Why am I here?

No, this isn't a great religious or philosophical question. It's what I sometimes say when I've just entered a room, "Now, why am I here?" In the few minutes it took to walk to the room, I've forgotten why I wanted to go there. As I've aged, I don't think these types of things are happening more often - I just worry more about them more. I wonder if I'm starting to get senile. I'll forget someone's name that I've known for years. I'll forget that I left the kettle on the stove heating water for tea or I'll put a box with cables and electronics in our basement, forget I put it there and blame my wife for throwing it away. I just chalk it up to getting older.

I heard a very interesting story on National Public Radio on the way into work this morning. It was encouraging in that it seems that research is showing that yes, some things decline in our brain as we age but some things actually get better. And we can help our brain out. The radio story, "The Grown-Up Brain: Sharper Than Once Thought", was an interview with Barbara Strauch who has written a book titled The Secret Life of The Grown-up Brain. In the book, she tells how scientists point out that while our brain may slow down as we age (like the rest of our body) it doesn't have to be an inevitable decline. There are things we can do to improve ourselves. And part of what seems to be forgetfulness is really just our being distracted because, after all, we have more on our minds now than we used to. When we were young, we didn't have to worry about our spouse, our children, our house and our jobs. We were lucky if we had one or more of those things.

On a blog I read, the author was writing about talking to himself and how it can be embarrassing. I wrote a comment to admit that I also talk to myself but part of the reason I do it is so that I will hear my own thoughts. That way, my thought is not only in my mind where it originated but now, since I just heard myself say it, it is in that other place in my brain reserved for things I've heard someone say. Right there I've doubled my chance of remembering the thought.

What an idea!

I was reading the paper at lunch today and one of the letters to the editor struck my fancy. The writer was commenting on the fact that the phone company, the cable provider and the electric power company were not being very responsive. For instance, after fixing a bad land line, the phone company ignored followup calls to bury the line so it wouldn't be damaged again. Also, the power company was going to be spraying herbicides along its lines in spite of requests not to do it (because it damaged neighboring vegetation). I know from personal experience that the cable company keeps raising rates while taking channels away. What can you do? Well, we're told that if the company won't cooperate, we can stop buying their product. But what if you need that product? What if there is no alternative? What if the only alternative (in the case of cable TV or phone service) is to switch to the other company which is just as bad? The companies, of course, try to please their customers and if you leave them, they will suffer.

That's not really true. Companies will only suffer if enough of the their customers leave or complain. If it's just a few of us, they can just ignore us. So, the letter writer ends with this (I've edited out a couple of things):

"Unfortunately, [these companies] have become too powerful, so powerful they have forgotten customers are supposed to come first. As an individual, I can't do much to change the way these companies behave, but [...] , if ordinary people like us unite, we have power."

What a great idea. We could all get together and make the companies acknowledge our requests. We couldn't all go there, like a mob, so we could get together and select people to talk for us. Maybe we could have a vote to select those people. Maybe, since things like this continue to happen, we could select the people to do this for a few years at a time. Maybe, since it will be time consuming to get all the facts straight and define reasoned arguments, the people we select should be paid. We could all chip in a little money and if enough of us do it, these people we select could afford to do this full time - like the companies we are dealing with. Let's come up with a name for it. Let's call it a government.

I don't know. The letter writer was probably being subtle. The letter writer probably assumed we would all recognize what he was describing. But when a non-subtle person like me reads the letter, he just can't help making a non-subtle blog posting about it.

Who did win?

This is a follow-up to my last post, "Who's going to win?", where nine sports writers were asked who was going to win the Master's golf tournament. Only two of the nine experts correctly picked Phil Mickelson to win the tournament. I'm not one to rub it in. Also, I know so little about golf that I would have never considered picking a winner in that tournament. But it is a good lesson to remind ourselves about how decisions and predictions can be made. Seven golf experts were wrong about this. Yet, they will probably still be considered experts and will probably be asked the same question next year. Maybe they will pick the winner correctly in a majority of tournaments. Maybe they won't. It doesn't matter! These kinds of predictions only matter if you are in charge of making t-shirts that are printed with the winner's name on them and you have to finish them before the tournament ends. And even then, if you're stupid enough to spend money on that ahead of time, you deserve to lose the money you wasted.


Later this week, though, I am going to make a prediction about a technology that I think will make a big difference in the fields of computers and embedded electronic control. Here, predictions can be helpful to get you to look into something that may be important in the future. I want to work on this for a while to make sure I write it well. And no, I am not going to be writing about the Apple iPad!

Who's going to win?

This happens more with sporting events but it also happens with elections and even with stories (or movies or TV shows) where it gets changed to "What's going to happen? Does this guy get caught?"

I was looking over the news at lunch today and one of the headlines was, "Who is going to win the Masters" (link to CNN story). What is the use of this? If someone really knows the answer to this, would people who would normally watch this golf tournament not watch it now that they know who is going to win? Or are they going to bet on that person and win a bunch of money? Does it make them feel better if the golfer who is going to win is a golfer they like so they can be assured he is going to win?

In reality, no one knows who is going to win this tournament. Nor does anyone know who is going to win the World Series (now that the baseball season has finally started) but that doesn't stop people from making these predictions. Usually, it's the experts that make these predictions. But what is really interesting is that these experts differ on who they think will win. For instance, for the two (interminably long) weeks before the Super Bowl is played, there were articles (by the experts of course) about why the New Orleans Saints were going to win. Oh my goodness, they were right! But the funny part is there were also articles (by different experts) about why the Indianapolis Colts were going to win. Are those guys no longer considered experts? I'll bet they will still be making predictions next year.

I think what it comes down to is a feeling of comfort. My wife and son will often ask me how a story we are watching on TV will turn out. I say, "Won't that ruin it for you?" "Why don't we just watch the rest of the story and you'll find out?" I usually end up saying. But I think they get nervous when they don't know what is going to happen. Especially if it is a suspenseful story. If I tell them that Grace Kelly will get caught in Raymond Burr's apartment when she is snooping around for his wife's jewelry does that ease their minds or do I need to say that yes, she will be found out by Mr. Burr but the police will get there in time to help her? I'm talking about the movie Rear Window and I hope I haven't ruined it for you. It really is a great movie.

I remember seeing the movie Zulu on TV with my father (who had seen it before) and every time the Zulus would attack, he'd say, "Well, I think this is when the Welsh regiment is wiped out." I hadn't asked him what would happen. He just offered this information and each time I was prepared for the small group of soldiers to be killed and every time, while some of them would die, the group survived. Until the next attack and my father would say, "Oh, now I remember. This is the time they are all killed." And once again, I'd be looking for the end. And it didn't happen. In fact, the regiment survives through the movie and the Zulu warriors move on - after saluting the soldiers for their bravery. This is just the opposite of wanting to know "how it ends". But I have to say, that this was one one of the most exciting movies I've ever seen - perhaps because of my father's unsolicited comments. Maybe the people watching the Masters will say the same thing when the experts are wrong.

Unintentional practical joke - Part 2

As I prepare to finish up this story, I realize that what I should have done was wait for a year to finish this. That's the way it happened in real life. But that's impractical - mostly because I'll forget to write the second part after that long of a wait. I forget why I've walked into a room for goodness sake!

As I left the story last time (link to previous part), my friend had moved 1500 miles away to enroll in graduate school in Colorado. In the meantime, I was still working outside Washington three months later but changes were afoot and my job was going to be moving to Mississippi. They made the mistake of sending us down there in the summer to see if we'd like to move. It was hot. It was so hot, no one came out during the day. I only saw people around at night when it wasn't quite so hot. I declined the move but I was fortunate because I worked for the US Geological Survey and they needed an electronics engineer in two other locations that didn't get as hot as Mississippi in the summer - Woods Hole, MA and Denver, CO. They would be transferring me to the Denver office for a week to see if my skills fit in with what they were doing there. I figured it would be a good chance to see my friend again.

He was very busy and was never in his apartment when I called. The arrangements were made pretty quickly and there wasn't time to write, either (this was in the 70's - no cell phone and no e-mail). So, I'd have to "pop in". I drove into town one evening and found his apartment building. You had to hit the buzzer near the individual mail slot to get in but he didn't answer the buzz. Out again. So, I figured I'd leave him a note to let him know I was in town. But writing an "I'm here and here's how to reach me" note seemed so boring. Two things went through my mind:

1) My friend always said he could tell my writing and
2) Wouldn't it be more fun to make in mysterious?

So, remembering the events from the previous post, I wrote this (or something like it - this was a long time ago):

"At last I've found you. You thought you could get away with cutting in front of me in your car in Washington. But I've tracked you down. We'll see who is laughing now."

In my strange, warped mind I just assumed he would know it was me. The next day, I called his apartment again and this time he answered. "Did you get my note?" I asked. The mixture of relief, anger and exhaustion in his voice were apparent over the phone. "I can't believe you did that", he said. "Do you know I called your apartment at 3 AM last night to see if you were home?" sounding a little more mad than relieved. "If you would have answered, I think I'd have had a heart attack," he said barely able to control himself. "How did you remember about the car, anyway?" he finished.

He had been up most of the night worrying. My not answering when he called my apartment in Virginia didn't necessarily mean I'd traveled to Denver and slipped an ill-advised, idiotic, threatening note into his mailbox. He didn't know for sure until I called the next day. But I'd been right about one thing - he was pretty sure he recognized my writing.

Unintentional practical joke - Part 1

I'll tell this story in two parts because that is the way it happened. Two events that were separated by over a year.

The story starts when one of my best friends (we had been roommates our freshman year in college) was living and working in Washington DC. One day, as he was pulling his car out of the parking garage of his apartment building, he happened to pull in front of another car. It wasn't like he cut the guy off but the guy apparently thought my friend should have waited to pull out. Maybe the guy was in a hurry. Maybe the guy didn't like to have anyone driving in front of him. Maybe the guy was just a jerk. Whatever the reason, the other car pulled right up behind my friend and started beeping his horn. My friend felt bad but had no room to pull over to let the guy get around him. He figured that sooner or later he would turn one way and the guy behind him would go another way. So, at the next turn, he was a little dismayed that the guy following turned the same way. "Oh, well," he thought, "he'll turn a different way at the next turn." To help things along, since my friend was in no rush, he turned onto a little-used street. The guy behind turned the same way. Now he began to worry. Finally, after making a few more turns, with "the guy" following on each one, they came to a red light. Now, with both cars stopped, my friend was able to see that there were two people in the car and the passenger seemed to be writing something down. When the light turned green, the guys in the other car sped around my friend's car and finally left him alone.

My friend was worried, though. Had they copied his license number and had some access to the license database? Of course, they had seen which apartment building he was leaving. They wouldn't know for sure if he lived there but it was another worry. But nothing ever happened and, as time passed, my friend thought less and less about it. He had been thinking about going back to school to get his master's degree for some time and months (or may a year or more) after this incident, he was accepted into a master's program at the University of Colorado. It was a sad day for me (I was living in Northern Virginia at the time and we hung around together often) but it was good for him and his career. He was going to be very busy with school and, as it turned out, would be meeting his future wife there. So, the last thing on his mind was a road rage incident 1500 miles away.

That's the way this part of the story ends. All was fine until I traveled to Colorado for a possible new job. We'll finish the story next time.

It's the Easter Hound Dog, Charlie Brown

Happy Easter. Christ is risen!

We have our own little Easter Egg hunt before going to church and our dog Charlie helped me distribute them. Here he is resting from his work. He's making one, last check to make sure they are all in place. He enjoys helping the kids find them, too.