TechnoWoes

Tech'no'woe, n.
1. a term invented by the author of Snow Crash to denote grievous distress, affliction, or trouble arising from difficulties with information technology devices.
2. a state of frustration and exasperation from trying to deal with too many @#%$! electronic gizmos and gadgets
3. a glitch, problem or failure of software or hardware that results in much wasted time, effort and emotional energy to solve or remedy.

I am not a Luddite.  I am not a technophobe.  I do not shun modern technology, as evidenced by my cell phone, Ipod Nano, two Ipod Touches, one Ipad, one laptop, two desktop computers, a wireless home network, two GPSr's, a flatscreen HD tv interfaced with a home theater sound system and dvr, wireless home alarm system, even a battery-operated corkscrew. And I'm pretty savvy at maintaining my tech arsenal and keeping its software and hardware up to date.

I enjoy using these devices -- they're useful, entertaining, informative, and they generally enrich my life. Indeed, it is hard to imagine doing without them.  My life would be much more difficult and tasks would be much more time-consuming.  No "Googling" a topic to get instant answers to almost any question, no mobile access to the thousands of tunes in my music collection, no online banking or computer-assisted financial record keeping and financial planning, no watching t.v. shows at my convenience and without commercials, no quick exchanges of messages with friends and family, no talking on a cell phone at the beach, an airport bathroom or a supermarket queue!  How primitive life was in the ancient past of  20-30 years ago, before we had these devices!  How did we do it?

Now the big HOWEVER.  As wonderful as all this technology is, my experiences with it are sometimes frustrating, exasperating, and a huge waste of time. This is partly due to the sheer number of devices, so that one or more of them always seems to have a problem at any given time. Another reason is that their underlying workings have become increasingly complex and opaque, making the causes and cures of glitches much more difficult to figure out.  I've nicknamed these technical failures "technowoes."  Here are a few recent examples:

The Forced Upgrade That Shortened My Life By Two Days

For many years I've relied on a certain well-known financial program to keep track of my money and to help me plan for retirement spending.  The great thing about this software is that with a touch of a button it will update the value of my portfolio, give me a current net worth value, and project my financial balances into the future given current spending levels.  As a retiree I find this is really helpful for budgeting and financial decision-making.

The software company upgrades the program every year or so but the newer versions generally don't have a huge advantage over the current one so I don't automatically purchase the upgrade.  However, after a few revisions the company withdraws support of the one feature I find essential -- the portfolio update -- and makes it available only in the newest edition.  Cha-ching! Forced upgrade.

I recently shelled out the money for the new version and installed it on one of my computers.  The installation seemed to go smoothly enough at first, with no cryptic error messages or system crashes. But then... technowoe.  As part of the upgrading process my old data file was converted to a new format.  When I ran the new program my balances were now wrong for several investments, obviously a major snafu.  Puzzled, I proceeded to spend many hours comparing the old and new data to see where the problem was, re-installed the new program several times, and in general pulled every trick I had in my Geek-wannabe repertoire.  I finally solved the problem in a way I'll talk about later.  But in the meantime this piece of technology that I relied heavily on was a major pain in the rear.

The "Free" Security Program That Actually Cost a Lot of Antacid

My old employer, Miami University, wisely furnished students and faculty with a fairly good anti-virus program that included regular updates provided at no cost through its site license.  As a retiree I was able to continue using the program and its update service.

Recently, however, university budget cuts led to the (unwise, imho) elimination of this service, with the somewhat lame recommendation that users switch instead to Microsoft Essentials -- a mediocre replacement that is free to anyone with a Windows PC.  Being the paranoid fellow that I am, I searched for a better (but still free) program by going to several authoritative sources that compare and evaluate software. I settled on one and installed it without major problems.

For a couple of weeks everything seemed to be fine, including the automatic updating feature (a crucial aspect for any anti-virus software).  Then the problems started.  One of my computers would suddenly freeze and it wasn't apparent why.  This of course required rebooting the system, a time-consuming procedure akin to watching paint dry or grass grow. A day or two would go by and then this would happen again, always without warning and without any obvious cause.  Since the last change to the computer was installing the anti-virus program I began to suspect it was the culprit, though why it would crash my system was a mystery.  I finally determined that the software was indeed the likely problem in a way I'll discuss later.  I selected another anti-virus program that so far has worked fine.  Difficulty solved, but with a lot of wasted time and frustration...and technowoe.

The Acceleration of Obsolescence

Back in the good old days (maybe 5-10 years ago) if you bought a new techno-toy you could expect several years of service before (1) it physically crapped out, (2) its lack of features compared to newer models made it either embarrassingly inferior or (3) the increased demands of new software outstripped the device's resources.

Not now.

Case in point is the blindingly fast obsolescence of my Apple products.  When the IPOD Touch first came out I was very intrigued with it but didn't buy one right away.  I'm not what the marketing gurus call a "First Adopter" -- I wait to see what the final verdict on new techno-toys will be and for the bugs to be worked out of the first round of devices. When the 2nd generation Touches came out I was ready, and bought one in March of '09.  This was my second Apple product and it won me over immediately, especially because of its usefulness during the considerable traveling that my wife and I do -- maps, email, destination info, itinerary details, etc.

Less than three years passed before its features and performance were so inferior to the newest version that in January of '12 I shelled out for a 4th generation model.  Among the must-have features were a front and rear-facing camera capable of stills and movies, and the ability to sync information with our other Apple product, an Ipad.  But my original 2nd generation Itouch is too decrepit and old to allow syncing -- in less than three years it went from wondrous techno-toy to techno-brick. The late Steve Jobs was truly a marketing genius.....

The Recursive Cure for Some TechnoWoes

I mentioned above that I was eventually able to solve my problems with the financial program update and the new anti-virus software.  I did this by using technology to overcome technological problems, namely by Googling or Binging my symptoms.  (The obsolescence of my Apple product was solved more crassly -- by spending money.)

Using a search engine to look for solutions to technowoes almost always leads to the revelation that no matter how unusual or odd you think your difficultly is there are others who have had the same or similar problems.  It also reveals something that has been true of the internet since it began -- there are many very smart people out there who are willing to share their knowledge and help you solve your problem. This sense of community and mutual support was at one time the hallmark of the "net," and it is very gratifying to find that there is a remnant of it in today's commercialized, socialized and politicized cyberspace.

The online repositories of technical wisdom used to be in various "USENET Groups" which were topical forums where people posted questions and others offered answers. Although the information you needed was probably there in the forum somewhere, in the early days there was no easy way to search previous discussions -- you simply had to look through the old postings or consult a FAQ that tried to summarize the most common questions and answers. These open forums still exist, of course, as do company-sponsored support forums.  But now searching for key words or for the entire wording of an error message is almost absurdly easy with search engines like Google and Bing.  The value and usefulness of this information is dramatically increased by its retrievability.  In fact, try to imagine the internet/WWW without search engines -- I doubt very much that its growth and infiltration of our lives would have been nearly as dramatic as it has been.

I should add that using technology to fix technological problems may still require a bit of Geekiness.  The information provided online often requires translation into ordinary language and sometimes involves arcane actions, like issuing "command line commands," or using REGEDIT. Of course, an alternative is to use a company's  customer support service. However, I phone tech support only as a last resort because it usually involves even more wasted time waiting for the call to go through, then struggling though a long frustrating session trying to understand the guy on the other end with a thick accent who claims his name is "Bob" or "Eric."

Technowoe is probably with us to stay.  It's part the price we pay for living in a wondrously technological era, and overall probably worth it.

But there are times when I yearn for the days of fewer gadgets and fewer problems.  Pass me my slide rule and typewriter, please.

Lava Love: Geezers Gone Wild!

The airport in Kailua Kona, Hawai'i is built on top of a lava flow barely 200 years old.  Landing here is sometimes a jarring experience for tourists expecting waterfalls and rainforest because the landscape is instead a stark lava desert that looks a lot like dark brownie batter.  Of course we have waterfalls and rainforests too, but they are elsewhere on the island.

I live on the side of Hualalai volcano, one of five volcanoes that make up the mass of the island of Hawai'i (note, Waikiki and Honolulu are on a different island, not here).  Three of these are "active" volcanoes, meaning they are either erupting now (Kilauea, about 90 miles from my house), or are bound to erupt again in the future (Mauna Loa and Hualalai).  One of the remaining two is likely extinct (Mauna Kea, which has many world-class telescopes on its summit) and the other is quite dead (Kohala).

In short, there is a lot of lava around.

Most people assume that volcanoes erupt at their summit, often explosively, and lava flows down the sides in waves that gradually build the cone higher and higher as the lava cools.  But like many of our assumptions about lava, this one is very oversimplified.  For instance, another major way that Hawaiian volcanoes grow is by swelling from the inside as magma forces its way into cracks and crevices on its way to the surface.  Kind of like a pimple as it gets ready to "erupt" except that lava pimples are permanent and don't go away afterwards.

Another way is even more interesting, at least to a lava lover like me.  If a volcano erupts for a long enough period of time, it develops lava tubes, or conduits, through which the lava can flow for miles before being deposited on the flanks of the volcano.  The lava first forms channels, like stream beds or river beds, except that the force at work is thermal erosion, not water erosion -- the new lava melts its way into the older surface.  As the lava ebbs and flows in these channels the cooling sides get higher and higher and eventually close over the top, making an insulated route for lava to travel great distances before breaking out and coating the landscape.  The tubes can form a complex system in which they take different routes for a ways, then come together and diverge again, and each main tube can have many smaller side tubes. Also, newer flows can create tubes that enter older ones at a higher level making multi-tiered systems that resemble complex highway intersections.

When an eruption stops completely the lava in the tubes drains away, leaving empty conduits that can be as big as subway tunnels.  The cooling lava contracts and sometimes crumbles, collapsing the tube at its weakest points.  But long portions often remain intact.  For instance, the southern part of our island hosts one of the longest intact tube systems in the world, with over 32 miles of interconnecting underground conduits.  Shorter sections of tubes can be found in nearly all parts of the island.

To a near-geezer like me who wants to prove he is still young enough to do stupid and slightly dangerous things, these old tubes are irresistible.  For the past several years my hiking buddy from Oregon (also a near-geezer) and I have been exploring old lava flows and investigating the tubes that we can find.  Many of the tubes and openings are undocumented and unmapped and they aren't described in any guidebook.  They are also very difficult to find because the openings become hidden by vegetation or are in remote areas.  We've learned that some of the most unpromising-looking landscape can hold geological treasures, and we've become pretty good at reading the subtle clues in the terrain that may lead us to a great tube adventure.  It is terrifically rewarding to come across an opening and think that we used our wits (well, what's left of them) to locate it.  Very ego-boosting for near-geezers.

And getting inside is nearly always an awe-inspiring experience.  We're walking in the island's arteries, where 2000 degree molten rock once flowed and seeing the products of an unfathomably powerful geologic process from the inside!  Wow!

As lava flows through channels and tubes it spatters, splashes, and splatters, producing a limitless variety of fascinating swirls, drips, and globs that freeze in place as the lava cools.  [See my photos at the end of this blog for examples.] Some of these structures are extremely complex and delicate.  For example, the air movement that accompanies the flowing lava can produce a long drip that is needle-sharp and cools horizontally.  Gusts of air can also whip a long drip and stick the tip upward to form a loop or even a knot.  Some other features are

• lavacicles -- vertical stalactites from the ceiling of tubes.  These aren't formed by dripping water, though, but by the remelting of the ceiling as newer lava flows in the tube or by overhead intrusion of lava from a new surface flow over the old tube.
• stalagmites -- pillars of lava on the floor of a tube formed from lava dripping from the ceiling.  The heat in this case may come from new lava flowing over the top of the tube.
• bathtub rings -- newer lava flowing through a tube often leaves a "high lava" mark when it drains away.  Sometimes these are so thick they form benches along the tube walls.

I want to be clear that we are very respectful of the formations we find and try to be careful not to damage them.  And we never intentionally break off any of the features.

As rewarding as this activity is, there are also costs.  Hiking across a lava flow is a bit like using one of those balance boards at the gym -- the surface is uneven, unstable, and very unfriendly to aging muscles.  Moving through a tube sometimes requires a "duck-walk" strategy that aging knees really don't like at all.  And lava is really, really, really sharp.  Barely brushing against it can produce prodigious amounts of blood from delicate old skin.  Did I mention that "lava love" might be considered a bit stupid?

Complex drip patterns on side of a channel.

Look at how sharp and delicate this drip is!

A unique double-tipped drip.

Drip with tip stuck upwards. Hiking stick handle for scale.

Lavacicles

Figure this one out!!

Complex knobby drips with spatter on them.

More delicate complexity. Hiking stick for scale.

Alien hieroglyphs on side of tube.

Lava stalagmites deep inside a tube.

Great example of lavacicles.

Sharp lavacicles on ceiling -- don't bump your head!

Taste Buds Are Wasted On The Young!

We were at Redd, a highly-touted restaurant in the Napa Valley north of San Francisco.  We hadn't planned to eat there -- usually it takes a reservation weeks in advance -- but the personnel at a nearby wine-tasting establishment suggested we try the restaurant's bar, which serves wonderful appetizers and doesn't require a reservation.  When we arrived we found to our surprise there was an unexpected open table in the main restaurant,  and we opted for that instead.

Good choice.

Early in the meal the waiter brought a special appetizer, complements of the chef. He described it as "yellowfin tuna tatar with asian pear, avocado, chili oil, fried rice, and cilantro."

Hmmm... "Tatar," of course means "ground up and raw." For most of my life the idea of eating raw tuna would have been acceptable only if I was stranded on a desert island and near death from starvation. Since moving to Hawai'i (which is most definitely not a desert island) and having access to excellent fresh seafood, I've found that certain types (not all) of raw or lightly cooked seafood have a texture and flavor that is amazingly tasty. But it isn't just the flavor of the fish that I've come to appreciate, it's also the subtle, complex and surprisingly unique flavors and textures that a talented chef can create in the total preparation of spices, sauces and other ingredients -- in this case the fried rice (actually more like puffed), the pear and avocado, and the chili oil and cilantro.  This appetizer had it all -- delicious!!

By the way, the rest of our meal at Redd was equally subtle, complex, and just as likely as raw fish to be something I would have shunned in earlier years:  chestnut soup with roasted apples and brown butter, a beet salad with gulf shrimp, pomegranate seeds, fennel, watercress and yucca chips, and a main dish of rare Sonoma duck breast with cranberry spaetzle, sunchoke, spinach, and duck consomme.  All terrific!

In my youth I had strong and rather simple taste preferences.  If it was salty, greasy, and over-cooked I liked it (well, except for liver & onions, but that's another blog).  My mother, who did most of the cooking in our family, was raised on a Midwestern farm and learned to prepare simple, straightforward, and very satisfying dishes like pot roast, pork chops, fried chicken, and baked ham.  Slightly more exotic were her tuna casserole, macaroni & cheese, meatloaf, spaghetti & meatballs, and Swiss steak.  The only fish dishes I can remember were pan fried trout and baked fish sticks, neither of which I liked.  Since we couldn't afford to eat at restaurants very often this was my culinary world for many years.

It wasn't really until my wife and I began traveling abroad, which we started doing shortly after we were married and have continued ever since, that I was exposed to different and more complex food.  These travels also introduced us to cultures where the preparation, presentation, and enjoyment of food was a highly developed norm, like Italy and France.  About the same time we joined a "gourmet" dinner group that met several times a year.  Each dinner menu was chosen by a committee and different dishes were assigned to different members for preparation.  The result was a combined meal that would have been very difficult for any single person to produce, and it offered us the chance to sample a number of dishes we would not have attempted for ourselves.  It also produced social pressure to at least taste foods I never would have tried on my own. As our experience grew my wife became an adventurous and accomplished cook and her enjoyment of preparing a wide range of dishes means that we eat very, very well at home these days.  I pay for her efforts by being the clean-up crew.

Another contributing factor to my willingness to seek out new dishes is that my wife and I never order the same thing in a restaurant.  We pick things from the menu that we will share, and usually we look for interesting items on the appetizer menu.  For instance, we might have two or three appetizers and one main course.  That way we get to try more things and compare our reactions.

So over the years my appreciation for well-prepared, creative, subtle and complex food has grown stronger and stronger. It was a slow process with many dead-ends, disappointments and sometimes unfinished dishes.  But frankly I'm glad it took so long because now I think I value good food even more and don't take it for granted.  An illustration of my evolution is that one of my favorite recent movies is the 2007 Disney animated film Ratatouille, in which a Paris rat (yes, RAT) dreams of becoming a world-class chef.  His family naturally doesn't understand his odd appreciation for food that isn't garbage.  One scene I particularly like occurs early in the movie, when the main character (Remy) tries to explain to one of his brothers the magic of food and flavor.  Different flavors can be wonderful when tasted separately, he points out, but when they are combined in just the right way they produce something greater and infinitely more enjoyable than any single ingredient.  His brother nods in feigned understanding and then returns to eating his garbage.

I need to make it clear that there are limits to my culinary explorations. First, I'm not eager to try anything just because it's different or exotic or I've never eaten it before.  My threshold for organ meats, for example, is very, very high.  And just because someone exclaims how good something is isn't enough -- some people will eat ANYthing.  Second, I'm too cheap to ever enjoy a $200+ meal -- my palate can't possibly be refined enough to consider that worthwhile.  In fact, some of the best food I've had has been at rather modest places.  For instance, another meal we enjoyed beside the one at Redd on our California trip was in a small family-run restaurant that served some of the best Mexican food I've ever tasted -- total cost $10.  Third, I choose not to eat certain kinds of food for philosophical reasons -- see my blog on The Reluctant Carnivore Diet.

According to the NIMH's Medline, when we are young have about 9,000 taste buds on our tongues that detect flavors.  Unfortunately this number decreases after age 40-50 for women and 50-60 for men, and those taste buds that remain atrophy.  Sensitivity to the four tastes -- salty, sweet, bitter and sour -- often decreases beginning around age 60.  The exact reason for this decline isn't known: "Studies about the cause of decreased sense of taste and smell with aging have conflicting results. Some studies have indicated that normal aging by itself produces very little change in taste and smell. Rather, changes may be related to diseases, smoking, and environmental exposures over a lifetime."  To the best of my knowledge, there isn't anything you can do to stave off this decline.

So the sad fact is that I now have the experience and appreciation for good food that has taken me most of my adult life to acquire, yet my tasting equipment may be wearing out!  This isn't certain -- the loss of taste buds may not get to the point of interfering with my enjoyment of eating, but the possibility isn't pleasant to consider.

When I was young I may have had 9,000 taste buds but I really didn't know enough to put them to good use. As I now begin to lose them, for me the conclusion is clear:  Taste buds are wasted on the young!

Bah, Humbug! (Sort Of)

I am decidedly ambivalent about the holiday season.

As a child I can remember being so excited that I was unable to sleep on Christmas Eve.  Everything was so special -- the decorations at our house and around the city, the presents under the tree, the Christmas music on the radio and in the shopping malls, the heartwarming holiday specials on television, the dozens of Christmas cards we sent and received.  Although my family wasn't devoutly religious, we usually attended midnight mass on Christmas Eve at our local Episcopalian church.  Christmas day was a hectic family affair that started with opening presents, followed by dinner in mid-afternoon with in-laws and relatives, more exchanging and opening of gifts, then socializing until 8 or 9 o'clock.  All in all this was a very intense and long day.

The next day was a big let down.  I can remember getting together with neighborhood friends to compare gifts and to play with each other's stuff.  But the big thrill was over and it seemed anticlimactic.  Amazing what a difference 24 hours can make -- from heartfelt joy, eager anticipation, and warm fuzzy emotions to a kind of emptiness, deflation and a feeling of  despondency.  And those presents I had wanted so badly almost never lived up to my expectations.

As an adult I have to fight a tendency to become a bit depressed during the holiday season.  It's not that I'm a Scrooge at heart -- I really would like to feel the holiday spirit and experience those warm fuzzies again.  But it is hard to do when retailers start their holiday push even before Halloween, Christmas carols are used to sell merchandise rather than express holiday sentiments, and buying gifts is evaluated in terms of contribution to GNP rather than as a gesture of caring.  It seems commercialized, shallow and insincere.

And of course it is hard to reconcile the messages of goodwill and peace with pervasive international conflict, and with the exploitation, denigration and ruthless subjugation of large segments of the global population. If we could act like it was Christmas Eve throughout the year these problems might disappear. But I fear we are more likely to act like it was the day after Christmas.

To end on a more positive note, and to illustrate my ambivalence, not just negativity toward the holidays, I'll offer this thought:  maybe capturing the spirit of the season shouldn't be easy.  Maybe the challenge of overcoming the obstacles, of seeing past the commercialism, conflict, and shallowness can lead to a more significant personal and social experience.  I think it's worth a try.

Breathing Again .... Again

Four years ago November 5th I wrote that I was Breathing Again after the divisive and derisive campaigning of McCain and Palin failed to win the White House for the GOP and Obama was elected by a substantial margin.  I also cautioned, however, that the euphoria over his election was likely unwarranted by political reality -- though at the time I didn't foresee the magnitude of the obstructionist tactics the GOP/Tea Party would employ to limit his effectiveness.  During this campaign I was holding my breath again because the strategy of Romney/Ryan was working and it seemed there was a very real prospect of not only a GOP president but also both House and Senate controlled by fiscal and social conservatives with no interest in compromise or consensus (recall John Boehner's adamant rejection of the word "compromise").  And so I'm breathing again....again.

But once again I'm not euphoric.  It is clear that nearly 1/2 the nation's voters saw Romney and Ryan in a positive light and therefore any solutions to the nation's economic and social problems have to consider their conservative viewpoints.  There was no mandate given here, other than through the polls that repeatedly show that most Americans want government to solve problems, not remain paralyzed by unbending adherence to a single philosophical agenda. And I can hardly be encouraged by the fact that this election may have simply maintained the status quo in congress of the last two years which showed a stunning inability to solve anything.

It is correct to say that our congressional leaders have become polarized and the distance that must be bridged in order to reach agreement is greater than it has been in a long time.  However, the GOP has moved farther to the right than the Democratic Party has to the left.  There was a time when I could have accepted a GOP dominated government because accommodation and negotiation (aka "civility") were still the norm.  But not now.

Maybe the positive impact of the election will be in causing the GOP/Tea Party to re-examine its position on the political spectrum and its relationship to a broader electorate.  Michael Gerson of the Washington Post recently offered an analysis of this possibility that I think is very insightful and I'll close with his words:

Some of the most important intellectual groundwork is needed on the role of government. Mitt Romney had a five-part plan to encourage job creation. He lacked a public philosophy that explained government’s valid role in meeting human needs. Suburban women heard little about improved public education. Single women, particularly single mothers, heard little about their struggles, apart from an off-putting Republican critique of food stamps. Blue-collar workers in, say, Ohio heard little about the unique challenges that face declining industrial communities. Latinos heard little from Republicans about promoting equal opportunity and economic mobility.

Neither a vague, pro-business orientation nor tea party ideology speaks to these Americans — except perhaps to alienate them. Conservatives will need to define a role for government that addresses human needs in effective, market-oriented ways. Americans fear public debt, and they resent intrusive bureaucracies, but they do not hate government.  [Emphasis added]

 We'll revisit this topic in another couple of years to assess if the situation has improved.  In the meantime I'll keep breathing, but I will also keep my fingers crossed.

Don't Go To Your 50th High School Reunion!

I recently attended my 50th high school reunion -- an "interesting" experience. 

This was my first reunion with my classmates over the years.  I've received notices for the interim gatherings but it never seemed worth the expense and time to attend any of them.  However, the 50th seemed significant somehow -- a milestone worth acknowledging.  It also seemed to fit in with my more reflective and nostalgic tendencies associated with retirement.

One thing I learned right away is that the internet has made reunions much easier to promote and to manage.  Websites like ClassReport.org, Classmates.com,  MyEvent.com allow organizers to display information about the event and to provide biographical and contact information about alumni.  (I'm sure that Facebook will soon find a way to supplant these independent venues and make it even easier to do this. For the potential downside, see my cautionary blog about Facebook.) Very slick.

I graduated from South High in Denver.  We were the South High Rebels, a designation clearly linked to the Confederacy and the Civil War. On the reunion website was our logo, the profile of a confederate soldier.  We were obviously less culturally sensitive in those days (imagine being one of the few Black students at our school during a rally to cheer on our Johnny Reb football team).  Just for kicks I went to the current website for South High and found that the "Rebels" term is still used, though the soldier has been replaced by a more neutral block letter "S."  The current website also extolls the school's diversity (not a defining characteristic while I was there) and its goal of developing in students "...a sense of civic responsibility to contribute to their global community."  Sounds great.  I just hope they don't still wave little confederate flags at the rallies like we did.

Since I really didn't keep in touch with very many of my classmates after graduating, I was curious to read the biographical information posted on the website.  I learned three things from this.  First, I couldn't remember most of the people in my class (this might be due in part to the sheer numbers involved -- there were 700 in my graduating class).  Second, of the ones I could remember a disturbingly large proportion of them were dead.  Third, the people I recalled most fondly were often those with whom I had also attended junior high, where we were "tracked" -- the same group of kids went from class to class for three years and we got to know each other very well.

At the event itself we were given id tags with our yearbook photo and name.  This was very helpful, because most people didn't look much like they did in high school.  Even when I could place either the face or the name, I was often at a loss to remember the context in which I knew the person.  It was an exhausting cognitive effort to bridge a gap of 50+ years when there was no connective thread between then and now, nothing in the middle.  By the end of it I came to the painful realization that as emotionally charged as those days may have been at the time, they have little relevance for my life today.  Revisiting memories of those times was actually a little depressing, because it didn't reveal any significant truths about who I am today (as I thought it might) and instead presented a puzzling and disjointed picture of someone I hardly recognized.

I realize that for many people high school memories are very positive and that reunions are a joyful and heartwarming way of maintaining meaningful relationships.  My high school experience was not so great.  It was a period in my life of great uncertainty, social isolation, and near-calamitous life choices. Somehow I pulled out of it in time, and I now think high school was something I survived, not something I enjoyed.  The reunion did what I guess it should have -- it reminded me that now is the most important time of my life, not the past.

Hiding From Facebook

I'm a pretty tech-savy guy.  I have a blog and my own homepage.  I have three email accounts. I own three computers, two Ipods and an Ipad. I manage our home wireless network.  I back everything up in the cloud. I'm a webmaster for an educational resource called PsyberSite. I've even taught courses about how the internet has influenced our society, for example "The Social Psychology of Cyberspace."

You might think I would be in the thick of the social network phenomenon --Tweeting and Google +'ing and Facebooking like crazy.  But you would be wrong.

There is no doubt that these recent developments in internet technology are having a tremendous impact on social relationships and the structure of our social world.  As a social psychologist I regard the social networking phenomenon as something that is very significant and fascinating to study.  And to my friends  who are Facebook fans (some of whom are reading this right now), let me assure you that I appreciate the many positive benefits this technology can have -- staying in contact with friends, sharing important life experiences with them, finding and reconnecting with old friends, and in general adding to the social richness of life. 

However, my personal reaction has been quite different.  You see, despite (or maybe because of ) my close involvement with internet technology over the years I have a skeptical, aversive, even paranoid stance regarding these latest social developments.  My wife and I do have a Facebook page, but we hardly ever post anything on it.  We have a whopping total of 36 Friends, a pretty puny number compared to some people who have hundreds.  And I admit it is fun to read the posts of others and to learn of the events in their lives and the lives of their family and friends.  But we both balk when it comes to sharing the same sort of information on our own Facebook page.  I should point out here that my reluctance is greater than my wife's, and she has sometimes expressed regret at feeling left out of this phenomenon.  (Perhaps we will soon go our separate ways and get individual accounts.)

I think there are a couple of reasons why I'm hiding from Facebook, both of them stemming from personality flaws that are long-standing and deeply rooted.

First, I'm generally a very private person and even in face-to-face situations I'm not comfortable disclosing personal information, even to very close friends.  Of course, professorial pontificating is an entirely different matter, and I have never been reluctant to do that, though my students often viewed me as "aloof" and "impersonal."  I think I'm friendly and approachable but I'm hesitant to be very open except with a few people I've know for a long time.

It is possible on Facebook to divide "friends" into differing categories like "Close Friends, " "Acquaintances,"  "Family," and even to create your own divisions.  You can also create groups of "friends" within each of these categories depending on interests or activities and then share different information with people in each one.  I don't know how many Facebook users take advantage of these features, but I find the categorization process very daunting and fraught with the danger of forgetting who is in which group and posting something that inadvertently offends someone or is at least regarded by them as inappropriate.

Another related issue for me is that as part of my private personality it is difficult to feel comfortable with the high frequency that seems to be the norm in posting Facebook information. Even with very close friends I much prefer fewer but more intense and personal interactions.

My second reason for hiding from Facebook may be that I have this "thing" about institutions or organizations that quickly become big and powerful, no matter how benign they may seem.  (See my slogan for Snow Crash.) My negative reaction is a complex bundle of paranoia, issues with authority, and wanting to assert independence by being non-conformist -- in short, not entirely rational.  Facebook is indeed big, reaching 750 million users in just eight years. And it has certainly become powerful as well.  As Steven Johnson noted in a recent Wired Magazine analysis, "Facebook is on the cusp of becoming a medium unto itself—more akin to television as a whole than a single network, and more like the entire web than just one online destination.....The difference, of course, is that no one owns the web—or in some strange way we all own it. But with Facebook we are ultimately just tenant farmers on the land; we make it more productive with our labor, but the ground belongs to someone else."

Mark Zuckerberg, founder of Facebook, wants us to be able to share everything, "...to make the world more open and connected."  He has created an interface that makes sharing extraordinarily easy to do -- but also that makes it easy for our social connections to be tracked and exploited.  Here's a small excerpt from the list of data Facebook receives and stores about users, taken from its Data Use Policy:

• We receive data about you whenever you interact with Facebook, such as when you look at another person's timeline, send or receive a message, search for a friend or a Page, click on, view or otherwise interact with things, use a Facebook mobile app, or purchase Facebook Credits or make other purchases through Facebook. 
• When you post things like photos or videos on Facebook, we may receive additional related data (or metadata), such as the time, date, and place you took the photo or video. 
• We receive data from the computer, mobile phone or other device you use to access Facebook, including when multiple users log in from the same device. This may include your IP address and other information about things like your internet service, location, the type (including identifiers) of browser you use, or the pages you visit. For example, we may get your GPS or other location information so we can tell you if any of your friends are nearby. 
• We receive data whenever you visit a game, application, or website that uses Facebook Platform or visit a site with a Facebook feature (such as a social plugin), sometimes through cookies. This may include the date and time you visit the site; the web address, or URL, you're on; technical information about the IP address, browser and the operating system you use; and, if you are logged in to Facebook, your User ID. 
• Sometimes we get data from our advertising partners, customers and other third parties that helps us (or them) deliver ads, understand online activity, and generally make Facebook better. For example, an advertiser may tell us information about you (like how you responded to an ad on Facebook or on another site) in order to measure the effectiveness of - and improve the quality of - ads.

I get very nervous when I read that list, despite assurances that my information is shared only "after we have removed your name or any other personally identifying information from it."  It seems to me that the detail contained in the information makes it very personal indeed, whether my name is associated with it or not.  I note also that the use to which my information may be put is rather open-ended.  I really don't know the specific ways Facebook uses tracking information and so I just have to trust that it will be benign.

My issues with authority and control lead me to get nervous about another aspect of Facebook -- its tendency to try to keep me within its warm and fuzzy embrace.  For example, a recent unannounced move was for Facebook to change people's email addresses that they had listed in their public profiles to addresses that use a Facebook email account.  If a friend sends a message to me at earthlink.com, for instance, it gets delivered to my Facebook email account instead.  Another development is Facebook's "Open Graph" initiative to encourage users to install apps that function within the Facebook interface even though they utilize content from the broader internet.  For example, if a friend has posted a link to a Washington Post news article, clicking on that link doesn't take you to the Washington Post web site, but rather serves the article to you through a internal app that you must install within Facebook. Of course, keeping a user within the Facebook interface allows even more thorough tracking of online behavior.  Wired's Steven Johnson raised a broader and more philosophical objection in his article that resonates well with my personality quirks:

This reluctance to link to the outside is, to say the least, hard to reconcile with Zuckerberg’s paean to open connection. Hyperlinks are the connective tissue of the online world; breaking them apart with solicitations to download apps may make it easier to share data passively with your friends, but the costs—severing the link itself and steering people away from unlit corners of the web—clearly outweigh the gains. Surely we can figure out a way to share seamlessly without killing off the seamless surfing that has done so much for us over the past two decades.

In the meantime, I'll just keep hiding......
 

Disney Dreams

Walt Disney opened his California theme park in 1955 with these words: "To all who come to this happy place, welcome."

"This happy place" quickly morphed into the slogan of the park that persists to this day -- "The Happiest Place on Earth."  The recognizability of the phase as referring to Disneyland and now to other Disney parks certainly attests to its success as a marketing logo, but also to the fact that several generations of visitors have agreed with the sentiment it expresses.

Although Walt clearly wanted to make people happy, there was quite a bit more to it than that.  At the 1955 opening ceremony he went on to say,

 "Disneyland is your land. Here age relives fond memories of the past...and here youth may savor the challenge and promise of the future. Disneyland is dedicated to the ideals, the dreams and the hard facts that have created America...with the hope that it will be a source of joy and inspiration to all the world."

His own dream was embodied in his plans for Disney World in Florida,  a project that went way beyond anything he had accomplished at Disneyland.  As I mentioned in my last blog, Disney World was opened in 1971 but sadly Disney died of lung cancer before it was completed. The official motto of WDW became "Where Dreams Come True," perhaps a reference not only to the dreams of visitors but also to Walt's own. At the grand opening Walt's brother Roy alluded to this:

"Walt Disney World is a tribute to the philosophy and life of Walter Elias Disney ... and to the talents, the dedication, and the loyalty of the entire Disney organization that made Walt Disney's dream come true. May Walt Disney World bring joy and inspiration and new knowledge to all who come to this happy place ... a Magic Kingdom where the young at heart of all ages can laugh and play and learn ... together."

And Julie Andrews, host of the televised ceremonies, made the connection very clear, referring to the park as "...a joyful land built by an inspired dreamer for other dreamers and dreams still to come."

It is hard to find fault with these sentiments.  They seem particularly uplifting in this time of economic, political, and social malaise.  After the deaths of Walt and Roy, it fell to the corporate structure they created to carry on the ideals they had espoused in these dedication speeches. For the most part I think the Disney brothers would approve of the changes in the parks and the numerous other new projects and developments that have taken place in their name over the years.

The many times I have visited the parks (almost always WDW) I have enjoyed myself thoroughly.  However, my last stay at WDW produced some nagging qualms that I have been struggling to deal with.  In my last blog I explored one of them, the presence of thousands of school-age children before the end of the school year who did not seem to be there to "...savor the challenge and promise of the future" nor to appreciate "new knowledge."  But they were certainly managing to "...laugh and play"  (well, when they weren't on their cell phones).

Another qualm has to do with the message that seems to underlie the current use of the slogans mentioned above.  It was about five years since I was at WDW, and I'm not sure whether it is me who has changed or whether it is the way the taglines are being used, but during my most recent visit I began to detect a shallowness to the constant emphasis on dreams, wishes, memories and magic -- a shallowness that certainly doesn't do justice to Walt and Roy.  The message, delivered in performances and attractions that were invariably entertaining and thoroughly effective at evoking warm and fuzzy visceral emotional responses, seemed to be that your dreams will always come true if you just wish with all your heart.  Just wish it and it will happen, no matter what you want.

This idea appeared in many venues and was especially evident in the spectacularly well-produced nightly fireworks show called, appropriately enough, Wishes. The show begins with some great fireworks and a few words from the Blue Fairy, who proclaims that when a star is born it has the power to grant a wish.  A song follows ending with the well-known refrain "When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are, anything your heart desires will come...to...you."  Jiminy Cricket then directly addresses those who might be skeptical:  "I'll bet a lot of you folks don’t believe that, about a wish coming true, do ya? We'll I didn’t either. Course, I’m just a cricket, but lemme tell you what made me change my mind. You see, the most fantastic, magical things can happen, and it all starts with a wish!"  The evidence is then presented in the form of the wishes-come-true of Tinkerbell, Cinderella, Snow White, Ariel, Peter Pan, Pinocchio, and Aladdin.  Jiminy concludes "You see, its just like I told ya. Wishes can come true, if you believe in them with all your heart."

Well, ok.  But I wonder if a more beneficial lesson might not be drawn from Disney's own life.  His dreams didn't come true just because he wished them to but rather because he worked hard, took great risks, and sacrificed much to overcome many difficulties and obstacles.  He was frequently on the brink of financial disaster;  his creative ideas and plans were often met with skepticism and derision;  a number of his projects were failures, or were abandoned before they were started.  Despite these challenges he persevered when many of us would have given up.  Wishing and dreaming were necessary to his success, but hardly sufficient. 

In my view that's the true legacy of Disney.

A Disney Education

My wife and I just spent a week at Walt Disney World Resort in Florida. No, we didn't take kids or grand kids with us -- we don't have any, and besides in our view they would spoil our fun.

We have visited WDW many times since it was opened in 1971, usually every five years or so.  Any more often is an overdose, similar to going to Las Vegas too often.  Both places offer escapist fantasy of the highest order, best enjoyed after a break to re-center and re-ground your sensibilities.

It is important to distinguish between Walt Disney World (WDW) in Florida and Disneyland in California.  Disneyland was Walt's first theme park, a ground-breaking concept that opened in 1955 and almost immediately outgrew its available space.  WDW in contrast consists of a vast tract of 47 square miles in central Florida, with four widely spaced theme parks (Magic Kingdom, Hollywood Studios, EPCOT, and Animal Kingdom),  two water parks, 23 on-site themed resort hotels (excluding eight more that are on-site, but not owned by the Walt Disney Company),  a campground, two spas and physical fitness centers, five golf courses, and other recreational and entertainment venues in an area known as Downtown Disney.  If you stay on site, as we choose to do, you are immersed in the whole Disney experience 24/7.  Mickey and friends are everywhere, including on the soap in your bathroom;  everything is neat and tidy; everyone is polite, friendly, and happy.  As I said, escapist fantasy of the highest order.  Sadly, Walt Disney died at 65 from lung cancer, five years before his dream opened in 1971.  His older brother Roy delayed retirement to oversee the initial development of WDW and then died a few months after the opening. 

Our visit was at the end of April, a time we thought would be less crowded because it was after most school spring breaks and before summer vacations.  We reasoned that most parents are concerned with their children's education and wouldn't take them out of school just to visit a theme park. This is also a time when central Florida weather is still moderate.  Our other visits have been in the fall, around Christmas, and during the summer, and so we were looking forward to our first springtime visit.

We were right about the weather --  most days were clear and the temperature was pleasant.  And the crowds weren't as bad as they can be in the peak summer months.

But we were dead wrong about the numbers of school-age kids.  Besides quite a few families with one or more children there were many, many groups of junior high and high school kids from all parts of the country, apparently on field trips or senior outings.  And there were thousands of teenage girls who were participating in the annual World Championship Cheerleading competitions being held at EPCOT.  When the cheerleaders weren't competing they were roaming the parks in packs of 10 to 20 giggling and jiggling "nubile nymphettes," as I called them. Needless to say, this altered the "Magical" atmosphere considerably.

The presence of so many kids whose schools were still weeks away from summer break raised questions in our minds about the commitment of the kids as students, the educational priorities of their parents, and the values of the sponsoring organizations (maybe including Disney Corp.).  I'm sure there are all kinds of practical justifications for these children to miss school in order to visit WDW;  parents cannot always control the timing of their vacations from work;  it's easier for organizations to schedule venues at WDW during this time of year;  travel arrangements are cheaper and more plentiful now than in the summer.  It is also true that not all "education" takes place in a classroom and indeed there are a number educational aspects to be found in WDW. 

These justifications seem reasonable but I think they may be problematic in several ways.  First, though visiting WDW can be educational in some ways, that is true no matter when it occurs.  On the other hand certain important educational experiences are closely tied to a classroom --  for example, I've never seen anything in WDW that would substitute for a skillful explanation of algebraic expansion or the laboratory experience of working through an analytical chemistry problem.  Second, the absence of large numbers of students poses significant logistical problems for teachers and schools, both in altering the classroom structure that is supportive of learning and in placing additional demands on teachers to help students make up work they have missed. Third, when parents and organizations endorse school absence they convey to young people that education is less important than entertainment and enjoyment.  I'm afraid this is a general trend in our society today, and I don't believe it serves us well in the global community.  As my wife and I have traveled around the world we have seen many developing countries investing heavily in education and  infrastructure. The support for educational institutions and teachers is striking.  Just the opposite seems to be the case in the U.S., as illustrated by recent budget cuts to schools and universities and salary freezes and reductions for teachers.

Maybe I'm making too much of this.  Or maybe I just received my very own Disney Education.

 _______________________________________________

An additional resource on Disney can be found at http://www.units.muohio.edu/psybersite/disney.  This web site was created by a group of my students as a class project some years ago.

Here are a couple of quotes about Disney you may find interesting:

When Dwight D. Eisenhower was President, called Disney a "genius as a creator of folklore" and said his "sympathetic attitude toward life has helped our children develop a clean and cheerful view of humanity, with all its frailties and possibilities for good."

Prof. William Lyon Phelps of Yale said of Mr. Disney: "He has accomplished something that has defied all the efforts and experiments of the laboratories in zoology and biology. He has given animals souls."

Fingerprints On My Ceiling

My wife and I are the third owners of our house here in Hawai'i, which we love very much.

Like many Hawaiian houses, ours has what is called an open-beam ceiling.  When you look at the ceiling you are actually seeing the underside of the roof  -- there is no insulation and no attic, not even a layer of dry wall sheeting.  The beams are larger than normal roof joists and not only support the roof, they are a distinct visual element of the house, painted white against the natural wood of the tongue-and-groove roof/ceiling planking.

Mainland readers may be having trouble with the concept of a ceiling without insulation, but it is quite common here because the weather doesn't require it.  For the same reason many houses in Hawai'i, ours included, have no central air-conditioning and no heating.

When our house was built about twenty years ago one or more of the carpenters wasn't wearing gloves when the roof planks were installed.  I know this because if you look closely you can see fingerprints on the ceiling, most likely the result of the oils in the carpenter's skin darkening over the years.

Some might consider this feature a flaw, but I think it is kind of fascinating.  For one thing, it is a clear reminder of an individual human contribution to creating my house, and certainly a reminder that is a uniquely personal one.  Each time I look at those fingerprints, I visualize somebody up on the roof struggling to fit each plank into position, maybe thinking "just five more and we can quit for the day and go have a beer...."  Real people built this house, and they worked long and hard to do it.  Twenty years later the signs of that hard work are still evident, and the fingerprints represent an obvious connection between the workers' sweat and our current happiness.

I doubt the carpenter who left his fingerprints ever thought that one day people would be pondering who he was and appreciating his efforts on such a personal level. He knew he was creating something that would last into the future of course, but his impact on people would be through the structure he was building, not through the loops and sworls on his fingertips.

Come to think of it, we all leave traces as we go through our daily lives, though seldom as uniquely identifiable as fingerprints on a ceiling, and like the carpenter we're often unaware of the influence we have on the experiences of other people. Our traces aren't necessarily physical residues.  Our interactions with people alter their experience and change the direction of their lives, even if the impact might be small and subtle.  A smile, a word of encouragement, a derisive gesture or condescending comment may alter a person's mood and behavior and in turn determine how they interact with others, the effects continuing to ripple outward.  It seems likely that when you meet a stranger there is a high probability that they represent some small amount of your own previous traces.  This suggests that the quality of your interaction with the stranger is determined in part by your past behavior with other people.  Buddhists might regard this as one aspect of Karma, the causal theory that our intentional actions have consequences that may return to us through long and complex causal chains.

The plausibility of this interconnectedness can be illustrated by the work of the famous psychologist Stanley Milgram on what he called the Small World Phenomenon (other have referred to it as the "six degrees of separation principle').  Through a series of clever experiments Milgram demonstrated that any two people can be connected to each other through only 5 or 6 intermediaries.  For example, in one study Milgram asked people to move a letter to a random stranger located in a geographical distant location. Since no one knew the stranger, they were to pass on the letter to a friend who might know the other individual, or who would pass it on to another person who might.  On average it took just 5-6 moves to reach the target.  Friendship in this case is the trace that ripples outward.

It is possible that the carpenter who left his fingerprints on my ceiling is long gone, maybe even dead.  Yet the trace he left still exists, and it will continue to have an impact for a long time to come. Assuming of course that someone has read this blog........

I'm Speechless....

As 2011 winds down and limps to an end, so has my blogging.

It's not that there aren't plenty of things that have caught my attention and might deserve my cunningly incisive analysis, for example:

• The bizarre and frightening GOP/TP candidate-of-the-week-club.  Surely there are more competent and compassionate possibilities than these.....
• The upside-down logic of the GOP/TP that the solution to our economic woes is to cut taxes on the wealthy and raise them on ordinary workers. I'm referring of course to the recent attempt of the GOP/TP to block an extension of the payroll tax cut while simultaneously fighting to retain cuts for the wealthy. (Actually, I commented on this somewhat prophetically in my blog last September, Punishing the Victims, Part Deux. )
• The puzzling assessment in the media and by Democratic Leaders that a measly 2-month extension of the payroll tax cut finally passed by Congress is somehow a brilliant victory.
• The stunning failure of the so-called Super Committee to produce a workable deficit reduction plan, illustrating yet again the dysfunction of our congressional leaders.
• A recent study by University of Michigan showing that the average net worth of members of congress more than doubled from 1984 to 2009, while the net worth of the average American family declined slightly, and other research that shows the growth of income inequality has tracked very closely with measures of political polarization (see also my earlier blog about our misperceptions concerning wealth inequality in America).

 And on the international front, we have sad reminders that no matter how lousy our own political and economic situation, it is a million times better than what many people around the world have to contend with:

• Peaceful protests in Syria continue to be brutally punished by a ruthless government.  A wrenching interview by Barbara Walters with "President" Assad revealed a man that was pathetically and dangerously out of touch with reality.
• The pride and promise we saw in Egypt has evaporated in a new and more violent round of demonstrations by those who seem to want nothing more than to fulfill the democratic promises they thought they had won.
• A laughably strange and crazy yet thoroughly despotic leader in North Korea dies (yeah!) but is replaced by his mini-me son who promises to be just as bad for his people and for the world (sigh).

All of these events are important developments.  But somehow I can't find the words to convey my emotional and intellectual reactions to them in any satisfying way.  The best I can do is to offer my sincerest hope that the coming year will show at least a glimmer of sanity and moderation in the world generally and in America in particular.

Happy New Year!

What It's Like To Be Robbed

The burglars broke into our house through a back window, a classically vulnerable location where it was dark, not visible by neighbors or people passing by, and adjacent to an area of vacant land where they could make their escape.

I had left the sliding windows in one of the bedrooms open slightly for ventilation and placed rods in the tracks so the windows couldn't be opened further, or so I thought.  The thieves tried one window, gave up, and then must have reached in and used a stick or something to dislodge the rod in the other window.  We know the point of entry because of the damaged screens and the muddy footprints that originated there and then tracked through the rest of the house on our brand new carpet.

This happened while we were 6500 miles away in Bhutan, a very peaceful country where the influence of Buddhism makes this kind of crime rare.  Actually it is also rare in our small Hawaiian community relative to other parts of the U.S., but it still does happen and seems to be on an uptick with the economic downturn. We learned of the break-in while we were on our trip in emails from our neighbors and from our handyman who checks our house each week while we are gone.  We have asked them NOT to contact us about major problems while we travel unless there is something we can actually do about the situation -- our philosophy is why ruin a trip when it won't accomplish anything?

In this case, though, we were able to give them instructions that turned out to be crucial.  For example, we asked them to look for our spare car keys and discovered that the thieves had taken them, possibly planning to return to steal one or both cars.  Our neighbors were able to secure the garage by parking one of their own cars in front of the door to prevent this until we returned and had the ignition locks changed.

Our attitude toward home security has always been pretty casual because we don't have a lot of expensive art, jewelery, or electronics.  Investing in an alarm system or a safe seemed hardly worth it, given the value of our potential losses.

Now we realize that our loss was far greater than we imagined -- not in monetary terms, but in the psychological impact the break-in has had on us.  The emotions we have felt have been a complex mixture of fear, anger, violation, vulnerability, contamination, loss of control, and sadness.  The sadness and anger arise from our realization that many of the items taken were more valuable to us than we thought because of their intimate sentimental meaningfulness.  For example, most of my wife's stolen jewelry was collected during our travels over the past 40+ years and although it wasn't terribly expensive, each piece was associated with a particular memory and cannot be replaced.  Our anger in this case arises partly from a sense of unfairness: the thieves got very little while we lost a great deal.

The feelings of violation and contamination were particularly strong at first, when the muddy footprints and jumbled contents of closets on the floor were vivid signs that an intruder had walked through every room and had pawed through every drawer.  Judging from the large size of the footprints, one of the burglars was male. But there were also indications that one was female -- ten pairs of my wife's shoes were gone, carefully selected from many other pairs, and some of her favorite purses and scarves.  [Male readers should consult a woman to gain an appreciation for the depth of response my wife had to this.] 

Vulnerability and loss of control are very uncomfortable feelings, and throughout our lives we go to great mental and behavioral lengths to avoid them, even when the control and security we think we have achieved is illusory. In my case this has meant spending a great deal of effort in closing the barn door after the horse has left. I modified the windows throughout the house to prevent future thieves from duplicating the successful break-in.  I installed motion activated lights to eliminate the dark areas where burglars could work undetected.  And at least for a while we have been more careful to lock doors and windows even when we leave for a short while.  We've also tried to convince ourselves that this was just a crime of opportunity and that we really don't present a juicy target to desperadoes.  Illusion or not, doing these things feels very positive.

There is some good that has come out of this.  I realize what wonderful neighbors and friends we have and how much they are willing to do on our behalf.  They provide a very comforting balance to the despicable behavior of the burglars.

I also have learned a worthwhile lesson about attachment to possessions --namely that although I can pride myself on not being beguiled by their monetary value, I have unwittingly invested a great deal of emotional capital in them. But the wonderful experiences that generated their sentimental value cannot be stolen and thieves can never truly cash in on their loot. The experiences, not the objects, make us rich.  If  I can just convince myself of the truth of this pearl of wisdom, I might even be able to feel a degree of compassion for the burglars -- the experiences they have violating other people can never bring them any real benefit.

Whack-A-Mole Maintenance

 My neighbor and I stood looking at the side of my house, beers in hand, admiring my latest home maintenance project.  "Looks great," he said taking a swig. But I could tell there was a lack of earnestness in his voice that meant he really wasn't sure what I had done.  Being a fellow home owner, though, he wanted to show support.

That's the way a lot of home maintenance is -- it makes problems disappear but you can only appreciate the effort if you had noticed the problem in the first place.  And preventative maintenance that heads off bigger repairs later on is even less noticeable.  It looks the same only more so.

The joys of home ownership include maintaining and fixing things constantly.  You can put this off, but you'll pay the price later in terms of expensive repairs, lots of remedial work, or a lower resale value.  So most of us either learn to use tools or we line up a stable of professionals to do the work for us.  The trouble with the second approach is that (a) pro's can be expensive and (b) they usually don't like small jobs and (c) good ones can be hard to find.

Home maintenance is a game of whack-a-mole, only in this version you pay a lot more to play and the game never ends.  Whack one problem -- say a rotted stair railing -- and another pops up, like the stair tread your foot went through while you were fixing the railing.

Then there's the "one-thing-leads-to another" phenomenon where fixing one small thing becomes a marathon of additional projects that become necessary before the small thing can be fixed -- that small repair becomes a super-sized pain in the ass.  We recently decided to have our living room carpet replaced.  Other than moving some furniture and writing a big check, this required very little on our part.  But of course we realized that before the new carpet went in, we really should re-paint the room.  And before we repaint, we really should put in a new outlet box for the tv and stereo connections.  And before we do that, we really should run a new cable through the wall for connecting the tv to the dvr.  And before we do that, we really need to install another cable splitter in the crawl space.  Etc., etc., etc.

Whack, whack, whack. whack.

A particularly irritating, vexing, and usually expensive aspect of maintenance is the "what the heck is that?" phenomenon when one repair reveals previously unknown problems of even bigger magnitude than the original.  We were once going to put it new flooring in a bathroom, a fairly simple and inexpensive project.  Removing the old flooring exposed serious rot in the wood underneath, requiring ripping out major chunks of the whole underneath structure and rebuilding it.  Hmmm.

It follows that any repair or maintenance project is bound to take way, way longer than you think.  Changing a light bulb?  Plan on several hours.  Doing some rewiring or plumbing work?  Count on days or weeks.  When I call my handy man to schedule help with a project I give an estimate of how long it will take, like "should be quick, just a couple of hours" -- the response is barely suppressed laughter.

It is easy to become despondent, frustrated and overwhelmed by Whack-a-Mole-Maintenance.  However, whenever I begin to feel this way, I remind myself that these days I should be thankful to still have a house to maintain.

Benefits of Dangerous Travel, Revisited

In a previous blog I described a recent trip to three countries in the Middle East, including Syria.  I titled the blog "Dangerous Travel" to highlight the demonstrations that were occurring in Syria at the time and the brutal crackdowns by the government.  Despite the depictions of these events in the media as widespread chaos throughout the country, my wife and I felt quite safe and were very glad we continued the trip.  At that time (April and early May of this year) the violence was in very specific areas at very specific times, posing little threat to tourists.  And most important, the target of these demonstrations was the current regime, not the governments of other countries.

Since then the internal situation in Syria has gotten steadily worse.  Larger and larger demonstrations have occurred, and they have taken place in some cities that were previously thought to be strongholds of support for the Assad regime, like Aleppo. Since we stayed in Aleppo for a few days, this caught our attention.  When we were there things were very calm, and as usual the people welcomed us warmly as they had elsewhere in Syria.  We were struck by the modern sophistication of the city and the charm of its old town area, a noteworthy feature of which was a huge Orthodox Christian cathedral next to an equally huge mosque, and a neighborhood where Burkas and knee-length dresses were evenly mixed on the streets.  The city had prospered over the years from the Assad regime's strong-arm enforcement of stability and had been rewarded for its support of the government's policies.  For demonstrations to occur here was a striking sign of the erosion of Assad's power. 

A second place we visited that is currently in the news is the smaller city of Hama, a picturesque place known for its ancient waterwheels throughout town that are used to draw water from the town river.  We enjoyed it very much, and again we are startled by the contrast between the quiet, seemingly calm place we saw and the images of it as the center of demonstrations by 100,000 anti-government protestors and violent reprisals by Assad's armed forces.  This is the town where Assad's father killed an estimated 10,000 or more in earlier uprisings about 30 years ago.  As detailed in an informative article by Al Jazeera, the recent events began to take place just days after we were there.

Finally, there are the demonstrations in Damascus and the storming of the French and American Embassies there.  These events are chillingly different because they seem to have been sponsored or at least encouraged by the government in response to the visit to Hama by the French and American Ambassadors.  The claim -- without foundation from everything we saw -- is that the anti-Assad demonstrations that have been going on for months now have been instigated by these foreign governments.  Our interpretation is that this is a very desperate attempt by Assad to legitimize his brutal crackdowns in the eyes of his dwindling supporters.

Is it now too dangerous to travel to Syria?

Prior to our trip my answer to this question would have been a quick "Yes."  After traveling there, meeting the people who are the targets of their government's brutal retaliation, and seeing firsthand the disconnect between filtered media versions of events and the reality we experienced, I'm not so sure.  But I think what would now keep me from going is the change in the government's attitude toward foreigners from being objects of  economic exploitation to scapegoats for justifying brutality.  If a government is willing to use tanks and machine guns to quell peaceful demonstrations and kill thousands in the process, it might not care about a protecting a few tourists.

The Benefits of Dangerous Travel

How do you know when you're in danger?  Sometimes it seems perfectly clear:  a truck barreling down on you as you cross a street;  hiking on a narrow ledge with a 500-foot fall;  a nervous mugger pointing a gun at you; an angry mob around you chanting anti-American slogans when you are in a foreign country.  In these examples the imminence of harm and the source of the threat are certain and unambiguous.

But many times assessing danger requires making an inference, an attribution, or an interpretation that isn't so clear.  As we begin to cross a street, we make inferences regarding the local norms involving drivers versus pedestrians and the likelihood a car or truck will yield to us.  When we encounter a high ledge while hiking we look at its riskiness based our assessment of our physical abilities and experience in comparable situations.  In planning a trip abroad we judge the likelihood of being the target of resentment or anger in a foreign country based on current news reports and personal accounts of other travelers.  We usually feel confident that we have correctly determined the threat or danger -- that we know whether we are in danger -- but in truth we have only really guessed.

I wrote last February that my wife and I were considering going ahead with our plans to visit the Middle East, despite the turmoil there (see my blog of February 15th) .  We did indeed make the trip, and recently returned from a month in Jordan, Syria, and Egypt.  We were there from April 12 to May 12, during the regional upheaval journalists and politicians have now dubbed the "Arab Spring"  or "Arab Awakening" (I suppose these are appropriate labels, but in this case Springtime and Awakening are associated with bullets, tanks, and firebombs).  We certainly hadn't planned to be involved in these momentous events, and new developments along the way forced us to assess danger far more than normal in our travels:  protests in Syria intensified and so did the brutal government crackdown on them;  just as we were about to enter Syria, the Jordan/Syria land border was closed, though it was still possible to fly between countries, which we did;  shortly after entering Syria the U.S. State Department issued a warning advising U.S. citizens to leave the country immediately (we didn't);   in Libya the UN stepped up its military action against the government; about halfway into our trip Osama Bin Laden was killed by U.S. forces; while we were in Egypt there were violent clashes between Christian and Muslim groups.

Were we in danger?  You might infer from the list of events above that we were standing in the middle of the street with a truck barreling down on us -- the clearly harrowing situation I suggested at the beginning.  And to be honest, if all these things happened right before we left home we might have cancelled.  But we're now convinced that would have been a mistake, that we were in fact not in significant danger, and that whatever level of risk present was far outweighed by the positive benefits of the trip.

We weighed the information we received from news sources and from the State Department along with our own direct observations, which contrasted sharply. Everywhere we went people of all walks of life, ages, and social position were genuinely welcoming and friendly -- particularly when they found out we were Americans.  Although we stood out like sore thumbs (it is not possible to blend in there, especially when you're two of only a handful of tourists), we never felt like targets of resentment or anger.  Naturally our inferences might have been wrong, but the probability of our misjudgment has to be considered in the context of 40 years of mostly independent travel that has exposed us to a variety of social situations and interactions requiring us to assess the sincerity and honesty of people's motives.  Based on that experience, we have to regard this as one of the safest trips we have ever taken and probably one of the most enjoyable.

Some of you reading this may wonder why we would travel to a place where there is even a chance of danger -- what's the great attraction that makes the inconvenience and potential hassles worthwhile?  This is tough to answer. In response to a good friend who challenged our motivation for this trip, I said that our rewards for travel here were the same as they always have been for us:  acquiring a deeper understanding of different cultures, including those under the thumb of notorious, disgusting regimes; seeing first-hand the layers of history embodied in the art and architecture of past civilizations and current societies;  appreciating the ecology and geology of other parts of the world.

Paul Theroux put it a bit more eloquently in a recent NYT article on traveling during turbulent times, and I'll close with his words:

"In the bungling and bellicosity that constitute the back and forth of history, worsened by natural disasters and unprovoked cruelty,  humble citizens pay the highest price. To be a traveler in such circumstances can be inconvenient at best, fatal at worst. But if the traveler manages to breeze past such unpleasantness on tiny feet, he or she is able to return home to report: 'I was there. I saw it all.' The traveler’s boast, sometimes couched as a complaint, is that of having been an eyewitness, and invariably this experience — shocking though it may seem at the time — is an enrichment, even a blessing, one of the life-altering trophies of the road. 'Don’t go there,' the know-it-all, stay-at-home finger wagger says of many a distant place. I have heard it my whole traveling life, and in almost every case it was bad advice. In my experience these maligned countries are often the most fulfilling."

Thoughts for a New Year

The year 2011 marks the beginning of the second decade of my retirement. A good time for some reflection and prognostication. ** [Warning: This may get a little boring, so feel free to go do something more interesting, like sorting your socks.]**

My wife and I retired in 2000 at age 55. Such a young retirement age may seem almost hopelessly unattainable for most people in the current economic climate, but conditions were much better then. We were fortunate to be able to finance our retirement through a combination of prudent savings, conservative investing, and 30+ years of contributions to a state teachers' pension plan. Oh, and we didn't have kids.

Looking back at these last ten years, I have to say that on the whole they have been really, really, good. In analyzing the reasons I feel so positive about this past decade, I've of course relied on my psychological training and my ability as a university professor to concoct an answer to any question whatsoever, regardless of whether I know what I'm talking about.

Retirement is an exercise in existential angst management second only to being a teenager (well, and for men maybe a Mid-Life Crisis). These times confront you with fearsome challenges to define your values and  goals, and to set a life course that will have a major impact on your emotional, social, and psychological well-being. The problem in both cases is that there is really no road map or set of guidelines to follow, and this lack of clarity can be quite scary.

Sure, you can make plans to do X or Y, as people often do when they retire: "I'm going to start a new business;" "I want to play every Robert Trent Jones course in the world;" I want to sail the South Pacific; "I'm going to buy an RV and travel;" "I'm going to learn Sanskrit;" "I'll clean out my garage." But having a plan doesn't really address the angst issue, even though it makes you feel like you've got everything under control. The truth is that over the past ten years, and indeed over the previous 55 years, the best experiences I've had were (a) unplanned and (b) unexpected.

Retirement has forced me to confront issues of what and who I am -- issues that I thought I had resolved during my career. In fact I now realize just how much my career was a defining structure that provided answers to these questions and gave my life meaning and purpose. When retirement removed that structure I had to confront the questions anew.  And since we moved away from the academic environment to a completely different cultural setting, I didn't even have the old social situations and institutions to ease the existential burden.

So, what I have learned, and why has it made me happy? Here's a partial list:

• Existential questions probably don't have final answers.  When you accept this, continuing to ask them and to explore temporary answers can actually be very satisfying and even fun.
• Learning new things and learning more about old things is a vital source of  my happiness, and learning can occur at any time and in any place if you let it.
• If you look closely at something, you will often find an amazing world in the details.
• Worrying is truly a waste of time that could be better spent doing something that enhances happiness.
• The qualities of people and things that we think make us happy or unhappy are not inherent in them.  Happiness isn't caused by people or things, but rather by our reactions to them.
• Compassion is the best antidote for anger.  And of course, you can't be happy and angry at the same time.

 See you in another ten years.