Death Valley Days

Got back early yesterday morning from three days in Death Valley with Merritt and others. The wildflowers were in full bloom, which is unusual and short-lived in this desolate area.

Day One was an exploration into Forge Canyon, where we were the first party to ever descend it. (Canyoneers call this a "First Descent" and as you might expect, it's rather rare.) It was a lot of fun, as we never knew what to expect and had to construct a natural anchor at each of the 12 rappels. I really enjoyed the challenges of deciding how to anchor each rap, then moving rocks around when necessary. My favorite part of canyoneering is solving problems with anchors, rappels, route-finding or downclimbing. With a first descent there is also a sense of mystery and discovery, and of course we had to pack plenty of extra rope and emergency equipment to prepare for unknown contingencies. I was very grateful we had this opportunity to join the group, led by Rick Kent, who has done first descents on many of the Death Valley canyons.

Day Two was another exploration of sorts into Scottie's Canyon, much of which had been hiked from the bottom but with no descents that we were aware of. Seven of us hiked up a mountain, stopping to explore the remains of an old mining operation, including a few standing buildings. As we approached the summit of our hike before dropping in the canyon the wind started picking up, almost knocking me over while we climbed the faint trail. Once we dropped in, the wind reached hurricane levels as it stormed up the canyon, gaining incredible force. One gust literally pushed three of us uncontrollably about 15 feet, knocking over two women. I'm not experienced in these matters, but I'm guessing 70 mph or more. Walking over to the first rap I looked down and it was like a wind tunnel blasting up at me--really quite frightening. After about an hour of waiting, debating and soul-searching we reluctantly headed back, realizing that we didn't know what was ahead of us and the winds would make rappeling and downclimbing on the descent potentially dangerous. The rest of the group headed home and Merritt and I hiked up Scottie's from the bottom, taking on a few sporty climbs that were exposed enough to make me uncomfortable, although Merritt handled them quite well.

On the third day Merritt and I descended Coffin Canyon. I had done this canyon a year ago, but from the top, which involves a car shuttle and at least five miles of slogging through sand and gravel. This time we planned on approaching from the bottom. In the past this has been done through the Copper Canyon entrance, but unfortunately that was closed due to a recent fossil find. The Park Service recommended an alternate route which their people had scouted out and left cairns. We decided to take it, especially since getting caught in Copper Canyon would result in a $5000 fine.

Unfortunately, the new approach was very difficult and involved a lot of clamboring on all fours up steep slopes with loose scree and gravel or crumbly hand-holds. Many times I felt dangerously close to a long and uncontrolled slide back down with unsavory implications. To make it worse, we discovered that the cairns were set in unusual places, not necessarily marking a trail but rather at high points in the general vicinity of the trail. (We discovered this when we precariously scrambled to one of them only to find a lone peak with no exit except the way we had just come. That was my least favorite moment of the trip!)

Finally we dropped into Coffin and enjoyed this lovely canyon, which includes a 185-foot rappel that seems like about 400'--definitely a sobering drop. Also there's one rap that goes from above to below sea level, which is kind of interesting. Afterwards I dropped Merritt off at the Las Vegas airport and drove home. I hit the wall about 11 p.m. and had to pull over and sleep a few hours, then woke up and arrived home about 3 a.m.

It was a fun trip in a big, desolate and generally unfriendly country. It once again makes me appreciate the incredible diversity in our natural world.

Photos from Luke

Vita Brevis

I couldn't help but feeling a little sad today. This morning I attended the funeral of Newell Stevenson, our stake patriarch and a truly wonderful human being who passed away at 88 years old. The funeral was short and sweet because, according to his son, a week before he died Newell told him that if the funeral ran more than an hour he was going to get up and leave. I guess no one wanted to call his bluff!

This evening I attended a viewing for Terry Crowther, a friend from Park City who passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack. He was only 61. Terry and I served together at church in Park City and I always enjoyed his company and appreciated his friendship. After he moved to Salt Lake City we still spoke occasionally on the phone or got together for lunch. He was the first person that told me about Redmond Minerals, where he worked for the past eight years or so. He loved it there, and I could feel his enthusiasm and pride as he talked about the company, extolling its virtues. Terry had a heart of gold. He was instrumental in getting Merritt his job at Redmond, when he responded to an email I sent out asking if anyone had need of an intern. Terry also had an unusual family situation. He was divorced, but stayed in very close contact with his ex-wife and, in fact, considered her his best friend. It was a pleasure to meet her and his daughter at the viewing tonight, as well as other members of his family.

All this on St. Patrick's Day, which always makes me think about my Dad (Farley). I wore the sweater and tie I bought when we were in Ireland, which I do every year in his memory. All day I was reminded that this life is short and we must someday say good-bye to all of our loved ones.

I look forward to seeing them all again.

Killing Time at Borders

I.
Just the thought
Makes me slink in shame;
Thinking of what Thoreau said
In his condescending way:
“As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.”
This while he sat nights
Under the lamplight
Scribbling in his ledger,
Accounting for each penny
Spent remodeling his shack.
He thought it was idyllic.
I might prefer the Irish wit:
“When God made time, he made plenty of it.”
I think my ancestors would have
Been charmed by Thoreau;
Spending their meager shillings
Buying one another pints.

II.
The sharp young man wore a tie
To make a good impression.
He answers the man's questions,
Taking pains to mention
All his worthy points
As if by accident.
He has an easy manner for his age;
With only a trace of stagecraft.
He is enthusiastic
And full of youthful energy
While still sounding almost professional;
And almost experienced.
He will almost get the job, I realize
As the interviewer feigns interest.
Maybe tomorrow
He will wear his tie again.

III.
How are these ladies connected?
One in her 40’s and the other barely 20.
Aunt and niece perhaps?
Or co-workers maybe,
Which often makes strange bedfellows—
Or their female equivalents.
The younger talks about herself.
The older gives advice.
They speak in a synchronous flow
Reciting a litany of crises and dilemmas—
Matched by solemn admonitions
With no room for debate.
They pretend to listen politely
While each awaits her turn.
It is a practiced art; a quiet opera
Over coffee and rolls in the afternoon.


IV.
So there we sit.
The five of us together,
Yet comfortably separate;
Me looking rapt
At my book on Templar Knights
Picked frivolously from the shelf:
Warrior monks protecting pilgrims
As they journeyed to Jerusalem.
But the Knights don't interest me
As much as the conversations,
So I alternate my attention,
Giving each equal time
While picking at my muffin;
No better or worse than Thoreau,
Who lived so well he felt
The need to write a book about it.

Twitter Birth

We kept abreast of the developments of Merritt and Stacie's home birth last night via Twitter, which was pretty cool. Here are the transcripts and approximate times of Merritt's Tweets:

8:42 p.m. Email: Good chance Stacie will give birth sometime tonight. If you want updates, follow us on twitter: @alphanumerritt @StacieJo
~8:50 p.m. I think MJ will be the only one sleeping at our house tonight
~9:00 p.m. Had some friends over for dinner. Stacie was amazingly composed despite contractions every 5-10 min. As soon as they left, it intensified.
~9:00 p.m. ..kind of like her body responded to the demands of her environment, very darwinian
~9:20 p.m. contractions less than 4 min apart
~9:30 p.m. midwife says she's coming over, though stacie seems to be doing fine and progressing normally (to me, anyway)
~9:35 p.m. we're betting on a 1:30am birth
~9:40 p.m. she seems to be progressing fairly quickly, well under 3 minutes in between contractions
~9:45 p.m. smooth music going, dim lighting, hot tub filled with warm water: we should have more dates with this kind of ambiance!
~9:50 p.m. this is actually pretty cool - very low stress and coke zeros just a fridge door away
~10:00 p.m. looks like there's going to be a healthy dose of back labor involved, means I'll be working the massage and pressure to the lower back
~10:45 p.m. no midwife yet, she should be here any minute, though now I kind of wish she wouldn't show up for a while
~11:29 p.m. water broke - I was peeing at the time but stacie decided she needed the toilet more, I agreed
~11:30 p.m. (too much detail?)
~11:45 p.m. no fun and games now, birthing ball (aka exercise ball) comes to the rescue again!
~12:15 a.m. things are pretty intense at the moment
~12:30 a.m. lots of moaning like a banshee, not to transition yet, but things are movin
~12:40 a.m. updates expected to be less frequent from here on out
12:50 a.m. "I'm doing whatever feels good...I think I'm pushing." -Stacie
1:08 a.m. time of birth 1:01 am, she's big and beautiful, came out singing to the music
1:08 a.m. five min of pushing
1:17 a.m. that was pretty surreal
1:17 a.m. mom and baby look and feel great!
1:20 a.m. minimal mess
1:30 a.m. we're fans of homebirth, so much more relaxing before, during, and after

Photo Scavenger Hunt

I put together a photo scavenger hunt for Sam and his friends yesterday as a prom day activity. There were two teams of four, each in one car. The items are listed below, which they photographed with their cell phones. Both teams did really well. The winning team (Sam's) got 22 of the 25 items in about 90 minutes. A good time was had by all.

1. Red-headed adult woman.
2. Horse
3. Elevator
4. Goldfish
5. Manhole Cover
6. Gravestone
7. A mailbox with the number 2359 on it
8. Utah state flag
9. Mini-Cooper
10. Straw hat
11. California license plate
12. Bright red door
13. Bowling ball
14. A man with a mustache
15. A missionary
16. Glass Coke bottle
17. Movie theatre screen
18. Fire(big enough to roast a hot dog)
19. Trombone
20. Airplane
21. A dentist
22. City bus
23. Book about rocks
24. Kitten
25. Blue uniform

A Grand Time

I returned late Monday night from a marvelous four days at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. I was invited by Steve Ramras, aka Ram, and this was billed as a "Ramfest." There were quite a few people who came and went, some just to drop by and visit as they ventured into nearby canyons, others to stay a day, and still others, such as Ram, had been there a week already and were planning on another nine days after the fest. That's some serious outdoors time! Here's a brief summary of my trips:

Day One: Down 29-Mile Canyon with multiple rappels into very cold pools with floating disconnects and short swims. Beautiful canyon that empties into the Colorado River, where we blew up our one-man rafts and paddled upstream to exit from the next canyon. Then an arduous hike up a good trail ascending 3000 feet with a full pack, including wetsuit and raft. Long day--up at 4:30a and back to camp at 8:30p.

Day Two: Coolest logistics I've ever seen on a canyon trip. Five of us descended Badger Canyon, leaving fixed ropes in place at the five rappels. Gorgeous. The other six descended the non-technical Jackass Canyon, which empties into the Colorado on the other side from Badger. Once each group was on the river (on opposite sides) we switched places, using the three rafts the other group had carried. Three over, three back, three more over, two back. It was a little dicey crossing with the current, and given the rapids 50 yards below not a lot of room for error. But all got in safely and we carried the rafts back up Jackass Canyon--a beautiful bouldering gem, and the other group cleaned and carried the ropes. Two canyons in one day. Lots of fun.

Day Three: Down the top half of Ryder Canyon, which was first descended a few months ago. I was actually the fifth person to descend this canyon. One big rappel and a lot of wonderful hiking. Halfway down there is the exit, which three of our group opted to take. The other three headed down Lower Rider to the Colorado--a really gorgeous and fun hike. But we were running out of daylight so high-tailed it back, moving very quickly--actually covering the same ground in 45 minutes going upcanyon that took us an hour going down. We managed to hit the foreboding exit with a little daylight left: a steep and exposed 1000-foot climb over about 1/4 of a mile with constant exposure and scree/loose talus footing. I would not want to do that in the dark, although we had headlamps in case of emergency. Great day.

Day Four: The group was thinning and most went to hike Cathedral Wash, which has a glowing reputation. I decided to take on Seven-Mile Canyon and was joined by Sonny L., a recently retired prison psychiatrist, which gave us all sorts of interesting things to talk about. This turned out to be another very nice canyon down to the Colorado River, then hiking up and along the treacherous rockfall bank to the next canyon to exit, where we saw a mountain goat hopping gracefully above us. Just enough exposure and elevation to keep your attention. But a great trip, followed by a long drive home.

The weather was cooperative--it got down to 21 degrees one night, but no rain or snow the entire four days and I was warm and cozy in my tent. I had to pound down thousands of calories to keep my body warm during the day (in the water especially) and energized enough to make the climbs out. Met some fun and interesting people, shared a campfire and stories at night and was enraptured by the beauty of the area.

Also, some pictures from other folks--much better than mine:
GC Day 1
Badger/Jackass Loop
Ryder Canyon
Seven-Mile Draw
Rider Canyon
Badger/Jackass Canyons
Rider Canyon
Badger/Jackass Canyon Loop (from Ram)

Random Thoughts

Today in the grocery store the girl at the checkout asked me: "Did you find everything?" I immediately replied: "I wasn't looking for everything." There's a little devil in me, I know, that has been finding language absurdities everywhere I look lately. For instance, take a look at the photo of a sign I saw in Trolley Square which conjured up all sorts of interesting ideas and imagery. That Harold has one twisted sense of humor.

On a more serious note, Rebecca and I were both struck by something we heard in church last week. Someone told a story of a poor young island boy who gave his schoolteacher a gift of a beautiful seashell. "Thank you so much," she said. "It's so lovely. Where did you get it?" "On the other side of the island," the boy replied. The teacher, realizing what a long journey on foot that must have been for him, said: "You didn't have to go all that way to get me a seashell." The boy replied simply: "Long walk part of gift."

Cereal News

Three interesting things I learned tonight while eating a bowl of organic flax flakes with almond milk and reading the New York Times:

1. The "crack baby" scare proved unfounded. Turns out that pregnant women smoking crack doesn't really do permanent damage to the kids. Resilient devils, I've always said. While crack babies tend to be born smaller, they catch up in a few years. But research results on permanent effects are inconclusive. It should be noted that despite the lack of hard evidence against crack smoking while pregnant, no one appears to be recommending the practice, with the possible exception of crack dealers.

2. Although teen pregnancies have increased in recent years, teen sex is actually on the decline. According to the National Youth Risk Behavior Study, 48% of high school students have had sex, compared with 54% in 1991. And the improvement gets more pronounced with younger teens, although the data is not regularly updated. This is in sharp contrast to public perceptions, sensationalized by popular media, that there is a teen sex epidemic raging out of control. Now 48% is still a pretty high number, but the trend is certainly worth noting. And now I'm very curious as to why.

3. Babies instinctively put stuff in their mouths because it's good for them. It turns out that one of the best things for kids is to eat a little dirt, which strengthens the immune system and decreases the chances of future diseases. Dirt contains millions of organism and, most important, tiny worms. I know it sounds crazy, but scientists are attributing the elimination of intestinal worms in developed countries to increases in diabetes, asthma, allergies, Crohn's disease and multiple sclerosis. Three small fixes: Encourage your kids to play in the dirt, don't scold them when they stick yukky stuff in their mouths, and don't make them wash their hands before they eat.

Actually, I learned a few other things as well, but they didn't seem as profound. For instance, four-legged animals walk left rear foot first, then left front, right rear and right front, but about half the illustrations in books, manuals, etc. show this incorrectly. Not really sure what to do with that. Or this one: Tanzania's government recently banned traditional healers (witch doctors) in an attempt to stop the killing of albinos for medicine. To help combat common myths and prejudices, the prime minister has nominated an albino woman for parliament and adopted an albino child.

All the news that's fit to print.

Mind Games

I just read about a new game from Mattel that requires you to move a foam ball with your mind waves, by concentrating upon it. This is very, very cool. And suprisingly affordable at $80. It will be out next September.

The Mattel game is powered by concentration. I am very eager to play it, but dreadful at the same time. Intense concentration has never been my strong suit. Even in chess, which at one time I played passably, my talent was to be able to very rapidly visualize a sequence of moves. I fear that I will not be able to hold my concentration for long, and any ruse of intelligence that I have been perpetuating over the course of my life will be immediately exposed as my foam ball rests motionless.

I recently reread Ender's Game, one of the few science fiction novels I've read and the only one I've really liked. Written almost 25 years ago, it describes the battlegrounds of the future, led by adolescent (or, in Ender's case, pre-adolescent) commanders. And it strikes me, as I read about the Mattel game, that conflicts may well become mind games of sorts, and in that situation, youth would likely prove more adaptable.

But that's a diversion. The idea that you can move stuff with your mind was a parlor trick made famous by Israeli entertainer Uri Geller in the 70's. He did it on television, and lacking the skepticism of adulthood I thought it was mystifying and magical. (Years later I saw Uri Geller perform live at a corporate gathering and was embarassed by his silly and transparent "mentalist" tricks.)

That may well be another diversion. I'm not sure. You see, I'm having a hard time concentrating. Game on.

Life is like Music

Cool thought for the day.

Very good career advice.

Creative Grandparenting

I just ran across this exchange from an old Calvin and Hobbes cartoon and it inspired all sorts of grandparenting ideas:

Calvin: Dad, how come old photographs are always black and white? Didn’t they have color film back then?

Dad: Sure they did. In fact, those old photographs are in color. It’s just the world was black and white then.

Calvin: Really?

Dad: Yep. The world didn’t turn color until sometime in the 1930s, and it was pretty grainy color for a while, too.

Calvin: But then why are old PAINTINGS in color?! If the world was black and white, wouldn’t artists have painted it that way?

Dad: Not necessarily. A lot of great artists were insane.

Freezefest 2009

Last year I had planned to join a group of like-minded intrepid canyoneers in Freezefest 2008, but sprained an ankle in an Arizona canyon just after Christmas AND caught the flu, so sickly and hobbling on New Years Eve, I unfortunately had to pass. This year I was determined to go.

Freezefest is an annual canyoneering event (seventh year) held in North Wash and attended by a group of diehard canyoneers who are willing to brave the cold to enjoy the rigors of winter canyoneering. We all stayed in the unofficial Sandthrax campground, which has no services, although there is an outdoor toilet five miles down the road.

The centerpiece of the event is always a descent of The Black Hole on New Years Day. The Black Hole is one of the wettest canyons around and involves nearly constant wading, numerous long swims and, during this time of the year, the need to manage a couple of inches of ice atop many of the channels. (There are a few ways to manage this--try to walk the ice and hope it doesn't break, belly crawl the ice, or let the lead canyoneer serve as an ice-breaker, busting off huge floating sheets that the followers must push around the force their way through.)

I undertook the venture with some trepidation, concerned that I would be uncomfortably cold spending hours in icewater. Of the thirteen in our group that did the trip, about half had dry suits, and the rest of us neoprene wet suits. And as it turned out, it wasn't bad at all. In fact, it was a blast.

We did other canyons as well: Woody and Woodsie on Dec. 31st. And on Jan. 2nd we descended Cheesebox, another notoriously wet canyon which was also snow-covered. It was often a challenge climbing down these ice-covered canyon walls, swimming and wading through icy channels and hiking through snow, but these added degrees of difficulty actually enhanced the pleasure of the experience.

All in all, I had a terrific time. The group was great, sharing food and gathering around a fire every night. (One of the fun parts about being in the cold is that you must consume an extraordinary amount of calories to stay warm. Everyone ate a lot.) I made a number of new friends that I expect to join in canyons again. During the three days I descended four new canyons and was grateful for the opportunity to see southern Utah wilderness in conditions not often experienced.

I realize that most people would never do something like this because it sounds crazy and uncomfortable. After all, it is called Freezefest. Despite this, if they conquered their fears and tried it, I think most folks would be pleasantly surprised at how much fun it is, despite the cold. I think many things in life are like that.

"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
The angels are all in heaven, but few of the fools are dead."
---James Thurber

Randi's Photos

Cell Phone Risks

This just in: Looks like cell phone usage significantly increases the risk of brain cancer, based on results from the largest-ever study of the subject. This issue has been floating around for some time, part of the larger concern about electromagnetic radiation from all manner of electronics, from power lines to microwaves, computer monitors and electric blankets.

Scientists continue to debate exactly how electrical low frequencies (EMF) affect our systems. Kurzweil has warned against these for years, and recommended an airtube attachment for cell phones that moves the phone further from your brain. It doesn't look any more geeky to me than any other wired earpieces.

Just one more thing to think about. Or, if your brain fries, to not think about it.

Randy Cooke 1957 - 2008

My friend Randy died this week. We were inseparable growing up. As a ten-year-old I moved down the street from him and we both knew immediately we'd found kindred spirits. We were bright and adventurous and together we rollicked our way through adolescence. As kids we played ball together, wrestled, made up games, watched TV and had countless sleepovers. In junior high we listened to the same music, developed the same taste in girls and together discovered a great love for the outdoors.

We loved to go camping--never at campgrounds, but out in the country and away from people and civilization. I couldn't count the number of nights we slept in our little pup tent, cooking our food over a fire and talking about all the things that seemed so profoundly deep and important in our blossoming youth. We remained close in high school, although we both found other friends. But we grew our hair long, did crazy things and read the same books--everything we could find by Carlos Castaneda, Kurt Vonnegut, Herman Hesse and others.

After graduation our lives diverged and over time we lost touch, I think partly because it was so painful to recognize we'd grown apart--that we no longer had common ground, the terra firma of our friendship that had made growing up tolerable. So for many years we rarely spoke, which I now regret deeply. But he came to the funerals of of both my parents, which I greatly appreciated, although in the bustle we hardly had time to talk.

Then, the last time I was in Duluth, I felt inspired to look him up. We got on the phone and immediately it was like no time had passed, no signs of the awkwardness I had feared. We quickly made plans to see each other and one Saturday morning I sat down to one of his delicious omelettes and delightful conversation with him and Mary Jo. In showing me a short cut back to Duluth Heights we were close enough to my destination that I invited him to come meet my family, which he did. I was as pleased to show them off to Randy as I have ever been in my life. We all chatted a while, but were headed out of town and had to leave. We hugged, and that's the last time I saw him.

Randy didn't have a computer (or a cell phone!) but I wrote him a few times in the past year--real letters that arrive with a stamp from a uniformed mailman. Then I heard from Mary Jo that he was sick with cancer and things weren't looking good. So I called and we spoke, and for the past few weeks I have called while he was home alone during the day and we've relived the bittersweet memories of our youth.

Randy was a unique spirit. He had a style of walking and talking that was distinctive and memorable--like a throwback to our hippie days, but embedded with a bemused kindness. I used to kid him that he had what Vonnegut once described as echolalia--as he would often repeat the last word of the sentence you had just spoken. It seemed to me a pleasant affirmation and a charming quirk.

I always admired the fact that he followed his moral compass with a navigator's precision. We may not have agreed on many things but it would never occur to me to question his personal integrity. He did what he thought was right in a matter-of-fact and unassuming way, a rare example of discipline and fortitude. He kept the same job for 27 years, and moved so he could walk to work. After his diagnosis, but when he was still able, he fixed up everything in the house, replacing appliances and putting things in shape for Mary Jo.

Like me, Randy never lost his love for the outdoors, and had developed a passion for kayaking. (He told me that one of the hardest things was putting up the kayaks, knowing it was for the last time.) Randy had also become a fine cook and a talented gardener and landscaper. He was a great companion to Mary Jo, his life-long love. He was a steady and reliable brother to his siblings. And he was, in the beginning and the end, my friend.

The world has lost someone that made it a better place. He will be missed.

Too Many Shoes

I've never considered myself much of a clothes hog. And especially as I've gotten older I've become less and less concerned with what I wear. But my Christmas present this year (which I chose and ordered before telling Rebecca what she was getting me) was a new pair of Columbia winter boots--great for hiking, snowshoeing and even standing around in the snow. They are waterproof, with Goretex and Thinsulate, and claim to be able to keep your feet warm in temperatures as cold as -40 degrees Fahrenheit. I was very excited to receive them.

That is, until I went to put them on my shoe shelf. There was hardly space, and I was immediately embarrassed at how many pairs of shoes I have accumulated over the years. Many are functional shoes--my 5.10 Canyoneers, a rugged pair of hiking boots, a light pair of hikers, climbing shoes, cross-trainers, two pairs of running shoes, a pair of trail runners, soccer cleats (worn about once a year at the Turkey Bowl, two pairs of water shoes (one new, one very old), basketball shoes and a couple of pair of beater tennis shoes (both at least 10 years old).

I also have nine pairs of dress shoes, some over 15 years old (which have been resoled at least twice), cowboy boots, two pairs of dressy casual shoes and four pairs of very casuals, one of which is totally beat up but work great when slippers don't quite do the trick. And speaking of slippers, I also have two pairs of those. And one pair of hand-me-down Adidas sandals, of unknown origin, which I almost never wear.

If my math is correct, and I haven't missed any, that's 34 pairs of footwear. However, I am pleased to report that I do not own any moccasins (except that pair I use for costumes--oops, 35). OK, but I don't have golf shoes (yet, as I haven't gotten old enough to switch to golf). And I refuse to count my snowboarding or ski boots, so the count holds at 35.

Anyway, upon reflection, I am aghast at my podalic indulgence, and hereby relinquish all rights to criticize anyone for their excessive wardrobes.

World Wide Web

Even though I got no feedback on my always excellent and universally acclaimed movie recommendations ;-), I will nevertheless proceed with websites that have intrigued, amused or otherwise titillated me in the past week. I hope you have the time to kill, because be warned, you're jumping down a wormhole.

Movie Cliches: These are so true, they're hilarious.

Planetbook: Free downloads of a wide selection of classic literature. How cool is that, I mean for the price?

Squashed Philosophers: For those of us that no longer want to devote the time to read Descartes' Meditations again, or Plato's Republic--the Squashed (condensed) and even the "Very Squashed" versions. Handy.

Collected Quotes of Albert Einstein: If I need to explain this site, you won't appreciate the content. And if that doesn't give you your fill of Einstein, read this excellent essay by the big-brained one.

Prince Randian: Moving to the weird, twisted and bizarre. Click on this the next time you find yourself whining. Then click on the Futility Closet home page and read until you marvel that you could waste so much time on such useless stuff.

A Class Divided: This is a fascinating and frightening Frontline special on a discrimination experiment. Written about in Blink, as I recall.

The Ancient World: If you like this kind of stuff (and I totally do) you can really kick it on this site and still feel remarkably good about your use of time.

Wonders and Marvels: Curious history in a well-done, academic blog. I subscribe to the RSS. Check out these fascinating entries on midwifery and childbirth, then dig around the topics on your own.

Playdough Cookies: For some inexplicable reason, I really want to make these.

Sidewalk Chalk: If you haven't seen this sidewalk chalk, you absolutely must check it out. Amazing!

The 100 Best Novels: Can't help myself--I love these lists. They always inspire me to want to read them all. (Which is easier and less challenging than actually reading all of them. Do the squashed versions count?)

Human World: I am a total junkie for fascinating but useless information, the sum of which is absolutely no greater than its parts. In fact, perhaps it is less, which would be a mathematical oddity, I think.

White Christmas: Tell me this doesn't remind you of Mixed Nuts!

Stumbleupon: The source of much of my entertainment. No one needs another toolbar. But the pay-off in unusual repositories of information and other oddities is worth the real estate on your screen, at least for a week or two. But beware--download this app and you're in the matrix too.

Recommendations

I've had a bit of insomnia lately so have been spending idle time late at night watching movies and cruising the web. And consequently, I've generated a few recommendations that are definitely not for everyone, but have kept me pleasantly entertained.

Mongol--I've mentioned this before, but if you haven't picked it up on DVD, you should. The story of a young Ghengis Khan, with a very authentic feel to it. In Mongolian, by a Russian director.

Himalaya--In the same vein, although without the battle scenes, Himalaya is a 1999 film shot in Nepal that tells a touching story about a nomadic people and the clash between the ancient religious traditions and the skepticism of the young. The film is absolutely gorgeous, just beautifully shot. Further, director Eric Valli used only local tribespeople instead of actors, who do a very credible job and add to the powerful realism of the experience. If you've got a big HD screen this is a must-see. If not, you'll still likely be enthralled by the authentic view of the culture and a vanishing people.

Film noir classics, both from 1950--The Asphalt Jungle, a classic John Huston film with a terrific crew of talented actors, including James Whitmore, Sterling Hayden, Jean Hagen, Sam Jaffe and even a young Marilyn Monroe in a bit part. Also, The Third Man, a Graham Greene screenplay starring Orson Welles. Both well done black & white film noir from the end of a great movie era.

Going way back--Again, these aren't for everyone, but if you want to try something different, watch Buster Keaton in The Cameraman. Really unbelievably good physical comedy. The General is also a tale well-told with some great Keaton stunts. I also watched Steamboat Bill Jr., but didn't like that as much. All silent films from the '20's. An early talkie is German director Fritz Lang's M,a 1931 classic starring Peter Lorre that has aged exceptionally well. This movie is way ahead of its time and features extraordinary camerawork and creativity by Lang, along with an intense story and biting social commentary. Really a powerful film, if you like old movies.

Enough for now. By the way, I've been getting most of these from my local public library, just a few blocks from home. They have an eclectic collection of DVD's. Also CD's, with some decent jazz, blues, gospel, folk, classical, obscure R&B, weird pop and even acid rock. Oh, and they have a lot of books, too.

Funky website recommendations to come later.

Hadephobia

As far as anxiety disorders go, is this a bad one? A good one?

Would you avoid going to church to keep from developing it? If you did get it, would you go to church more often to overcome it?

Would it be a mistake to treat this with medication?

So many things for me to wonder.

My Friend Randy

I spoke to my childhood best friend the other day. His wife sent me a letter and said he had been trying to get in touch with me. (He only had my ClearPlay business card.) So I called him right away, only to find out he is dying of stomach cancer. Already bedridden, and with an evacuation tube, daily hospice care and morphine shots to ease the pain. Not good.

We spoke for a long time, reminiscing about our adventures growing up. We both spent a lot of time outdoors and we tried to remember many of our trips. We used to love to go downtown and visit the Army-Navy store, where we would gaze longingly at the cool camping supplies. We bought a lot of our own equipment, saving our money for sleeping bags, backpacks, mess kits and some very manly Rambo-like knives. And on weekends we would load up and camp, sometimes on islands in Minnesota lakes, sometimes out near his brother's place in Wrenshall, and once in -30 degree weather when we snow-shoed out to some beaver dams, and spent the night doing push-ups in our sleeping bags to keep from freezing to death. We have both maintained our love for the outdoors, and in that regard I guess my friendship with Randy was one of the more influential relationships of my life.

When I was last in Duluth I visited him and Mary Jo, his companion of 25 years (they were finally married last August). Randy made me a wonderful breakfast and we visited for a couple of hours before driving over to Tim's, where he met the family. My kids were immediately struck by his distinctive style in speech and movement, something that had changed little since we were in high school.

I asked him on the phone about insights from this experience. I suppose it was a stupid question, but I was genuinely curious about his perspective. His response was classic: "Well, except for the dying part, it's been great." What he meant was that he'd experienced a great outpouring of love, some from unexpected sources. He's been touched by that.

It was good to talk to him, and I'll call him again tomorrow. I sense there isn't much time left and I have a few things that I'd like to say. Plus a little surprise for him, which I have been working on this weekend. I've been fiddling with a screenplay for the past few years. I had named the lead character Randy, after my old friend, although I had never shared it with him. So I am going to finish the latest draft tonight and send it to him. It's a small thing, but I think he'll enjoy it.

One just never knows what is around the bend on life's road.

More Canyons

I had a great couple of days canyoneering this weekend. North Wash is terrific in November, when it is dry, and we were blessed with almost perfect weather. I was joined by Dave Jarvi, Russ Nelson and a new friend, Craig Crow. None of us had met Craig before, and his presence was a little unusual. He had read a post of mine in a canyoneering forum asking about North Wash conditions and mentioning that I was heading there. He asked if he could go along. In some circles this might be considered a faux pas, or at least socially awkward. It is less so in the canyoneering community, and after talking to him on the phone, I invited him to join in. And yes, he had a very different background than the rest of the group. But he was an able canyoneer, an intelligent and thoughtful conversationalist and a great team member. We all enjoyed getting to know him and having him along.

We drove down very early Friday morning and squeezed and shimmied through West Leprechaun, which is even skinnier than East Lep. After some shredded clothes and a few canyoneering lessons for Russ, we finished in good time and headed to Merry Piglet, a recently "discovered" canyon that proved to be a fun and interesting way to top off our day. For dinner I made a teriyaki noodle and tuna dish with fresh vegetables and we gorged ourselves and sat around the fire talking mostly politics, which was surprisingly stimulating and not vituperative in the least.

We got an early start Saturday morning and descended Constrychnine, which I had done a year ago with Angelica and Lanee. But I had forgotten what a beautiful canyon it is, and we all marveled at the magnificent rappels, although a few hearts beat rapidly staring down the 190 foot drop. Still, we made good time through the canyon, grabbed an early dinner at Stan's in Hanksville and were back home before 8:00 o'clock Saturday night.

I really can't think of a better way to spend a couple of days.

Tracking the Flu

How cool is www.google.com/flutrends? OK, maybe it's not the most robust site you've run across. But gee, the innovative principles behind it just grab me. Here's the deal: Google tracks flu-related search requests by geography. Based on the empirically-supported theory that there is a high correlation between these requests and actual cases of flu, the site then reports which states are having the highest incidences at any given time.

Now I'm guessing that back in the early days of search no one would have anticipated this application. It's certainly not mainstream. But it is part of this inexorable march of data, tying together various sources, making us better informed, often in real time. Cool, but getting kind of scary.

Identity Thieves in Action

In the past few weeks I have been receiving cryptic calls from an organization going by NRC for a Wayne Aho, first asking me to call, then telling me it was for a bad debt. Finally I called them back, but only got a voice mail. I left the message that I was not aware of any bad debt and if they wanted they could mail me the information. I left my address. (Probably a dumb idea, but it's all in the phone book and seemed innocuous.)

The calls kept coming. Now saying there was a "huge claim." I called again, and spoke to "Jesse." I explained that my name was not Wayne Aho. Jesse then asked for the last four digits of my social security number "for confirmation." I refused to give the information. She hung up on me.

So I called back and asked why she hung up. She replied very brusquely that "We are doing a background check. Are you ready to cooperate?" I said that no, I wasn't going to give any information until I found out what this was all about. She said: "Fine, I've got another call." Then she hung up again.

Identity thieves. I was angry, so reported them to the Consumer Protection Agency, the FTC and the Utah Attorney General. They confirmed my suspicions--that this was a common scam. So common that unless they get a bunch of complaints about the same outfit they don't bother to follow-up.

The world's a dangerous place when thieves can prowl about so openly. I'd rather take my chances with Ali Babba.

A Dog's Life

 

Sibling Marriage?

I just read this in Forbes:

Two British sisters who have lived together all their lives have lost their battle to avoid paying inheritance tax when one of them dies. Joyce and Sybil Burden, ages 90 and 82, had asked the European Court to give them the same tax rights as married or gay couples. They own their home jointly, and when one dies the other will be unable to pay the inheritance tax and will have to move out. But the court turned down the final appeal.

"We are struggling to understand why two single sisters in their old age, whose only crime was to choose to stay single and look after their parents and aunts, should find themselves in such a position in the U.K. in the 21st century," the Burdens said in a statement.

If gay marriage and its associated rights become broadly legal it creates some sticky moral problems. Let's assume there are financial benefits to marriage--particularly tax benefits, but others as well--insurance, etc. Doesn't this open the floodgates to more marriages of convenience? And what of the two sisters above? Any reason why they couldn't find a connubial solution to their problem, assuming the government would sanction such a thing? And after all, how could we possible discriminate against these two individuals because they happen to be sisters? To each his own, right? Isn't that the gay marriage argument? Don't impose your values on me?

I think this is leading to a time when there is no government-sanctioned marriage at all. The economic issues disappear. (And gladly, so do divorce courts.) There can still be marriage, but it is all ecclesiastical, or whatever you prefer. Nothing is legally binding. There could still be legal parental responsibilities, but not to a husband or wife, unless specifically bound by contract.

Is there any other ultimate solution? How else do we rationalize keeping anyone that pleases from financially motivated marriages, even sisters?

Co-ed Canyoneering

I spent the weekend in North Wash canyons with Bruce Cummings, Lanee and four of her college friends (including Quincey Cummings). Bruce and I arrived early and tackled Monkey Business. We were later joined by the girls for East Leprechaun, Morocco and Adobe Swale. The weather was perfect, with days in the 70's and nights in the high 30's. We had a terrific time.

I really enjoy introducing people to canyoneering. Not everyone falls in love with it, but almost everyone is wowed by the experience. It is fun to see them squeeze through canyons that have an unworldly narrowness; to watch them learn to chimney high above the canyon floor, and stem over areas too narrow to walk through. I enjoy seeing the fear in their eyes as they lean over their first rappel, and the smiles as they gradually build their confidence. We weren't in any water this trip, but it's always a thrill to watch people swim with full packs--something they never imagined doing, sometimes down narrow channels, or to hear them gasp when the water is so cold it takes your breath away, causing them to paddle frantically towards the exit. And I'm thrilled when newcomers really enjoy the beauty of these remote and rugged canyons, taking delight in the artistically sculpted red sandstone and the sheer cliffs rising a thousand feet straight up, natural wonders rarely experienced by most people.

Bruce is a natural, and showed a great desire to learn, which is actually pretty unusual. It was a treat having him, not only because he has always been good company, but because he picked things up quickly and helped with the others. And the girls were impressive as well. They were up for every challenge with a fun and upbeat spirit of adventure. They were tireless canyoneers, never once complained about a single thing and helped out in every way asked. But most important, they seemed to really enjoy it. I couldn't have asked for more from a new group.

I love being in canyons. And I love sharing the experience even more.

New on DVD

Two DVD's that I have previously written about that are recently available and definitely worth watching: The Visitor and Young at Heart.

The Visitor was one of my favorite movies at Sundance last year. A big slow-moving, but very engaging and thought-provoking film with outstanding performances. Young at Heart is the documentary about the aged choir that sings rock 'n roll. It's a thoroughly entertaining movie.

Enjoy.

No Debate

Suppose I had a job interview that went like this:

So Bill, what were your regrets at ClearPlay?

You know, there are always regrets. But you should have seen me at Pizza Hut. We did some great promotions ... Meatlovers Pizza, Cheeselovers Pizza, even a tie in with the Back to the Future movies. Everyone loves pizza. And I don't regret that a bit.

Why did you leave ClearPlay?

We all leave eventually, don't we? But during my tenure we got national distribution in Target and Best Buy, passed an act of Congress and doubled sales every year. You might be interested in my philosophy of managing people. Inspire them to do great things. I know it may sound corny, but (sniff, sniff) I believe in people.

What skills do you bring to the party?

You know, when I was a kid, we used to have birthday parties in my back yard. My mom would bake the cake from scratch. We'd reuse the candles until they were worn out. She grew up on a farm, and her brother Edwin had a crewcut. He married a woman whose cousin used to shoot pool down at Louie's. One time I met a guy named Louie while we were eating pie at a neighborhood diner. He asked me what I thought about the future. I'm sure he made less than a hundred thousand dollars a year. That's why I'm the right guy for this job.

How does your experience relate to this position?

I'm glad you asked me that. My experience will help me a lot, and when I get the job, you'll see that. I will increase revenue and lower costs. The stock price will skyrocket and morale will be really high. That's what this company needs and that's what I stand for. From what I know about the other candidates, they're against all of those things.

Uh, thanks. Do you have any questions for me?

I have a lot of questions. But the good news is, I have even more answers. I can promise you this--I'll have an answer to your marketing questions. I'll have an answer for your finance questions. And I'll even have an answer to your operations questions. If there's one thing I will bring to this position, it's answers. No question about that.

So, do you think I'd get the job?

My old boss David Novak used to say: "When it's great there's no debate." Well, no debate about that.

Body World

Last week Rebecca, Sam and I went to the Body World Exhibit, one of several traveling exhibits that feature actual dead people that have had their skin removed and the rest of their body "plasticized" for our viewing pleasure. It's really quite startling to see these bodies in various poses, with exposed muscles and bones, along with brains and plenty of hearts, which was the theme of this particular edition.

I have never had a mind for science and have little patience for learning the physiological workings of the human body. But beyond being mesmerized by the total weirdness of the displays, I did pick up a few interesting tidbits:

1. Lance Armstrong has a resting heart rate of 32 beats per minute, vs. the average human of about 70. His heart is 30% larger than average, some of which is genetic, and some the result of training.

2. In ancient Egypt the heart was viewed as the seat of morality. It was the only organ united with the body after death. Having learned this, now a certain graphic in the Book of the Dead makes more sense to me.

3. Broken Heart Syndrome results from a toxic overload of stress hormones, which can cause a heart attack and death. This appealed to my inclinations towards romantic tragedy.

4. One hour after conception the zygote begins to divide and multiply, and eight hours after conception it has already created 1000 cells. Seeing actual fetuses in various stages of development in small jars impacted me more powerfully than anything else I saw. Each one felt like a tragic loss of innocent life.

5. Red blood cells transport oxygen to the system and remove carbon dioxide. They travel about 12,000 miles a day. 1800 gallons of blood flow through your body every day. There was a room that had about 35 55-gallon drums to illustrate how much blood goes through your system every day. It made me feel strangely bloated.

While I can't recall the details of how the thyroid works, or how the nerve system is attached, I did leave somewhat overwhelmed by the stunning complexity of the human body and in awe over the beauty of its functionality.

I'm glad we went. It's good to step outside your normal realm of learning, because you begin to realize how all knowledge and human experience are linked.

Television Drama

I took the opportunity to watch the Congressional hearings on television. I'm fascinated by all of this--not just the nature of the crisis, which I can learn more about from the Wall Street Journal--but instead I am keenly interested in the hearings themselves. I like to see Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson and Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke sitting in their very hot seats, fielding questions from Congressmen (and Congresswomen) who are desperately trying to wrap their minds around these very complex issues.

I've been to Congressional hearings before, even testified at them. Generally they are politically motivated and wholly lacking in substance. But these hearings are different. The stakes are high. The issues complex. And choosing sides is turning out to be much less partisan than usual. This is how government was meant to be--elected officials seeking to understand the issues, with the bureaucrats trying to explain why they, in concern for their country, are recommending this plan.

This reminds me of when I was in high school, spending hours watching the Watergate hearings. I can vividly recall Sentators Sam Ervin, who chaired the committee, along with rising star Howard Baker, Daniel Inouye and others, grilling John Dean, John Erlichman, J.R. Haldeman and others. It felt so very historic and important.

Years later I was fascinated by the Supreme Court nomination hearings for Robert Bork and then Clarence Thomas. Yes, these were much more political and partisan events. But still they both seemed like watershed moments in our history, particularly the Bork hearings which questioned the fundamental role of the Supreme Court.

You really have to watch these to appreciate them. Sound bites that you pick up on the news just aren't good enough. And the printed word fails to capture the dramatic tension of the moment. This is history in the making. It ought to get an Emmy.

Friends and Family

My recent experience starting a new business has vividly illustrated for me the differences between friends and family. I have, by necessity, involved a number of my friends in this business. In many cases, these were business arrangements—they agreed to some work in exchange for something in return. In many others, I was simply inviting them to offer perspective and advice on various aspects of the concept.

The results have been generally disappointing. Tasks that were agreed to were either not completed or came in much later than committed. In other cases, invitations were completely ignored. And while I don’t completely understand the reasons for all of this, I am left with the conclusion that the ties that bind friendships fall significantly below other priorities, particularly when connected to businesses. Although this has been disheartening to me, I do not fault my friends. But it has been a learning experience.

In contrast, my family has been very supportive when asked. And I suppose that testifies to one of the great blessings of a family—-they will be there for you. No, not always doing what you asked. But when they sense a need—-and a justified one—you can count on them to do what they can. At least in my family. I’m thankful for that.

The Last Lecture

Having heard so much about The Last Lecture I finally decided to read it. For those of you who might not have heard, author Randy Pausch was a computer science professor and virtual reality expert at Carnegie-Mellon University who at 46 years of age was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer in 2006.

Carnegie-Mellon had for some time been holding a Last Lecture series—an invitation for academics to speak freely on subjects of their choice, vaguely conjuring up what they might say if this was the final opportunity to say it. Of course the irony for Pausch is that this in fact was his last lecture, which he entitled “Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams.” It is available on the Internet, and is an inspiring, engaging, humorous and insightful commentary on how Pausch tried to live his life. The book is his personal story, centered around the lecture and dealing with his final months.

I have spoken to a few friends who were dying or feared they were. Their perspectives intrigue me, and I have asked how the experience has changed their view of the world. Pausch’s response was not much different. Values change completely. Things/possessions/stuff are of almost no importance. People and relationships are everything.

Randy Pausch died on July 25th of this year, leaving behind a wife and three young children. His story is worth reading.

August Quotes

I have always enjoyed quotations that make me think or feel or laugh, or that capture truths in a powerful way. I especially like quotes that remind me of principles I need to internalize or live better. I always have a quotation on my email, and this year I have tried to memorize them as I go along. I find having them at my disposal useful in conversation, teaching, speaking and writing. I've learned that a thought has more credibility if someone famous or dead (or both, ideally) said it before me. Here are a few from August.


"Those individuals have riches just as we say that we 'have a fever,' when really the fever has us."
--Seneca

"By the time you're eighty years old you've learned everything. You only have to remember it."
--George Burns

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world."
--Mahatma Gandhi

"May we live so that when that final summons is heard, we may have no serious regrets, no unfinished business."
--Thomas S. Monson

"A company is stronger if it is bound by love rather than by fear ... If the employees come first, then they're happy."
--Herb Kelleher, Former CEO of Southwest Airlines

"It is far better for a man to go wrong in freedom than to go right in chains."
--Thomas Huxley

"Always notice when you are happy."
--Kurt Vonnegut

"Imagination rules the world."
--Napoleon Bonaparte

"Adults are always asking kids what they want to be when they grow up because they are looking for ideas."
--Paula Poundstone

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
--Dr. Seuss

"He can compress the most words into the smallest idea of any man I know."
--Abraham Lincoln

"If you want others to be happy, practice compassion; if you want to be happy, practice compassion."
– Dalai Lama

"There are three kinds of men: Ones who learn by reading, a few who learn by observation, and the rest of them have to pee on the electric fence to find out for themselves."
--Will Rogers

The Omnivore's Dilemma

I realize that it’s rather audacious of me to recommend Michael Pollan’s book The Omnivore’s Dilemma to anyone (even though Rebecca recommended it to me). Given how extreme my views on diet have become, I might easily be suspected of trying to ram tofu and wheatgrass down your collective throats. Save your gag reflexes, as this is nothing of the kind. Omnivore’s Dilemma is neither an indictment of carnivores nor an endorsement of the organic movement. Rather, it is a fairly comprehensive and well-balanced look at what we eat and why we eat it.

The book opens with a treatise on corn. Americans eat a lot of corn. (More than Mexicans, the author notes.) Our meat is a product of corn, as is most of our sugar and at least some of almost every processed food. Pollan traces this extraordinary dependence to back to political decisions made during the Nixon administration that opened the floodgates for corn subsidies, which have lingered the past 40 years. As a result, we have quite frighteningly become the people of the corn. (For a related exploration of this topic, see the strange but entertaining 2007 documentary King Corn.)

In the balance of the book, Pollan provides a detailed, vivid and intimate contrast between factory farming and localized, traditional farming practices. As everyone knows, we get nearly all of our food from the former while the latter have become virtually extinct. The book explains why this has happened, the result of government policy, special-interest legislation, a growing population and free market dynamics. And so we are left with a food supply that has been processed for efficiency and profitability with little regard for anything else.

On close examination, the modern agricultural system seems almost surreal, a vicious circle that has left us with a dependence on chemical fertilizers and dangerous pesticides, which have led to depleted soil, watershed pollution, high petroleum requirements and tasteless produce, all propped up by government subsidies that mostly enrich large and profitable corporate enterprises. And we haven’t even started on meat processing, which is not only mildly repulsive, but environmentally devastating and terribly unhealthy by comparison. (For an interesting documentary film on factory agriculture--produce, fish, meat and dairy--see We Feed the World.)

What to do? Not to oversimplify, but perhaps the slow foods movement provides the most organized efforts in the right direction. But read the book. Even if it doesn’t change your life, it’s a fun read. After all, eating is our most primitive urge and at the core of our culture and society. It’s not a bad idea to consider the source.

A Very Dark Horse

If nominated, I will not run.
If elected, I will not serve.

The Internet brings such curious power to the people.

In a Wiki

Yesterday morning I woke up and discovered I was a Wikipedia entry. (That line feels vaguely reminiscent of the opening of Kafka’s Metamorphosis, which goes something like this: “As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.” And perhaps my initial reaction was not much different from Gregor’s.)

I have no idea how it got there—it looks like some web indexing. (I swear it wasn’t me!). But it picked up some general biographical data that was mostly accurate, some business background and even family info. I did fix the birth date, which was off by a year.

Once I recovered from the surprise, I began to diagnose this phenomenon. Have I become more important? Well, no. In fact, since leaving ClearPlay I’ve become less relevant in the world of business (CEO’s trump consultants any day). What then? And it came to me. Web 2.0 is not-so-gradually making us all public figures. Our privacy is ebbing away. The time is not far distant when virtually every public action that you take will be traceable, creating a vast library of online biographies free and open to the viewing public.

The Libertarian in me says take it down. But the devil known as Vanity says leave it up. In this case, I’ll neither stand on principle nor bend to temptation. But I will leave it up. With my new business, I could use the publicity.

Parties Having Parties

Now that the Olympics are over and we have two weeks before real sports (i.e. football) starts the leaders of our country determined that citizens were in great danger of not having anything exciting to watch on television. Not being talented enough to create a good mini-series, and not interesting enough for Reality TV, they decided to hold political conventions. Yes, sadly, this is the best they could come up with.

You might ask why you should be glued to your TV set to watch the conventions. The answer is, you shouldn’t, because nothing important ever happens at conventions. No decisions are made. Everything is scripted, from alliteration to applause, from nuance to neckties. Neither candidate is going to say anything new. There are no policy shifts forthcoming. It is all a fait accompli. Yet on we watch, expecting that, what, someone might catch Barrack Obama making out with Hillary behind the curtain?

So why are Republicans and Democrats alike wasting countless millions just to throw a party? Well, first of all, it’s a cash machine. Taxpayers pony up the first $16.4 million to each party (doesn’t that stick in your craw a bit?). Further, each party sells virtually unregulated sponsorships to big business to the tune of over $100 million total. Yep, this is a big money venture—a fundraiser.

And of course, the second reason is the media, with over 15,000 members of the press covering each convention, taking careful notes, writing meaningless political drivel and passing on the most banal of broadcast commentary. Fortunately, even though these titans of journalism are mostly bloated and hungover from the free food and drink, reporting on the convention is a fairly easy process. (Hints: Obama is for change and McCain will indirectly suggest that Democrats are fighting a jihad led by a closet Muslim terrorist.) Besides the party hacks, the entire events are dominated by corporate sponsor suck-ups and disinterested journalists. As some clever pundit said: “The parasites have become the host.”

Yes, it’s a sad and broken system. It’s a tragedy is that one of these two parties gets to have a president. But even worse, there’s nothing else good on TV.

Lake Blanche

Took a hike this afternoon to Lake Blanche, one of the most beautiful trails in the area. It's been several years since I've been up there, and I was once again reminded of why I love it so much. The first mile runs along a burbling creek. Then the climb gets steeper and rockier, with beautiful stands of large quaking aspens amidst rocky outgrowths and occasional large piles of oven-sized rocks where the mountain has given way. The mountain ash were full of orange berries, while raspberry bushes with leaves as big as my hand offered only a few berries left to eat.

Reaching the top offers a delightful reward, where several crystal clear mountain lakes are nestled under the watchful gaze of Sundial Peak. I made good time heading up--reaching the lakes in about an hour with a combination of running and fast-walking the three miles (and 3000 foot elevation gain). I rewarded myself with the most cold and refreshing swim I've had in years.

I'm continually reminded how stunning the Wasatch canyons are and what a blessing it is to have them in my own backyard.

Doping the Olympics

I’m going to make a wild prediction. In 16 years, in the 2024 Olympics (and it might happen earlier), all manner of performance-enhancing drugs are going to be allowed in Olympic competition. And in fact, I think it’s the right move. Actually, it’s the only move that makes sense. Either that, or the Olympics will collapse under the weight of innuendo and suspicion.

Check out the article in Wired called “Cheats of Strength: 10 Next-Gen Olympic Doping Methods.” It’s frightening how many new methods are being developed to give athletes an artificial edge. No doubt many of these will be virtually undetectable.

And this is a curve that will accelerate faster than Usain Bolt. Nanotechnology will make available remarkably effective new processes such as cell replacement, gene reprogramming, red blood cell enhancements, etc. Trying to police these technologies is like cops playing catch-up to radar detectors—the best cheaters will always win, creating a perpetually imbalanced playing field. Further, it will present rather extraordinary ethical dilemmas. For instance, if it turns out that a certain myostatin can dramatically increase lean muscle mass, could an aspiring country breed athletes with high-myostatin insemination?

The IOC will have no choice but to throw in the towel and let the best dope win. In many cases, there will be no ill effects to the enhancements (in fact, quite the opposite, as research shifts from masking detection to reducing risks). Other means will present options: If someone wants to trade 10 years of their life for a shot at the gold, that’s a personal decision. Minors will probably be outlawed from competition, making the investment profile of enhancement a little less attractive. And record books will be rewritten, but as the Beijing Games have made clear, technology is doing that already.

This permissiveness will flow as well to professional sports across the world. So we will all quit worrying about testing and cheating and sit back and watch astounding acts of physical prowess, something between the traditional games of our youth and CGI.

Further, I’m guessing that somewhere around that time we’ll be able to enjoy absolutely life-like digital recreations of classic games from the Pre-Enhanced Era (PEE) on the big screen at home. Pick your teams, change the strategy, draft another player, etc. Then let them play it out. Your players will be programmed to perform exactly like Michael Jordan, Larry Bird et al. This will be where the gambling money will flow, because it will be better controlled and regulated. Fantasy Football on steroids. As opposed to the Olympics on steroids. You heard it here first.

Mongol

Mongol was released in a few film festivals a year ago, and even got an Academy Award nom last year (Best Foreign Film), but just recently found its way to my local arthouse theatre.

The movie tells the story of a young Genghis Khan, the great 12-century Mongolian warlord. Admittedly, this is history with an asterisk. Most of the story is based on The Secret History of the Mongols, the oldest Mongolian literature extant, written as a tribute to Ghengis Khan after his death, and probably more heroic mythic poetry than historical fact. Despite these blurry lines, it is as good a foundation as any to tell the beginnings of the greatest conqueror in the world's history and one of its most intriguing leaders. And unlike many biopics, it also makes for a great story.

Mongol follows the young Temudjin (his given name) from birth through an extraordinarily challenging childhood, despite his favorable heritage (his father was a minor tribal chief). We see a surprisingly mature 10-year-old choose his wife (or, vice-versa really), witness his father's murder, and survive all manner of trials and tribulations with quiet determination and fortitude.

Growing into manhood, Temudjin uses his natural leadership talent and skill in combat to reap his revenge and begin assembling the army that would eventually conquer most of Asia, Russia, Eastern Europe and the Middle East.

This is an engaging film, beautifully crafted by veteran Russian director Sergei Bodrov. Shot on location in China, there is a rich, verdant oppressiveness to the settings, befitting the rugged outdoor life of the nomadic tribes. Spoken in Mongol with subtitles (and using Mongolian and Chinese actors), the films feels strangely authentic. The battles are orchestrated with grandeur and realism (and plenty of gore), reminiscent of Braveheart, giving the production a big-budget feel.

Rumor has it that this is the first of a trilogy Bodrov is planning on the life of Genghis Khan. That would be an ambitious undertaking and an extraordinary product. In any event, Mongol certainly is a painless way to take your history. Highly recommended.

My Personal Best

John Wooden was the greatest athletic coach this country has ever seen. His UCLA basketball teams won 11 NCAA national championships. At one point, they had an 88-game winning streak. (As an aside, I remember as a kid in 1974 watching the game where the streak was broken. John Shumate and a young Adrian Dantley led Notre Dame to the historic victory.)

So looking for a little inspiration, I just read My Personal Best: Life Lessons from an All-American Journey, a short autobiography sprinkled with anecdotes about the principles he has learned. The man's bedrock character oozes from the pages. He's all about fundamentals, in basketball and life. And the principle he stresses most is one I have held deeply through all my years of coaching kids--winning or losing is not that important, but doing your best is everything.

He includes a little poem which is as profound as any I have read:

There is a choice you have to make
In everything you do.
So keep in mind that in the end
The choice you make, makes you.

Our character is a simple function of all the many choices we make (with the more recent ones counting for more, I think). And we make new ones all day every day. These choices define us.

I've read other books by and about John Wooden (They Call Me Coach is another classic). They are all quite a bit alike. And they are all great.

Enquring Minds Finally Know

I'm going to resist the temptation to pile on recent Democratic presidential candidate John Edwards, who after months of vehement denial finally admitted to carrying on an affair in 2006 with a woman his campaign hired to film campaign videos. That wouldn't be fair. If all adulterers were sent off there would be a great vacuum of power in Washington, with not enough left to mount a filibuster. Corporate boards would adjourn without mustering a quorum. And Hollywood would be reduced to a ghost town. So I'll leave Mr. Edwards to the unfortunate consequences of getting caught, which Bill Clinton has ably demonstrated diminish over time given sufficient ego and charm.

But I will share a hearty laugh about the esteemed icon of investigative journalism that first broke the story--none other than The National Enquirer. Hmmm. Maybe I need to rethink the possibility that Elvis is cleaning carpets in South Dakota, or that there really is a Rottweiler that whistles Edelweiss.

July Quotes

"What information consumes is rather obvious: it consumes the attention of its recipients. Hence, a wealth of information creates a poverty of attention."
--Herbert Simon, Nobel Memorial Prize in Economics

"Work as though you would live forever, and live as though you would die today."
--Og Mandino

"As if you could kill time without injuring eternity."
--Henry David Thoreau, Walden

"He who asks questions is a fool for five minutes. He who does not ask questions is a fool forever."
--Chinese Proverb

"I speak without exaggeration when I say that I have constructed three thousand different theories in connection with the electric light, yet only in two cases did my experiments prove the truth of my theory."
--Thomas Edison

"The more you know, the more you care."
--Sam Walton

"In twenty percent of the world's most primitive languages, the word for belief is the same as the word for do. It is only when people get more sophisticated that they begin to separate the meaning of one word for the other."
--From "Talent is Never Enough," by John C. Maxwell

"And will you succeed? Yes indeed, yes indeed! Ninety-eight and three-quarters percent guaranteed."
--Dr. Seuss

"To know anything well involves a profound sensation of ignorance."
--John Ruskin

"There is a choice you have to make
In everything you do,
So keep in mind that in the end
The choice you make makes you.
--John Wooden, My Personal Best


"She's got gaps. I got gaps. Together, we fill the gaps."
--Rocky Balboa, talking about Adrian.

Fooled by Randomness

Nissam Taleb is a former Wall Street trader with a cynical take on success in his industry. In fact, he believes that much of the success and failure in the market (and by extension, life in general) can be explained by randomness. To prove his point, his book Fooled by Randomness introduces an eclectic array of logical and philosophical support, from Hume’s argument against induction to the Turing Test to Popper’s theory on theories (which is that no theories can be proved true—there are only theories that have been proven false and theories which have yet to be proven false).

Despite Taleb’s rather arrogant and sometimes abrasive tone, Fooled by Randomness is an entertaining read. It struck me as a treatise on logic for our society, continually exposing the irrationality of many of our assumptions on life. And while he never leaves the financial world for too long, the sting of his arguments can be felt in other fields as well.

The whole randomness argument is keenly interesting and broadly relevant, although often counter-intuitive. Random variations account for quite a bit of financial success in our world, yet our society lauds those that have made money and assumes they possess some secret alchemy. On Wall Street, if the successful keep trading they are often eventually exposed, sometimes very ignominiously. (In the balance of the business world, the fortunately wealthy often move on to become venture capitalists or angel investors, all the better to maintain the illusion of their business prowess.)

It’s when he is illustrating his points that Taleb is most convincing. For example, I can translate the principle of random success into a compelling scam. Suppose I send 5000 people a letter with a bold prediction that a certain volatile stock will increase. And then I send a different 5000 people the opposite prediction. I turn out to be right with half of them. So I do it again, with a different volatile stock, now split 2500/2500. And this can continue, with a small investment in stamps and envelopes, until a few hundred people view my remarkable track record and are convinced that I’m a stock-picking genius. Clever scam indeed, but the corollary truth that makes it possible is that even if monkeys are making trades, a certain percentage of them will be wildly successful, earning millions in commissions and guest spots on MSNBC. Think about that the next time your investment banker pal pulls up in his Ferrari.

There’s a lot more. Taleb delightfully points out how we misuse and are misled by statistics, how our beliefs are warped by biases (the survivorship bias, availability bias, etc.), and how our decisions and conclusions, even from intelligent and educated people, can often be driven by irrational heuristics. (Example: People think it is more likely that a major earthquake will occur in California than that one will occur in the United States.)

And with every example I found myself laughing at how painfully ridiculous we are in our feeble thinking. Shakespeare said it best, in A Midsummer Night's Dream: “What fools these mortals be!”