harvest

Currently listening to Opeth - Blackwater Park

As a college student in the late 90's, I took advantage of the all-you-can-download music buffet that Napster offered at the time. As time wore on and I educated myself on the issue of downloading, I changed my tune and deciding that it was unethical to obtain an artist's work without paying for it (unless, of course, the artist was offering it for free, as in the recent Radiohead example). As such, I have tried to go back and purchase legitimate copies of everything that I ever downloaded. I think I'm close to succeeding in that goal.

Buying legitimate copies of music, be they electronic or physical, is an expensive proposition for a person like me, who has an insatiable hunger for exposure to new music, artists and genres. By now, I have well over 2000 albums in my possession, with 99% of those albums being in CD format. Music is an expensive love and hobby, but I never look around my home office where all this music resides and think to myself that I could have purchased some other really cool stuff if I hadn't bought all this music. We all spend our money differently and for different reasons.

I think many music fans live with the misconception that all musicians are wealthy and make tons of money off of album sales, or in general. This is the justification that illegal downloaders frequently use for their behavior. This couldn't be further from the truth. The majority of musicians out there never make it big, and have to scrounge to get by. I always knew that artists made little from album sales, but a recent article in Rolling Stone really drove that home for me:

In Rainbows, Radiohead's seventh album, was released in October, and any talk of its content was immediately overshadowed by its method of delivery. As everyone knows, the band, in a surprise announcement, decided to release the album as a download on its Web site, where fans could pay whatever they wished, anywhere from nothing to £99.99 (about $212). Though Radiohead have refused all requests to release official numbers, even the estimates of the online survey group comScore — estimates that the band dismisses as low — would make the experiment a success. According to comScore, a "significant percentage" of the 1.2 million visitors to Radiohead's Web site in October downloaded the album, and while comScore claims only two out of five downloaders paid anything at all, the payers averaged $6 per album — which, factoring in the freeloaders, works out to about $2.26 per album, more than Radiohead would have made in a traditional label deal.

That's not much at all, when you consider that the average CD probably sells for $15 each. In any case, knowing this, I've often wondered where I could buy CDs in order to ensure that the artist was making as much money as possible. I mean, sure, record companies, distributors and retailers do serve a purpose and they need to be paid as well, but when the artist is making less than 15% of the CD's actual selling price, that just seems wrong.

I frequent a few different music bulletin boards. A few years ago, a mostly unknown jazz pianist who also frequents one of these boards started a thread in which he asked if anyone was interested in hearing his music in a high-resolution format such as DVD-Audio. Nothing was ever announced in the thread, and I forgot about it. A couple weeks ago, I remembered this thread and musician and sent him an email to inquire about this album and whether or not a high-resolution version was ever made. He replied and told me that he could never figure it out, so he didn't do it. I offered some technical assistance and directed him to a program that he could use to do it himself, but he said that he was too busy building a studio to play around with it again. I was disappointed, but told him that I'd buy his album anyway, and asked him what the best way would be for me to purchase it and ensure that he got the maximum amount of money from my purchase. He told me that I could send him the check personally, and that he'd not only send me that album, but also my choice of one of the other three albums he's recorded as well, free of charge. The check will go to him tomorrow, and in a few weeks (he's currently living in Mexico), I should have some new music to listen to.

Obviously, not every musician would do this. Either way, I wish there was some way for me to ask every musician I like how I could best support them in order to make it easier for them to keep recording music.

stupor tuesday

Currently listening to Amy Winehouse - Back to Black

Our presidential election process takes way too long. It would be nice if we moved to the Canadian model, where campaigning is only allowed starting 60 days before the election. In any case, I've been sick of all the election business in the media for quite some time, and have been trying to avoid it for the most part. I wasn't aware until Monday that the Minnesota caucuses were to be held yesterday, and as such, hadn't planned on participating. I worked from home the entire day yesterday, so I was pretty restless by late afternoon. Feeling a need to get out and perform my civic duty, I announced that we were going to the Republican caucus.

The Republican caucuses for my precinct were held at one of the middle schools near where we live. There are two middle schools next door to each other. The Democrats caucused at one, and the Republicans at the other. I was surprised to find a long line of people waiting to register when we got in the door. The process was very sloppy--all wards in the precinct were to register at the same small table. Nobody was checking IDs or anything like that. When we finished registering, we found a place to sit at a table, next to one of the wife's friends from church.

After the leader of the evening's activities read several dull letters from Senate, Congress and presidential candidates, we separated out into the various wards in the precinct so that we could elect delegates and alternates, and then do the presidential straw poll. The entire process was extremely disorganized. First of all, most of us were told to go into corners of the cafeteria, so it was very loud. The leader for my ward had never led before and appeared to have not even read the instructions for how to lead the caucus prior to the event, which made the whole thing go very slowly. To make matters worse, he was a very soft-spoken man and everyone had a hard time hearing him.

After delegates and alternates nominated themselves (we had exactly the number needed for our ward so we didn't have to do any voting, thank heaven), it was time to do the straw poll. And, wouldn't you know it, there were neither pencils for people to write with nor enough ballots to go around. We ended up using scraps of paper that had been handed out for the delegate election which ended up not being needed, and wrote in our choice on the paper. I had a paper to write for school and other things to do, so I didn't bother to stick around to hear the results of the poll or to participate in the discussion of the party platform and other topics, which is apparently also part of the caucus process.

I've long felt that our election process had serious flaws and problems, and last night's events only strengthened that belief. Having any kind of serious political process or discourse in such a setting is utterly impossible. Also, it seems like it would be important to check identification to make sure that only eligible citizens are participating.

I don't know that I'll ever attend another caucus. Here's to hoping that Minnesota switches to a regular primary format sometime in the near future.

the look

I bought a new camera a couple weeks ago and tried it out by taking some random pictures around the house. Needless to say, I'm very happy with the camera. Anyway, I really like one of the photos I took. I caught my wife off-guard, and there's a rather sinister look on her face. She asked me to delete it, but I have no idea why.

The original picture:


The look:


That evil eye is the best part. Awesome.

strength beyond strength

I didn't sleep well last night. That bowl of cereal right before bed wasn't the best idea.

Toward the end of my dream, the now-deceased guitarist from Pantera was playing the solo in the Pantera song "Strength Beyond Strength", and I was truly blown away (side note: unlike many people, when I dream about playing the guitar, I still suck). I woke up right after this dream performance. I think that's the second time in the last few days that this song has been in my dreams, so when I woke up, I immediately grabbed my guitar and found the tablature for it online so that I could learn to play it. I've been wondering how to play it for more than a decade, so I'm a happy man this morning. It's not that hard and has a nice, haunting quality.

I should play more often.

My humble setup:

riding the storm

My recent string of bad luck continues.

A couple weekends ago, I wanted to grill some ribeye steaks I had picked up at the store. I went out to the grill, but the propane tank was empty. Bummer. The little lady was kind enough to go get it filled a few days later. When I went outside and turned on the tank, I smelled propane everywhere. Since it was about 0F outside, I thought maybe the gas line had been damaged. Not wanting to do any further damage, I gave up on grilling for the day and decided to broil the steaks instead. Not as good as grilled, but still pretty good. I checked the grill again on Sunday when it warmed up to 25F or so, and couldn't find any leaks. I disconnected the tank, reconnected it, and voila! No more leak. I was going to grill tonight, but it's really windy and the wind chills are down to -40F, so I think I'll wait another day or two.

I was cooking some pasta on the stove the other night, and the water overflowed as it often does when pasta is being cooked. I went back to the stove and took the lid off, but didn't realize that the overflowing water had put the flame out. Natural gas filled my kitchen and living room for 5-10 minutes before I noticed. We quickly opened some windows and turned on a fan, and fortunately, there were no further problems.

During my visit to the mall to get my iPod replaced earlier this month, I entered a drawing for a new BMW. I got a voicemail on Saturday stating that I had won one of the alternate prizes: four airline tickets, a Visa gift card and a two-night stay in a hotel. I was pretty excited about the prospect of Bad Luck '08 ending, but my excitement was short-lived. I suspected it might be one of those things where "everybody is a winner" and you have to sit through some multi-level marketing scam presentation before they give you your "prize." Sure enough, when I called back I found out that I'd have to sit through a 90-minute "tour" of vacation packages. I told them I would go, but when they said that my wife also had to attend or I couldn't get the prizes, I promptly ended the call. I have no time for nonsense like that. So much for my prize.

I got my car back from the repair shop a couple Fridays ago. As I mentioned in a previous post, the GPS was not working when I got it back. Not only that, but I had to go back to the repair shop twice for them to fix things on which they had done a crappy job. Despite the hassles, I was happy to have my car back. The GPS has been examined by the dealer and they're going to replace it for free, which is nice. Anyway, my happiness was short-lived. I was in another car accident this morning. A car tried to merge onto the freeway in front of me and I got a nice 10'+ scratch/dent on the side of my car. Based on the nature of the accident, the fact that I was driving slowly and the fact that I had my headlights on, I don't think the other driver even looked before pulling into traffic. I've already been on the phone several times today with my insurance company, the other driver's insurance company, the adjuster, etc. I hope I'll be able to get my car in the shop sometime in the next couple of days.

I had thought that things couldn't get any worse. I was wrong.

a new favorite

Currently listening to The Allman Brothers - Idlewild South

I'm not a big fan of sweets, desserts or anything of the kind. I'd much rather have a steaming bowl of beef 'n' broccoli than a piece of pie, a slice of cake, or a truffle. However, I recently found a new kind of chocolate that I really like: Lindt Excellence white chocolate coconut. It's quite possible the best chocolate I've ever had. I'm a big fan of Lindt chocolate in general, but I can never eat more than one or two pieces at a time. This holds true for the white chocolate coconut bar as well. I bought one bar before Christmas and I still haven't finished it. At $3/bar or so, it's not the kind of thing you buy every day, to be certain...but I'm sure there will be more of these in my future. I just hope that this isn't a limited-edition creation like the Lindt cookies 'n' cream truffles were. I bought them once in the Lindt store we have in the local mall, and haven't been able to find them since. Major bummer.

ports of call

Currently watching Training Day

The little lady and I had been discussing taking a bigger trip for a while, but most of the talking was just that--talking. Despite the fact that I'm not a beach guy and would probably go insane after a few hours of being in some beach resort with nothing to do, that's the kind of vacation I'd been dreaming about for the last year and a half. I suspect this is the result of two things:

1. I got really tired of planning activities before and during our 2006 Hawaii trip.
2. Between work and school, I've been busier than I ever have been in my whole life for the last year or so.

We finally sat down for some serious discussion earlier this week. We narrowed our possible choices to England, the Caribbean and a Mediterranean cruise. I was still feeling like I needed something sunny and relatively slow, so England fell out of the running pretty quickly. The wife kept lobbying for the Mediterranean, and the more I looked at different cruises, the more appealing it sounded. So, in the end, we settled on a cruise. Once a decision is made I like to move quickly, so the cruise is booked, the flights are paid for, and reservations have been made for a hotel near the Vatican City in Rome. It's ended up being a lot more expensive than I had originally planned for, but it's not every day you go on vacation or visit new continents and/or countries for the first time. I guess we'll be eating a lot of ramen this year.

I've never been on a cruise and don't know that I'll enjoy it that much, but the destinations look interesting and I've lately spent a lot of time reading about the history of that part of the world, so I'm looking forward to seeing and experiencing a part of the world that neither of us has ever visited.

We selected an 11-night cruise, which will depart from a port near Rome. We'll be visiting cities in Italy, Greece and Turkey. A map of our upcoming voyage:


This will also be the longest vacation I've ever taken from work--11 work days. I'm really looking forward to it. Now all I have to do is get through the next four months of work and school.

the hike

On paper, it didn't seem that far. Lee Kin Tong and I studied the map for a while and agreed that we could definitely walk from Mui Wo to Discovery Bay. We were tired of paying for ferry rides over to Discovery Bay, and figured if we could save some money, we'd probably go there more than we typically did.

We talked to a few other guys who had lived in Mui Wo and found that no one had ever tried walking there before. According to the map we had, there were trails over the nearby hills that would take us there, so it was just a matter of finding the right one and making our way there.

We started our hike late in the morning the following day. The scenery was interesting enough. Mui Wo was a small village next to the ocean, and we could see the ocean most of the time as we made our way up the hill. We also saw several old ancestor worship enclaves, which the Chinese frequently build into the sides of hills and mountains for the purpose of paying their respects to departed ancestors. Neither of us was used to hiking, so we stopped every once in a while to rest, have some water and enjoy the breeze.

Lee, like me, was close to the end of his mission. He had served in many different areas, including the mission home, and had grown bitter over the months of hard work, heat and bad conditions--nothing uncommon in any part of the world, I'm sure. I had many native Chinese companions, more than anyone else I knew of, and of all of them, Lee was my favorite. His English was pretty good, but we always spoke Cantonese to each other, and he would occasionally throw in some English slang that he had learned from his various American companions. This was always entertaining, because he had a slight lisp and the phrases he knew would come out of nowhere.

The hike was taking a lot longer than it should have. It became clear after a while that either the map was wrong, or we had read it wrong, or we had taken the wrong trail. Soon enough, however, we were at the top of the hill and could see Hong Kong Island, Peng Chau, Cheung Chau and Lamma Island in the distance. It was quite a view.

We saw some trees in the distance, and walked toward them. When we got to them, we realized where we were--the Discovery Bay Country Club. Yes, we had definitely taken the wrong trail, and had ended up on the local ritzy golf course. We looked to see if we could walk around it, but it looked useless. So, we hopped the barbed wire fence and walked across the course, looking for the exit or the clubhouse. As you can imagine, we got a lot of stares from people on the course, and felt really strange about the whole thing.

Discovery Bay, as its name implies, is a bay. This means that it's not at the top of a hill or mountain. When we got to the clubhouse and exited the golf course, we realized it would take a long time to get back down to Discovery Bay. Lee looked at me and sourly remarked "this sucks" in that lispy voice of his. I couldn't help but laugh.

We finally made it to Discovery Bay after another 45 minutes or so of walking. Total trip time? 3-4 hours. We wouldn't be walking to Discovery Bay again. Being thirsty and exhausted, we hit the local "gwai lo" (this is what we called grocery stores that carried a lot of American and British foods) Park 'n' Shop, bought some soda and American foods, and then caught the next ferry back to Mui Wo. So much for working that day.

Dawkins

I mentioned Dawkins in yesterday's entry, so I might as well complete that thought.

As I mentioned before, Dawkins was an intelligent guy who was used to being the best at everything he did, no doubt because of his intelligence and because he was insanely competitive. I cannot help but wonder if his short stature also had something to do with his competitive drive. Anyway, whether it was playing his instrument or learning a new language, he always wanted to be at the top of whatever the game was.

After the MTC, Dawkins and I lived in the same apartment when I was about halfway done with my mission. His Cantonese had greatly improved since the MTC, but it was still a little quirky, as was his personality. Dawkins was always given to doing weird things here and there, such as ignoring the usual "golden question" and discussion routines and asking people first thing if they wanted to get baptized and/or receive the priesthood. Not exactly normal.

There is little doubt in my mind that he was ecstatic when he was called to be the AP (assistant to the mission president). He always had ideas about how things should be, and it became apparently very quickly that he wanted things in the mission to change. Memos started coming out about stricter rules and what we could and could not do, and although they were signed by the president, we all knew where they were coming from. Morale started to decrease, and we were getting increasingly frustrated.

A mission conference was held in the Ho Man Tin stake center a couple months after Dawkins became the AP. The week before the conference, David became Dawkins's new companion. David was asked to conduct the conference. After a few opening remarks from the president and his wife, they left the chapel and David got up to speak. The purpose of his talk was to discuss some of the new rules that had come out of the mission home and to lay out even more rules. This is when the meeting got weird. Missionaries sitting in the congregation began to stand up and challenge the rules. Even one of the elderly couple missionaries stood up and quoted the scripture from D&C about "teaching people correct principles and letting them govern themselves." Badger and Cronkite heckled and made jokes from the back of the room. Another friend, Sis. Oscar, who was new at the time, stood up and told everyone in shakey Cantonese that "she didn't like this feeling in the room." I don't think I've ever been in a group of people as angry as this one. Not exactly a model church meeting.

I felt bad for David. Everyone knew that he hadn't come up with these new rules, and that Dawkins had thrown him under the bus by having him deliver the message. Dawkins sat behind him the whole time with an angry scowl on his face, never offering any kind of support to his new companion as he was attacked from the audience.

The president came back in the room later and said that he had purposely left the room so that he could get an honest reaction to what was being proposed. The reaction was certainly honest, but despite what had happened, most of the new rules went into effect anyway.

I don't even remember what the biggest complaints were now, but I believe that among the changes were rules stating that we could no longer go to dinner appointments at members' homes with the sister missionaries (almost every ward/branch had both elders and sisters), and that we could not walk next to the sisters on the sidewalk. Our morning preparation time was also cut back by 30 minutes (because of the difficulty of the language, we had always gotten 30 minutes more than the white handbook had prescribed), and we were now required to begin proselyting at 9:30am. Anyone who's ever spent time in southern China knows that the country is dead at 9:30am, so going out earlier wasn't exactly the best use of our time. I wish I remembered what the new rules were more clearly, but things changed so frequently in HK that it's hard to remember when exactly which rule changed. The conference was, however, quite memorable.

As one might expect, we were not happy, and Dawkins, who had never been the most popular guy in the mission, was now a pariah. The president apparently understood this, because Dawkins's tenure as AP ended not long after the conference. He was sent to the corner of the mission where he could do the least harm and the fewest people would see him: Macau. If you've never heard of Macau, well, it's not in Hong Kong. It was, at the time, a Portuguese colony and thus another country.

I've learned over the years that piling rules on people doesn't necessarily make them behave better or like you more. A little extra trust and faith in others, on the other hand, often does wonders for relationships of all kinds. Dawkins learned it very well that day, I'm sure, and hopefully has never forgotten it.

when it pains, it roars

Bad luck '08 continues. I took my wife's car to the dealer for the 60,000 mile service, and ended up needing new brakes, tires and a few other things in addition to the service. The total for all this nonsense was almost $2100.

I went outside yesterday morning and noticed that the rear driver's side tire looked a little low, so I told her I'd put some air put in it before she had to use her car again. I went out this morning, and it looked even worse. I pulled it out of the driveway, and felt that ominous little bump as I drove down the street that told me the tire was completely flat. So, I pulled my car out of the garage, pulled her car into the garage, and then put on the spare tire. Few things in life are less pleasant than changing a tire.

And, of course, wouldn't you know it? The dealer is not open today for me to get this resolved.

I believe I mentioned that my car's navigation system wasn't working when I got it back from the repair shop. I did some searching around the internet and found that if you disconnect the battery from the car, the navigation system will often reset itself and all will be well. I tried that this morning as well. No dice. So, I called the insurance company again, but of course, there was no one working who could actually approve the repair. And, naturally, this means that my car will have to go into the shop yet again.

garbage

Currently listening to Carcass - Swansong

It is often said that we live in a throw-away culture in America. We're wealthy compared to most people in this world, and we don't think much about what we buy, use and then throw away. Much of the throwing away happens despite the fact that the item thrown away is still in good and/or usable condition.

When you have money to buy new things all the time, this aspect of our culture just doesn't seem all that important. However, when you have little or no money, you begin to treasure each item that comes into your possession, no matter how insignificant. I discovered this as a missionary. The smallest little things, like the plastic bags I got at the grocery store to carry my groceries, soon became valuable items that couldn't be thrown away until they had been used many times, or could no longer be used at all.

The Chinese certainly aren't as materialistic as we are (though this is changing), but they also don't live in homes as big as ours, which means they can't keep a lot of junk around. This often worked to our benefit, as we would walk around and find perfectly usable items and then take them home for our own use. The Cantonese word for this is "jup," and I wish there was an English equivalent, because it's a great word. It basically means "to pick something up off the street and keep it for your own use." We jupped a lot of good stuff, but I also remember a few disasters from jupping.


The apartment in Tuen Mun was old and cramped, as most of the apartments were. In one corner of the living room was an ugly, fake leather couch. It was gray and had black zebra stripes. Said couch had been jupped by a couple missionaries a few months before I moved in, and it was nice to have, since it provided an additional place to sit where there had been none. It was late summer when I arrived in Tuen Mun, my first area, and not being used to the heat and humidity, I had a hard time adjusting. The first Monday I was there, I woke up really early in the morning. Not because I wanted to, but because I felt something crawling on my face. It was a giant cockroach, between 3-4" inches long. Oh, and the cockroaches in Hong Kong can fly, too. After finding that on my face, I couldn't go back to sleep. The Tuen Mun apartment had a major cockroach problem, and we were always finding them and crushing them with shoes, pots and pans, books and whatever other weapons we could find. One night, I went to bed early because I wasn't feeling very well--heat exhaustion, I think. Anyway, I was both tired and somewhat delirious, but I was having a hard time staying asleep for very long. As I was tossing and turning later in the night, I heard a lot of commotion coming from the living room/kitchen area. Too tired and sick to get out of bed, I tried my best to ignore it and go back to sleep. I was the first person to wake up the following morning, and when I walked into the kitchen, I found dead cockroaches everywhere--on the floor, on the counter, in pots with water in them, etc. Apparently a couple of the other guys in the apartment had purchased a fogger the night before, and setting it off had brought all the cockroaches in the apartment out, so they did their best to kill every last one.

My stay in Tuen Mun, though brief, was not a pleasant one, and cockroaches were a large part of the reason why. None of my other apartments were ever as bad as the Tuen Mun apartment. A couple months after I moved out, another missionary called and told me that they had ripped the back off the zebra couch and had found hundreds of cockroaches living in it. They took the couch and threw it out the window of the apartment (I laugh when I think about it, since that apartment was at least eight floors up), and after that the cockroach problem largely disappeared. Definitely my worst experience with a jupped item.

My favorite jupped item was my guitar. I found it in a pile of garbage in the hallway of an apartment building in Causeway Bay. It was an old acoustic guitar and the back had split, so I took it home and taped it up. I bought new strings for it, and once it was all put together, it sounded fairly decent for what it was. I managed to keep it with me almost the entire two years I was in Hong Kong. I never had a ton of time to play it, but it was nice to have just the same, as it kept me from forgetting everything I knew while I was in HK. It was also good for irritating other people, like Dawkins, the accomplished viola musician that I served with a couple times. Like many classically trained musicians, Dawkins was a music snob, and being a BYU Presidential Scholar, he also had a pretty high opinion of himself and a major type A personality. My chugging out Slayer and Metallica riffs always drove him crazy. That doesn't mean, however, that I would stop. Thinking about how irritated he would get by the fact he couldn't control me still puts a smile on my face. As a side note, my linguistic abilities also drove him crazy. We were in the MTC together, and I think learning Cantonese with me in the class was the first time he had ever experienced not being the best at something. What made it even worse for him was the fact that I had a tendency to fall asleep in class--every class, regardless of the time of day. So, while the genius sat attentively, paid attention to every word and studied like crazy, I put forth no effort and still spoke way better than he did. He yelled at me in frustration for this more than once. It was nice to see him squirm. I should write more about him sometime, as he was also the cause of the weirdest, most awkward church meeting I have ever attended. More on that some other time.

Anyway, as I mentioned, I took my guitar with me to each new area. In what I thought was my last area, Mui Wo, I decided it was time to sacrifice the guitar to the gods who had so graciously bestowed this junk guitar on me. Two other guys and I took it to the roof of our three-story apartment building, and I threw it off the top. I should have checked to see if there was anyone outside before I did that, because the lady from Zaire that lived across the path screamed and went running for the door when she heard the "explosion." We quickly ducked and rolled around on the floor in laughter. I have a picture of the shattered guitar on the ground somewhere in storage. If I ever find it, I'll have to scan it and post it.

The Chinese don't bake, so I never lived in an apartment that came with an over. One weekend, a counselor in the English district presidency, who lived in Discovery Bay, asked us to help him move to his new home. He was the senior legal counsel for Intel Asia, and as such, incredibly wealthy. He was moving from a large house (yes, a house--extremely rare in HK) to an even larger house (he told me the rent was US$8000/month--crazy, but also not the worst rent I heard about while I was there). Discovery Bay is an interesting place. All the land in the entire city/development is owned by one man, so everyone that lives there does so on a lease--no purchasing of property is allowed. This man also dislikes religion and cars, so churches were forbidden (we had to borrow rooms at the local international school for church services), and cars were outlawed (at the time you couldn't drive to Discovery Bay, as no roads in or out had been built). Discovery Bay was its own little world. You could only get to it by boat, and once you were there, you could only get around by golf cart or bicycle. Anyway, as we were helping this family move, the father mentioned that they weren't taking the oven they had with them since their new place already had one. The oven was connected to a gas bottle (there are no natural gas lines in HK), so I asked him if we could take it. He said we could, so at the end of the day I borrowed a cart from him and put the oven on the cart. My companion and I wheeled the cart about a mile to the ferry pier, and then clumsily tied the oven to the front of the ferry so that we could get it home to Mui Wo. The sight of an oven on the front of this small boat must have looked ridiculous, but hey, I wasn't going to let this opportunity get away from me. It was another mile at least from the ferry pier to our apartment, so getting the oven home was a major hassle, but in the end, it was all worth it.

It was October or November when we got the oven, and it turned out to be a lot of fun for me personally. As I mentioned, the Chinese don't bake, and really, I didn't either. Still, having the oven encouraged me to try baking cookies and lattice-top apple pies, and I made both for branch parties and members that I liked. Not knowing how to bake, the Chinese were truly impressed with these baked goods, despite the fact that they were really simple and hadn't taken me a ton of time to make. I forget what those cookies with the Hershey Kiss on top are called, but those were the cookies I made the most with the jupped oven. I once took a plate of them to a gathering at Sis. Tam's home in Tuen Mun (I don't remember exactly why we traveled so far for this), and I can vividly remember her niece, Cindy (whom I later baptized), going crazy over them as soon as I took the foil off them. She ate several of them before dinner, and had sloppy chocolate stains on the side of her mouth when she was done--pretty funny for a girl who was in her late teens. She always had a weird thing for chocolate. There are chocoholics and there are chocoholics, and then there was Cindy.

I don't think I've jupped an item since I left HK. I hate used stuff, for the most part, and typically will only buy used movies, music and books--nothing else. The thought of buying used electronics or even a used car makes me sick. There's something about not being the first owner of an item that really bothers me. I kind of have the same feeling about my current car after this recent accident. All the cars I've personally owned were purchased new, but as soon as I've been in a car accident (as has happened with all of them), they've no longer felt right to me. They're used; they're damaged goods; they're no longer pristine. That really bothers me. I certainly felt that way when I got my car back from the auto body shop yesterday.

Maybe if I lived on $200/month again, I wouldn't care any more. I hope I don't ever have to go back to that.

the beggar

Currently listening to the soundtrack of the movie The Devil's Rejects

In most ways, I've never considered myself to be a generous person. My siblings and I rarely shared anything, and when we did, the relationship was more like that of a banker and a borrower than it was brother-to-brother or brother-to-sister. In some ways, this was a bad thing (particularly if you were the borrower), but in other ways, it was good because we all learned and knew the value of money and of respecting property rights. In any case, growing up with this mentality meant that outside of paying my tithing, I wasn't the most generous person in the world, right or wrong.

As a new missionary, I decided to be more generous and charitable as I thought a missionary should be. Like most missionaries, I never had much money, but I decided one morning that I would give a HK$5 coin (about $.65) to the old homeless woman I saw sitting on the ground across from Victoria Park in Causeway Bay on most days. I felt really good about what I had done, and it seemed like a great way to start the day. I don't remember if it was that day or the next, but I later saw this same woman counting up all her money on the ground. I looked at the stacks of money and realized she was taking in a lot more money begging than I was getting a month for my allowance. Disgusted, I vowed to never give money to a homeless person again. To this day, I still haven't.

Because of this experience and because of things I've read in the news about charities wasting donations on high salaries and extravagances, I've become extremely suspicious of anyone who wants a handout. The idea of my money being wasted is so repulsive that I'd rather not give than think about where that money might be going.

I find my company's annual United Way donation campaign particularly annoying. When I first joined the company, there was a lot of pressure from executives for everyone to donate. That pressure has decreased considerably over the last few years, but the campaigns have gotten worse in another way: length. Each year, a donation goal is set (it's currently between $4 and $5 million, if I remember correctly), and each year, the amount of money pledged by employees is far short of the goal the company has set. In order to "encourage" more giving, the campaigns get extended each year. When I joined the company, the campaign was one week long. Now, the campaigns seem like they're one month long. It's impossible to avoid the myriad signs, bake sales and tables selling "casual day" stickers. The United Way has previously been the subject of the kind of scandals I mentioned above, and between this and the ever-present pressure to donate, there is no way I could do so and feel good about it, so I never have.

I started donating to a charity last year, the Nature Conservancy, but it took me several years to find this charity. I knew that I was interested in environmental causes, but then I was concerned about political agendas and how exactly my money would be used. The Nature Conservancy appeals to me because it works with governments and businesses to come up with mutually beneficial solutions to environmental problems, rather than fighting these institutions/organizations and getting too involved in politics and promoting their political agendas, like Greenpeace and the Sierra Club do. I also like the fact that I get periodic updates from the Nature Conservancy on their efforts around the world, including every state in the United States.

My stinginess didn't begin with that beggar in Causeway Bay, but she certainly helped it along.

the squall

Currently watching The Rock on Blu-ray

One night in the summer of 1997, Cornia and I had just finished an appointment in a small village near Sai Kung. It was dark, and because there were often dogs walking around in the village, we carried our umbrellas in hand as a precautionary measure. As we walked toward the bus stop, we heard a loud rustling in the bushes, so we got our umbrellas ready. We soon learned that it was not dogs coming toward us, but rather a wall of heavy rain. This was the heaviest rain I'd ever seen, and despite having umbrellas, we were soaked by the time we got to the nearby bus stop.

A double-decker bus soon arrived at the bus stop, and we went to the second floor when we got on, as missionaries typically did. We found all the windows open when we got to the second floor, so being the doers of good deeds that we were, we set about closing all the windows. When I got to the last open window, I was unable to close it. I tapped the latch with the palm of my hand, and when I did that, the window shattered. Cornia thought I had fallen out the window of the moving bus and screamed in horror. I was, however, quite alright, with the exception of the small cuts I had on my arms from the shards of broken glass. Aside from Cornia, there was but one other person on the bus, an old man sitting in the second row on the top deck. He looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and said "It's not your problem."

I later learned that during squalls, hurricanes and other heavy storms, it was standard procedure for bus drivers to open all the windows on the buses in order to keep them from being blown over by the wind. So much for our good deed...

bad luck

Currently listening to: Dizzy Gillespie - The Matrix Sessions

On New Year's Eve, an internet friend who is interested in astrology and the occult did two tarot card readings for me (each reading was based on a different deck of cards). The purpose of the readings was to predict what kind of year 2008 would be for me. In both readings, I was told that 2008 was going to be an incredible year for me--lots of opportunities, a very positive financial situation, etc. I don't really believe in that stuff, but it was nice to get the good news. The readings were certainly better than the ones another friend gave me several years ago, before I got married. In those readings, I was told, among other things, that my girlfriend was deceiving me about something important (turned out that she was). If I were a believer in tarot cards, I would have been very worried.

If 2008 continues the way it has been going, the cards will have been completely wrong. My bad luck started right before the end of 2007, and it has continued to the present:

- Anyone who knows me knows that I am obsessed with music. I always have it on, and I have way too much of it. Much to my delight, Apple came out with a 160GB iPod in the summer of 2007. Finally, a device that could hold almost all of my movies and music. A week before I went on vacation, it started locking up once a day. Not a good sign for a hard drive-based device. On Christmas Eve, I decided to plug it into my computer so that I could hear some tunes through my computer speakers. When I did this, I got a message stating that I needed to reload the iPod's software. Not good. The iPod had wiped itself completely clean. At the time, I had 131GB of content on it. A very traumatic experience, especially considering the fact that I had a week to go before I could get home to listen to most of my music or have Apple look at it. Fortunately, they replaced it when I got back, no questions asked.

- I left work early one day last week to pick up some vegetables at a local upscale grocery store (they always have the best produce). While I was waiting to turn onto the street where the store is located, I was rear-ended by a Subaru Outback. I have already been without my car for a few days, and don't expect to get it back until at least Friday. I love my car, and part of the reason I love it is because of the stereo system, which is half the reason I bought it and the primary reason I sought out the car in the first place. Once again, I've been deprived of quality tunes.

- One of my favorite movies last year was "The Bourne Ultimatum." I had received the HD DVD of this movie in the mail the morning of the car accident. After the accident, I no longer felt like cooking, so I ordered pizza and had planned on spending a quiet evening calming down and watching "Bourne." I put the movie in the player and pressed play, and the player locked up. I tried playing it two more times, but still nothing. Great, a defective disc. No "Bourne" was watched that evening.

- I caught wind of a potentially major problem with a product that I manage while I was on vacation. After further tests last week, we decided to pull the product off the shelf. This was not before lots of meetings, running around, talking to lawyers and PR people at my company. This also meant that I was not able to leave the office at noon on Friday, as I had planned. The madness is not over yet, either. We still have to figure out what to do about the 50,000+ people who bought the product before we learned about the problem.

Considering what I've been through, 2008 can only get better from here. It would have been nice if the tarot cards had warned me that the year would start out poorly and then gotten better, but then, it's not like I would have believed it if they had.

thanks

Today is Thanksgiving, and it's been a slow, quiet day. I've taken a couple of naps already, and am contemplating taking a third.

I don't typically think of being grateful for anything on Thanksgiving. I just enjoy getting together with family for some good conversation and a good meal. This year isn't much different, but I have thought a bit about what I should be grateful due to some things I've read on the internet. I frequent a few bulletin boards, and have seen posts today where holier-than-thou haters of the current presidency and/or state of America have seen fit to lecture the rest of us on being grateful, or rather, on how none of us are really grateful and how this holiday is built on generations of lies about what Thanksgiving was versus what it has become.

It's interesting how there is always a segment of society who wants to ruin the things people love by trying to remind them of their heritage. Christmas is another example. I don't celebrate it for religious reasons, but I do celebrate it because I enjoy the lights, the trees and the good feelings that surround it. Sure, it may have once been a pagan festival that was replaced by a Christian holiday, but that means little to me. The meaning of words, dates and events often changes over time, but that doesn't mean that we have to focus on their original meaning. For some, Thanksgiving may be a symbol of Europeans taking something that wasn't theirs and making it their own, but for me, it's a time to rest and enjoy life with people I care about...and that's just fine by me.

Motorcade

For the first time in my post-college career, my cubicle is next to a window. The main freeway next to my office is right outside my window, so I often look out the window to see what the traffic situation is before I leave for the day. When I looked out the window last night, I discovered that the freeway had been closed in the direction I needed to go. President Bush came to town yesterday to do a fundraiser for Sen. Norm Coleman, so the freeway had been closed to allow the president's motorcade to get through. Nice of the two politicians to schedule this fundraiser right during rush hour.

Since my usual route home was closed, I decided to wait until the freeway was open again to leave the office. I waited by the window and watched, and after about 10 minutes, the motorcade passed by. It must have been at least 15-20 vehicles: white vans, black suburbans, motorcycles, police cars, etc. I kept wondering when the train of official-looking vehicles (except for the vans; they seemed oddly out of place) was going to stop. It may have been inconvenient, but it was pretty interesting to watch.

Living vicariously

Currently listening to: Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison

I subscribe to many different publications, including Maxim and Esquire. Both magazines are fairly entertaining, and although I enjoy being entertained, that's not the only reason I subscribe to them.

My job requires that I interact with lots of different people, and different kinds of people. Most of these people are not intellectual in any way, which often makes it very difficult for me to talk to them, because that's typically the way I would like to engage with people. I wasn't in a fraternity, I've never gambled or passed out in the street in Vegas, and I've never been to Mexico for spring break. I don't watch Survivor or American Idol, I don't typically go to happy hour and never drink when I do. I'm not from the Midwest, and am not familiar with many of the places people here talk about or go to. I don't have a boat, don't go out on the lake and don't go ice fishing. I don't golf, don't follow the Vikings, Timberwolves, Twins or Wild. These are the kinds of things people around me typically talk about, and as such, finding a way to connect with people can be difficult.

That's where Maxim and Esquire come in. Not only do they have fairly entertaining articles and commentary, but they also give me a chance to better understand popular culture and events without actually being a part of them. And reading magazines is quite a bit cheaper anyway.

You paved the taxis with beer on the shore

Currently listening to: Gato Barbieri - Under Fire

After a period of a few years in which I listened predominantly to jazz and classical music, I'm once again listening predominantly to rock. That doesn't mean, of course, that I don't still listen to music from other genres, like right now. In any case, most rock music has lyrics, and I always entertain myself by trying to figure out what the lyrics are, or by making up my own based on what I think I'm hearing.

A case in point would be the title of this entry, which is my guess at a line in The Beatles' "Lucy in the Sky." I never knew what the lyrics actually were until a minute ago, when I looked them up:

"Newspaper taxis appear on the shore"

Oops. At least I got the "on the shore" part correct.

One of my favorite albums of the last couple of years is The Dillinger Escape Plan's "Miss Machine," which is a heavy, chaotic album that is often classified as "math rock" or "mathcore" music due to the unusual time signatures employed by the band in its music. In any case, very few of the lyrics on this album are coherent, and that coupled with the hardcore screaming delivery makes this album a goldmine for the lyric guessing game. A couple of examples:

My guess: "Cry your eyes both times while there's still time"
Actual lyric: "Cry your eyes bloodshot while there's still time"

My guess: "Savory words, again the gnats just speak"
Actual lyric: "Say three words like the last you'll speak"

Maybe even more fun than trying to guess what the lyrics on this album are is trying to figure out what the actual lyrics mean. From my favorite song on the album, "Baby's First Coffin":

Dear god protect us come on blackest heart she stares forever and then some never again polished barb wire smile tricks And treats she's done so cut her again gut her again silence tells us we're damned jesus we've gone and done it again Jimmy's got a new gun in his hand you're being a liar I'm stealing the show you're being a liar I'm ready to go how could You doubt we would ever find out the emperor is dead goodbye to god dead so long embrace defeat you know we both agreed to It stick the diamond to it gust of wind to the face never returning favors take the prison to the man I could promise the World if we could travel through time don't back out on me now relax and remember the promise of the sign I wish you could See yourself now you look at me like a child the way you glide across the room instrument of seduction let go of it Rapunzel let it down wait for the signal then bring it down with a smile now become the conductor the way you slide across The room how wonderful the connection did the last kiss still taste as good as the first or is this just the opening scene of a new play I look At you like a child but not at all like you looked at me but grace is already dead now is the time to come and face the Master you should never say yes when you really mean no

No idea what that all means, but the song is great.

I've often commented to my wife that I missed my calling as a lounge singer. Singing like Frank Sinatra or Tony Bennett can be a lot of fun, and unless I'm a lot more tone deaf than I think, I think I do it fairly well considering my lack of training/experience. On the other hand, singing hardcore music a la Dillinger Escape Plan or Minor Threat would be great too. Maybe I could alternate nights in Vegas.

sound quality

Currently listening to: The Rolling Stones - Hot Rocks 1964-1971

I was listening to The Pixies' Surfer Rosa this morning and decided to read up on Steve Albini, producer of this apparently very influential punk album (I say "apparently" because I'd only heard one song from it before I bought it, and partially bought it because it was offered in the SACD format). The album has a fairly dry, homemade feel to it, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, considering the fact that much of what comes out these days is overproduced and spliced together with computer programs like Pro Tools.

I found this interesting article about Steve Albini, the equipment he uses, and his recording/record-making philosophy. If I was in a band and was going to cut a record, Steve Albini is the kind of person I would want to record/produce the record. He favors analog equipment and recording methods, gives the band as much creative control as possible, and refuses to charge exorbitant fees just because he's well known and has worked with many famous artists, including Nirvana (In Utero). It seems like the guy really cares about music and artistic integrity, and would rather record a band the way it really sounds lives than play games with sounds and use computer tricks in order to manufacture music.

Other than Surfer Rosa and In Utero, I don't know if I own any other albums produced by Steve Albini. I can say, however, that both albums have a very natural, if underproduced, feeling to them. There was a time in my life when that was a bad thing (In Utero's sound was certainly a departure from Nevermind), but over the last few years I've learned a lot about sound quality and sound reproduction as I've researched these subjects and invested in higher-end equipment and new audio formats that are more capable of faithfully reproducing original recordings than CDs, and as I've learned and listened, I've learned to tell the difference, and the difference is not a bad thing--it just takes some getting used to. Attending more concerts, especially classical concerts in acoustically superior venues, has also helped me to learn what instruments really do sound like versus what I usually hear on CDs. Understanding this difference can be frustrating, as it has left me hungry for more expensive equipment and better recordings, but I'd rather be informed than in the dark.

Interestingly enough, many audiophiles claim that the best sound quality is to be found with records and turntables, not CD, SACD or DVD-Audio. While this has certainly piqued my curiosity, the idea of dealing with turntables, needles and something I can't control with a remote isn't all that appealing to me, so I've avoided going the vinyl route.

Better movie sound quality is also being made possible with the advent of HD DVD and Blu-ray, the competing next-generation movie formats. Huge increases in disc storage capacity (currently 30GB for HD DVD and 50GB for Blu-ray) versus what DVD is capable of (8.5GB on a double-layer disc) not only allow for higher quality video, but higher quality audio as well. I'm eagerly awaiting the development of receivers capable of decoding the new lossless compression codecs, Dolby TrueHD and DTS HD Master Audio, that are being used on many of the next-gen movie releases. Actually, I should clarify my comment: I'm eagerly awaiting the development of such a receiver by a manufacturer that will be sold in one of my employer's stores. Onkyo has released two such receivers, but since my employer doesn't do business with Onkyo, I can't take advantage of my employee discount. In any case, even without such a receiver, I've been impressed by the sound quality I've experienced from HD DVD and Blu-ray, despite the fact that I haven't experienced the full potential of either.

I love you

Although I should stop drinking soda altogether, I bought a couple different flavors of Stewart's Fountain Classics soda the other day. I really love this stuff. Key Lime flavor is surprisingly good, but Strawberries 'n' Cream is the flavor I usually buy. I also bought a six-pack of IBC black cherry soda. Also very good, but Stewart's is better. Whatever the case, either brand makes most other sodas taste like crap by comparison.

Number 1

I've already spent three hours on the phone with Sony customer service today. Perhaps it would have been less if I hadn't hung up the phone twice. It's a national holiday, so I can't help but wonder if there's anyone even there. And then, of course, there's the paranoid side of me that tells me that they're purposely understaffing their call center so that other nameless victims and I can't get return merchandise authorization numbers to return the junky products we have the misfortune of having purchased directly from Sony. Lesson learned.

In any case, what to do when you're bored and on hold? Start a blog, of course.