Entry 290: How Had I Never Heard of This Guy Before?

I have gotten really into watching James Randi videos on YouTube lately.  Somebody posted one on Facebook a few weeks ago (actually I linked to it in my last entry), and I liked it, so I started watching others.  Then I started researching James Randi (a.k.a., The Amazing Randi) online and found that he's a really interesting dude; I can't believe I had never heard of him before.  He's a magician who's now in his late 80s, who has made it his life goal to investigate (and usually debunk) claims of supernatural power.  His foundation has an open offer of $1 million to anybody who can prove they have ESP by passing a series of scientifically-controlled test.  (Unsurprisingly, nobody has ever claimed the prize -- although some of the attempts are pretty funny.)  He's appeared quite a few on various media to debunk famous so-called psychics.  He was particularly critical of Uri Geller back in the day (so much so that Geller unsuccessfully tried to sue him) and more recently Sylvia Browne (before she passed a few years ago) and John Edward.

[This is probably my favorite clip.  In the comments they say how Randi replicated Walters' drawing.  It's pretty cool to go back and watch him do it, once you know -- very slick.  I don't think I ever would have figured it out on my own, but I wish I had tried.]

This type of thing is right up my alley.  I love seeing charlatans get exposed -- perhaps too much so.  As I said in one of my previous entries:

I loathe charlatans, and hearing about one getting her comeuppance (kinda) is a total guilty pleasure of mine -- so much so, that I literally felt guilty about it.

But the thing that really stuck out to me in watching all these huckster do their things is how many people actually believe it.  The top psychics are extremely wealthy from selling books, hosting TV shows, and doing very expensive private readings.  Who's believing this crap?  The worst is "cold reading," which is where a person asks a bunch of questions to another person or a group of people until he or she gets a few hits and then claims it's a psychic power.  There isn't even an illusion involved.  (Here's a nice clip of James Van Praagh, showing off his "uncanny" powers.)  The only thing about cold reading that's remotely interesting is that it's possible to hone in on a truth in fewer questions than people might imagine, if you ask the right questions.  But it's not psychic power; it's math.  It's the power of exponential growth (or this case its inverse, logarithmic decay).  For example, suppose somebody is thinking of a number between 1 and 16 million, I could get the number every time if you gave me just 25 yes-no questions; I could do between 1 and 549 trillion with just 40 questions.  Being that cold readers can fire off 40-plus questions a minute and a reading lasts several minutes, being able to tell somebody that they have a relative named Mike whose death was painful for the family is simply not at all impressive.  And yet Sylvia Browne could charge $700 for a 20 minute reading.  Remarkable.

Although, perhaps not really that remarkable considering that as I type this, I can look out my window and see three churches without leaving my house.  If you think about it, believing in psychic power is not any more ridiculous than believing the stories behind any of the major religions, and many people I know and love and respect believe these stories, so ... I don't really know what to think.  Or maybe they don't believe them literally, maybe they just believe them allegorically (but then they're not true believers, right?).  Or maybe they believe the general idea, but not the specific canons.  Or maybe they don't believe them at all, but they just go with the flow because that's how they were raised, and it's easier to go along with it than it is to push back.  Or maybe they really like the cultural/social aspect of their religion, but not the actual "religion" part.  I don't know.  I've come to the conclusion that I just don't get religion and probably never will.  I'm fine with it.  I mean, yeah, spending eternity in hell will suck, but at least I can sleep in on Sunday morning while I'm alive.

Anyway ... Time is of the essence this weekend, as it often is these days, so let's hit some bullet points.

• Religion and its validity is a very apropos topic for me today, as S and I went to see The Book of Mormon last night (date night, whoo!).  I thought it was really good.  Some of the humor is pretty juvenile, but it's from the people who do South Park, so that's do be expected.  (Plus I like juvenile humor, if it's cleverly done, which it usually is by Matt Stone and Trey Parker.)  One thing I realized is that, in general, I don't love musicals.  I found myself watching the show and wanting more dialog.  Overall, the show didn't quite live up to the hype for me.  But it made me laugh a lot, so what more should I want?  Plus, it's cool to go to an event at The Kennedy Center.  It feels so sophisticated... and expensive.  I won't say how much S and I dropped all together on the tickets, the taxis, and the babysitter, because I don't know, and I don't want to find out.
• I just had to restart my computer, as I have to do from time to time because my computer bogs down the Internet (regardless of the browser) to the point of uselessness.  (I know it's the computer and not the WiFi because it works fine on every other device.)  I'm convinced that it's Windows 8.  It sucks.  Few things are more annoying than buying the newest version of something and having it work worse than the older version.  And this seems to happen frequently with Microsoft products (remember the Vista disaster).  Why can't they get it right?  Do they rush out their releases?  Also, this isn't really specific to Microsoft, but I think the tablet/laptop in-one is a failed concept.  I have one, and in two years, I literally have never disconnected my screen and used it like a tablet.  I much prefer having a laptop be a laptop and a tablet be a tablet.  But maybe I'm just getting old and stuck in my ways, and in a few years the laptop as a singular device will be obsolete.
• Speaking of technology, I was contacted through LinkedIn by a rep for major tech firm.  (I won't say which one, but you've heard of them -- they're a hot new company.)  He liked some of my research and wanted to talk to me about opportunities with his company.  By no means am I looking for a new job, but it's always good to keep your options open, and I was flattered by the outreach, so I agreed to talk to him.  The conversation went well, but it was very vague.  There was no talk about a specific position or an explicit offer or anything like that.  It was more a here's-what-we -do, here's-what-I-do type of conversation -- a feel-out-the-situation type of thing.  Afterwards he asked if he could set me up to speak with somebody else at his company, and I said sure (again, it doesn't hurt to listen).  So he sends an email to both me and the woman he wants me to talk to, but he phrases the email in a way that makes it complete ambiguous about who is suppose to contact whom.  So I wait a few days and don't hear anything.  Then it's like -- do I send them an email?  I don't even really know what this is all about.  If this guy is trying to recruit me or at least interested in me, why didn't he ask the person in his company explicitly to contact me?  Isn't that the logical progression?  It's like I'm now supposed to take the lead on this whole thing, but I don't know what or whom I'm supposed to lead.  Anyway, I ended up sending an email saying I'd be willing to talking more.  That seems reasonable.  But still, the whole thing feels a bit strange to me.
• In sadder news, as I'm sure you know, another mass shooting went down a few days ago.  A young white supremacist went into a black church. and, after sitting in on a prayer session, shot and killed a bunch of its participants.  We will never know what caused him to do this, but we can certainly rule out two things: racism and lax gun laws.  After all, everybody knows that racism is a thing of the past (except for reverse racism -- that shit is real!) and lax gun laws actually prevent more deaths than they cause.  I mean, it's true that you never actually hear of a "good gun with a gun" saving the day, but that's only because the media is biased -- they hate stories of amazing heroics that everybody would follow and would make them tons of money.
• I'm sure you've already seen it, but I'm putting a link to this Jon Stewart clip anyway.
• On a lighter note, this weekend the US Open is being played at Chambers Bay golf course in my hometown -- my actual hometown, where I was actually born and raised, not my fake hometowns, Tacoma and Seattle, which I often claim for simplicity -- University Place, Washington (although back when I was growing up it was an unincorporated area of Pierce County, not an official city).  I watched a little bit of the tournament on TV, said to myself "yep, that's it alright," and then turned it off and haven't watched since.  I'm not a big golf guy.  If it's close, I might watch the last few holes tomorrow.
• I read this interesting article about screen time, and how it probably isn't the boogeyman we parents make it out to be.  This was my favorite quote in it: 

 To judge what impact TV has on children, we have to think about tradeoffs — what would kids be doing with their time if they weren’t watching television? There are 24 hours in a day. If your kid watches one less hour of TV, she does one hour more of something else. The AAP guidelines imply that this alternative activity is something more enriching: reading books with dad, running on the track, discussing current events with grandma, etc. 

 But a lot of kids and families may not use an additional hour in these ways. An hour of TV may be replaced by an hour of sitting around doing nothing, whining about being bored. Or, worse, being yelled at by an overtired parent who is trying to get dinner ready on a tight time frame. If letting your kids watch an hour of TV means you are better able to have a relaxed conversation at the dinner table, this could mean TV isn’t that bad for cognitive development.

•  Well, if we are giving Lil' S too much screen time, it certainly isn't hurting his dexterity.  He got to the top of the bars (and back down) without me coming within five feet of him.  He's not even three yet. If only his potty training was as good as his climbing.

Until next time ...

Entry 289: Instant Calamity

You have heard of the John Lennon song "Instant Karma?"  Well, my trip to Joplin, Missouri, for my cousin's wedding was something a bit different: Instant Calamity.  I had a thing happened to me at the airport that I had never even heard of happening to anybody: My flight was canceled on my way from security to the gate.  I was walking down one of those super long corridors you find at big airports, and in the distance I noticed an usually long line at the service kiosk at what looked to be my gate.  I suspected this was not a good thing, and then I knew for sure when a buzz in my pocket revealed a text saying that my flight had been canceled for "maintenance" -- not delayed, outright canceled.  I stopped in my tracks glanced back up at the formidable (and growing) queue, and thought to myself, "Shit.  What now?"



A fellow traveler -- some random middle-aged woman -- must have noticed me and read my body language, because she approached me and asked if I was booked on the flight to Chicago that just got canceled.  I said I was.  We commiserated for a few beats and then started shuffling unenthusiastically toward our old gate, which had quickly descended, it appeared, into full-fledged chaos.  Luckily, however, a friendly twentysomething bro overheard our conversation and gave us the heads up to go to the main United customer service kiosk at the other end of the concourse because they had more service agents and the line was shorter.  So that's what we did.  Before too long I was speaking face-to-face with a United service rep.

United was willing to fly me out on any flight that had an opening, but there were not many options.  My final destination was the Springfield-Branson Airport, which is not exactly LAX is terms of traveler throughput.  (I later drove to this airport, giving myself plenty of time to account for traffic, before realizing it's more likely to be delayed by cattle crossing than other cars.)  All flights had me arriving after 9:30 p.m., which meant I would miss the rehearsal dinner (starting at 6:00), and I would have to spend all day in the airport.  The thought of each of these outcomes was extremely disheartening.

Feeling more and more defeated with each flight option arriving later than the next, I started thinking about surrounding airports.  I thought I remembered hearing about Joplin having its own little airport, so I asked the service rep about it, and she clacked a button, "No sir. There is no airport in Joplin."  (The funny thing, in retrospect, is that there is an airport in Joplin -- a bunch of my relatives used it.)  Next, I looked on my phone to get an approximate drive time from Kansas City to Joplin -- about three hours.  Long, but doable.  I asked about Kansas City.  She tapped some more buttons and said, "There's one that arrives in KC at 2:40 pm."

"Book it!"

She did, and I turned and started to walk away, and then turned back: "Wait ... what about my luggage?"
"Oh ... You got luggage?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm ... Okay, I guess can put in a transfer request."
"Request?"
"Yeah, it's just something we put in the system to do a transfer."
"But you said 'request'... It will get to Kansas City for sure, right?"
"Yes.  It should."
"Should?"
"Yes sir, it should... Oh, and sir, here's a meal voucher for your troubles."

It was the least confidence-inspiring assurance I've ever received.  I was certain my suitcase was going to end up on a baggage carousel in an abandoned airport outside Butts, Missouri -- but what could I do?  The voucher was worth $7.

To complicate things, I was supposed to meet my parents in Springfield and drive them in my rental car to Joplin.  Now not only did I have to change that reservation, I had to book myself a car in KC.  The former was relatively easy; the latter was more complicated than it might sound, because a) my flight was leaving soon, b) the woman at Dollar Rental Car was fighting me over returning the car to a different city than it was rented (my return flight didn't change -- it was still out of Springfield), c) she had an accent, which, with the cell reception, made her very difficult for me to understand, d) I was hungry and irritable.  It wasn't until I threatened to call one of her "competitors" that she finally acquiesced -- while charging me a hefty fee, of course.  I was not really in a position to argue, so I just agreed and finalized the reservation.  I then hustled across the walkway, bought a sandwich, and then hurried to my new gate and onto the plane.

I instantly decompressed into my plane seat.  It was an intense hour-long scramble, but now I had nothing to do but sit for a few hours.  I looked out the window, and in one of those seemingly insignificant, but actually quite remarkable bits of happenstance, I saw my bag going up the conveyor belt into the belly of the plane.  "Wow," I thought, "I might just pull this off."  I put my hand in my pocket and felt the meal voucher.  I didn't even remember to use it.

The rest of my trip to Joplin was pleasantly uneventful.  My new flights were on time, my luggage did in fact arrive at the correct destination, the rental car transaction was easy, and the drive from Kansas City to Joplin was completely devoid of the heavy traffic I'm used to in traveling the Eastern seaboard.  I arrived at my hotel about ten to six and literally bumped into my Uncle J in the lobby.  He was on his way to the dinner with a group of a half dozen family members.  I said some harried hellos, and then hustled to check in.  As I was leaving, my uncle pulled me aside and said, "Clean yourself up.  Take a shower."  I couldn't tell if he was being overly affable, or if I really did need to bathe, so I bolted to my room, took a "navy shower," slapped on some deodorant and clean clothes, and then found my parents' room.  They hadn't left yet, so we were able to go to the dinner together.  This was one time when my mom's general leniency toward punctuality worked in my favor.

The dinner was nice -- so was the ceremony, and the reception for that matter.  Weddings are kind of like dreams in that they aren't interesting unless they involve you, so I'll just hit the tangential highlights.

• My cousin's husband is from Arkansas, so the wedding had a bit of a Southern feel to it.  (In fact, I think Joplin should have a new slogan: Welcome to Joplin, Missouri: Where the Midwest meets the South)  My cousin is also relatively young, 25ish, and if you combine these two things -- Southern and young -- you end up surrounded by a bunch of "kids" who look like they are 15, but all have wedding rings on. 
• It was a Catholic ceremony (I'm surprised this is still allowed, I mean, with the War on Christianity, and all), so there was a fair amount of scripture reading and prayers.  I never bow my head or close my eyes when asked to pray.  It's my own little pointless protest -- although every now and then I make eye contact with another non-believer and give a knowing nod.
• Between the ceremony and reception a group of us got ice cream.  There were two cars going, so my dad and my cousin's wife coordinated the location.  The problem is that they put in the wrong address for the ice cream shop -- it's a local chain and they put in the address for location B, thinking it was the address for location A -- so the Maps app on the iPhone started taking us in the "wrong" direction (away from A, toward B).  We realized we were going the wrong way, so we turned around and found location A on our own.  After that everybody (by which I mean mainly just my uncle) made fun of the Maps app and refused to believe it for the rest of the trip.  But the app actually had it right.  We were the ones who had it wrong.  
• One good thing about taking the wrong route is that I got to see a bit of Joplin (get your kicks on Route 66).  You probably recall that it was devastated by a tornado four years ago, and the signs of the wreckage are definitely still present (there is a sizable treeless strip cutting through the city), but it's remarkable how much of it is rebuilt with new houses and businesses.  Humans are pretty resilient, when we need to be.  (My uncle's and aunt's house was not in the strike zone, thankfully.)
• At the reception venue, the locks on the bathrooms didn't work properly -- after they clicked you had to turn them once more to get them to lock -- so people kept walking in on other people peeing.  I was one of the first -- I opened the door and was surprised to find it already occupied by a young woman with her dress hiked up, sitting on the john.  (My immediate reaction was one of repulsion, so I guess I don't have a pee fetish.)  I said, "whoops!," and she said "sorry!" and I closed the door and fled the scene.  I'm not quite sure, why she was apologizing.  It was a bit embarrassing, but I don't think either of us really got a good look at the other one.
• After the reception, my cousins and I met at the hotel bar.  It was fun, until this drunk dude spoiled it.  Some guy who was somehow related to my cousin's husband decided to join us ("Hey ... Y'all are from the wedding, right?"); he was annoyingly drunk, and probably not somebody whose company I would enjoy even if he was sober.  His topics of conversation consisted primarily of: a) his arsenal ("My ex-wife got my sniper rifle in the settlement, but she don't know about my grenades."); b) his hatred for Bill Clinton, perhaps oblivious to the fact Clinton's gubernatorial term in Arkansas ended 23 years ago ("He is not what Arkansas needs right now!"); the windows at his old house ("I'm still $2,000 in debt on those damn windows, and I don't even live there no more."); and his divorce proceedings ("I saw the bill for my lawyer, and thought 'Shit, I'm better off just paying her directly'").  At first he was kind of entertaining, but like all drunken fools, he quickly became unbearable.  For the better half of the night, I just wanted him to leave, but he wasn't budging.  As a nice little added "bonus," when he final wore us out, and we decided to turn in, he gave my cousin C a very creepy hug -- one of those from-behind, over-the-head-hugs (my cousin was sitting, he was standing) where the forearm slides down a little to close for comfort.  He was a real peach.
• As I was walking back to my room, I overheard one of the other wedding attendees -- a guy who was somehow drunker and more idiotic than the guy at the bar -- using the n-word.  When I turned the corner, and he realized I had probably heard him, he got embarrassed, and his wife scolded him -- "You know you can't use that word!  That's offensive!" -- but you can't unring that bell.

Pretty much everybody cleared out of Joplin the following afternoon, Sunday, but I had to drive to a hotel in Springfield and fly out early Monday morning (I had a 5:00 a.m. flight).  We used S's miles to book my ticket, but in order to do so, the options were limited.  The flight out Monday morning was significantly cheaper -- like several hundred dollars cheaper -- than anything on Sunday, even accounting for the extra night at a hotel.  The Springfield airport is tiny, and it's in the middle of nowhere, so there wasn't much to do but chill out in my hotel room.  I watched some interesting videos on YouTube (free, fast wi-fi at least); I ate at the only diner in the vicinity (one of those places where the waitress hacks and wheezes and calls you "hon," your entire meal costs $9.00 with tip, and everybody else in there, staff and other patrons alike, is seemingly coated in a thin layer of grease); and I watched the Cavs beat the Warriors in the NBA finals (unreal performance by LeBron).  

[The menu from the restaurant.  I stayed away from the "Oriental Food."  Somehow I just didn't think it would be very authentic.] 

Everything was going fine until ...

*Buzz*

"Your flight to Chicago (UA931) is canceled due to weather."

Sigh ...

I had never had a flight canceled on me before, and now I had two in three days -- unreal.  I checked the weather online, just to make sure that this wasn't some sort of mistake, but indeed storm icons were covering the Chicago area.  I called United to rebook.  They were not nearly as accommodating this time, because since inclement weather, unlike maintenance, is not their fault, they will only rebook you on one of their pre-approved carriers.  This meant I either had to fly through Chicago on a flight that had not been canceled (yet), which I didn't want to do for obvious reasons, or fly through Denver in the evening, which I also didn't want to do, because that mean I would have to wait all day in Springfield to fly halfway across the country in the opposite direction to get on a flight that would arrive on in D.C. in the middle of the night.  That made no sense.  So after getting nowhere with a service rep I asked to speak to a manager.  

When the manager got on the line I launched into a travel-weary, semi-coherent, half-suppliant, half-aggressive plea.  I don't remember exactly what I said, I just remember I was frustrated, and I was spitting out everything that happened to me over the past few days as fast as I could.  If was part service call and part cathartic rant.  I finished with, "I know the weather isn't your fault.  But what I'm asking is that, in these extraordinary circumstances, you get me on a flight from Springfield to Dulles that arrives at a reasonable hour and doesn't go through Chicago.  I don't care how -- just do it. Dulles is a huge airport; I know there are other flights that go there.  I don't care what airline or what your business agreement is with them.  Just get me on.  That's what I'm asking you.  This is a good chance for you guys to keep a customer."

"Huh," is all I got in response.  

[A few pics of the Springfield Airport.  Yes, they are open.]  

But she did in fact switch my ticket to a flight through Atlanta.  I finally got into Dulles around 5:30 p.m., and I was home by 7:00.  I had to miss another day of work, but it was not so terrible, all things considered.  It could have been worse.  When I got home, I hugged S and Lil' S until they pushed me away.  I was only gone three days, but it longer, much longer.

Until next time ...

Entry 288: Not-In-Grad-School-Anymore Moment

My youngest cousin is getting married on Saturday in Joplin, Missouri, and I will be in attendance.  I'm flying out tomorrow morning and flying back early Monday morning.  This is the under-card trip to my main event two-week vacation to the PNW at the end of the month.  Actually, my initial reaction was to not go to the wedding because of my big trip; it took some coaxing from my wife to make me realize there was no reason I couldn't do both.  Here's a conversation that transpired a few months ago.

Me: We got an invitation for my cousin's wedding.  It's June 6.  Aw, that sucks.  I guess we can't go, bad timing.
Her: Why can't we go?
Me: Well, you will be super pregnant, and then we will have to bring Lil' S, and that will be a nightmare.
Her: Well, you could go by yourself.  I'll watch Lil' S.
Me: Yeah, but that won't work.  I have the big trip out to visit the fam at the end of the month -- remember?
Her: Yeah, so?
Me: We'll have to buy another ticket.  We can't just buy another plane ticket?
Her: Why not?  We can afford it.
Me: Yeah, but I'll have to take time off from work.
Her: Just a day or two; you can just go for weekend.
Me: Yeah, but ... Hey, you're right!  I can go!  I love you, babe!  You're the best wife ever!!!*

*Conversation not exact.

The thing is, even though I've been out of grad school for five years now, I still haven't completely shaken my grad school mindset.  In grad school, I didn't have the money to just fly somewhere for a weekend.  I had to save for all my trips and basically could take only one a year.  I wouldn't dream of taking two trips in the same month.  But more than the money was the time.  (After all, if I really wanted to do something and didn't have the cash, I could put it on my credit card, like I did with a trip to Vegas back in aught-six.  Totally worth it, by the way.)  There was no such thing as idle time back then; there were no free weekends.  I basically had to budget my time as if every moment I wasn't sleeping or in the classroom or expunging my bowels had to be devoted to doing research (and even with the latter I'd often bring my books into the bathroom with me).  Of course, I did take breaks, and I did go on vacation, but they were few and far between, and I had to plan long in advance and structure my schedule accordingly.  It's still a weird feeling for me to just be able to "do nothing" for a weekend and not fall behind.  As long my kid is covered, there is nothing that I legitimately have to do on the weekends -- no research, no grading.  Like I said, even though I'm five years remove from grad school, it still takes some getting used to.  I guess 13 years of higher education leaves some deep imprints on a man.

And by the way, we shall see if now that S actually is super pregnant -- it's not just an abstract idea in the future -- she will regret giving me the go-ahead to leave her alone with our impish son for the weekend.  Actually, I think she will be fine.  She's arranged an overnight trip with one of our friends who has three kids to some place called Sesame Street Land or something like that.  So that will take up most the weekend.  Plus, at least for me, sometimes it's easier to take care of Lil' S by myself, because he acts differently when there is only one of us around, and because I can do everything the way I want to do it -- maybe that's just me though.

Anyway, since I still have to pack, I'm a bit short on time tonight, but I did want to touch on the big story of the week.  The "birth" of Caitlyn Jenner.  What a weird story -- not a bad one, of course, but a weird one.  It's not everyday that the former "Greatest Male Athlete in the World" transitions into being a female.  (Although in The World According to Garp, John Irving did create a transgender ex-football player, Roberta Muldoon, played in the movie by John Lithgow.)

The most amazing thing to me about the story is how accepting of Caitlyn the general public is.  We've come so far as a society on the acceptance of LGBT people just in my adult lifetime it's amazing -- and legitimately heartwarming.  Sure, we've still got the haters -- people like Mike Huckabee, Rick Santorum, Ted Cruz, and even one or two who aren't Republican presidential candidates (hey-o!) -- but these people are becoming more and more marginalized and looking more and more like the bigoted dinosaurs they are with each passing day.  We're moving in the right direction on this one.  I really believe this.  On other issues like systemic racism, the War on Drugs, inequality, and climate change, well, let's just say I'm not quite as optimistic.  But those are topics for another day.

Until next time ...