Archive - 2011
November 21st
The Experimental Memoir Day 21
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Mon, 11/21/2011 - 20:57Small things can really put you out of sorts at times and the past few days have been one of those times. On Friday evening, we went to the Connecticut Citizens Action Group fortieth anniversary fundraiser. Since I had been gone for much of the week and was tired and way behind on many things, like email and writing, it was unclear if I would try to stop by.
However, Kim and Fiona were going to be there, and it was on the way home, so I figured I’d stop in. I was undecided about how long I would stay. When I arrived, I was quickly put to work. First, I stuffed leaflets into the programs that guests would receive. Then, I spent some time arranging posters about the last forty years. Kim sat down to check people in and I started talking with various guests. Many were long time friends, whom it was great to see.
There were a couple tables set up with little cubes of cheese, Swiss, cheddar, and some sort of jalapeno cheese. Often these cheese cubes are not all that tasty, and I often go for the jalapeno cheese since it has a little more flavor. At other events, there is sometimes a cheese made with port that is better than the average conference center cheese.
Another table had the standard vegetables. Long sticks of carrot, celery and sliced green peppers. There was a large bowl of ranch dressing for the vegetables. Later, people circulated platters of pigs in a blanket and mushroom caps stuffed with sausage. The pigs in a blanket were pretty good, but the mushroom caps stuffed with sausage were fairly bland. At times, I loaded up little cocktail plates of assorted snacks to take to Kim where she was checking people in.
Later, they set up platters of cookies. Again, these were fairly generic chocolate chip cookies, the type you’d find at many events like this. I ate a cookie or two, and then I noticed something hard amidst the crumbs in my mouth. At first, I thought that perhaps it was a nutshell. I fished the offending object from my mouth and found it was part of a tooth. One of my lower molars had come apart.
A similar thing had happened to me a few years prior when we were camping on Cape Cod. We had been making smores. I bit into a soft piece of graham cracker with a piece of chocolate on top and a melted marshmallow. In that case, the tooth seemed to break apart more spectacularly and it felt like my mouth had been filled with tiny pieces of gravel.
When I was a kid, I had cavities in various teeth. The dentist did a good job of filling these cavities and now over forty years later, it may simply be that the fillings or the teeth around them are simply wearing out.
After the tooth collapse on Cape Cod, a dentist in town cleaned out the old filling and put in a new filling. There was enough tooth left so that I didn’t need a crown or bridge, or whatever other dental procedures they sometimes do. I am hoping to be as lucky this time.
When I arrived at home, I tweeted, “Home. Tired. Broken Tooth.” Many people asked me what had happened or sympathized with my condition. I provided a little more detail in follow up tweets.
The broken tooth has not been particularly painful. I don’t have any sort of throbbing or consistent pain like often accompanies problems with teeth. The area around the tooth is a little sore, as is the side of my tongue, but I believe all of this is because of the rough edges of the broken tooth.
When there is something different, something out of the ordinary going on in my mouth, I find my tongue exploring it, and this broken tooth is no different. This probably also contributes to my oral discomfort. However, it isn’t really all that annoying.
Nonetheless, all of this keeps me a little on edge, and I find myself feeling generally achy and irritable.
Perhaps it is because of this that I am sensing a general malaise amongst the people I speak with. Everyone seems to have something to complain about, and on the grander scale, politics in California after the pepper spray incident at UC Davis, as well as politics in Washington after the supercommittee threw in the towel seem to indicate a greater national malaise.
November 20th
Occupy the High Moral Ground, The Experimental Memoir, Day 20
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Sun, 11/20/2011 - 22:24It is Sunday evening, and I’m sitting down to write another installment of my Experimental Memoir. This is part of National Novel Writing Month where people try to write a whole novel of fifty thousand words in a month. I’ve been submitting long blog posts reflecting on the month as a sort of stream of consciousness homage to Virginia Woolf, James Joyce and others. I mention this for the benefit for people jumping into the middle of this stream.
On Thursday, Fiona and Kim went to the Occupy Hartford protest. Fiona spoke with police officers who supported the movement and who understood their role in protecting everyone, and not just a few. She learned about civil disobedience and the importance of standing up against injustice and inequality.
Fiona is part of a multi-aged group in her school. There are about seventy-five students in four grades and they do various things together as a large group and other activities with students their own age. On Fridays they have a ‘meeting’ with all the students to discuss the issues of the week and to share what is going on. Fiona described her experiences at the demonstration.
At ten years of age, Fiona already has quite a political background. She appeared with Governor Dean when he was running for President when she was just two years old. She handed out palm cards for Kim the following year when Kim was running for State Representative, urging people heading into the polling location to “Vote for Mommy”.
When she was six, I started doing an internet based radio show with her just about every week. Together, we’ve talked about the events of the week. We’ve had some great guests on the show including Howard Dean, Dannell Malloy, Denise Merrill, Kevin Lembo, Rosa DeLauro and several State Representatives. This evening, she spoke about her experiences at the demonstration and about talking about it with her classmates.
We also spoke a little bit about what has happened at University of California at Davis. She has seen some of the videos and generally knows what happened.
On Friday evening, Kim, Fiona and I attended the Connecticut Citizens Action Group fortieth anniversary gala. Fiona saw various long time friends and people who had been guests on her radio show. Yet perhaps the most interesting discussion was with an experienced activist who asked me if I thought we were at the beginning of a movement. I didn’t hesitate to say that I believe so.
I spoke about my experience at the first Occupy Hartford meetings. One of the people stood up and said he was from Tunisia and was greeted by a large round of applause. Yes, the occupy movement is part of something much bigger which is tied to Tunisia and Egypt and beyond. My friend remained unconvinced at spoke about the difficulties occurring in Egypt right now.
It is important to differentiate between a movement and short term political successes or setbacks. Yes, I believe the occupy movement is part of a larger movement which includes Tunisia, and Egypt as well as other places like Libya, Syria, and perhaps even Iran. I don’t believe this is a small short term change will have a minor effect on the 2012 U.S. elections and then fade away. No, there’s something else going on here, and it has to do with a lot more than people setting up tents in various cities.
One thought comes to me from Jeff Jarvis. Jeff is a journalism professor at City University of New York. He is well known for talking about how journalism needs to change in the age of the Internet. He has often spoken about Guttenberg and how that changed the way knowledge and power were distributed. He’s taken that to challenge journalists, and particularly freshly minted journalism school graduates, to think about the parallels between what Guttenberg did to publishing and what the internet is doing to journalism.
Yet recently, he came up with a challenging thought. What if we haven’t even seen the beginning of the changes that the internet is bringing to our world. Perhaps that is another aspect of the occupy movement. Everyone has talked about the role of Twitter and Facebook in the Arab spring.
I think this is an important idea. You can’t tell what a movement is going to look like when it is just beginning. You can have ideas, but it can be a long bumpy road and different themes will emerge over time.
One of the first messages I saw on Twitter about the pepper spraying at UC Davis was about it being an image that would be engrained in everybody’s mind. Over the next couple days, it became clearer and it appears as if a new narrative is emerging.
James Fallows wrote this article for The Atlantic, The Moral Power of an Image: UC Davis Reactions. He compares the images of the UC Police Officer spraying students with pepper spray to images “of black civil rights protestors being fire-hosed by Bull Connor's policemen in Alabama” and “the Tank Man in Tiananmen Square”. These are powerful images and there are plenty more that come to mind.
As an update, Fallows mentions “The disciplined, contemptuous dead silence of the protestors through whom UC Davis chancellor Linda Katehi walks en route to her car…[as] another astonishingly powerful demonstration of moral imagery”.
Yet, as interesting as it is to talk about the imagery, there is another word that resonates through Fallows article, “morality”.
One early tweet about UC Davis compared the event to the Stanford Experiments surrounded by hundreds of handheld cameras. The tweet didn’t mention the moral issues, but it was clearly implied.
Over in Psychology Today, Michael Chorost wrote, The turning point: The moral example of UC Davis students, and Occupy Wall Street He starts off saying, “This event is powerfully symbolic. It is about contempt from those in power and the wanton use of force against the powerless.”
He goes on to say,
If I had to sum up the attitude of America's governing classes in one word, I would say: contempt.
We are seeing the beginning of a worldwide movement to fight for dignity and intelligent, collective governance.
He ends his article with, “I think we have just reached a turning point.”
Last month, I wrote a blog post entitled Occupy New England. In it, I wrote,
Yet our country has a tendency to forget its roots. Too many leaders sacrifice a love of their neighbors for a love of money. At times, we return to our ideals with ‘Great Awakenings’, returning to the underlying moral beliefs, not about who can marry whom, but about how we should care for one another.
All of these thoughts ran through my mind as I occupied my space in a pew in a small New England church. Perhaps, the occupy movement is part of a call to return to the underlying morality, a compassion for our neighbors, that I believe our country was built on.
My interest in Great Awakenings is nothing new. Back in the summer of 2010, I wrote in a different blog post about a visit to a friend’s church,
A key interest for me is telling our stories online. I’ve been interested in the history of revivalism in America. The Great Awakenings have led not only to great religious revivals, but also to major political and social changes. Will the twenty first century bring us a Great Digital Awakening? What might that look like?
So, for the month of November, I’ve been telling my story, in great detail, online. I continue to listen to the stories around me, especially stories about the Occupy movement and moral ground. Perhaps the occupy movement is really part of something much, much greater. Initially, I had written about it in terms of renegotiating the social contract. Perhaps it is also about recalibrating the moral compass.
At church today, the lesson was from the Gospel of Matthew, chapter twenty-five. When I came home, I took a line from the Gospel and added it to one of the pictures of the students being pepper sprayed by the police officer. I added a line about praying for the police officer, the chief of police and the chancellor.
Yes, it is time to recalibrate our moral compasses and take the moral high ground.
The Experimental Memoir Day 20 - Chores
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Sun, 11/20/2011 - 17:07It is a nice Sunday afternoon and I am sitting quietly at home in my office. I am surrounded by a collection of old computers in various states of disrepair. The oldest is probably about fifteen years old. It is running an old version of Microsoft Windows that is no longer supported. It doesn’t have a lot of memory, and the cover is off from the number of times I’ve taken it apart to tinker with one thing or another that is broken.
I’ve been using this as my primary email machine for many years, and I’ve spent much of the weekend cleaning out enough old emails and moving the ones I want to save to appropriate archives so that I could catch up on some of my other emails. Currently, there are about 23,000 unread emails on that machine. On one of my cellphones I check a couple webmail accounts, where I have about 5,500 unread emails. On a different computer, I check an old email account I don’t use that often and find about 30,000 unread emails there. With the exception of the last account, I’ve more or less kept on top of the emails to remove spam. A lot of the remaining emails are from various organizations, mostly political and non-profits, that are trying to get my attention for one cause or another.
Some of these emails I simply delete. Others, I save in my archives in case I ever want to refer back to them. There are thousands and thousands of additional unread emails, that I’ve determined that I want to keep in one archive or another and have been saved to special folders.
Years ago, when there was much less email, I used to save pretty much every email that I sent or received, and at one point, I sent off a large collection of these emails to a researcher at Harvard to study. I never heard the results of the study.
Kim and Fiona have set off on some adventure, mostly to give me a little space to work on all the projects that need to be dealt with. Probably second on my list is working on the Experimental Memoir. As part of NaNoWriMo, my goal is to write 50,000 words for this. Between work, travelling, speaking at a conference, trying to catch up on everything else, and stay on top of current events, I’ve now slipped to nearly a week behind.
To succeed, you need to write an average of 1,667 words a day. I am far enough behind, that I need to write over 2,500 words a day. We’ll see how much I can get written today, and how the coming week goes, but I may abandon the effort soon.
On top of this, there are plenty of daily tasks to be addressed. Yesterday, I took Fiona over to the music store. We have two old clarinets. One is a clarinet that I played when I was Fiona’s age. Some of the corks and pads have come off, and it needs a general fix up. The music store sent it off to the folks they deal with for repairs and it should be back in a couple of weeks. The other clarinet, I believe, is one that my brother got at a tag sale once. It was in a beat up musty old oboe case with a broken handle. It just didn’t fit properly and Fiona wasn’t all that excited about using it.
At the store, we bought a new case. This one is much more like the backpacks that have come to dominate the school scene and Fiona was very happy with it. We picked up some new reeds and a kit for cleaning the clarinets. We moved the old wooden clarinet into the new case and I spent some time helping Fiona get going with the clarinet.
I was pleased to see that even with an old clarinet which isn’t in the greatest shape, I could still play a little bit. Right now, Fiona is working simply on getting the clarinet to make a nice sound. Later, we’ll work on reading music and learning fingering, although she does already know a little bit about reading music.
There are various piles of dishes next to me in the office as well. I need to carry them out to the kitchen, and run a load of dishes through the dishwasher. However, right now, I can hear the washing machine in the basement spinning.
For the past two weeks, Wesley has had stitches in. Because of this, he needed to have a cone around his head and couldn’t run freely in the yard the way he likes to. Yet even with his injury, he was large and strong, and pulled on the leash when Kim would take him out to do his duty. From that, and perhaps other stresses in our lives, Kim’s back has been sore and she hasn’t been able to do the laundry. So, today, on top of everything else, I’m trying to run several loads of laundry through the washer and drier.
When I used to work from home, I did much of the laundry. On top of that, I would hang it out to dry. During the summer months, I would hang it outside. We don’t have a clothes line, but we have a lot of lawn chairs, so I would hang the clothes on various chairs. In the winter time, I would hang the clothes from a drying rack in the basement.
It would take a while for the clothes to dry, so it was hard to get more than a load done a day. However, it would be a nice break from whatever project I was working on. Between Kim’s sore back and me being gone for several days, there is a lot of laundry to be done and there just isn’t time to hang all of the clothes out to dry.
So, I select the biggest, heaviest pieces of clothing, like sweatshirts and towels and hang them up to dry. The rest I throw into the drier.
After I started another load, Kim and Fiona came home. Fiona had a couple bags from Goodwill. They are full of old stuffed animals. Kim is concerned about bringing home stuffed animals from thrift shows, out of fear of importing bedbugs, lice or other vermin into the house. So, she told Fiona to put them into the drier at a high temperature first thing. Unfortunately, the drier was already in use, so the bags have been set next to the drier and are waiting their turn.
Another big task waiting to be done is bottling cider. Currently, there are three large jugs of hard cider sitting on the dining room table. One is ready to be bottled. The other two need to be racked off and allowed to settle.
Before I left, I had ran a dishwasher full of bottles. I covered them carefully and so they are ready to be used to bottle cider. When I bottle the first batch, I will then clean the jar and then rack off cider from one jug to the next to allow them to settle. Later, I’ll do Fiona’s Radio Show with her and if I have time and energy after all of that, try to sit down again and write a little bit more.
November 19th
UC Davis: The Civility Project
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Sat, 11/19/2011 - 11:49I have been following the trending topic on Twitter, UC Davis and with it, watched the following video:
From this, I started doing a little research and found the following blog post by U.C. Davis Chancellor Linda P.B. Katehi,
It starts:
UC Davis has a long tradition of promoting community, particularly our Principles of Community. We are a campus known for its civility and our commitment to respect, equality and freedom of expression runs deep.
While I applaud the goals of the civility project, I find the contrast between the goals and the video profound, so I've posted the following as a comment to the blog post:
I was very interested to see a video UC Davis Police Officers interacting with students in the ongoing discussion about economic disparities in the United States as described on MSNBC:
Video spreads of UC Davis cops pepper spraying Occupy students
http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/45364967/ns/us_news-life/#.TsfNzl-AhZMIs this an example of The Civility Project which demonstrates your "commitment to respect, equality and freedom of expression"?
It is currently waiting moderation.
The Experimental Memoir Day 19
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Sat, 11/19/2011 - 09:18(Still catching up ... 17a)
The departure from Las Vegas was uneventful. We left the hotel at around four in the morning, which isn't really all that bad. It's seven in the morning Connecticut time. At that hour, it was easy to get a cab, check in at the airport, pass through security and get to our gate. Even that early, the airport was buy, except none of the shops were open. There were slot machines trying to capture a last bit of change from departing tourists.
Next to our gate was an oxygen bar. I've often heard of them, and thought it would be fun to try. However, the oxygen bar is not yet open. There was a recharging station and I pondered plugging my laptop in there, out of concern about having enough energy for the flight. There was free wifi, so I managed to get online briefly and check on my social media sites. I discovered a few interesting things, but there wasn't a lot going on there.
Boarding the plane was quick and uneventful. Again, it was a full flight. However, on this flight, there wasn't a young mother with an infant across the aisle from us and a corporate lawyer sat down between my boss and I. As the plane took off, there was one last glance at the strip. I checked in on Foursquare at the hotel, and one of the tips a person had left was "Whatever happens in Vegas, ends up on Facebook."
Well, other than my presentation, there wasn't much memorable that happened in Vegas on this trip. I looked out at the strip, with its fancy resorts shrinking in the distance through the oval plane window. Illusion and magic are closely linked.
No, there aren't any illusions from Vegas that I recall, and as best as I can tell, there wasn't any magic that happened either. The presentation went well and seemed to have been well received, but that is about it.
But, on the other hand, perhaps the real magic, the Velveteen Rabbit magic takes places slowly, over a long period and you never see when it is actually taking place. Perhaps the seeds of something magical was planted during the trip, maybe like the magic bean seeds that seem like a waste but lead to a great adventure. We'll see.
As the plane climbs out of Vegas, I looked to the mountains in the distance. There was a mist over them, bluish gray, with a tinge of yellow from the rising sun. Perhaps that's where the real magic happens, it the solitude of nature, of the mountains.
Thinking back to artificial neural networks, perhaps what is needed is time for the network to stabilize, for all of the overstimulation to fade away to nothingness.
This mist of the mountains is beautiful, even from the up above. Slowly, the mist disperses and the mountain come into full view. Snow appears on the peaks as we fly over the rockies. Soon, the landscape flattens out into large grids of farm land.
Next to me, the corporate lawyer is watching some chick flick as best I can tell. "Crazy, Dumb, Love". It is so different from "The Fifth Element" that the tattooed young man who sat between my boss and I on the hop from Denver to Las Vegas was watching.
My mind wanders to some anti utopian novel, I think it was Orwell's 1984, where in one scene, there is a commentary about the differences between what was provided as videos to the men and women of that novel.
Prior to heading out to Vegas, I heard an interview with Diane Keaton talking about her new memoir about her mother and herself. There was lots of discussion about the movie Annie Hall, and I can't help but think about Annie Hall and Crazy, Dumb, Love. Perhaps my recollections are dim, and I'm remembering Annie Hall as a better movie than it actually was. Perhaps I'm not giving Crazy, Dumb, Love a fair shake because I'm only glancing at images of it on a laptop next to me, without any of the sound, but it seems like night and day, as if Crazy, Dumb, Love is some formulaic knockoff attempt at Annie Hall.
When I lived in New York City, I used to get to the art house theaters, The Metro, the Thalia, Film Forum. I saw a lot of great films back then. Now, many of the art houses are gone. There chances to see really interesting movies have faded, like the end of certain early Wim Wender's films.
I saw a cartoon once where a man was running down the street proclaiming, "mediocrity is rampant". Perhaps we've settled for mediocrity. Perhaps it has become too hard to find quality.
Ah yes, quality. The word for Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Perhaps his madness made sense, like that of Van Gough, Woolfe, or Plath.