Had a first today – missed my flight home. It was totally my fault, and Airtran was very nice about it – simply rebooking me on the 9:30pm (I missed the 6:44 by arriving at 6:55, close, but no pleasant evening with friends). So here I sit in Terminal D of BWI – nursing some kinda airport beer and asking if they’ll substitute coleslaw for the fries.

Speaking of fries – I’m fried. Too much travel – too many fires. I’ve been on back to back trips for two weeks now – and (more important) averaging above 50% on the road for the past three months. That’s excessive. I renewed my gold status at my favorite hotel chain and rental car company in less than a quarter. Eek. The reason for all this excitement is that things are coming to a head at a couple of different customer sites. I’m actually excited at the chance to finally fix things for these people (rather than replacing band-aids again) – but in the words of my colleage: “the allure of the tiny soaps wore off a long time ago.”

Thus, when redmed pranked me for ignore the internet day by saying that she wanted to quit her job and start a yarn store craft co-op, I bit and bit hard. I’m still running numbers in my head – and I don’t think that we can be right in the stylish part of town unless we have a prostitution or alcohol sideline. $4k per month rent for a storefront is just too high – especially if we want to quit our day jobs. However, if we can do something creative to make the storefront pay for itself … there are possibilities.

In other news, I’m continuing to purify the mental environment. Facebook, twitter, and livejournal are tools for me. They do not exist to make me a slave to anyone. Therefore, I’ve been quietly purging the ranks. If I’m no longer rising to your flamebait – it’s probably because I noticed that I got pissed off most of the time you tweeted or updated a status. It’s not that I don’t like you. Drop in any time for a civilized cup of tea – it’s just that your presence on the net bugs me. No hard feelings, mmm’kay?

Last week, technolope came over for a quick lunch, which is one of those rare treats when you work from home. We went to Common Grounds cafe, an eclectic little restaurant around the corner from my house.

The restaurant is run by a small community of Christians who in the 60’s “stopped going to church,” and “started being the church.” Based on my recent reading, they appear to hark back to the very earliest communities of Christians – valuing things like self sufficiency and living slightly apart from the rest of their civilization. While they live as overt Christians, their evangelism is limited to a note at the bottom of the menu: “We serve the fruit of the spirit, why not ask?” I’ve never asked, and they’ve never pushed.

The restaurant is amazing. The internal architecture and decoration is all handmade from reclaimed lumber. Every table is a different shape and size, and in the winter a large stone fireplace warms the whole room. The food is, mostly, locally grown on the community’s farm in Western Mass. It’s tasty, filling, and mostly vegetarian. It feels like a tiny slice of community in the middle of the city.

Anyway, technolope and I had our lunch, and when the time came to pay – I was making chit-chat with the man behind the register and he looked at my T-shirt. “Teach the controversy, what does that mean?”

I realized that I was wearing my “Pb -> Au” shirt, which specifically mocks the creationist crowd.

Uh oh.

I explained that “teach the controversy” is a slogan used by people who want to include biblical creation in the science curriculum of public schools. That the shirt makes fun of that, since the mere presence of a controversy didn’t suffice – in my mind – to make something “science.” There will always be people with ideas that are not science – should we include all of them? Even alchemy?

Another couple people had wandered over, and asked “so do you oppose teaching creation in the schools?”

technolope had, at this point, settled back, made metaphorical popcorn … and was watching the show.

I did my best to stay positive, but also to clearly state my position. To do that, I needed to talk about what I believe – rather than letting the conversation be about what they believe. I wound up with something like this: Philosophy and religion are different from science. Science is, necessarily, about evidence. About predictive models with real world power. In some basic cases, like electromagnetism, it’s pretty simple to test in a couple of hours in the classroom. Either a given setup will make the lightbulb go on, or not. Newtonian mechanics are similarly straightforward. In other cases, like evolutionary biology and astrophysics, we wind up looking at the preponderance of evidence and having to make a bit of a judgement call. We can’t actually re-play the evolution (or not) of multicellular life with even a week or a month in a high school lab.

To their credit, they didn’t let me off the hook. “So you don’t think that creation should be taught in the schools?”

I had to admit that, no, I don’t think that the biblical creation story qualifies as science. I tried to lighten it with the fact that I don’t think that physics qualifies as religion.

Long story, less long: I got called out, and learned that I’m not as ready to back up my snotty t-shirts as I might have liked. Back to the honing stone … gotta sharpen that wit.

I read an article about day trading today. I had thought that day trading was dead, but apparently the get rich quick crowd is still into it. It was interesting to note that every trader they could find to interview had found a way to monetize the activity itself (subscriptions to webcasts or blogs or whatnots) rather than relying on making money on their trading in and of itself. That should tell you something right there.

As technolope opines: “You should realize that any day trader that actually makes money day-trading won’t need to sell subscriptions.”

I’ve never traded stocks for the short term. I used to think that it was a rubes game – merely dumb. I’m coming to think that it’s immoral. “Immoral,” is a slippery term for someone who doesn’t believe in an externally enforced morality – but bear with me. I’m going somewhere here.

I’ve come to believe that the best way to understand money, from the perspective of a lowly working man, is as frozen time. If “time is money,” then money is also time. I trade my time for my salary. There is some function of my skills, other people’s desires, the overall economy, and my intrinsic interests that lead to certain rates of exchange for my time. I’ve simplified it down to a point where I don’t mind what I do for a living. I’ve got a pretty unique set of skills – and within that domain of “there are only a few people who can do what I do,” I set my price high – and I turn down work all the time. That tells me that I’m doing it right. If I get hungry, or if I want to impress redmed with some sparkly and rare rock – I find some time efficiencies like packing lunches and taking mass transit – and I do them over periods of time. Or else I lower my standards a little – trading time that might be spent on Judo or gardening for more of that “money” stuff.

Day trading is an example of an activity that has no inherent value to anyone. The only reason that day traders exist is to suck money out of the economy. technolope disagrees with me on this – seeing it as an analog to gambling. However, here’s the difference, the stock market – tax laws – and retirement system all encourage American citizens to put a lot of their money into Wall Street. Without the high speed profit seeking – that made sense. Now, we’re just being pushed up to the casino table whether we want to play or not.

Here’s the core: There is no way to make more time. You have a set amount – and you spend your life as you choose. Most of us spend most of it doing stuff for other people and a little doing stuff that we want to do. Some of us are lucky and have a relatively rare skill. I’m super lucky. I know that.

Day trading is stealing other people’s time, out of their retirement accounts.

This is why, writ large, I favor execution for the wall street fucks who took bonuses of hundreds of millions of dollars after they broke the economy. They stole people’s retirements – that’s time, not money – and bought themselves new yachts on their backs. They should be shot.

On the advice, nay, insistence of @capital_l, I went to the Penny Arcade Conference (aka PAX East) this weekend. My experience was mixed. I can see what the hype is about – but I don’t think that I’m a lifelong undying fan. I have new respect for the organizers – they seem like genuinely good people.

On Friday, I was a one man trainwreck. I had woken up at 4am in Newport News, VA in order to get on the 6:20am flight to Boston. I took a three hour meeting in the airport, took the T home, dropped my bag, took the T back to town, and stomped into the convention center filled with disdain for the freaks and the geeks. I proceeded to spend half an hour standing in line to get crappy seats for one of the main sessions – in which the organizers fielded questions from their fans. These were at least 50% of the form: “I love you. Ummm. That’s it. I love you.” The other 50% seemed to mostly be the really, really annoying sort of geek who is like “I have memorized the entire script from the first 5 Star Wars movies! I will now begin to recite it into the microphone!”

I pushed into the expo floor and was touched by too many people – so I left. I was in a wretched mood – and I doubt that anything could have made me happy at that point.

The Yo Yo Ma concert that evening was incredible – and ought to be the subject of a post in its own right. Suffice it to say that if he’s not the greatest living musician – he’s in the top three.

Yesterday, redmed and I went to the convention center – and it was immediately a better experience. I could see the positives. People seem genuinely nice to each other – in a way that geeks who have learned to get along with other types of geeks will understand. Sometimes we need to take time out. Some geeks like tabletop games, others do not. There were totally separate rooms for the card players, for the role players, for the console players. Room upon room of people just – well – just playing the games they like to play.

The turning point for me came in the plenary session with the organizers where we gathered to watch them create Monday’s comic. They’re witty, funny, technically amazing with Photoshop. The writer bantered with the audience for an hour while the artist drew. The high point was when someone in the audience came to the microphone to say that he had really been looking forward to playing some particular game – but that the last copy had been sold just that morning – and so he wondered if the person who bought it would be willing to play with him. A shout from the audience confirmed that – sure he’s got game. At which point the writer – from the stage – said “hey, I’ve wanted to play that – can I get in? How about 5pm in the card game room?” And so a game was formed, with the dude on stage jumping in to fill one of the seats.

That’s cool. If I ever have fans, I hope to be that cool.

There were down-sides, sure, but I found them easy to avoid. There are a lot of fiendishly annoying people – but there’s enough space to let them be themselves over in that other hallway. The organizers have scattered beanbag chairs throughout the expo center – and ad-hoc piles of people are everywhere.

It’s sort of like being back in the engineering dorms in college – except that we have enough money to go out for sushi afterwards. Not so bad.

I subscribe to my own personal theory of “sleep multipliers.” Let’s say that ordinary sleep – in your own bed – is the unit here. That’s “1.” I find the sleeping in a hammock, on a perfect spring or fall day, with dappled sunlight falling around me and a light breeze – that’s about the best sleep I can imagine. Let’s call that “2”.

Assuming that sort of scale (from 0 to 2 – where 0 is “worthless” and 2 is “the best ever”), here’s my thinking:

Hammock: 2
On the beach on a temperate afternoon: 1.9
The perfect afternoon nap (without hammock or beach): 1.5
Ordinary sleep: 1
Curled up in a pathetic ball under your desk, head resting on your backpack: 0.9
Too drunk: 0.6
Airplane, window seat: 0.6
Sitting up in a chair, private room: 0.5
Airplane, aisle seat: 0.5
Airplane, middle seat with flab rolls rolling onto both sides of you: 0.3
Sitting up in a chair in a public area, half-listening for approaching footsteps: 0.2

Having a cat or other small pet cuddle up with you is worth +0.25

Having someone you care about snuggle up with you is worth +0.5 … unless they breathe on your face or put your arm to sleep – in which case it’s a wash.

Today got off to a slow start – what with work onsite here in Virginia. However, we seem to be in pretty good shape on The Project From Hell – at least for the moment. I cannot currently see the train that will kill us all. I call that a win over previous weeks.

The day picked up with a trip to Hybrid for Jiu Jitsu. I do really enjoy working out with these guys. They’re tough, focused, have great technique, and don’t mind me working in.

Finally, in some strange nod to my ego (from the universe) – I got hit on at the bar while I was having dinner. By a girl, even (thanks for forcing me to clarify that – amnesiadust)!

Wonders never cease.

Based on the river of vitriol and/or gloating in my facebook friends feed this morning, I see that Team Obama (AKA the Democrats) managed to get some sort of legislation passed in the face of near universal opposition from Team We Hate Obama, No No No (AKA the Republicans).

I’m glad that this happened, for a couple of reasons.

The number one reason that I’m glad this passed is that it was a slap in the face to the Republican rhetoric of Obama as a failed president. Team “We Hate Obama,” (WHO) had managed to cast this vote as the defining moment of his presidency. A failure to get exactly what he wanted against a 100% unified opposition, less than 30% of the way through his first term would be (according to their narrative) sufficient to deem him an ineffectual and lame duck. I have no idea how Team Obama allowed themselves to get cornered in that one – but they did. They went all-in on a single issue, so they had to win. Team WHO also successfully sold the idea that a bill without Republican support would prove something or other about Obama’s moral character. “Ramming a bill down our throats,” was a bad thing … which meant that all they had to do was say “no,” in order to get some sort of “victory.”

Brilliant political strategy. Bad for the country, and a total disservice to the people who sent them there to serve – but brilliant nonetheless.

If we had a parliamentary system, this sort of crap might be sensible. After such a defeat, the opposition could call a vote of no confidence and seize control of the government. However in the American system – we have strict four year terms for our executive. This means that (and this is important) – team WHO was attacking the effectiveness of the president and the government itself for the next two and a half years.

If your instant urge at this point is to tell me about how the Democrats did the same thing to Bush – please shut up. If you feel any inclination to bring up the fact that Bill Clinton cheated on his wife, please go soak your head. You’re missing my point.

Me? I’m not a sports-fan sort of political thinker. I believe that all sides have the capacity to be wrong. Hell, I have even been known to question the moral superiority and divine mandate of the Red Socks from time to time. I don’t think that there exists a political victory worth throwing the national interest under the bus. Playing for a “victory,” of “no progress in any direction for two and a half years,” strikes me as a massive abdication of responsibility.

Then again, I’m sort of naive. Maybe this is just how the big kids play – all elbows and blocking the ref’s line of sight.

The other reason I’m glad it passed is that now we get to try *something*. As with climate change, petroleum dependence, the slaughter of top tier predators, drug resistant plagues, and so on … I think that the risks of inaction far outweigh the risks of any particular plan. This is triply true when we attempt said plans in the full light of day with vigorous and open debate. When all team WHO offers is “no no no! not that!” then we sort of have to go with whatever plan was actually laid on the table.

I only wish that we had a ‘majority’ and a vigilant and honest opposition party to push back and forth – agreeing that their goal is the good of the nation – and disagreeing on the details of how to achieve that good.

Note that neither of these reasons include me loving every detail of the legislation. At this point, I have very little feel for what’s in there. I heard a lot of ideas, both good and bad, get kicked around through this process. Last night I saw some headline go shooting past about a deal with abortion opponents. I’m pretty sure that last minute, tangentially related and hastily written deals on major hot button issues are going to come back to bite us later.

As mentioned previously – I also don’t like ‘big bang’ legislation that tries to solve a pile of different problems at once. In my mind, the expensive part of this bill (subsidizing some standard of care for folks who can’t afford the commercial system) could have been debated in isolation. Insurance regulation and the medical pricing model is amenable to isolated debate. Consumer protection might be a decent topic for discussion as well. Trying to do them all at once, with one party just shouting “commie!” from time to time was madness.

I understand that it’s flawed. I get it. I’m hip. I don’t claim to know exactly how it’s flawed. If you already knew – before it came out – exactly how you were going to feel about it, please spare me.

My article about our experiences in Haiti is up.

Posted yesterday to get the gas station recollections out of my head. Here’s what’s going on otherwise:

The basement flooded – to a small degree – last weekend. Now keep in mind that most of Boston also flooded. They had to vent untreated sewage into the bay (is there no backup plan?). We heard stories of basements where water was actually shooting over the bulkheads and accumulating in the middle of the floor.

My basement is actually pretty well constructed. The floor slopes toward a storm drain that actually stayed clear and functional. There are gutters to guide the water to that drain. However, about 25% of the floor is smoothed and leveled. That 25% got an inch or two deep before the water was deep enough to flow into the un-level section and thence to the drain. Go team ‘100 years ago’. Boo on team ‘we’ll fix this crappy job.’

@redmed’s parents are visiting for the weekend in honor of her birthday. This was a surprise – which meant that I did the entire parent-visiting-cleaning-frenzy myself, late yesterday afternoon. It was going well until I realized that one of the hard ciders in the basement had exploded. I had been eyeing this batch with suspicion after two consecutive bottles had the sort of contamination that leads to a geyser when you open them. My rule is “the third contaminated bottle invalidates the batch.” Given that they were exploding – it was time to empty them.

Long story less long: When the parents arrived, I stank of fermentibles and was surrounded by empty bottles. It was awesome.

I’m about to embark on another two weeks of travel for work.

Also: It’s spring.

I want to try to convey, in words, one of the most surreal places I’ve ever been: It’s the gas station closest to the Haitian border in the Dominican town of Jimanai. I think of this place often – since returning from Haiti. It is one of those places that is perfectly and completely what it is. It exists totally in its own reality – and just half a step away from mine.

We were there with the small but effective security group who brought us from Santo Domingo to the border. We had a couple of hours to kill because between the time change and the transportation issues – our Haitian vehicles weren’t there to pick us up yet.

It is, perhaps, 11am. We are at an equatorial gas station in the low mountains of a large island. The icy hot sun bears down from overhead.

Caribbean steel drum music floats over this whole scene. Loud, pumping, techno-steel drum. Loud enough to be a live band – but coming from speakers surrounding an empty concrete dance floor under a tin roof. It is not clear that anyone ever dances on that floor.

There is a small store where you can buy candy bars, beer, cokes, chips, olives, rum, and a few other random things. They take Dominican, US, and Haitian money interchangeably. If the calculator says that they owe you small change, they give you a couple small pieces of candy to settle up.

On the far side from the dance floor, there is a chicken restaurant – but it’s not open yet. Perhaps half a dozen men are there, already drunk – not talking much – but too loud when they do. Watching the time pass. I think that they do this every day.

There are other aid groups here. The Italian search and rescue team travelling in a school bus. The half-hippie christians with two pickup trucks and no clue. Some are serious and disciplined. Others ragged and off center. Most of them buy cokes and candy bars.

Chickens and the occasional cow wander through. We sit on chairs borrowed from the restaurant. We talk. We listen to the music. Shields are up – we are on serious business – we are going to Haiti after the earthquake.

It is a truly odd scene.

When we return, after ten days in post-earthquake Haiti – we declare the gas station to be the single safest place on earth, embrace our small but effective band of security providers, and buy beers for the road back to Santo Domingo.