Monday, September 20, 2010
Artist Recommendation
Christoph Niemann has a blog over on NYTimes.com that I recently discovered. Looking through his past posts I am amazed at his creativity and sense of humor. Great stuff!
Thursday, September 16, 2010
So there I was, standing on top of a chair in my bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, with a screaming fire alarm in my face at eight in the morning. Or, how I learned the importance of fire safety.
I live on the second floor of a fairly old house in an apartment that I rent from my landlady, who also happens to be the occupant of the two floors below me. When I first moved in she pointed out that the smoke/carbon monoxide detector in my hallway not only beeps when it goes off, but also speaks in both English and French to let you know what is going on. Last night I also learned that it speaks to tell you when the battery is low by yelling “LOW BATTERY!” alternately in English and French every few hours. I am not kidding…
I first heard the thing go off last night but decided to put off the hassle of climbing on top of a chair and fiddling around with it until I got some more sleep. Plus (as I later learned I quite accurately assumed) I figured the thing would be beeping and yelling the whole time I was messing around with it, so to be considerate to my neighbors I refrained from starting this process at 2 am.
Finally, at eight in the morning I could take no more…plus I had to get up for work. I found my spare battery, climbed on top of a chair and started the fiddling. Here are a couple of things that proved to be somewhat challenging, especially in the ‘keeping it down’ department:
The ordeal finally ends when the detector is securely fastened back on the ceiling, the chair is put away, and, as I walk away into the bathroom to get ready for the day, it lets out one final BEEEEEP, which I believe to be its way of saying ‘kudos’ to a worthy adversary. Kudos to you too, smoke/carbon monoxide detector. Kudos to you too.
I first heard the thing go off last night but decided to put off the hassle of climbing on top of a chair and fiddling around with it until I got some more sleep. Plus (as I later learned I quite accurately assumed) I figured the thing would be beeping and yelling the whole time I was messing around with it, so to be considerate to my neighbors I refrained from starting this process at 2 am.
Finally, at eight in the morning I could take no more…plus I had to get up for work. I found my spare battery, climbed on top of a chair and started the fiddling. Here are a couple of things that proved to be somewhat challenging, especially in the ‘keeping it down’ department:
a. The detector has both a battery and a hook up to the electric system in the house. When the electric system cords are unplugged the detector goes BEEEEEEEEP!
b. The battery chamber has a special tab called a ‘battery detector’ which must be placed under the battery or the detector goes BEEEEEEEEEP!
c. Upon the correct insertion of the battery, the plugging in of the detector back into the electric system also corresponds with a shrill BEEEEEEEEEEP!
d. When screwing the detector back into the ceiling mount, accidentally pressing the centre button (which is so huge it is pretty much impossible to miss) precipitates the “test” function of the detector, during which it emits a series of VERY LOUD BEEPS as well as a full run down in English AND French of what one would hear had the alarm actually gone off for legitimate reasons.Needless to say, at this point my poor cat is darting from room to room trying to make sense of this whole sorted affair and I have, at the very least, piqued my land lady’s curiosity about the alarming (pardon the pun) sounds emanating from my apartment. Which is why she knocks on my door and gets to witness the beauty of me in my bathrobe and slippers explaining to her that “yes, I know what I am doing”, “no, there is no actual fire in my apartment”, “yes, I do actually have a spare battery”, and “no, I don’t need help trying to figure this sucker out”.
The ordeal finally ends when the detector is securely fastened back on the ceiling, the chair is put away, and, as I walk away into the bathroom to get ready for the day, it lets out one final BEEEEEP, which I believe to be its way of saying ‘kudos’ to a worthy adversary. Kudos to you too, smoke/carbon monoxide detector. Kudos to you too.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Grandma and Gramps is gettin' down!
While in university, I took what ended up being a pretty lame course about the anthropological study of the human life cycle. It had potential, but unfortunately the professor’s high-school approach to the whole thing drove me bananas. She welcomed personal stories about students’ family members (boooring!) and actually made us watch an MTV show about spoiled brats celebrating their 16th birthdays and compare it to a well-respected ethnography by Margaret Mead. Ugh! (As a side note, despite the fact that my assignment was steeped in sarcasm and fairly open hostility towards the whole endeavour, I totally aced the thing which further lowered my respect for the prof…and on it went like that for the whole term.) Anyway, I digress…
The teacher’s assistant for the course was a graduate student who had chosen to focus her studies on the “autumn years” of one’s life. And not just focusing on seniors and what they are up to, but specifically looking at their sex lives. I have to admit the whole thing makes me feel somewhat uncomfortable, which I think is exactly why she chose this field of study. She was partially trying to examine North American’s inability to see people over a certain age as sexual beings. One of her examples that continues to stick out in my mind is about seniors in “old folk’s” homes fighting for the right to bring prostitutes into what, according to the managers of the homes, is a personal space to be treated as one would treat their house. A debate ensued; was it the lack of understanding and the pure “ewww” factor of senior citizens paying for, and enjoying, sex that was the issue, or was it purely the legal ramifications that were driving the managers’ ban? Needless to say, not one participant during this debate chose to start their argument with “well when MY grandpa is feeling lonely…”
The reason I started thinking about this is due to an article published today over on Salon.com discussing the sexual practices of older adults, and more specifically, the rise of STDs within this demographic. A report published by the Family Planning Association reveals that over the past 10 years the number of men and women in the over-45 age group with STDs has doubled. Chlamydia in women in the same age group has increased by a whopping 95% within the past nine years. The article adds that the Center for Disease Control reports a 17% rise in cases of AIDS among senior citizens! This is perhaps most surprising when examined within the current barrage of public campaigns about practicing safe sex.
And that is precisely where the majority of the explanation lies, according to Mary Elizabeth Kelly, the author of the article. Most people who are now over the age of 45 did NOT grow up under the same barrage of “safe sex” campaigns than those even a few years younger than them. I have also recently heard a similar explanation for why drinking and driving has decreased dramatically within the youngest drivers, but has remained relatively unchanged within the older age groups despite the somewhat recent “war” on this social evil.
Most importantly, as pointed out by Kelly, we cannot look at such sets of data and search for one simple explanation. A piece of this is no doubt cultural, but a piece of it is individual and is impossible to accurately gather and analyze into a comprehensive argument. It does make me think though about what the younger generations are learning now that will work to their advantage over “old folks” like me. It also makes me think about what my, as well as other generations, have been taught that will only work to the detriment of a healthy and happy life.
The teacher’s assistant for the course was a graduate student who had chosen to focus her studies on the “autumn years” of one’s life. And not just focusing on seniors and what they are up to, but specifically looking at their sex lives. I have to admit the whole thing makes me feel somewhat uncomfortable, which I think is exactly why she chose this field of study. She was partially trying to examine North American’s inability to see people over a certain age as sexual beings. One of her examples that continues to stick out in my mind is about seniors in “old folk’s” homes fighting for the right to bring prostitutes into what, according to the managers of the homes, is a personal space to be treated as one would treat their house. A debate ensued; was it the lack of understanding and the pure “ewww” factor of senior citizens paying for, and enjoying, sex that was the issue, or was it purely the legal ramifications that were driving the managers’ ban? Needless to say, not one participant during this debate chose to start their argument with “well when MY grandpa is feeling lonely…”
The reason I started thinking about this is due to an article published today over on Salon.com discussing the sexual practices of older adults, and more specifically, the rise of STDs within this demographic. A report published by the Family Planning Association reveals that over the past 10 years the number of men and women in the over-45 age group with STDs has doubled. Chlamydia in women in the same age group has increased by a whopping 95% within the past nine years. The article adds that the Center for Disease Control reports a 17% rise in cases of AIDS among senior citizens! This is perhaps most surprising when examined within the current barrage of public campaigns about practicing safe sex.
And that is precisely where the majority of the explanation lies, according to Mary Elizabeth Kelly, the author of the article. Most people who are now over the age of 45 did NOT grow up under the same barrage of “safe sex” campaigns than those even a few years younger than them. I have also recently heard a similar explanation for why drinking and driving has decreased dramatically within the youngest drivers, but has remained relatively unchanged within the older age groups despite the somewhat recent “war” on this social evil.
Most importantly, as pointed out by Kelly, we cannot look at such sets of data and search for one simple explanation. A piece of this is no doubt cultural, but a piece of it is individual and is impossible to accurately gather and analyze into a comprehensive argument. It does make me think though about what the younger generations are learning now that will work to their advantage over “old folks” like me. It also makes me think about what my, as well as other generations, have been taught that will only work to the detriment of a healthy and happy life.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
A good post written by a guest author over on the Matthew Good blog regarding the planned burning of the Qu'ran by some crazies
...an excerpt
"I have no need for a “God” in my life, nor care to pray at bedside and yet, without attribution respect and love “God’s universe”, and hold fast to decent virtues and steady values, logical ethics and morality. I see my errors, and live to overcome them. I see my weaknesses, and work to strengthen them. I see how fallible and how fragile I, and others are.
The message I wish to send to extremists on 9/11 is this: I will not become extreme by you."
...an excerpt
"I have no need for a “God” in my life, nor care to pray at bedside and yet, without attribution respect and love “God’s universe”, and hold fast to decent virtues and steady values, logical ethics and morality. I see my errors, and live to overcome them. I see my weaknesses, and work to strengthen them. I see how fallible and how fragile I, and others are.
The message I wish to send to extremists on 9/11 is this: I will not become extreme by you."
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Down at the Ol' School House
Today is the first day of classes for many students, young and old, who are embarking on a new chapter of their education (including my sister! Good Luck A-B!). I am not one of them, yet I still see the Tuesday after Labour Day as the beginning of something new. For me this date, much more than January 1st, signals the promise of a new day and of new possibilities. I guess that makes sense since I have been a student for more years of my life than not, and as a student I always experienced a giddy mix of anxiety and excitement the first time I stepped foot in a high school corridor or on a university campus for the year.
In retrospect, the years within one particular institution seem to flow together with very few distinguishing features, but I suppose it was the feeling of possibility that made the first week or so very intoxicating and exciting. I remember even in my 6th year of university walking into every new lecture hoping for some new and entirely different experience. Unfortunately, the more lectures one attends, the more one realizes they are all pretty much clones of each other. Yes, there are good profs and bad profs who make the subject matter exciting or dull, but at the end of the day the same schema is being observed—2% excitement over a new idea or interesting presentation, otherwise a fairly dull 98% of note-taking, and, on my part anyway, crossword-solving.
And yet, I miss it. At least I was learning. Perhaps that is what the excitement was all about for me…because even though it is a rare 2%, sometimes my mind was challenged in ways that still linger with me years later. Sometimes the instructor or a fellow student can make things that you knew for sure seem like mere conjecture in a span of minutes. I suppose that is what I miss the most. Although the experience could occur on the last day of school – it was the first week of school that possessed the anticipation of such events to a palatable degree. The 9-5 experience has no such excitement for me…no such promise of a challenge to my world view or the possibility of a new idea taking root in my mind that will blossom into something that changes me as a person over the months to come. Yep, university, and even the rare high school class was that profound for me.
So, on this first day that signals the beginning of a new chapter for so many students across Canada I can’t help but feel jealous. It makes me sad that for many, this time is one of dread and loathing, when for me (at least in hindsight) it was one of great development and self-exploration. I am hoping that I can harness the residual excitement of that first week of school that I am experiencing today and use it to search out some new ideas or make some lofty goals based on my optimism of what the next few months can bring. And, as anyone who has ever been a student and can share my optimism about the near future knows, I need to get this going ASAP because those midterm ‘blahs’ set in pretty quickly.
In retrospect, the years within one particular institution seem to flow together with very few distinguishing features, but I suppose it was the feeling of possibility that made the first week or so very intoxicating and exciting. I remember even in my 6th year of university walking into every new lecture hoping for some new and entirely different experience. Unfortunately, the more lectures one attends, the more one realizes they are all pretty much clones of each other. Yes, there are good profs and bad profs who make the subject matter exciting or dull, but at the end of the day the same schema is being observed—2% excitement over a new idea or interesting presentation, otherwise a fairly dull 98% of note-taking, and, on my part anyway, crossword-solving.
And yet, I miss it. At least I was learning. Perhaps that is what the excitement was all about for me…because even though it is a rare 2%, sometimes my mind was challenged in ways that still linger with me years later. Sometimes the instructor or a fellow student can make things that you knew for sure seem like mere conjecture in a span of minutes. I suppose that is what I miss the most. Although the experience could occur on the last day of school – it was the first week of school that possessed the anticipation of such events to a palatable degree. The 9-5 experience has no such excitement for me…no such promise of a challenge to my world view or the possibility of a new idea taking root in my mind that will blossom into something that changes me as a person over the months to come. Yep, university, and even the rare high school class was that profound for me.
So, on this first day that signals the beginning of a new chapter for so many students across Canada I can’t help but feel jealous. It makes me sad that for many, this time is one of dread and loathing, when for me (at least in hindsight) it was one of great development and self-exploration. I am hoping that I can harness the residual excitement of that first week of school that I am experiencing today and use it to search out some new ideas or make some lofty goals based on my optimism of what the next few months can bring. And, as anyone who has ever been a student and can share my optimism about the near future knows, I need to get this going ASAP because those midterm ‘blahs’ set in pretty quickly.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
She is so purdddy!
This is pretty amazing! Video of rotating Earth as seen from the International Space Station.
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