conspicuous consumerism: my single-handed attempt to buoy the U.S. economy

"What do you want for Father's Day?" Joni asked me a few days ago. I'm not sure how this tradition of giving presents to each other on Mother's Day and Father's Day began between us. This ritual continually perplexes me. Joni is not my mother, nor am I her father. Logically, it may have begun when Joni was pregnant with Marissa, our daughter, but I vaguely recall it began earlier than that. Who am I to argue with an opportunity for a gift though? Joni knows I always want SOMETHING and that the path of least resistance is to just ask. We're both much happier that way. I have to interject though that she rarely reciprocates. When I ask her what she wants, she shrugs, "Surprise me," she inevitably responds, which puts tremendous pressure upon me until the ceremonial unwrapping. Usually she's pleased with my efforts, but believe me, if she is not, she cannot disguise her disappointment . . . But I digress.

As always, I make a mental note of our financial circumstances and gauge how much I feel we can afford to spend this time around. Father's Day is a more trivial "holiday" so I never go for the big ticket items. No, such things are best requested around Christmas. But, I always covet items in a broad price range for just such occasions. This year I have opted for a Flash USB Swiss Army Knife. This handy little device sports the small blade, the scissors, the fingernail file, LED flashlight, pen and a USB flash drive (8GB. It also comes in 4GB and 16GB sizes). It comes in around $75 on Amazon.com, my go-to shopping mall in cyberspace.

I recognize that there is something unseemly about my acquisitiveness and believe me, I have tried for many years to curtail it. I was extremely successful when I was laid off from AT&T (after 23 years, but don't get me started!). Necessity is a wonderful motivator. As an example, my doctor recently ordered me to lose weight due to issues that could escalate. Nothing serious, your usual pre-diabetes potential, high blood pressure, elevating cholesterol, etc. Yes, I'm a mess! Thank you very much! Vanity used to serve as a motivator to keep my weight down to some extent, but conspicuous consumption is my disease of choice and it extends into all aspects of my life. So I was losing (which means gaining weight) on that front as well. Now, happily, I am trimmer than I have been in years. Necessity is a cruel but effective master. But again, I digress.

Some years have passed since my layoff from AT&T and we have equalized our income to a relatively stable point (thanks, primarily to Joni. God bless her Yale Law School education). So needless to say, my bad habits have returned. I can attest that my purchases occur less often and at a much scaled-down rate, so I suppose I am making some progress. I recognize I have a problem and they say recognition is the beginning of the road to recovery. I often joke that I am simply trying to do my share to stimulate the U.S. economy through my purchases, but let's face it, I often feel guilty at any indulgences.

The two indulgences I don't regret in my life however (and these are big ones, mind you), are my Audi TT and my Steinway Grand Piano. I have coveted the TT from the moment it was unveiled to the public in 1999. To me, it is the standard of automobile design excellence, maintaining an integrity of design that is evident in every detail down to the door handles. I have the privilege of driving this design masterpiece to and from work every day.

And the Steinway, well it was not my idea to purchase it so I can plead a certain amount of innocence in ultimately becoming a proud owner. Joni had a friend who was encountering some financial setbacks and thus offered her the piano at a very reasonable price. The piano was in desperate need of rehabilitation, but even with those costs factored in, it was a bargain. Just as I smile contentedly driving my TT, so too, do I smile whenever I sit down to play a tune on my piano.

Yes, I have mixed feelings about my capitalistic ways. I suppose I should just get over those feelings of guilt. We spend our money how we choose to spend it. Some opt for drugs, some for lavish homes. Some, many, are not as fortunate. Overall, I guess I should just be thankful that I do have disposable income available. I am grateful that I have a roof over my head, that I don't have to worry about where my next meal is coming from. Yes, there are many people who are far more fortunate than I am, but there are many who are far less fortunate as well. Even more importantly, I have to conclude (as I process this through this writing) we have to be thankful for all of our blessings and not for just the material things. The idea that our possessions can be taken from us in an instant is evident in the news photos of events like the various tsunamis, and tornadoes that have recently transpired. "Things" wear out, are destroyed, become obsolete.

The truly important aspects of our life are not the material objects. They are the relationships we form, the way we live our life, the manner in which we share our journey. I am blessed with a wife who loves me, a beautiful, intelligent daughter, and an overall happy life. The TT and the Steinway are nice little embellishments, but in a fire, they can burn. It would be my wife and daughter I would be saving.

quantum computing: the means to prove "alternate universes"

In this week's issue of The New Yorker, an article by Rivka Galchen, entitled "Dream Machine," chronicles the theories of David Deutsch, a quantum physicist. Deutsch believes that, and this is important as it lays the foundation of quantum mechanics, "particles can be in two places at once, a quality called superposition; that two particles can be related, or 'entangled,' such that they can instantly coordinate their properties, regardless of their distance in space and time; and that when we look at particles, we unavoidably alter them." Incidentally, Albert "Einstein found entanglement particularly troubling, denigrating it as a 'spooky action at a distance.'"

Bear with me here as I backtrack a little. In 1957, Hugh Everett, another physicist, postulated that "every time there is more than one possible outcome, all of them occur. So if a radioactive atom might or might not decay at any given second, it both does and doesn't; in one universe it does, and in another it doesn't. These small branchings of possibility then ripple out until everything that is possible in fact is. According to Many Worlds (the name given to the alternate universe) theory, instead of a single history there are in-numerable branchings. In one universe your cat has died, in another he hasn't, in a third you died in a sledding accident at age seven and never put your cat in the box in the first place, and so on."

In Many Worlds theory, the strangeness of superposition is simply "the phenomenon of physical variables having different values in different universes." Thus the entanglement (also referred to as superposition) that bothered Einstein, is resolved. Information between two particles separated by space and time "still spreads through direct contact - the 'ordinary' way; it's just we need to adjust to that contact being via the tangencies of abutting universes. As a further bonus, in Many Words theory randomness goes away, too. A ten-percent chance of an atom decaying is not arbitrary at all, but rather refers to the certainty that the atom will decay in ten-percent of the universes branched from that point."

Deutsch postulates that a quantum computer, fundamentally different from the ones we presently employ, could help prove the existence of Many Worlds. "A quantum computer is in many ways like a regular computer, but instead of bits it uses qubits. Each qubit can be zero or one, like a bit, but a qubit can also be zero AND one - the quantum-mechanical quirk known as superposition." "Superposition is like Freud's description of true amblivalence: not feeling unsure, but feeling opposing extremes of conviction at once. And, just as ambivalence holds more information than any single emotion, a qubit holds more information than a bit."

"Entangled particles have a kind of E.S.P.: regardless of distance, they can instantly share information that an observer cannot even perceive is there. Input into a quantum computer can thus be dispersed among entangled qubits, which lets the processing of that information be spread out as well; tell one particle something, and it can instantly spread the word among all the other particles with which it's entangled."

Ultimately, "entangled particles would function as paths of communication among different universes, sharing information and gathering the results. " While it is technically difficult to produce a quantum computer (for reasons too technical for me to even begin to understand, let alone explain), attempts ARE being made. A Yale team has constructed one that is built on a two-qubit architecture. Qubits chips are incredibly difficult to manufacture but once techniques are developed, more and more qubits can be incorporated, ultimately leading to a computer dreamed of by Deutsch. The present computer can calculate with 80% accuracy, which of four randomly dealt cards has the queen. Such is the potential power of a quantum computer.

Personally, without the solid background of quantum physics in my repertoire, I BELIEVE in the Many Worlds theory. Call it intuitive or just a leap of faith, I just KNOW there are infinite possibilities that exist out there and that my multiple selves are pursuing each and every one of them.

the "C" word

Last month I received the disheartening news that I had been diagnosed with prostate cancer. Due to my regular visits to the doctor, thankfully, I am in the very early stages. Statistically this bodes well. Based on a biopsy, my doctor estimates the cancer resides in less than 5% of my prostate, confined presently to one side. It is presumed to be a very slow growing malignancy based upon the degree of cell differentiation (usually a fairly good indicator) identified in my biopsy sample. There is approximately a 20% chance (depending upon the books you read) that the cancer is more pervasive and/or has migrated outside of the prostate, which could be bad. Typically prostate cancer spreads first to the lymph nodes, then to the bones. This is of course the worst case scenario. I'm still in denial so I'm feeling relatively calm about the whole thing, but the full realization is slowly taking hold and thus this post which is allowing me to process all of this information. Thus far my research has pointed to one of two possible options (I've pretty much ruled out any radiation therapy): surgery to remove my prostate (which offers two options of its own) or a strategy called watchful waiting.

The surgical option is fairly straightforward. I can have the doctor cut me open and remove the prostate or he can perform this operation via a robotic arm known as the DaVinci method (a nice sounding name undoubtedly chosen for the implication that it is a combination of science and art). Or instead, I can opt to wait. This option entails monitoring the growth (or lack thereof since it is typically a slow growing cancer) every 3 months via a blood test, augmented by a biopsy at the year mark. The reason to employ the watchful waiting strategy is to forestall surgery until the cancer "needs" to be addressed. Why wait? Well, the possible side-effects of surgery are incontinence and/or impotence, both quality of life issues, BIG quality of life issues for most, if not ALL men, I daresay. HOWEVER, quality of life issues don't count for much if you're dead (really, a minimal prospect at this point).

A number of factors need to be considered in making the decision over which course of action to pursue. Age (and this is a big one for me), the presumed aggressiveness of the cancer, the present (again presumed) extent of the cancer and other mitigating circumstances such as physical health, previous surgical history, etc. If the diagnosed patient is older, say in his 70s or 80s, odds are that other factors will intervene to kill the patient before the prostate cancer does. Plus, at this age, surgery becomes less viable due to the body's diminished ability to recover, etc.

However, if the cancer is diagnosed in a younger man such as myself (well, it's all relative - at my age, I'm on the "younger" side of the spectrum) the prospect of surgery becomes much more viable. It's important to remove the cancer before it has the chance to spread in this instance. Also, a younger man has a better prospect of recovery (especially as it pertains to the potential incontinence complication, and a somewhat positive hopeful outcome with that "other" issue).

At this point, I'm heavily leaning towards the surgical option most likely employing the DaVinci method. I continue to read all of the literature available to me, primarily to educate myself about all of the pros and cons and to equip myself with the knowledge to ask the right questions as I seek the right surgeon for the job. In the meantime, I'm eating better, exercising regularly and working at losing some of my excess weight. All of the books I've read thus far have recommended these steps as an overall strategy to prevent and minimize the risks of cancer. Perhaps with this as a motivation versus the old one of just plain vanity, I can maintain a healthier lifestyle. After all, I do plan on sticking around for a long time.

fireflies

I had never seen a firefly until I was about thirty years-old. I was in Tennessee to attend the wedding of my brother-in-law and we were having a barbecue in the backyard of a fine Southern home that overlooked a lake. It was dusk when the dancing, magical lights appeared around us, little flickers of light that glowed briefly, disappeared, then reappeared in a delightful display of playfulness inspired by the courtship behavior of these beetle-related insects. It was like a Disney movie come to life. Sadly, more than ten years passed before I was to see them again.

My next encounter with these creatures transpired when we moved to Connecticut for Joni to attend Yale Law School. I had rented a condominium for us in the small blue-collar town of Wallingford, ideally positioned between New Haven, where Yale is located and Farmington, where my new office was based. The condominium complex bordered a golf course that was on the outskirts of the town proper. From the freeway exit, we had to traverse largely undeveloped land to get to our condo. There was a small wooded area where the road bisected a pond filled with peepers and of course, fireflies. At night, the pond area looked as though it had been strung with hundreds of tiny blinking lights. The water of the pond reflected those lights doubling the effect, creating the illusion of floating inside a small universe of animated stars.

Another amazing firefly sighting occurred as we drove to Spartanburg, So. Carolina one night. The fireflies hovered above car level on the unlit freeway. They appeared as streams of light much like the depiction of jumping into hyperspace in the Star Wars movies. Their contrails surrounded us as we sped quietly through the night.

in memories or dreams

I've had some rare experiences that now remain but are somewhat faded or obscured by my previously mentioned failing memory casting doubts on whether these experiences were really memories or just dreams. One such instance occurred while on a trip in Colorado. Although based in Denver, I recall we had wandered miles from the city to sample some of the more remote outlying areas. It was late in the day and I had a terrible headache. We had miles to go to return to Denver and we were heading through a mountainous area. Joni, my wife, had fallen asleep next to me. The car labored perceptibly as it climbed the ascending grade of the road. A fog had somehow risen almost in perfect rhythm to the setting sun. And then it happened. Suddenly, in the middle of the road was a wild burro. I had to step on the brake and swerve to avoid hitting it. It had just appeared from the swirling fog. I continued down the road, now creeping slowly and there on my left was another, then two. More appeared to my right and I could suddenly see I was amidst a herd of wild burros who stood calmly like statues placed randomly for some kind of quirky exhibition. They were neither disturbed nor remotely interested in the presence of the car moving among them. We could have been invisible to them for the total lack of reaction we elicited. I followed the road as the almost mythical creatures surrounded us in that swatch of billowing fog. And then it was over. I had passed through them and the road began to descend, the fog disappearing slowly as it thinned out into first wisps, then nothing.

Recently I asked Joni if she remembered that incident, but of course she did not. She had remained in a peaceful state of sleep throughout that portion of the drive home. She could not validate whether that magical moment had actually occurred or whether it was just a dream. I'm almost sure it had happened. I would not have dreamed of wild burros appearing in the midst of a mysterious fog on a lonely mountain road in Colorado at dusk. It does not seem like something that my subconscious would ever conjure up . . . or would it?

design - the aston martin one-77

The limited edition (to 77) Aston Martin One-77. Need I say more?

lost in translation - an update

I successfully received my Digital Holga from my friend in Japan, one week after the confirmation of shipment notification. The camera is befitting the Digital Holga moniker as it is constructed of cheap plastic and exhibits the same featherweight heft (or lack thereof) of the original Holga. It is much more compact however, and boasts an impressive array of features comparable to most of the digital point and shoots on the market. Primarily, it has the LCD viewing screen on the back with a respectable amount of adjustable settings accessed via the menu function. Regrettably, the image quality is quite good for a plastic lens. Damn technology! Evidently, gone are the days of mediocrity (at least, as far as cheap optics are concerned). Below is the first image taken with the Digital Holga.

Besides adjusting the color rendition (everything seems to have a greenish-cast), the image is pretty much intact. I did create a sepia version of the image which looks pretty nice, but again, the quality is superior to that of a Holga.

The camera thus falls in a perplexing twilight zone between "acceptable quality" digital and "excessively high quality" plastic camera imagery. I'll have to assess how to utilize my new toy to its maximum creative potential. I may either degrade the quality of the image with an application of Vaseline to the lens, which would not be a problem but for the beautiful reddish lens coating that screams "don't mess with me!" or instead, apply some trickery during the post processing stage. I'm leaning towards the former solution. If successful, I'll of course share the resulting images with all of you. After all, there's nothing better than a poor quality image.