Entry 826: RIP Mr. L.

I woke up late this morning. Left to my own circadian rhythm, I would sleep in until noon and stay up until 4 am. But I can't do that due to having a family and a job, so I have a weekday alarm set for 6:45 and a weekend alarm set for 8:30. Somehow the latter got turned off, and I didn't realize it, so I just slept in, long after S had awakened (5:45; she just got back from England and went to bed at 8:05 last night), and I surely would have kept sleeping had Lil' S2 not banged on our bedroom door and shouted at me at 9:45: "Dad! It's almost ten o' clock! You need to get out of bed now!" S took Lil' S1 to a friend's house to go to a ren faire, so they were both gone, and I think Lil' S2 was just bored and wanted me to get up for company.

I heard S pull up as I was getting dressed, so I hustled and made it look like I didn't just wake up. She wouldn't really care—and I had just spent the week with the kids by myself, so surely I had accrued some marital equity—but still... She told me that we had Mr. L.'s thing in a few hours, which I had completely forgotten about. Our elderly nextdoor neighbor died a few months ago—while we were in India, I believe—and his memorial was this afternoon. We had gotten to know him and his wife quite well, so we definitely wanted to pay our respects, but we had no idea as to what type of event this was going to be. His wife only told us via text that it would be today from 12:30-3:00 at a restaurant because he didn't want a big sad funeral. Was it an open house or something we needed to be there right on time for? Should we plan on being there the entire time? Was it formal attire? We didn't know.

I decided to wear nice jeans and a button-up shirt—basically what I wear when I go to the office. I got the suit jacket out and put it on and looked at myself in the mirror, but I didn't love the vibe. Everything is just so informally nowadays. I never lived in the time when men wore suits and ties every time they left the house  but I definitely lived in the time they wore suits and ties to a memorial. The times have changed, though, and at many events in which formal attire used to be the norm, you will look out of place if you are wearing it now. On the other hand, this memorial was sure to be filled with people from that older, more formal generation, so I was slightly worried I would be underdressed.

I needn't have been. When we arrived (about 12:45), I quickly realized that this was not at all a formal event. Very few men had on ties or suit jackets and many were dressed even more casually than me. It also was not a very well-organized event (by the admission of one of the organizers). Actually, that's not exactly true—the program looked cool and they had a little jazz band there and good food was on the way—it just wasn't at a big enough venue. Apparently, many more people came than they were expecting, so there were a lot of people standing (including us), and there wasn't even much room to stand. It became clear that we weren't going to make it through the entire event. I mean, how could we eat when we could barely lift our arms up without bumping the people next to us?

We listened to everybody give their mini eulogies—it was all very touching; he was a good dude with many friends and family members who remembered him warmly—and then when there was a lull in the program, we followed an old lady through the tightly packed network of tables and chairs to his wife Mrs. L, figuring we would just pay our respects and leave. The other standers (including our neighbor across the street, who arrived shortly after us) apparently had similar ideas because a little makeshift procession line formed behind us. We went though and gave Mrs. L hugs and well-wishes, and then we met her sons and their families (one of whom is moving in with her, next to us, soon), and then we headed out. We were probably only there for about 20 minutes, but it was good.

Since we were hungry and (kinda) dressed up we decided to go out for lunch. Only Lil' S2 was with us (ren faire, remember), and for some reason S told him that we would go wherever he wanted. But he picked Chipotle, and I vetoed it. I would not have wanted to go to a nice Chipotle, and the Chipotle near us is not nice. It's fine for carryout, but the restaurant area is disgusting. There is always food on the table and napkins on the floor, and it's frequently filled with obnoxious teenagers (which probably explains the other two things). Thankfully, we were able to talk Lil' S2 into a different Mexican restaurant, one with servers and bussers who wipe down the tables, without too much of a fight. It helped that this place has a big TV in it, so he could kinda watch the Ohio St.-Indiana game while we ate. Football is a good salve for him, just like it is for me.

Speaking of which, I have a Zoom audition Tuesday evening for a spot on ESPN Jeopardy!. I didn't even know there was such a thing as ESPN Jeopardy! until a few weeks ago when my friend (who was once a champion on actual Jeopardy!) sent me an advertisement for their online any-time test. I took it last Wednesday, and I felt like I did pretty well on it (45 out of 50 or so), and apparently I did because I got an email the next day inviting me to submit an application with photos and information about me and all that. So, I filled that out and submitted it, and then the next day I got an email telling me I had advanced to the next round and needed to schedule a live audition.

It's pretty exciting, but I'm trying (and mostly succeeding, I think) to not get my hopes up. I know a ton of people who made it to the audition stage of Jeopardy!, and they didn't get chosen. It's still a long shot. On the other hand, I also know a lot of people who made it to the audition stage and did get chosen, and I have to imagine the ESPN version is less competitive, so... who knows?

Alright, gotta go. I think S wanted to do something as a family tonight, and I'm running out of time to go upstairs and say, "Hey, are we gonna do something tonight?" with any credibility.

Until next time... 

Entry 825: Fall Olio

It's been a kinda dud of a morning so far. I woke up and almost instantly engaged in virtual battle against Tesla. They charged us $100, directly deducted from our checking account, for a self-driving subscription that a) we never signed up for, b) is for a car that we don't own and probably doesn't even exist anymore. We were able to get our bank to cancel the payment, so all good there, but still, it made me realized that we need to disentangle ourselves from the Tesla web completely. This is part of the brave new world in which we now live. We all need to add "Remove Vehicle and Delete Profile" to our list of things to do after we sell or total a car. This never even crossed my mind. Once our car was gone, I deleted the Tesla app from my phone (good riddance!) and got on with life, not thinking that of course all the background data was still being stored and was active and could still be used against us.

So, after we got this bogus charge nullified, I set out to delete our accounts and depart the Tesla world* once and for all. Easy written than done, of course. Since I deleted the app already, I started on the website and followed the instructions to delete my account. It wouldn't let me because it said I had to remove our vehicle from our profile first. But I couldn't do that because the vehicle isn't controllable from my profile, only from S's. So, I logged in using S's credentials and went to remove the vehicle, but there is no option to do that on the website (at least that I could find), and all the instructions online say to do it from the app, so I reluctantly downloaded the app again, and logged in as S.

*It's a shitty world. The car itself is actually really good, but everything that comes with owning it kinda sucks. Repairs take a long time and are super expensive; everything that can possibly be run by AI is run by AI, so getting support is dystopian and dehumanizing; and apparently you get charged for shit you never asked for. One thing this ordeal reinforced is that it's nice to not have a Tesla anymore.

The prompts for removing a vehicle through the app are straightforward, if you sold it—not so much if you totaled it. I called Tesla support (even more reluctantly than with downloading the app) and talked to a robot who told me to follow the same prompts as if we sold the car to a third party. I guess technically we did that with our insurance company, but that's not what people think when they get in an accident. When my neighbor asked what happened to our Tesla, I didn't tell him we sold it to a third party. What would be nice is if the prompt on the app says "Sold to Third Party or Totaled in an Accident," then it would be crystal clear as to what button to tap. To any event, I submitted a request to remove the vehicle that probably doesn't exist anymore from our account, and it told me it takes a few hours to do this, so I'll check back later today. If it actually removed the vehicle, then I'll try to delete our accounts. If it didn't, then I'll probably have to call that robot back. I removed all forms of payment from both of our accounts (we don't even remember linking our checking account, which is a bit disconcerting), so they don't (or at least they shouldn't) have a way to extract money from us in the meantime.

Then, after I was done with all this (for the time being), I had to clean up a mess of undercooked chocolate chip cookies. Lil' S1 was baking them for some event he's going to later today. He frequently uses the same recipe, and the cookies are delicious, but the stated cook time is never long enough, so they are too doughy if you follow the instructions to a tee. Instead of remembering this and leaving them in the oven a few minutes longer, Lil' S1 always takes them out before they are done and then insists that they are fine. I would be wise to bite my tongue and just let him deal with his mushy cookies, but for some reason I can't do that, which today led to the following conversation.

Me: You need to cook these longer they aren't done.
Him: Yes they are. They'll harden. Look this one is brown on the edges [points to the most cooked one].
Me: They aren't going to harden that much. Look at this one and that one and that one [points to a bunch that are still super doughy]. These aren't done.
Him: Fine. I'll put this tray back in. But the other ones are done.

[As he's clumsily putting the cookies back in, he drops the tray, it flips over, and everything falls onto the backside of the open oven door in a messy pile.]

Him: This is your fault!
Me: How is it my fault? You dropped the tray because you weren't holding it properly.
Him: You're the one who told me to put them back in the oven! If you didn't say that, this never would have happened.
Me: So if I ask you to go to the store, and you trip on your way out the door, that's my fault?
Him: Yes!

[About a half-hour later, he's taking the cookies from the other trays and putting them into a Tupperware container.]

Him: Actually, you were right—a lot of these cookies are too soft. 

In other news, we have a doubleheader flag football game tomorrow. We had to reschedule a game a few weeks ago because we didn't have enough kids (half our team went to Michigan to watch the Wolverines lose to Iowa on a last second touchdown), and this was the only way the league could do it. It's a holiday on Monday and parent-teacher conferences on Tuesday, so the kids have four days of no school, so I had to make sure enough people would be in town this weekend before I signed off on the doubleheader. It would be very embarrassing to reschedule only to have to cancel again for the same reason. Well, we have enough kids, but now storms are in the forecast, so there is a decent chance everything gets called off because of inclement weather. Wouldn't that be ironic? It's like ra-a-a-ain on your football games...

We are scheduled to play probably the best team in the league tomorrow, and, honestly, I wouldn't be completely bummed if we have to miss them. We've actually had their number the past two years, beating them three of four times, and our only loss came by a single point under dubious circumstances (the referees told me the score and then changed it later when the opposing coach argued about it). But we aren't as good this year. We lost three really good players and replaced them with one not that good player. So, if we have to miss the best team, I won't be heartbroken. We will probably play them in the playoffs anyway.

Despite our personnel hit, we are off to a very good start. We're 3-0 and the games have been really fun. Everybody is getting more playing time, and kids are stepping up and making the most of it. Lil' S2 didn't play much defense in past games, because he plays quarterback, sometimes the entire game, so it's hard to justify also playing him a lot on defense over other kids who don't see the field as much. But at most we have two subs each game this year, so Lil' S2 gets to play a lot more D, and he balled out last game. He had two interceptions, including a game-clincher. (He also threw three or four touchdowns and caught one on offense.)

Part of that was my brilliant coaching, and I'm only being half facetious. Our opponent had this big kid on their team, tall and thick, and although he wasn't very fast, he was killing us early on because our defenders were too small to D him up properly when we were in zone, and he was catching everything on them. So, I made a switch to man-to-man, and put Lil' S2 on him, because he's decent-size (though not as big as the other kid), and he's physical so I knew he wouldn't get outmuscled at the point of the catch.* Sure enough, they try the big kid again, after I make the switch, and Lil' S2 wins the jump ball for the INT, and then he got another one later in the game too. 

*You can't make overt contact, in this league, but it's kinda like basketball, where the more aggressive kids get the rebounds because they get to the right spot and box out.

That's the thing. I've had to do more coaching this year, because the players aren't quite as skilled, and one of the players we lost (who is excellent) is the son of my former co-coach, so now it's just me, and my responsibilities have doubled. It's forced me to get more creative, which doesn't always work. (I called a play for a kid who doesn't get the ball much last game, and he was wide open, but not even looking for the ball (doh!), so our QB had to throw it to somebody else.) But it is really satisfying when it does. We have this kid on our team who can't catch very well, but he's pretty fast, so I called a wide receiver reverse for him on first down, hoping we'd get five or six yards and have second and medium, and he took it to the house for a touchdown. It was awesome.

We still do a lot of silly things—like throw an interception in the end zone when all we need to do is burn clock—and if we really need a big play, sometimes I'll tell our quarterback "just throw it to Z" (our best receiver, by far). But that's 11-year-old football. Heck, that's any football. Every week I watch NFL games, and think to myself Why did they do that? There is usually not a satisfying answer. Actually, there is: football is played by humans, and humans make mistakes. With the AI takeover seemingly imminent, this is something to celebrate, not lament, in my opinion.

Until next time... 

Entry 824: Anticipation

I was thinking about anticipation today, and I decided that there are four ways in which I anticipate something. There is negative anticipation, neutral anticipation, positive anticipation, and experiential anticipation. The first one on my list, negative anticipation, is also known as dread. It's when I just don't want to do something, because it's going to be horrible, but I know I have to for whatever reason. I just got some very expensive, very painful periodontal work done on Monday, and I was absolutely dreading it (but that's a whole other post). There are many other examples. They differ greatly in severity—some things fill me with extreme anxiety; some just slightly annoy me—and in type—dreading periodontal work is very dissimilar to dreading a difficult conversation with my spouse—but they all share the property of negative anticipation.

The flip side of this is positive anticipation or eagerness. This is the feeling of looking forward to something. Again, these things can be very different in scale and type, and they are highly personal to me (I couldn't care less about the new season of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, but it seems to Lil' S1's favorite thing in the world at the moment), but they are all things I am very eager to do. 

Neutral anticipation is in between dread and eagerness. It's basically normal life—going to my job, running errands, shuttling the boys around. Most the time, these things are not negatively or positively anticipated by me. They just are.

The last type of anticipation, which I call experiential anticipation, is the most interesting, I think. This is when I want the experience of something, but I don't really want to do it. And note, wanting the experience of something is not the same thing as wanting the outcome of something. It's a journey-versus-destination thing. I didn't go to college don't just to get a degree or even just to get the knowledge that college afforded me; I wanted to actually go to college.

I think exercise is a good illustration of these four types of anticipation. Sometimes I dread exercise and don't do it or only do it because I feel compelled to do it some reason (usually health benefits or aesthetics).* Sometimes I just do it because it's part of my routine, and I don't really think much of it. Other times I really like it and look forward to it. Then there are yet other times, and these probably constitute a majority of the time, when I don't look forward to exercise as an activity, but I look forward to it as an experience. It's enriching and rewarding, and not just because of the results, but because of the act itself. So I want to do it, even though at that moment I might not "like" it.

*I rarely have negative anticipation for exercise, but I have had it before. I used to dread wrestling tournaments that required me to wake up early in the morning, but that's probably more due to the waking up early in the morning part than the exercise part. It's why I've never done the Army Ten-Miler here in DC. I was going to sign up for it once when S and a bunch of our friends did it, but then I realized I would have to wake up at 6:30 am, and I was like nope. I foresaw myself lying in bed the night before staring at the clock at 1:30 am, conversing with myself Okay, if I fall asleep right now, I can still get five hours. But you can't fall asleep right now, you fool! That's the entire problem! and didn't want any part of that.

I realized that as I've gotten older I anticipate more and more things experientially. I want to do them, but I don't want to do them. This dawned on me the other day when I was walking out of a networking event. I serve on an advisory board for my graduate school alma mater, and we had our annual in-person conference yesterday. As I was walking out of the building when it was over, I felt this strong sense of relief that it was over, but it wasn't relief like that was painful. It was a satisfying sense of relief like I've done my duty. I did a thing that is enriching and rewarding, and that I like doing—I genuinely enjoy interacting with all these interesting people I would never interact with otherwise—but for some reason I'm never particularly eager to do. Like, if Thursday evening I got an email saying the conference had been postponed a month, I would not have been bummed in the slightest. I would have thought Okay, cool, I have other things to do, anyway.

Travel is another great example of something I often have experiential anticipation for. Going to India this summer was wonderful. It was super fun, and I had a great time, and I would do it again, but I'm saying that in retrospect. In the lead-up to it, I was not super stoked about it, even though I knew that I was going to like it. It's kinda weird. And I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it's neither; maybe it's just a thing. On the one hand, things I used to have positive anticipation for have been shifted into the experiential anticipation category. I've outgrown a lot of my this is going to be the coolest thing in the world exuberance. As a child and young adult, there would be events—games, parties, concerts, etc.—that my insides would be churning over, in the best way possible, in anticipation. And I just don't feel that so much anymore.

On the other hand, why is that a bad thing? I have other things in my life to replace this feeling. I mean, a big reason I used to anticipate things so positively was the glimmer of hope Maybe the girl I like will be there, and this was true even if I didn't like a particular girl at the time. But that hasn't been a relevant thought in nearly 20 years. I think my shift in how I anticipate things might just be part of a natural progression away from a desire for excitement to one of satisfaction. And the answer to my question is that it's not actually a bad thing.

Alright that's all for today. Until next time...