolved itself. In the evening, I received a call from Malini - apparently, Arjun had found out from his friend Suraj that it was no tooth fairy that had placed the money under his pillow, but instead it was me. He was upset and confused. As is his wont, he was in tears and asked if the tooth fairy did not take his tooth, then who did? And what would happen to all the teeth? Malini consoled him and said that we would talk after I came back home. Eventually we decided that it was best to just explain the truth and not prolong the deception. It turned out to be fine - he accepted the explanation and didn't seem terribly put out. He was happy to get his tooth back - apparently what had bothered him was not the actual lack of existence of a tooth fairy, but that given this fact, there was no good explanation to what had happened to his tooth. And so goes another little rite of passage through childhood. I am thinking that, at least in our house, Santa's days are numbered.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Limits
Arjun has always been a bit more interested in music than I think is average (he once requested a specific Bob Dylan song), but Abhi is a bit more derivative in his interests - usually, keying off what Arjun, Malini, or I like. With "Rock-On" it was different though - both boys firmly took possession of the album and Abhi, in particular would hum garbled phrases from the songs throughout the day. One line (from the title song) in particular used to puzzle me a great deal. He would go: "Hurlum Huppukkara." Now, I am the guy who sang, "Samjota Samose Kar Lo" instead of "Samjota Gumon Se Kar Lo" so who was I to throw stones? I finally asked Malini what Abhi was trying to say. Turned out the line is "Har Lamha Yehe Pukara."
Arjun is a lot more catholic in his musical taste - tolerating, and even enjoying almost anything I would play for him - Jazz, Carnatic, Hindi film music, and of course, ghazals. Abhi, on the other hand is a lot less tolerant of all this non-kid friendly music and doesn't hesitate to express his displeasure. While driving him to school every morning, if its not the Eagles (specifically, Hotel California, which he can listen to on a loop), it better be some kid's music. Of course, he is equally happy, if not happier, if I turn off the music and answer his questions about the cars next to us or specific situations that might arise in an NFL game.
Even so, I thought he was getting indoctrinated what with Malini also playing Ghulam Ali songs almost incessantly at home. Then one night I was trying to put the boys to sleep. Our normal modus operandi for this is to lie down with them, read them each their book selections, and then turn off the lights and fall asleep - there is no use pretending to do so - I tried that once and opened my eyes to find Abhi staring at me from about 2 inches away checking on me. Since sleep does not come that easily, I take requests for songs and they are usually some rhymes. On this night, I proposed a ghazal and Arjun agreed. Abhi demurred and then changed his mind - ghazal was ok with him. Invoking my best Ghulam Ali, I started:
Hum ko kiske gum ne mara...
Hum ko kiske gum ne mara... (repeating the opening line as in every ghazal rendition).
But, Abhi had already had enough. I was just starting to repeat the line again when he broke in with almost perfect timing: "Is that all you know, acha?"
I burst out laughing and while he had no idea why it was amusing, he took full credit for it and for several days afterwards would ask me to sing this song just so that he could interject with, "Is that all you know, acha?"
Arjun is a lot more catholic in his musical taste - tolerating, and even enjoying almost anything I would play for him - Jazz, Carnatic, Hindi film music, and of course, ghazals. Abhi, on the other hand is a lot less tolerant of all this non-kid friendly music and doesn't hesitate to express his displeasure. While driving him to school every morning, if its not the Eagles (specifically, Hotel California, which he can listen to on a loop), it better be some kid's music. Of course, he is equally happy, if not happier, if I turn off the music and answer his questions about the cars next to us or specific situations that might arise in an NFL game.
Even so, I thought he was getting indoctrinated what with Malini also playing Ghulam Ali songs almost incessantly at home. Then one night I was trying to put the boys to sleep. Our normal modus operandi for this is to lie down with them, read them each their book selections, and then turn off the lights and fall asleep - there is no use pretending to do so - I tried that once and opened my eyes to find Abhi staring at me from about 2 inches away checking on me. Since sleep does not come that easily, I take requests for songs and they are usually some rhymes. On this night, I proposed a ghazal and Arjun agreed. Abhi demurred and then changed his mind - ghazal was ok with him. Invoking my best Ghulam Ali, I started:
Hum ko kiske gum ne mara...
Hum ko kiske gum ne mara... (repeating the opening line as in every ghazal rendition).
But, Abhi had already had enough. I was just starting to repeat the line again when he broke in with almost perfect timing: "Is that all you know, acha?"
I burst out laughing and while he had no idea why it was amusing, he took full credit for it and for several days afterwards would ask me to sing this song just so that he could interject with, "Is that all you know, acha?"
Sunday, February 7, 2010
The Reverie Harp
This is a somewhat unusual topic for me to blog about, but I have deemed it "blog-worthy." (I trust enough of my readers will get the thinly veiled Seinfeld allusion.)
I heard this last week on the classical music program, "Performance Today" (Weekdays 7-9pm, KPBS Radio) and while most of the details of the music they are playing go over my head, this segment was different. It introduced a new instrument called the "Reverie Harp" and its use in some forms of therapy. It is an instrument that was designed specifically for people with no musical skills and apparently almost anybody can learn to play it reasonably well in a very short period of time. Its not really a performance instrument - instead, as the name suggests, it is an instrument that is used to cause a reverie. One group of people who have found this instrument helpful are those dealing with impending death - folks who have been told that they have a limited time to live (possibly the most defining piece of news one could receive). This resonated (no pun intended) with me, and hence this post.
If you want to hear the PT segment, here is a link to the audio. The actual discussion about the Reverie Harp starts at 50:25 of the second hour. You can also read about it on the website of the creator of this instrument (Roberts).
I heard this last week on the classical music program, "Performance Today" (Weekdays 7-9pm, KPBS Radio) and while most of the details of the music they are playing go over my head, this segment was different. It introduced a new instrument called the "Reverie Harp" and its use in some forms of therapy. It is an instrument that was designed specifically for people with no musical skills and apparently almost anybody can learn to play it reasonably well in a very short period of time. Its not really a performance instrument - instead, as the name suggests, it is an instrument that is used to cause a reverie. One group of people who have found this instrument helpful are those dealing with impending death - folks who have been told that they have a limited time to live (possibly the most defining piece of news one could receive). This resonated (no pun intended) with me, and hence this post.
If you want to hear the PT segment, here is a link to the audio. The actual discussion about the Reverie Harp starts at 50:25 of the second hour. You can also read about it on the website of the creator of this instrument (Roberts).
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
It Never Rains, but it Pours
This story is well known within our San Diego crowd, at least those who have been around since 1996 or so. I have been meaning to record it for a while now, so here goes.
It was a Monday in early '96 and Rahul, Sanjay, and I were roommates in a 3-BR townhouse in Pacific Beach. I was enrolled in a UCSD Extension course and was taking the day off to prepare for the final. I was heading upstairs to the kitchen when I started feeling slightly woozy, but I managed to negotiate the stairs without issue. I had some cereal and still feeling a little light headed, went back down to my room. I was getting more dizzy and soon nausea hit me and I just made it to the bathroom to heave up my stomach contents. I could barely stand and stumbled back to my bed. Subsequent trips to the bathroom had to be done on all fours. The only way to avoid nausea was to lie face down on my bed and remain completely still. Clearly, this was not a sustainable situation, so I dragged myself across the hallway and knocked on Sanjay's door. He responded after a while:
Me: "Hey Sanjay, I am not feeling too good. Can you drive me to the hospital?"
Sanjay (in a feeble voice): "Actually, I am not feeling good either. I was about to ask you to take me to the doctor."
Me: "What happened to you?"
Sanjay: "I am not sure, but I think I have Chicken Pox." I crawled back to my room. Rather conveniently, Rahul had left town earlier in the morning.
After some time, I called up RD and he came by as soon as he could. He offered to drive me to the hospital, but I refused - I didn't think I could tolerate the movement. He called 911. I could only hear one side of the conversation, but since RD was relaying all the questions to me I knew what they were asking:
911 Operator: "What's the problem?"
RD: "My friend is not well and needs to go to the hospital."
Op: "Can he move?" (RD to me:"Can you move?" Me: "No!")
Op: "Is there any blood?" (RD to me: "Is there any blood?" Me: "No!")
Op: "Can he talk?" (RD to me:"Can you...") "Yes, he can talk."
RD: "Can you send an ambulance?" And she said, sure, they could.
The ambulance showed up soon and the EMTs came in and established that I was not prepared to raise my head or move in any way. They strapped me to a stretcher and took me in. (A minor disappointment is that they saw no reason to turn on the siren on the way to the hospital.) RD was going to follow in his car and just as he was about to leave, Sanjay came out and asked if he could tag along.
I was wheeled into the ER and nurses and doctors milled about. Eventually I got the diagnosis - most likely an inner ear infection. Nothing to be done, except to sleep it off and oh, here is a prescription for some Codeine. I was feeling less nauseous now and walked out to the waiting room where Sanjay was waiting with his own diagnosis - confirmed chicken pox. RD drove us both home with a stop at a pharmacy to pick up the prescriptions. A rather miserable week ensued with both of us struggling to fend for ourselves. Meanwhile the one guy who could have helped us - our third roommate Rahul - was enjoying his visit to Boulder. Oh sure, he expressed his sympathies by email and wished he could be there. But it all turned out ok: As soon as he came back from his trip, he came down with Chicken Pox.
It was a Monday in early '96 and Rahul, Sanjay, and I were roommates in a 3-BR townhouse in Pacific Beach. I was enrolled in a UCSD Extension course and was taking the day off to prepare for the final. I was heading upstairs to the kitchen when I started feeling slightly woozy, but I managed to negotiate the stairs without issue. I had some cereal and still feeling a little light headed, went back down to my room. I was getting more dizzy and soon nausea hit me and I just made it to the bathroom to heave up my stomach contents. I could barely stand and stumbled back to my bed. Subsequent trips to the bathroom had to be done on all fours. The only way to avoid nausea was to lie face down on my bed and remain completely still. Clearly, this was not a sustainable situation, so I dragged myself across the hallway and knocked on Sanjay's door. He responded after a while:
Me: "Hey Sanjay, I am not feeling too good. Can you drive me to the hospital?"
Sanjay (in a feeble voice): "Actually, I am not feeling good either. I was about to ask you to take me to the doctor."
Me: "What happened to you?"
Sanjay: "I am not sure, but I think I have Chicken Pox." I crawled back to my room. Rather conveniently, Rahul had left town earlier in the morning.
After some time, I called up RD and he came by as soon as he could. He offered to drive me to the hospital, but I refused - I didn't think I could tolerate the movement. He called 911. I could only hear one side of the conversation, but since RD was relaying all the questions to me I knew what they were asking:
911 Operator: "What's the problem?"
RD: "My friend is not well and needs to go to the hospital."
Op: "Can he move?" (RD to me:"Can you move?" Me: "No!")
Op: "Is there any blood?" (RD to me: "Is there any blood?" Me: "No!")
Op: "Can he talk?" (RD to me:"Can you...") "Yes, he can talk."
RD: "Can you send an ambulance?" And she said, sure, they could.
The ambulance showed up soon and the EMTs came in and established that I was not prepared to raise my head or move in any way. They strapped me to a stretcher and took me in. (A minor disappointment is that they saw no reason to turn on the siren on the way to the hospital.) RD was going to follow in his car and just as he was about to leave, Sanjay came out and asked if he could tag along.
I was wheeled into the ER and nurses and doctors milled about. Eventually I got the diagnosis - most likely an inner ear infection. Nothing to be done, except to sleep it off and oh, here is a prescription for some Codeine. I was feeling less nauseous now and walked out to the waiting room where Sanjay was waiting with his own diagnosis - confirmed chicken pox. RD drove us both home with a stop at a pharmacy to pick up the prescriptions. A rather miserable week ensued with both of us struggling to fend for ourselves. Meanwhile the one guy who could have helped us - our third roommate Rahul - was enjoying his visit to Boulder. Oh sure, he expressed his sympathies by email and wished he could be there. But it all turned out ok: As soon as he came back from his trip, he came down with Chicken Pox.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Child's Play
Lately, friday evening has become Xbox game night which means Madden NFL 10. Arjun was engrossed in a Saints Vs Redskins game and Abhi was getting antsy for his turn. In a bid to distract him, I suggested that he do his pretend game - this is something he is always doing: simulate the snap and then pretend to be the QB who throws an imaginary ball and after the throw is done, switch to being the receiver, who more often than not fails to make the catch. There is much rolling, tackling, and quite a few injuries, all accompanied by play-by-play narration. Each play is of course followed by a slow motion replay of what happened with added expert commentary.
Abhi quickly brightened upon my suggestion and right away went into the stance ready to snap the ball. In the Xbox game, you are given three or four choices for the play to run along with the button ('A', 'X', 'Y', etc) to press for the particular play. In a bid to make things a bit more interesting for Abhi, I pretended that I had a xbox remote in my hand and announced that I was pressing 'A.' He immediately liked this new variation and started insisting that I "press" a button before each snap. We did this a couple of times and both times the (pretend) receiver failed to hold on to the (pretend) ball. On the third occasion, the receiver apparently held on to the ball and proceeded to score a touchdown. I thought some celebration was indicated and enthusiastically beckoned Abhi to come for a high-five. All I got in response was a frown. I once again called, "Abhi, come, high-five - you scored a touchdown." Another frown and then in an exasperated tone, "Achaaaa, I am in the TV!"
You see, what I had failed to grasp was that this was not your run of the mill pretend NFL game - on the contrary this was a pretend version of a pretend game (Madden NFL 10), which any 3 year old will tell you, happens "inside the TV" and you certainly cannot high-five those players.
Abhi quickly brightened upon my suggestion and right away went into the stance ready to snap the ball. In the Xbox game, you are given three or four choices for the play to run along with the button ('A', 'X', 'Y', etc) to press for the particular play. In a bid to make things a bit more interesting for Abhi, I pretended that I had a xbox remote in my hand and announced that I was pressing 'A.' He immediately liked this new variation and started insisting that I "press" a button before each snap. We did this a couple of times and both times the (pretend) receiver failed to hold on to the (pretend) ball. On the third occasion, the receiver apparently held on to the ball and proceeded to score a touchdown. I thought some celebration was indicated and enthusiastically beckoned Abhi to come for a high-five. All I got in response was a frown. I once again called, "Abhi, come, high-five - you scored a touchdown." Another frown and then in an exasperated tone, "Achaaaa, I am in the TV!"
You see, what I had failed to grasp was that this was not your run of the mill pretend NFL game - on the contrary this was a pretend version of a pretend game (Madden NFL 10), which any 3 year old will tell you, happens "inside the TV" and you certainly cannot high-five those players.
My First Marathon
I was feeling anxious, tense even. It was Jan 23rd, the day before the 2010 Carlsbad Marathon and I had a sense of foreboding - surely something was going to go wrong and interfere with my run the next day. Would it be my gimpy IT-band? Would it be my increasingly queasy stomach? Or maybe I'd just sleep through the alarm on race morning? (I set two of them, just in case.) I spent the day taking note of every twinge and stiffness in every muscle and joint. Many folks asked me if I was "all set" and I really didn't know how to respond. Sure, I had done my preparation, but was I really "all set?"
The preparation had begun almost 5 months earlier, actually almost without realizing it. I had been running Miramar Lake (~5 miles) for almost an year, but didn't seriously believe that I could go much longer. Then I had a minor epiphany that the way to approach longer distances was to plan to take walking breaks in between. In a burst of determination, I put this theory to test that very weekend and ended up going 6 mi without stopping. Without really thinking much about it, I did 8, 10, and 11 in the succeeding weekends. Now there was no looking back - I had to give the marathon a shot. My friend Greg was partly responsible for my return to running in late 2008 and after starting from near-zero running till then, he was already doing 2 laps of Miramar Lake. He proposed the Silver Strand Half Marathon that was scheduled for Nov 15th and I quickly countered that we could use that as the half-way point for the Carlsbad Marathon, a suggestion that was not received seriously.
My guide was Hal Higdon's novice training schedule, which is an 18 week training schedule for first time marathoners. Since I had already worked up to 11 miles, I jumped in at week 6. The training was going mostly according to plan with only a few hiccups - the first time I did 13, 15, and 16 miles were rather difficult, for reasons mostly relating to heat, lack of sleep, etc. As Nov 15th approached, I eased off on the runs in anticipation of the Silver Strand - my maiden half marathon. The run started well, but, around mile 6, I felt a sharp pain on the outside of my right hip which eventually migrated to the outside of my right knee. The pain was bearable, though, and I finished under 2 hours, which had been my outside goal.
But the injury had me worried - how much would it set my training back? I started regular Chiropractor visits and with careful management, I was able to get back on schedule within a couple of weeks. As I looked ahead into the schedule, I realized that our Costa Rica trip, scheduled for the third week of December would be right when I was supposed to do the long runs - 18 & 20. I decided it was better to complete those runs before the trip and indeed had very good training runs of 14, 18, and 20 in the three weekends leading up to the trip. I ran a couple of times during the trip, but they were relatively difficult which I attributed to the high humidity. However, upon my return I found that my conditioning had indeed relapsed. I stepped up the mileage in a bid to gain it back, but without having the option of doing a really long one, I would have to depend on the recalled confidence from the 20 mile run which would be 6 weeks old by the time race day arrived.
So here I was, a day before the race all nervous and anxious about what to expect. The obvious question was how I would deal with the 20+ region - a region never ventured into before. Ironically, I was actually looking forward to that, but was on tenterhooks about a dozen other concerns. I had my pasta dinner and went to bed early, but woke up around 1am with a queasy stomach. However, an Alka Seltzer seemed to help and I was able to go back to sleep soon.
On race day, I woke up easily with my 3.30am alarm and my preparations went well and I was ready when Greg showed up at 4.30. The drive up there was peaceful and I was gratified to note the abundance of porta-potties since the lines for using them right before the race is usually a stressful affair.
It was a bit cool, but clearly I could eschew all warm gear for the run. As it turned out the weather was almost perfect for the entire run. The first part of the run was going as per plan and I did the Palomar Airport Road hill without any problems. Around mile 15, Greg and I were still running together (Greg's family had shown up unexpectedly at mile 14 to cheer us on) when I slowed to a walk to have my first gel pack (I had had a Powerbar at mile 10). I was hoping to find a water station soon after, but had to wait more than a mile to find one. At this point Greg had pulled ahead and stayed ahead for the rest of the race.
Going into the race, all the concern had been about the Palomar Airport hill, but what really affected me were the several sharp climbs in the later half of the race. The climb up to mile 18 was one of them, leading up to the Southern tip of the route, La Costa Avenue. I was running alone and trying hard to ignore the low back pain that had pretty much settled in and was rather unexpected. As I crossed mile 20 and began another climb, my legs started feeling rather heavy and I really wished I had stopped to stretch. I was still under the 4 hour pace though and needed to keep going if I was going to finish that way. However, as I got past mile 21, it was becoming rather obvious that the 4 hour goal was almost gone. I tried to find a good rhythm and pound on.
Around mile 22, I heard somebody loudly call out my name and I reluctantly lifted my head to realize that it was Vito - another friend from work and a strong runner on his own accord. He had shown up to cheer us on and fell in next to me with the idea of doing a mile or so with me. He soon realized that I was struggling and decided to just stay with me all the way. It was kind of funny how that helped me - I pushed myself just a bit more almost because I didn't want to disappoint Vito, who was expressing so much confidence in my ability to finish well. Still, I took about 4 walking breaks in the last 4 miles and I almost took another one towards the end, but Vito's exhortations kept me going. As turned the final bend, I finally noticed Malini and the boys (I had expected to see them at mile 25) on the side of the road. I waved and powered on to the finish line, posting a time of 4:05, which though only 5 minutes outside my goal, left me with a slightly disappointed feeling because of how close I had come (Greg finished in 3:50).
No doubt doing the long runs so much before the race played a part, but so did my poor nutrition during the run. I had almost no protein or fiber either in the morning or during the run and realized later that I had been really hungry. In the days following the run though, I began to feel better about my effort - after all, completing 26.2 miles in 4:05 is a significant accomplishment, no matter how much better it could have been.
An insight that will surprise no one is that attempting things like these are more a mental challenge than a physical one. Indeed, the long runs are as much mental training (most folks baulk at the thought of having to run for 4 hours, let alone having the physical stamina to do so) as they are physical conditioning. Race day itself is manageable - its one day after all - most everybody can talk themselves into going out and putting out one big effort. The real challenge is the discipline to stay with the 5-month long training program - doing all the runs no matter what the situation, week after week. A big part of why I was able to do this was the support of Malini and the boys - accommodating my weekday and weekend running schedule was hard enough - the vegetable I turned into after my long weekend run just added to it. Keeping me going even as my confidence waned closer to the race was a challenge on several levels. But now I get to return the favour: I have almost talked her into doing the La Jolla Half Marathon with me.
Some stats from my training:
Number of training runs: 70
Total mileage: 470
Longest run: 20 miles (on 12/13/09, 6 weeks before marathon).
The preparation had begun almost 5 months earlier, actually almost without realizing it. I had been running Miramar Lake (~5 miles) for almost an year, but didn't seriously believe that I could go much longer. Then I had a minor epiphany that the way to approach longer distances was to plan to take walking breaks in between. In a burst of determination, I put this theory to test that very weekend and ended up going 6 mi without stopping. Without really thinking much about it, I did 8, 10, and 11 in the succeeding weekends. Now there was no looking back - I had to give the marathon a shot. My friend Greg was partly responsible for my return to running in late 2008 and after starting from near-zero running till then, he was already doing 2 laps of Miramar Lake. He proposed the Silver Strand Half Marathon that was scheduled for Nov 15th and I quickly countered that we could use that as the half-way point for the Carlsbad Marathon, a suggestion that was not received seriously.
My guide was Hal Higdon's novice training schedule, which is an 18 week training schedule for first time marathoners. Since I had already worked up to 11 miles, I jumped in at week 6. The training was going mostly according to plan with only a few hiccups - the first time I did 13, 15, and 16 miles were rather difficult, for reasons mostly relating to heat, lack of sleep, etc. As Nov 15th approached, I eased off on the runs in anticipation of the Silver Strand - my maiden half marathon. The run started well, but, around mile 6, I felt a sharp pain on the outside of my right hip which eventually migrated to the outside of my right knee. The pain was bearable, though, and I finished under 2 hours, which had been my outside goal.
But the injury had me worried - how much would it set my training back? I started regular Chiropractor visits and with careful management, I was able to get back on schedule within a couple of weeks. As I looked ahead into the schedule, I realized that our Costa Rica trip, scheduled for the third week of December would be right when I was supposed to do the long runs - 18 & 20. I decided it was better to complete those runs before the trip and indeed had very good training runs of 14, 18, and 20 in the three weekends leading up to the trip. I ran a couple of times during the trip, but they were relatively difficult which I attributed to the high humidity. However, upon my return I found that my conditioning had indeed relapsed. I stepped up the mileage in a bid to gain it back, but without having the option of doing a really long one, I would have to depend on the recalled confidence from the 20 mile run which would be 6 weeks old by the time race day arrived.
So here I was, a day before the race all nervous and anxious about what to expect. The obvious question was how I would deal with the 20+ region - a region never ventured into before. Ironically, I was actually looking forward to that, but was on tenterhooks about a dozen other concerns. I had my pasta dinner and went to bed early, but woke up around 1am with a queasy stomach. However, an Alka Seltzer seemed to help and I was able to go back to sleep soon.
On race day, I woke up easily with my 3.30am alarm and my preparations went well and I was ready when Greg showed up at 4.30. The drive up there was peaceful and I was gratified to note the abundance of porta-potties since the lines for using them right before the race is usually a stressful affair.
It was a bit cool, but clearly I could eschew all warm gear for the run. As it turned out the weather was almost perfect for the entire run. The first part of the run was going as per plan and I did the Palomar Airport Road hill without any problems. Around mile 15, Greg and I were still running together (Greg's family had shown up unexpectedly at mile 14 to cheer us on) when I slowed to a walk to have my first gel pack (I had had a Powerbar at mile 10). I was hoping to find a water station soon after, but had to wait more than a mile to find one. At this point Greg had pulled ahead and stayed ahead for the rest of the race.
Going into the race, all the concern had been about the Palomar Airport hill, but what really affected me were the several sharp climbs in the later half of the race. The climb up to mile 18 was one of them, leading up to the Southern tip of the route, La Costa Avenue. I was running alone and trying hard to ignore the low back pain that had pretty much settled in and was rather unexpected. As I crossed mile 20 and began another climb, my legs started feeling rather heavy and I really wished I had stopped to stretch. I was still under the 4 hour pace though and needed to keep going if I was going to finish that way. However, as I got past mile 21, it was becoming rather obvious that the 4 hour goal was almost gone. I tried to find a good rhythm and pound on.
Around mile 22, I heard somebody loudly call out my name and I reluctantly lifted my head to realize that it was Vito - another friend from work and a strong runner on his own accord. He had shown up to cheer us on and fell in next to me with the idea of doing a mile or so with me. He soon realized that I was struggling and decided to just stay with me all the way. It was kind of funny how that helped me - I pushed myself just a bit more almost because I didn't want to disappoint Vito, who was expressing so much confidence in my ability to finish well. Still, I took about 4 walking breaks in the last 4 miles and I almost took another one towards the end, but Vito's exhortations kept me going. As turned the final bend, I finally noticed Malini and the boys (I had expected to see them at mile 25) on the side of the road. I waved and powered on to the finish line, posting a time of 4:05, which though only 5 minutes outside my goal, left me with a slightly disappointed feeling because of how close I had come (Greg finished in 3:50).
No doubt doing the long runs so much before the race played a part, but so did my poor nutrition during the run. I had almost no protein or fiber either in the morning or during the run and realized later that I had been really hungry. In the days following the run though, I began to feel better about my effort - after all, completing 26.2 miles in 4:05 is a significant accomplishment, no matter how much better it could have been.
An insight that will surprise no one is that attempting things like these are more a mental challenge than a physical one. Indeed, the long runs are as much mental training (most folks baulk at the thought of having to run for 4 hours, let alone having the physical stamina to do so) as they are physical conditioning. Race day itself is manageable - its one day after all - most everybody can talk themselves into going out and putting out one big effort. The real challenge is the discipline to stay with the 5-month long training program - doing all the runs no matter what the situation, week after week. A big part of why I was able to do this was the support of Malini and the boys - accommodating my weekday and weekend running schedule was hard enough - the vegetable I turned into after my long weekend run just added to it. Keeping me going even as my confidence waned closer to the race was a challenge on several levels. But now I get to return the favour: I have almost talked her into doing the La Jolla Half Marathon with me.
Some stats from my training:
Number of training runs: 70
Total mileage: 470
Longest run: 20 miles (on 12/13/09, 6 weeks before marathon).
Friday, January 29, 2010
Our Microwave Handle
Our family room couch is almost 11 years old and while it has held up remarkably well, there is a big tear between one of the cushions from which some of the stuffing has been slowly coming out. Furniture shopping is about as enjoyable as pulling your nails out, but more boring. But there came a time when we agreed that it could not be put off any longer. Of course, it wasn't as simple as just getting another couch - would we have to change our end table, our coffee table? The moment you overcome the mental barrier to doing any kind of significant home improvement project is a dangerous one for any homeowner: it signals the advent of a freewheeling consideration of every other project that had been ignored either due to a lack of urgency or just plain old apathy. It was no different for us.
Ok, so we are going to get a new couch, but what about that sliding screen door? It doesn't close properly and its upstairs cousin is all torn. Maybe we should replace the whole sliding door? Oh, what about the curtains then? We had installed them about six years ago and the exposed mounting hardware had always been an eyesore. I was a bit more tolerant of them, but Malini had never really liked how the curtains had turned out. But, but, Malini goes, what I really want to fix is our garage floor. We had attempted to epoxy-coat it twice with rather indifferent results (those episodes deserve a blog of their own) - now it was a peeling, stained mess that mockingly reminded us everyday of our futile attempts to make it presentable.
So I started making some casual inquiries - a post on the 'classifieds' mailing list at work yielded some leads and also some alarm at the potential cost. Multiple home visits from various flooring, blinds, and door folks ensued and after much back-n-forth, it was decision time. Should we do it all? Or maybe just the garage floor? Or maybe just replace the couches and bide our time? Eventually, I gave into the siren song of a new and improved house and decided to do all three projects.
We lined up all the contractors and the projects mostly finished on schedule and remarkably, they were all trouble-free and almost completely satisfactory. When I think back on it, it never fails to astonish me that we did three, rather expensive home improvement projects that we had not even contemplated till we decided the couch must go. Now have new wood blinds through out the house, new glass doors upstairs and downstairs, a beautifully finished floor and cabinets (oh yes, this was another incidental addition to the project) in the garage, but the couches? Well, I put some duct tape on the tears and we are still using them.
Ok, so we are going to get a new couch, but what about that sliding screen door? It doesn't close properly and its upstairs cousin is all torn. Maybe we should replace the whole sliding door? Oh, what about the curtains then? We had installed them about six years ago and the exposed mounting hardware had always been an eyesore. I was a bit more tolerant of them, but Malini had never really liked how the curtains had turned out. But, but, Malini goes, what I really want to fix is our garage floor. We had attempted to epoxy-coat it twice with rather indifferent results (those episodes deserve a blog of their own) - now it was a peeling, stained mess that mockingly reminded us everyday of our futile attempts to make it presentable.
So I started making some casual inquiries - a post on the 'classifieds' mailing list at work yielded some leads and also some alarm at the potential cost. Multiple home visits from various flooring, blinds, and door folks ensued and after much back-n-forth, it was decision time. Should we do it all? Or maybe just the garage floor? Or maybe just replace the couches and bide our time? Eventually, I gave into the siren song of a new and improved house and decided to do all three projects.
We lined up all the contractors and the projects mostly finished on schedule and remarkably, they were all trouble-free and almost completely satisfactory. When I think back on it, it never fails to astonish me that we did three, rather expensive home improvement projects that we had not even contemplated till we decided the couch must go. Now have new wood blinds through out the house, new glass doors upstairs and downstairs, a beautifully finished floor and cabinets (oh yes, this was another incidental addition to the project) in the garage, but the couches? Well, I put some duct tape on the tears and we are still using them.
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I was feeling anxious, tense even. It was Jan 23rd, the day before the 2010 Carlsbad Marathon and I had a sense of foreboding - surely somet...
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The outing was taking longer than expected. It was the penultimate day of our short trip to Japan and Prem, Malini, and I had left early fo...