I like to think. A lot. Maybe too much.
Friends and family members always like to mention that I live in "another world". My in-laws, who speak primarily in Chinese, often like to stop mid-conversation to ask me if I understand what they're saying. My response is usually, "I wasn't listening".
Lest you think I'm being rude, it is very exhausting trying to listen to a foreign language for long periods of time. But that is not what this post is supposed to be about, so lets move on...
So, in those moments when my mind wanders, it takes me off into many directions. Sometimes they are simple thoughts like, "I wonder if I can play video games right now without my wife getting mad at me", or "How do we get the manic dog to stop barking?"
When I'm driving, I often marvel at the human brain and what it is capable of. We take for granted the complex motor skills that are required to make a simple turn. We learn the skills and practice to the point where we don't have to think any more. We think about turning and the practiced movements of our arms, feet, neck and eyes do everything for us.
I remember reading about an experiment where electrodes were placed in a monkey's brain, which transmitted signals to a robotic arm. With a little practice, the monkey could control the arm and use it almost as another limb- using the arm to grab treats and feed itself. I wonder if this skill is related to the ability to use tools that humans and monkeys have developed as an evolutionary boost.
But that is by no means the most amazing thing I've seen.
Watching a child grow is an amazing experience. It is definitely something that might make you believe in miracles. And my daughter truly is a miracle.
When she was just a few days old, I'd watch her sleeping and see the rise and fall of her chest in time with her breathing. I'd marvel at the thought of how much had to be made just right to keep that motor running. I used to have a small fear in the back of my mind that she'd suddenly stop. That sounds morbid, but I bet every parent has had the same thought at some point or another.
After all, if you really think about it, you might realize how complex the human body is. Modern science has worked tirelessly on understanding how life works, and we have only just begun. If a baby were engineered by humans, it almost certainly wouldn't work.
But my baby can not only breathe. She can see, feel, and hear. She can learn. Every moment, she observes and learns about pieces of the world around her. She practices the skills she will eventually need in order to function as a human being- all without prodding or any incentive other than her own basic need to do so.
Through years of scientific study aimed at understanding the processes my daughter has gone through, we have learned many things. In many cases, we have learned pieces of information that we already knew in some way or another. We have learned that children need love and attention in just the same way that they need food and water. We have learned time and time again that what is best for us just happens to be what nature has provided for us all along.
In my world, miracles are everywhere. They don't have to be divinely summoned to be so.
I'd better stop before I make someone throw up.
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
'Fatherhood'
The next time you know someone who just had his first baby and you want to ask a question like, "so how does it feel to be a father?"- just wait a little while. Wait until after the first few sleepless nights and diaper changes. Maybe he'll have a better idea by then.The answer: "Tired".
Or maybe you want to ask after the moment that the little stinker opens her eyes and seems to take in her surroundings for the first time. She can only see about a foot in front of her, so she'll gaze at your face incessantly before falling asleep/crying for mommy.
I still don't know how to answer the question in that case. Just look at the picture. See what I'm talking about?
There are some things that I have learned within these first few days with my daughter.
People don't grow up just because they grow older. It's the experiences we have and hardships that we endure that make us better people. People have an amazing ability to live up to expectations. Nowhere are these expectations greater than in the eyes of a child who looks to you for all aspects of her livelihood. Generation after generation of us have risen up to the challenge and everyone has benefited as a result. I suppose it's my turn now.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
My First Job
I know that everyone has a horror-story first job that they love to complain about (at least those who have worked a day in their lives). People who enjoy their work should consider themselves lucky, and those who have always enjoyed it, well, are probably just out of their minds.
Anyway, my first job was as a bag-boy at Safeway at the age of 16. We were referred to as "Courtesy Clerks", but we all knew we were bag-boys. I made 7.79 an hour, but that eventually went up to 8.39 with a couple "cost of living" pay raises (I guess they didn't know that my cost of living was ZERO).
My responsibilities were to bag groceries, sweep the floors, clean the bathrooms (sorta), and collect carts in the parking lot. Though the cart-collecting was the most physically demanding (especially during those hot summers), I eventually learned to look forward to the hours outside. Why? Because I didn't have to talk to people.
You see, those "courtesy clerks" are told to greet every customer as they bag your groceries. I don't want to point fingers, but this was often pretty difficult due to the fact that most of you don't even seem to notice that the bag-boy is there (I guess those groceries must have bagged themselves!). I basically coped by using the same canned greeting on every customer, like the street performer who only has 30 seconds worth of material (the amount of time it takes to walk past). There was one checker who liked to tease me by using the same greeting on a customer before I could, making me flustered while I try to come up with another greeting before the 2-second window has passed.
After bagging the groceries, I had to ask if the customer needed help out (always- even the body builders buying a loaf of bread). This was even more awkward from the fact that the checkers were also held to the same requirement- meaning, if you don't get offered help to your car TWICE on every trip to the grocery store, then someone isn't doing his job!
Then came the friendly canned "Have a nice day!", and in comes the next customer.
Sweeping was just as bad. Of course, having an hour when you're required to go around the store made it pretty easy to sneak off to the back room and snack on the damaged goods for ten minutes at a time. But then again, there were video cameras in the back room with feeds to the manager's office, so it was hard to get away with it (funny how the cameras are trained on the employees and not potential shoplifters).
And as you can guess, being the "sweeps" person meant you were on call for any spills that occur during your hour (anywhere- including the bathroom, which I won't get into).
But even worse was probably, again, having to talk to customers- saying hello to everyone, answering questions I didn't have answers to, and showing people where certain items were (though my guess was as good as theirs).
Here's my favorite request: "Sorry, there's no more of this item on the shelf. Can you go to the back room and see if there are any back there?"
This is what I'd do: I'd say, "Sure!", go to the back room, count to fifty, come back, shrug and say, "Sorry!".
Seriously- did you think there was another grocery store back there or something? The only products in the back room are produce and beer. Everything else comes in with the shipment late at night and pretty much goes straight to the shelf. The produce is back there because it is literally a full-time job just to wash all of it and keep it stocked in those nice little piles. I'm not sure what the beer is doing. Maybe they need a backup supply to replace all the individual bottles that mysteriously disappear from every other six-pack every Friday and Saturday night (once again- no cameras in the beer aisle as per company policy).
Oh, and for you Coors fans that insist that your beer is "as cold as the rockies" from the moment it's frost-brewed 'till the moment you drink it: The beer isn't refrigerated in the back room. It might be transported in refrigerated trucks, but I'm sure it'll warm up pretty quick sitting there. Don't worry- It'll get cold again once you put it in your fridge. The label will turn blue once its ready.
By the way, that invention is nothing short of pure, essential genius. I mean, how else would you be able to tell whether or not your beer is cold- short of, say, touching it?
Back to Safeway- Probably the worst part of the job was dealing with secret shoppers. Yes, there are people who shop at Safeway, rate the service, and report back to headquarters. The managers get pissed if we got low scores. I know what you're thinking, but no, I don't know where to go to get that job.
When I started at Safeway, the store was averaging about 9.5 out of 10 on every secret shop. Then came a 7. Then a 5. Then a 2. Then we got new managers.
Things never really improved by the time I quit.
I actually got secret-shopped on two occasions. The first time, I got a perfect score- on what's called a GAT. The acronym was used to remind employees to first GREET every customer (Hello!), ANTICIPATE their needs (Can I help you find anything?), and TAKE them to the needed item (Let me show you where it is!).
The managers loved me for about a day, but I had a sneaking suspicion. You see, I don't think I ever successfully pulled off a GAT in all of my time working there. The secret shopper must have misread someone else's nametag, or maybe some other guy named Matt worked there for a day and was transferred away or something.
The other time I was secret shopped, I got a zero. It said that I "walked passed without saying hello or making eye contact". That sounds about right.
Anyways, some good actually did come out of that job. I paid for (most of) my bassoon with that money, and had something to write about for one of my college entrance essays. I think I wrote about how it gave me a reason to go to college- so I wouldn't have to work at an unfulfilling job or some crap like that. I think I made it sound better than what I wrote here.
Maybe I actually did grow up a little there.
Heh...
Anyway, my first job was as a bag-boy at Safeway at the age of 16. We were referred to as "Courtesy Clerks", but we all knew we were bag-boys. I made 7.79 an hour, but that eventually went up to 8.39 with a couple "cost of living" pay raises (I guess they didn't know that my cost of living was ZERO).
My responsibilities were to bag groceries, sweep the floors, clean the bathrooms (sorta), and collect carts in the parking lot. Though the cart-collecting was the most physically demanding (especially during those hot summers), I eventually learned to look forward to the hours outside. Why? Because I didn't have to talk to people.
You see, those "courtesy clerks" are told to greet every customer as they bag your groceries. I don't want to point fingers, but this was often pretty difficult due to the fact that most of you don't even seem to notice that the bag-boy is there (I guess those groceries must have bagged themselves!). I basically coped by using the same canned greeting on every customer, like the street performer who only has 30 seconds worth of material (the amount of time it takes to walk past). There was one checker who liked to tease me by using the same greeting on a customer before I could, making me flustered while I try to come up with another greeting before the 2-second window has passed.
After bagging the groceries, I had to ask if the customer needed help out (always- even the body builders buying a loaf of bread). This was even more awkward from the fact that the checkers were also held to the same requirement- meaning, if you don't get offered help to your car TWICE on every trip to the grocery store, then someone isn't doing his job!
Then came the friendly canned "Have a nice day!", and in comes the next customer.
Sweeping was just as bad. Of course, having an hour when you're required to go around the store made it pretty easy to sneak off to the back room and snack on the damaged goods for ten minutes at a time. But then again, there were video cameras in the back room with feeds to the manager's office, so it was hard to get away with it (funny how the cameras are trained on the employees and not potential shoplifters).
And as you can guess, being the "sweeps" person meant you were on call for any spills that occur during your hour (anywhere- including the bathroom, which I won't get into).
But even worse was probably, again, having to talk to customers- saying hello to everyone, answering questions I didn't have answers to, and showing people where certain items were (though my guess was as good as theirs).
Here's my favorite request: "Sorry, there's no more of this item on the shelf. Can you go to the back room and see if there are any back there?"
This is what I'd do: I'd say, "Sure!", go to the back room, count to fifty, come back, shrug and say, "Sorry!".
Seriously- did you think there was another grocery store back there or something? The only products in the back room are produce and beer. Everything else comes in with the shipment late at night and pretty much goes straight to the shelf. The produce is back there because it is literally a full-time job just to wash all of it and keep it stocked in those nice little piles. I'm not sure what the beer is doing. Maybe they need a backup supply to replace all the individual bottles that mysteriously disappear from every other six-pack every Friday and Saturday night (once again- no cameras in the beer aisle as per company policy).
Oh, and for you Coors fans that insist that your beer is "as cold as the rockies" from the moment it's frost-brewed 'till the moment you drink it: The beer isn't refrigerated in the back room. It might be transported in refrigerated trucks, but I'm sure it'll warm up pretty quick sitting there. Don't worry- It'll get cold again once you put it in your fridge. The label will turn blue once its ready.
By the way, that invention is nothing short of pure, essential genius. I mean, how else would you be able to tell whether or not your beer is cold- short of, say, touching it?
Back to Safeway- Probably the worst part of the job was dealing with secret shoppers. Yes, there are people who shop at Safeway, rate the service, and report back to headquarters. The managers get pissed if we got low scores. I know what you're thinking, but no, I don't know where to go to get that job.
When I started at Safeway, the store was averaging about 9.5 out of 10 on every secret shop. Then came a 7. Then a 5. Then a 2. Then we got new managers.
Things never really improved by the time I quit.
I actually got secret-shopped on two occasions. The first time, I got a perfect score- on what's called a GAT. The acronym was used to remind employees to first GREET every customer (Hello!), ANTICIPATE their needs (Can I help you find anything?), and TAKE them to the needed item (Let me show you where it is!).
The managers loved me for about a day, but I had a sneaking suspicion. You see, I don't think I ever successfully pulled off a GAT in all of my time working there. The secret shopper must have misread someone else's nametag, or maybe some other guy named Matt worked there for a day and was transferred away or something.
The other time I was secret shopped, I got a zero. It said that I "walked passed without saying hello or making eye contact". That sounds about right.
Anyways, some good actually did come out of that job. I paid for (most of) my bassoon with that money, and had something to write about for one of my college entrance essays. I think I wrote about how it gave me a reason to go to college- so I wouldn't have to work at an unfulfilling job or some crap like that. I think I made it sound better than what I wrote here.
Maybe I actually did grow up a little there.
Heh...
'Lost Wages'
Nothing serves as a reminder of the fact that you have grown older quite like when things don't look the same as when you first saw them. Maybe I'm a little young to be talking like this, but it is something that enters my head every time I end up in Las Vegas.
The first time I remember going to Vegas, I was young and on a family vacation visiting relatives, staying at Circus Circus. Maybe it's more my young age at the time than anything else, but I remember how the building seemed to tower above everything else around it. From the hotel room, there was a view of Las Vegas in its entirety- I felt like I was on top of the world.
Ever since then, it seems like there's been a newer, bigger hotel/casino coming up every time I'm back. The old casinos that used to dominate the skyline are diminutive compared to the new ones that sprout up like mushrooms.
The last time I was in Vegas, it was for only a day and hardly to have fun. I looked out the window in the top floor of Treasure Island onto a vastly different sight from that of my childhood. First of all, the view was completely dominated by one building- a gigantic gold-plated behemoth with the word "TRUMP" written in block letters on top. It was like a symbol of Las Vegas excess.
So, here's a question for you: Short men go to the gym to bulk up. Those less endowed in certain areas are apt to buy nice cars. So what sort of secret could possibly be so severe that Donald Trump would require that much compensation?
Anyways, after getting over the daze brought on by the Trump tower, I started to look for other landmarks. And there it was- Circus Circus. It was tiny- like the casino that dwarfs would call 'shrimp'. It could have been your friendly neighborhood mom 'n pop hotel- in a "Drive down main street and take a right after the hardware store" kind of neighborhood. That's how pathetic the building looked compared to the new shiny hotels that litter the skyline.
...Kinda like watching an old, washed-up ballplayer (*cough* Brett Favre).
But Circus Circus was never that great, anyway (threw too many interceptions).
Anyway, back to Vegas- I've seen several articles online within the past few months with titles that go something like, "5 Recession-proof Industries". They talk about industries like health-care which tend to do just as well, or even better when the economy takes a downturn. I wonder if we should add the gambling industry to that list.
Why? Well, maybe the growth of Las Vegas is proof enough. Of course, all those new shiny casinos probably had their finances in order since long before this downturn, but I still don't see how they can continue to fill those rooms. Why would people be so keen on throwing their money away when its already hard to come by? Do they actually expect to MAKE money this way?
Or maybe the casinos are being supported by laid-off wall-street traders who need other avenues to fulfill their gambling fix now that they can't do it at work anymore?
...Just a thought
The first time I remember going to Vegas, I was young and on a family vacation visiting relatives, staying at Circus Circus. Maybe it's more my young age at the time than anything else, but I remember how the building seemed to tower above everything else around it. From the hotel room, there was a view of Las Vegas in its entirety- I felt like I was on top of the world.
Ever since then, it seems like there's been a newer, bigger hotel/casino coming up every time I'm back. The old casinos that used to dominate the skyline are diminutive compared to the new ones that sprout up like mushrooms.
The last time I was in Vegas, it was for only a day and hardly to have fun. I looked out the window in the top floor of Treasure Island onto a vastly different sight from that of my childhood. First of all, the view was completely dominated by one building- a gigantic gold-plated behemoth with the word "TRUMP" written in block letters on top. It was like a symbol of Las Vegas excess.
So, here's a question for you: Short men go to the gym to bulk up. Those less endowed in certain areas are apt to buy nice cars. So what sort of secret could possibly be so severe that Donald Trump would require that much compensation?
Anyways, after getting over the daze brought on by the Trump tower, I started to look for other landmarks. And there it was- Circus Circus. It was tiny- like the casino that dwarfs would call 'shrimp'. It could have been your friendly neighborhood mom 'n pop hotel- in a "Drive down main street and take a right after the hardware store" kind of neighborhood. That's how pathetic the building looked compared to the new shiny hotels that litter the skyline.
...Kinda like watching an old, washed-up ballplayer (*cough* Brett Favre).
But Circus Circus was never that great, anyway (threw too many interceptions).
Anyway, back to Vegas- I've seen several articles online within the past few months with titles that go something like, "5 Recession-proof Industries". They talk about industries like health-care which tend to do just as well, or even better when the economy takes a downturn. I wonder if we should add the gambling industry to that list.
Why? Well, maybe the growth of Las Vegas is proof enough. Of course, all those new shiny casinos probably had their finances in order since long before this downturn, but I still don't see how they can continue to fill those rooms. Why would people be so keen on throwing their money away when its already hard to come by? Do they actually expect to MAKE money this way?
Or maybe the casinos are being supported by laid-off wall-street traders who need other avenues to fulfill their gambling fix now that they can't do it at work anymore?
...Just a thought
Thursday, April 23, 2009
I'm a music snob
Have you seen that e-surance commercial with the guy singing and playing guitar? Well, I've seen it one time too many, and I've decided I'm never EVER going to buy anything from that company, and here's why:
So, the commercial starts with the cartoon guy on a stage, and he starts singing. Next to him is that pink-haired cartoon lady playing the tambourine. In the middle of the commercial, the tambourine goes away for a period of time, and when it comes back, it comes back ON THE WRONG BEATS!!!
By wrong beats, I mean one and three, as opposed to two and four. A jazz drummer mixing up two and four with one and three is enough to turn John Coltrane into Barney the dinosaur. Two and four makes for an uptempo swing. One and three- a polka. Most people might not notice these things, but it drives me crazy.
I once saw a performance on TV of a Bernstein piece titled "Prelude, Fugue, and Rifts" played by some famous European orchestra and conducted by the great Simon Rattle. What I managed to catch while flipping through channels was the "Rifts" section, which was obviously a classical composer's attempt at writing a jazz piece for orchestra. I hated it.
Here's why: What was supposed to be a major orchestra's attempt at playing swing really just turned out to be a bunch of old stodgy Europeans playing triplet rhythms. So whats the difference?... Two and four. Not even Simon Rattle got it right.
Of course, I don't mean that jazz influences don't work in classical music. I think Gershwin was a genius in finding that sweet spot where they blend in just the right way.
I know that I tend to be opinionated on certain matters and that people often disagree with me. I don't like to flaunt my ideas, but I do find a source of pride in having opinions that differ from the mainstream.
For example- I hate Brahms. I don't like to listen to him, nor do I think he's the musical genius that most who study music will say he is. Yes, he has written things that are quite pretty- I would recommend the German Requiem. I just don't think that he has contributed anything groundbreaking; his symphonies are insufferable, and to top it off- his orchestration is appalling. Just listen to some of his contemporaries- like Tchaikovsky, whose music is better in every way. Tchaikovsky was dramatic and original. Brahms was just Beethoven all over again.
I understand that Mozart was a genius, but don't know why anyone would actually enjoy his music today. Mozart's music is leagues ahead of what came before him, but there is music that came after him that sounds so much better.
So, maybe you don't enjoy Stravinsky quite as much as I do. I know that the music I listen to isn't for everyone (maybe just the better ones).
But of course, I'm not the only snob out there when it comes to music. We all think that we could be judges on American Idol. We sit in front of our TV screens in pleasure, watching a group of monkeys perform and beg for the votes that we're not going to give them. We all have our favorites- we cheer them on until the show ends and we don't buy their albums.
But what I love most about music opinions is the fact that we're still allowed to have them and disagree. These days, you can still name off your favorite bands without the fear of someone snapping at your throat. They might disagree or call you a dork, but they still won't angrily recount your conversation to like-minded friends afterward.
But when it comes to politics....
I'm not sure what point I'm trying to make here.
So, the commercial starts with the cartoon guy on a stage, and he starts singing. Next to him is that pink-haired cartoon lady playing the tambourine. In the middle of the commercial, the tambourine goes away for a period of time, and when it comes back, it comes back ON THE WRONG BEATS!!!
By wrong beats, I mean one and three, as opposed to two and four. A jazz drummer mixing up two and four with one and three is enough to turn John Coltrane into Barney the dinosaur. Two and four makes for an uptempo swing. One and three- a polka. Most people might not notice these things, but it drives me crazy.
I once saw a performance on TV of a Bernstein piece titled "Prelude, Fugue, and Rifts" played by some famous European orchestra and conducted by the great Simon Rattle. What I managed to catch while flipping through channels was the "Rifts" section, which was obviously a classical composer's attempt at writing a jazz piece for orchestra. I hated it.
Here's why: What was supposed to be a major orchestra's attempt at playing swing really just turned out to be a bunch of old stodgy Europeans playing triplet rhythms. So whats the difference?... Two and four. Not even Simon Rattle got it right.
Of course, I don't mean that jazz influences don't work in classical music. I think Gershwin was a genius in finding that sweet spot where they blend in just the right way.
I know that I tend to be opinionated on certain matters and that people often disagree with me. I don't like to flaunt my ideas, but I do find a source of pride in having opinions that differ from the mainstream.
For example- I hate Brahms. I don't like to listen to him, nor do I think he's the musical genius that most who study music will say he is. Yes, he has written things that are quite pretty- I would recommend the German Requiem. I just don't think that he has contributed anything groundbreaking; his symphonies are insufferable, and to top it off- his orchestration is appalling. Just listen to some of his contemporaries- like Tchaikovsky, whose music is better in every way. Tchaikovsky was dramatic and original. Brahms was just Beethoven all over again.
I understand that Mozart was a genius, but don't know why anyone would actually enjoy his music today. Mozart's music is leagues ahead of what came before him, but there is music that came after him that sounds so much better.
So, maybe you don't enjoy Stravinsky quite as much as I do. I know that the music I listen to isn't for everyone (maybe just the better ones).
But of course, I'm not the only snob out there when it comes to music. We all think that we could be judges on American Idol. We sit in front of our TV screens in pleasure, watching a group of monkeys perform and beg for the votes that we're not going to give them. We all have our favorites- we cheer them on until the show ends and we don't buy their albums.
But what I love most about music opinions is the fact that we're still allowed to have them and disagree. These days, you can still name off your favorite bands without the fear of someone snapping at your throat. They might disagree or call you a dork, but they still won't angrily recount your conversation to like-minded friends afterward.
But when it comes to politics....
I'm not sure what point I'm trying to make here.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Risk/Reward
Much has been said of the mistakes that teenagers make. The prevailing idea is that teenagers generally don't think about the consequences of their actions before doing something stupid that gets them in trouble. Studies, however, have shown that not only are teenagers aware of the risks behind their actions, they actually spend a considerable amount of time weighing the risks vs. perceived rewards before finally making their (bad) decision. Here's an example of what might go through their heads:
Action: Going to a party, getting drunk, and driving home afterward.
Risk: Might be grounded/get arrested/kill somebody.
Reward: Social acceptance/pretty popular girl might actually talk to me.
Verdict: Party on!!!
I've observed that this sort of risky behavior may start much earlier than the teenage years. Here's an example from my observations of the three-year old twin boys I talked about in my last post:
During a holiday gathering, these twin boys found themselves standing around a bowl of peanuts and decided to have an extended snack before dinner was served. Not wanting the boys to spoil their appetites, several adults told them to stop eating, yet they still continued, saying, "but I have to eat it!". To get them to stop, their great-grandfather decided to make up a story. He told them that if they ate any more, the big scary dog who was staring in from beyond the sliding glass door would charge in and eat them up.
There was no doubt that the boys believed everything that was said to them. You could see fear in their faces every time they tentatively turned their heads to glance at the dog, assuring themselves that the glass door was securely fastened before turning back around and grabbing more peanuts to put in their mouths. So here's what probably went through their heads:
Action: Eating peanuts.
Risk: Dog might eat me.
Reward: I'd get to eat more peanuts.
Verdict: Eat more peanuts.
Perhaps this sort of risky behavior has a purpose. After all, early man would have had a hard time evolving without taking a few risks. Here's another example:
Action: Forsaking life in a tree and stepping around on the ground.
Risk: Bear might eat me.
Reward: I'd finally get to see what's beyond that bush over there.
Verdict: Walking on four legs is SO last millennium!
Of course, risky behavior will ruin us every now and then. Here's what probably went through the mind of more than one AIG employee:
Action: High-risk credit swap.
Risk: Might default- company loses millions/people lose jobs/economy pulled into downward spiral.
Reward: Company stock goes up by a cent/big bonus.
Verdict: What could possibly go wrong? The government will bail us out if this backfires, anyway.
Action: Going to a party, getting drunk, and driving home afterward.
Risk: Might be grounded/get arrested/kill somebody.
Reward: Social acceptance/pretty popular girl might actually talk to me.
Verdict: Party on!!!
I've observed that this sort of risky behavior may start much earlier than the teenage years. Here's an example from my observations of the three-year old twin boys I talked about in my last post:
During a holiday gathering, these twin boys found themselves standing around a bowl of peanuts and decided to have an extended snack before dinner was served. Not wanting the boys to spoil their appetites, several adults told them to stop eating, yet they still continued, saying, "but I have to eat it!". To get them to stop, their great-grandfather decided to make up a story. He told them that if they ate any more, the big scary dog who was staring in from beyond the sliding glass door would charge in and eat them up.
There was no doubt that the boys believed everything that was said to them. You could see fear in their faces every time they tentatively turned their heads to glance at the dog, assuring themselves that the glass door was securely fastened before turning back around and grabbing more peanuts to put in their mouths. So here's what probably went through their heads:
Action: Eating peanuts.
Risk: Dog might eat me.
Reward: I'd get to eat more peanuts.
Verdict: Eat more peanuts.
Perhaps this sort of risky behavior has a purpose. After all, early man would have had a hard time evolving without taking a few risks. Here's another example:
Action: Forsaking life in a tree and stepping around on the ground.
Risk: Bear might eat me.
Reward: I'd finally get to see what's beyond that bush over there.
Verdict: Walking on four legs is SO last millennium!
Of course, risky behavior will ruin us every now and then. Here's what probably went through the mind of more than one AIG employee:
Action: High-risk credit swap.
Risk: Might default- company loses millions/people lose jobs/economy pulled into downward spiral.
Reward: Company stock goes up by a cent/big bonus.
Verdict: What could possibly go wrong? The government will bail us out if this backfires, anyway.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
I'm a geek
Yes, I am a geek. I'm sure you all knew this fact- especially if you've read some of my earlier posts. I'm aware that the fact that I study physics (and enjoy it) is enough to include me in that category.
Let me share with you the moment that I realized that I was a true geek. I suppose I knew it long before, but this is the first time that the fact really hit home.
The moment came when I was watching the movie Spiderman II. If you're familiar with the story, you know that Spiderman's alter ego, Peter Parker, is also a geek. Now you see, in a movie it's not enough to tell the viewers that Spiderman is a nerd, you have to show it. And what better way to show that the story's superhero is just a supernerd is there than to show him in a lecture hall, completely infatuated with the strange symbols written on the board by an old balding nerd of a professor.
If you saw the movie, this short scene probably made you think, "wow, that guy is a geek!" However, the thought that popped into MY head was, "Hey! We just covered that material last week in Quantum Mechanics!"
Wow! I'm just as nerdy as Spiderman!!!
Now all I need is a radioactive spider....
Of course, not all depictions of geeks in motion pictures are quite as flattering as Spiderman. I must say, however, that I still enjoy watching them- but not for the reasons you might enjoy them.
Let me give another example to illustrate. This one comes from the movie Transformers. I've never actually seen the movie, but a friend told me about this scene and it had me practically rolling on the floor with laughter. The scene goes something like this:
Two nerdy scientists are in a lab, and one turns to the other and says, in a British accent: "Why don't you STOP thinking about Fourier transforms and START thinking about Quantum Mechanics?!"
Now, you might not think that this sentence is particularly funny, but my friend and I both did, and for the same reason. You see, whoever wrote this stupid dialogue obviously has no idea what the terms 'Fourier transform' and 'Quantum Mechanics' even mean. If you are intimately familiar with these two terms, you would know that no scientist sitting in a lab would ever utter that sentence.
This sort of dialogue is the kind that I hear all the time in movies and on tv. It's the kind of dialogue that just screams, "this is the smartest sounding sentence that the writer could come up with".
It just goes to show that while you're making fun of nerds for their lack of athletic ability and social grace, they're probably making fun of you for being an idiot.
Let me share with you the moment that I realized that I was a true geek. I suppose I knew it long before, but this is the first time that the fact really hit home.
The moment came when I was watching the movie Spiderman II. If you're familiar with the story, you know that Spiderman's alter ego, Peter Parker, is also a geek. Now you see, in a movie it's not enough to tell the viewers that Spiderman is a nerd, you have to show it. And what better way to show that the story's superhero is just a supernerd is there than to show him in a lecture hall, completely infatuated with the strange symbols written on the board by an old balding nerd of a professor.
If you saw the movie, this short scene probably made you think, "wow, that guy is a geek!" However, the thought that popped into MY head was, "Hey! We just covered that material last week in Quantum Mechanics!"
Wow! I'm just as nerdy as Spiderman!!!
Now all I need is a radioactive spider....
Of course, not all depictions of geeks in motion pictures are quite as flattering as Spiderman. I must say, however, that I still enjoy watching them- but not for the reasons you might enjoy them.
Let me give another example to illustrate. This one comes from the movie Transformers. I've never actually seen the movie, but a friend told me about this scene and it had me practically rolling on the floor with laughter. The scene goes something like this:
Two nerdy scientists are in a lab, and one turns to the other and says, in a British accent: "Why don't you STOP thinking about Fourier transforms and START thinking about Quantum Mechanics?!"
Now, you might not think that this sentence is particularly funny, but my friend and I both did, and for the same reason. You see, whoever wrote this stupid dialogue obviously has no idea what the terms 'Fourier transform' and 'Quantum Mechanics' even mean. If you are intimately familiar with these two terms, you would know that no scientist sitting in a lab would ever utter that sentence.
This sort of dialogue is the kind that I hear all the time in movies and on tv. It's the kind of dialogue that just screams, "this is the smartest sounding sentence that the writer could come up with".
It just goes to show that while you're making fun of nerds for their lack of athletic ability and social grace, they're probably making fun of you for being an idiot.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
'Math Tutor'
I'm currently working as a math tutor. I can't say I'm the best at what I'm doing, but I think I have one thing to brag about to others who have tutored in the past.
You see, there are some people who can teach a kindergartener how to add and subtract. Other people are good at teaching higher maths like calculus to high schoolers.
I, on the other hand, have done both......AT THE SAME TIME!!
Imagine this: I'm sitting at a table in collared shirt and tie. Across from me to the left is just about the cutest 5-year old girl you've ever seen, working on addition and subtraction problems I made up for her. To the right is an 11th grader doing calculus problems. Here's a sample interaction:
".....so, if there are three frogs on a log and two more hop on, NOW how many do you have?"
".....five?"
"GOOD!!!! Now, can you work on these next few problems?"
"...ok....."
(turn)
"Alright, so.....To do this integral, it's probably easiest to use this substitution....."
The place where I work likes to do individualized tutoring, but keeps the cost down by having up to three students per tutor at a time. Tutors are supposed to keep the kids busy by assigning problems during the class period and dividing up the one-on-one time. As you can imagine, it's not usually that simple.
One thing I found strange is that they specifically asked whether I was more comfortable teaching math or verbal, but never asked about what age groups I was comfortable with.
Well, I suppose they did ask me if I could teach kids, but it was after they hired me, and besides, what was I supposed to say?
...Not that I'm bad with kids or anything.
You see, there are some people who can teach a kindergartener how to add and subtract. Other people are good at teaching higher maths like calculus to high schoolers.
I, on the other hand, have done both......AT THE SAME TIME!!
Imagine this: I'm sitting at a table in collared shirt and tie. Across from me to the left is just about the cutest 5-year old girl you've ever seen, working on addition and subtraction problems I made up for her. To the right is an 11th grader doing calculus problems. Here's a sample interaction:
".....so, if there are three frogs on a log and two more hop on, NOW how many do you have?"
".....five?"
"GOOD!!!! Now, can you work on these next few problems?"
"...ok....."
(turn)
"Alright, so.....To do this integral, it's probably easiest to use this substitution....."
The place where I work likes to do individualized tutoring, but keeps the cost down by having up to three students per tutor at a time. Tutors are supposed to keep the kids busy by assigning problems during the class period and dividing up the one-on-one time. As you can imagine, it's not usually that simple.
One thing I found strange is that they specifically asked whether I was more comfortable teaching math or verbal, but never asked about what age groups I was comfortable with.
Well, I suppose they did ask me if I could teach kids, but it was after they hired me, and besides, what was I supposed to say?
...Not that I'm bad with kids or anything.
Monday, February 9, 2009
What I don't like about physics
One of the first things my wife ever asked me was the question, "Why do you like physics?" I don't think I ever answered that question for her- or at least not directly. After all, I don't think I really had a good answer back then.
The reason I chose to study physics was pretty simple: I felt that I was good at it. I chose to study physics while taking an advanced placement physics course in high school with my older brother. The classroom was filled with some of the smartest kids in school, many of whom were struggling pathetically- asking stupid questions with obviously no clue as to how to do any of the problems. I don't mean to brag, but I slept through class every other day and aced pretty much every test. Yes, I suppose I must be a genius, and that's just me being modest.
But, the question my wife asked was "Why do you like physics?", which requires a different answer entirely. I think I have a much better idea today than I did way back then, but it is still a question that I am hesitant to answer.
After all, when was the last time you heard someone say the phrase "I love physics" without having to wonder how long it has been since he last brushed his teeth?....or at least wonder how many hours he spends leveling up his elven rogue. I also feel that people who talk about physics a lot do so under the impression that people are impressed by it. Take the following conversation:
"So, what's your major?"
"Physics"
"Oh Really?!!!...........You must be really smart!"
Yeah, so you may think that the person in the conversation above is impressed with my intellectual mastery, but if you could see the facial expressions that accompany the dialogue, you would probably have a different idea. Lets revisit the above conversation, but instead here's what the people involved are actually thinking:
"So, what's your major?"
"Physics"
"Oh Really?!!!...........Why would you do that to yourself?"
"I suppose our conversation is over, huh?"
"Yeah.....So what level is your elven rogue?"
In college I learned to hate that conversation. Nevertheless, I'm still going to try to answer that question that my wife asked so long ago. Just keep in mind that physicists can still be cool. Richard Feynman is proof.
I've been typing for a while, and its late so maybe I'll do it later.
The reason I chose to study physics was pretty simple: I felt that I was good at it. I chose to study physics while taking an advanced placement physics course in high school with my older brother. The classroom was filled with some of the smartest kids in school, many of whom were struggling pathetically- asking stupid questions with obviously no clue as to how to do any of the problems. I don't mean to brag, but I slept through class every other day and aced pretty much every test. Yes, I suppose I must be a genius, and that's just me being modest.
But, the question my wife asked was "Why do you like physics?", which requires a different answer entirely. I think I have a much better idea today than I did way back then, but it is still a question that I am hesitant to answer.
After all, when was the last time you heard someone say the phrase "I love physics" without having to wonder how long it has been since he last brushed his teeth?....or at least wonder how many hours he spends leveling up his elven rogue. I also feel that people who talk about physics a lot do so under the impression that people are impressed by it. Take the following conversation:
"So, what's your major?"
"Physics"
"Oh Really?!!!...........You must be really smart!"
Yeah, so you may think that the person in the conversation above is impressed with my intellectual mastery, but if you could see the facial expressions that accompany the dialogue, you would probably have a different idea. Lets revisit the above conversation, but instead here's what the people involved are actually thinking:
"So, what's your major?"
"Physics"
"Oh Really?!!!...........Why would you do that to yourself?"
"I suppose our conversation is over, huh?"
"Yeah.....So what level is your elven rogue?"
In college I learned to hate that conversation. Nevertheless, I'm still going to try to answer that question that my wife asked so long ago. Just keep in mind that physicists can still be cool. Richard Feynman is proof.
I've been typing for a while, and its late so maybe I'll do it later.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
'Adulthood'
I've wondered for the past few years about how much the concept of 'adulthood' is just a front. As kids, we all looked at our parents, teachers, and others who were significantly larger than we were as if they were something great. Adulthood was an eternity away, and those who had reached it were full of experiences and knowledge beyond our comprehension. Adults could answer every question and solve every problem. They spent their time doing 'important' things that we were unfit to do. They hardly laughed, and when they did it was over things that we didn't understand. They never made mistakes.
As a kid I thought that children and adults lied in completely separate categories, as though there was a line drawn somewhere that was used to distinguish between the two. In my head, there was an age that someone reached, or a test that someone took, that once passed, would mark the exact time when a child had become an adult- complete with all the attributes and abilities that I thought all adults had.
But now is the time when I have to challenge this idea of 'Adulthood'. I am continuously faced with the question: "Am I an adult yet?" I do not think there is a real answer, but I still ask.
Of course, a government or religion can give a definition of what an adult is, but they are usually too simple to agree with the preconceptions that I've carried over from my grade school years.
Maybe I ask the question because I find myself in situations that bring it up. Like, for example, when I go searching for a job (a very adult-like activity), and the following conversation comes up:
"Excuse me, are you currently hiring teachers?"
"Maybe...........who's applying?"
"Me"
"You?.........Really?"
"Yes......I have a B.A. from UC Berkeley, and teaching experience."
"REALLY?..........But you look so young!!"
Things are generally much worse when the facts come out that: 1. I'm married, and 2. We're expecting a kid in a few months.
...which brings me to perhaps the real reason that I'm writing on this topic.
I play video games. I watch cartoons. I have a weekly ritual every Thursday night when I wait for the next Naruto issue to appear online and read it as fast as I can (sometimes getting enormously disappointed when it doesn't come). Although I still feel pretty 'adult' in some aspects, I'm sure that these are just some of the things that are ruining the image I described above. I don't feel that I will ever be an 'adult', so long as it is defined in the way that I thought it was when I was a kid.
Yet I still can't shake the idea that adults are supposed to be like in the picture I described. When I think of how I saw my parents and teachers as a child, I still feel that I will never reach the example that they have set for me. Am I just that childish?
Or, there is the other scenario, which is both liberating and somewhat disturbing: Maybe no one really grows up. Maybe they hold onto their childish tendencies, hiding them in front of onlookers in order to keep up the image. I wonder if the adults from my childhood still secretly laughed at fart jokes and did stupid things from time to time. I wonder if I'll have to maintain the front in front of my kids in a few years... or maybe I'll get to read Naruto with them.
As a kid I thought that children and adults lied in completely separate categories, as though there was a line drawn somewhere that was used to distinguish between the two. In my head, there was an age that someone reached, or a test that someone took, that once passed, would mark the exact time when a child had become an adult- complete with all the attributes and abilities that I thought all adults had.
But now is the time when I have to challenge this idea of 'Adulthood'. I am continuously faced with the question: "Am I an adult yet?" I do not think there is a real answer, but I still ask.
Of course, a government or religion can give a definition of what an adult is, but they are usually too simple to agree with the preconceptions that I've carried over from my grade school years.
Maybe I ask the question because I find myself in situations that bring it up. Like, for example, when I go searching for a job (a very adult-like activity), and the following conversation comes up:
"Excuse me, are you currently hiring teachers?"
"Maybe...........who's applying?"
"Me"
"You?.........Really?"
"Yes......I have a B.A. from UC Berkeley, and teaching experience."
"REALLY?..........But you look so young!!"
Things are generally much worse when the facts come out that: 1. I'm married, and 2. We're expecting a kid in a few months.
...which brings me to perhaps the real reason that I'm writing on this topic.
I play video games. I watch cartoons. I have a weekly ritual every Thursday night when I wait for the next Naruto issue to appear online and read it as fast as I can (sometimes getting enormously disappointed when it doesn't come). Although I still feel pretty 'adult' in some aspects, I'm sure that these are just some of the things that are ruining the image I described above. I don't feel that I will ever be an 'adult', so long as it is defined in the way that I thought it was when I was a kid.
Yet I still can't shake the idea that adults are supposed to be like in the picture I described. When I think of how I saw my parents and teachers as a child, I still feel that I will never reach the example that they have set for me. Am I just that childish?
Or, there is the other scenario, which is both liberating and somewhat disturbing: Maybe no one really grows up. Maybe they hold onto their childish tendencies, hiding them in front of onlookers in order to keep up the image. I wonder if the adults from my childhood still secretly laughed at fart jokes and did stupid things from time to time. I wonder if I'll have to maintain the front in front of my kids in a few years... or maybe I'll get to read Naruto with them.
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