The Voice of Reason

Been a while...

2007-01-22T23:50:00.000-07:00

Not much to blog about over the previous half year, especially now that Aaron has stopped paying for flights. This, of course, leaves me with the unsavory choice of either paying for my own flights or simply not going at all. Lately I have chosen the latter. However, with Aaron's IFR training underway, I was given the rare opportunity to fly to Lethbridge in less than half the time it would take via automobile, completely free of charge and without a great deal of regard to the weather.

After having made flights in aircraft that can best be described as airborne golf carts, the plane for this trip will be none other than the more expensive and upper-scale Beechcraft Dutchess. With two engines (as opposed to one), it slices through the air at almost 300 kph. Being an IFR flight we need not worry about clouds or snow, issues that had scrapped many a previous flight with Lethbridge in mind.

In no time at all, we were there and back again. For the first time we were able to fly over clouds on the return flight from Lethbridge, a situation that is permissible in VFR flight but only if the clouds are broken enough that a descent can be made without passing through them. The picture above shows our approach into a bank of cloud on the way down in which we will spend over half the trip. Perhaps another opportunity will arise for such a trip, although at such a hefty price tag it is unlikely that a trip of this scale will be repeated.

White trash warzone

2006-07-30T22:59:00.000-06:00

Ah, Saturday morning. There's nothing I like doing better on a Saturday morning than sleeping it away, but alas this Saturday is not to be a typical Saturday. This Saturday I awake to the sounds of shouting coming from my kitchen. At first, before I regain lucidity, I imagine this sound to be one of any number of common neighbourhood sounds such as kids playing, people talking, etc. To combat this, I place a pillow over my head in an attempt to stifle out the annoyances and return to my peaceful slumber. But even having one's head sandwiched between two pillows is insufficient to block out the battle forming in the neighbouring yard just outside my widely-open kitchen window.

After a few minutes of trying in vain to block out the sounds of shouting, I begin to realize that a) it's not stopping and b) I should probably go investigate lest it turn out to be some sort of hoe-down in the neighbouring yard, complete with a bonfire of epic proportions. Yes, this is the same house that, on the hottest days of the year, will light a fire using any and all recyclables (direct from a recycling bag or bin, I might add) and let it smolder for no less than 12 hours straight. This in turn requires me to either suffer the toxic fumes of that fire drifting throughout my house, or to seal the windows up tight and die of heat exhaustion. Needless to say, I hope what I hear are not shouts of enjoyment or happiness. Today I will not be disappointed.

By the time I reach the kitchen window, it has become perfectly obvious that the man and woman next door are involved in what might be referred to as a "domestic dispute." The cursing seems to be on full blast and at full volume such that when either of them screams obscenities at the other (especially the woman), it was as if they were screaming them directly into my face (which was, as it turns out, not far from where they were standing in the alley). At this point in time, it appears as thought the dispute is over the fact that the man wants to leave (yay!) and the woman doesn't want him to go (boo!) because she doesn't have any money. Not that this comes as a shock to me, as their yard looks like it is populated by items obtained either directly from the dump, or from the very last step before they got there.

Now at this point time one would expect that a "typical" domestic disturbance would resolve itself in a few minutes at most, as the participants realize they are screaming at the top of their lungs in full view of an entire neighbourhood. They should then return to their household to revolve things like normal human beings. But we all know that people who collect dump garbage for yard ornamentation (they once pushed a hot tub into a tree... a hot tub in a tree, what else can I say?) are not normal, and these two won't be disproving that theory. Instead of retiring to their house, another man and woman emerge from the house, neither of whom I have ever seen before. For lack of a better way to describe them, I will say the man looks like a typical hippie and the woman looks like a typical drug addict. For some reason the hippie man now becomes agitated and thus we begin phase two of the yelling.

Unlike in phase one in which the yelling seemed to be incoherent and largely obscured by the running of a very loud and very poorly maintained vehicle also located in the alley by my window, phase two involves the hippie guy yelling more coherent obscenities at the guy who lives there. Notable quotes from his tirade include "alls I did was give out a bunch of dope" and "you guys think I'm going to come in and smoke crack and it's all forgotten about?" Hmmmm, looks like my suspicions about my neighbour dealing drugs aren't unfounded at all. After the latter statement, the neighbour guy quickly corrals the hippie guy and leads him into the garage to talk, presumably so that he doesn't say "crack" while people might be listening. Hehe, too late. After a while, this guy finally disappears, but not before I get the distinct impression that this all revolves around a drug deal either gone bad or in the process of going bad. Thus we progress to phase three.

Phase three starts with a relative calm lasting a few hours that is abruptly broken by the return of the hippie guy. I'm not exactly sure why he comes back, but I strongly suspect it has to do with the aforementioned drug deal. After a brief period of yelling (outside of course) they all retreat to within the confines of the house and we return to peace in the neighbourhood. But once again I must stress how these are not normal people. The peace is again broken by an interesting turn of events. Now it appears as though the woman wants the man gone out of the house. In typical fashion, he hurls items from his battered old jeep (including items off the roof) into the yard, at least some of which sound quite heavy and fragile. During this time she yells at him "they'll never believe you, and you'll never get out of the remand centre," "you are not allowed to come back into this house... don't terrorize me!" and "you know what?? You've got NOTHING! That's what you ended up with, NOTHING! So if you think you've won a victory, little man..." Eventually she takes off in the jeep leaving him to pack his belongings into the another jeep (which had resided at their place for a few days).

One would think this would be where it ends, but, alas, no. She eventually returns to complain about having the sum of $4 in her bank account (and presumably to her name) after "somebody got into it last week." They both return to the house and he continues packing, but the yelling continues. As the guy (and the two new people) prepare to leave, it seems that the dispute finally reaches critical mass after he proceeds to dump out a flower pot on the deck and she calls the police. Apparently they like being screamed at as much as the entire neighbourhood does because I can clearly hear her side of the conversation over 50 ft away even though she stands inside her own doorway (and the doorway is not facing me). Shortly thereafter he sprints from his vehicle to her doorway causing her to scream and slam the door. Thereafter he stays outside and proceeds to assemble 3 bicycles for him and his entourage to cruise around the neighbourhood on (for some unknown reason). A while later, the police FINALLY arrive (after like an hour, great response time) and, so my utter surprise, their teenaged son emerges from the house to give a report. Unbelievably, it appears as though he had been subjected to this entire 5+ hour ordeal. The drama finally ends when the woman leaves for the police station and the crazy guy and his entourage finally depart in the second vehicle... but not before almost over revving it and causing some serious engine damage.

Now that this ordeal is over, my only question is "when will it all happen again?" It's not like he burns stuff just once and then never does it again. It's not like he just does body work on his car one time at 12am and then never does it again. Sadly, this is doomed to happen again (and possibly again and again), but hopefully it won't disrupt my Saturday again next time.

Today's UV index is -2147483647

2006-06-07T18:45:00.000-06:00

I once again find myself south of the border this week, in a place where I vowed I would never be caught dead in the summer: Arizona. Words can't quite explain the shock one feels when stepping onto a plane in mild 22 degree weather and stepping off into a 42 degree blast furnace of death. I suppose the best way to describe it is somewhere between that feeling you get when you open an oven to peek inside at the cooking contents; a hot blast of air that makes you recoil in fear of something being singed, and the feeling you get in the dead of winter when you leave the defrost on in your car for 2+ hours while wearing your full parka. Both induce feelings of "too hot," much the same as does the desert.

Strangely enough, I think I'm starting to get used to the temperature. The past few days have been relatively moderate at 36 degrees, and if one anticipates these temperatures they seem to be less harsh. Of course, I confine myself to an air conditioned room 99.9% of the time, so dealing with the heat isn't as big of a problem as I imagine it to be.

Things will return to normal again upon my return to Edmonton in one week's time. There is one important thing this place has going for it: no bugs. I expect to be assaulted by legions of mosquitoes upon my return next week. Given that there is no water of any kind whatsoever here, mosquitoes would find it very difficult to exist in such a harsh environment (much like everything else here). But lush, moist Edmonton has no such natural defense. I guess I'll be holed up inside in either place.

Hopping the pond

2006-04-07T03:31:00.000-06:00

It has finally come to pass; I have escaped the invisible bonds of this continent. Today I find myself in the foreign landscape of northern Italy. I've wondered about such a trip for a great many years and in some ways it is very much like I expected it to be. The one thing that I was ill prepared for, surprisingly, is the language barrier and how amazingly easy it is to work around. My knowledge of Italian is limited to a few key words and phrases (plus any cognates fortuitously shared with English), but often I can get gist of what people are saying by placing myself in their situation and thinking about what I might be asking someone like me. Then again, any long sentences are beyond well beyond my grasp. This makes me wonder what it would be like here if I could actually interact with people in a more meaningful way. Perhaps I should learn Italian and find out.

In many respects, Italy is quite different from home. Although Trento, the place I'm staying in, purportedly has approx 100,000 residents, one would be hard pressed to believe it is anywhere near that big. At all times of the day, people can be found walking around downtown as if we were in some sort of major North American city. The power runs at 220V, which isn't all that problematic except that it runs at 50Hz instead of 60Hz as in North America. The direct consequence of this is that the TV is painful to watch at times. One can easily detect a flicker in most scenes and some scenes are almost enough to make your retinas bleed.

I'll be home again in a few short days. The only question now is "When will I return?"

Spring has arrived

2006-03-24T01:17:00.000-07:00

Despite the foot of snow on the ground recently deposited by the last remnants of winter, I officially declare that spring has arrived in Edmonton. Not that I'm an authority on such matters, but surely I must be at least as good as some overgrown rat unceremoniously wrenched from its cozy hibernation to either see or not see its shadow. And with our newfound spring comes the promise of warmer weather, the melting of all snow, and a resurgence of potholes on our fair streets.

Our recent snowstorm has finally given purpose to the 4x4 vehicle purchased to survive the harsh climate that is an Edmonton winter. Up until this point in time there had been so little snow that a hamster in a hamster ball could easily navigate most of the roadways (should it be able to avoid potholes). But I was finally vindicated in my selection of vehicle last weekend when enough snow dropped to strand numerous lesser vehicles, thus causing a collective howl to issue forth from the residents of Edmonton for residential snow removal, etc. There's something emasculating about powering through piles of snow with the full power and weight of a vehicle driving all four wheels. Stranded cars fruitlessly spin their tires, bleating like trapped animals as I effortlessly cruise past. And I just know that if I had my previous vehicle here with me, I would be just like them.

Of course, one might be quick to point out that the total number of days of the year actually requiring power to all four wheels numbers in the single digits, hardly justifying the purchase of a more expensive and less efficient 4x4 vehicle. To these people I would say, "yes, but you can't power through the snow with anything less, now can you?" Besides, I moved a couch once, so that balances it all out, doesn't it? I almost find myself wishing we get another dump of snow like that so I can go out again and tear up the snow-covered streets for a few more days. Only time will tell if winter is really done with us for the year.

Southern exposure

2006-02-28T14:30:00.000-07:00

Once again I have returned to the parched and sun-scorched south where winter is seldom seen. The differences between Tucson and Edmonton are nearly immeasurable; virtually nothing is the same. Outside my window grows an orange tree, impossible to grow outdoors nearly anywhere in Canada. The heat from the sun is as strong here in February as it is in Edmonton in the middle of summer. Because of all this, I can't help but feel out of place.

Nowhere are the differences between Arizona and Edmonton more striking than in the Grand Canyon (pictured above). This great gash torn across the landscape by the forces of water alone is truly one of wonders of the Earth. Sure, Alberta has the badlands, but they pale in comparison to a one-mile deep carved into otherwise flat desert. Interestingly enough, formations within the canyon are often referred to as "mountains," a strange concept given that none rise significantly above the level of the surrounding rim. However, given that the canyon is more than a few miles wide at any given point, these "mountains" do appear as actual mountains within the canyon. Perhaps I will one day return to the canyon and descend to the level of the river and view these mountains from their base rather than their peak.

The return to blogging

2006-02-18T13:57:00.000-07:00

It has been a while since I last posted but, given the vacuous void that is winter in Alberta, this shouldn't come as much of a surprise. Usually around this time of year we find ourselves cowering in our houses, afraid to venture forth into the fury of the elements outside, save for trips that are absolutely necessary. Call it a sort of hibernation. But this year is somewhat different...

Ever since we sucker punched Old Man Winter in the groin sometime last November and sent him packing, things have been a lot better than usual. He was last seen heading in the direction of Winnipeg and, although we all knew in the back of our mind that he'd be back, we were glad to see him go. But we all knew he wouldn't be happy about that cheap shot, and sooner or later he would be back, and back with a vengeance. And so it was that earlier this week he came back with frozen fury in his eyes and a bitter wind in his wake.

The return of Old Man Winter can only mean two things: 1) Those groundhogs lied to us, and 2) it's time to flee or be completely annihilated. We're not conditioned for this sort of thing after that "winter" we had while Old Man Winter was off playing VLTs with his "prosperity rebate." I, for one, will be making a run for the border at the end of this week, but I doubt Old Man Winter will let that one slide. I have a feeling he'll chase us to the extent of his powers, but where we're going Old Man Winter isn't welcome. Where we're going, Old Man Winter dares not venture, for he will find no comfort in the hot, dry, deserts of Arizona.

I figure I'll hide out there for a couple of weeks to see if Old Man Winter finally gives up for the season and returns to wherever it is he goes during "summer." Besides, a change of scenery is always nice and visiting Arizona when it's not 1,000,000 °C is probably a good idea.

Deal or No Deal? It's all about the expected value

2005-12-24T16:13:00.000-07:00

Finally, somebody has come up with a game show in which skill is not a factor at all. Tired of watching those shows like Jeopardy or Who Wants to be a Millionaire? Sick of seeing the human tome of all knowledge plow through questions like a freight train through a cardboard box? Then Deal or No Deal is the game show for you.

The game is about as basic as one can get, and it's all about simple statistics. The premise of the game is simple: from a selection of 26 cases, each containing a dollar value, select one case to hold onto while progressively eliminating the remaining cases. Between eliminations, the player will be offered money to "sell" the case before knowing what monetary value the case contained. The question at each step is: do I sell the case or do I continue eliminating? Successive eliminations give a better idea of what your case may contain, but are in danger of eliminating high-value cases, thereby reducing the amount of money being offered to buy your case.

So how do you decide whether or not to sell your case? Simply put, the entire game is just one big expected value calculation. For those not familiar with mathematics/statistics, expected value (EV) is simply the value you expect to see when you have an event that could turn out in more than one possible way. In this case, EV is the monetary value you can expect your case to have. The catch with EV is that it only makes sense over many attempts at playing this game, and so each attempt will vary, but the average of all attempts should be near the expected value. In other words, you might expect to get $131,500 dollars if you select one of the 26 cases at random and then eliminate all others, but your case still might only contain $0.01 (one cent). If you play over and over again, the average of all attempts should work out to be around $131,500 per time.

The expected value calculation is shown below (WARNING: math ahead).
All the equation says is that the expected value is the probability of picking each case multiplied by the monetary value of that case, summed over all possible cases. Because the cases are all identical and people are assumed to be picking at random, the expected value is simply the average of all the monetary values of the remaining cases.

The expected value of choosing a single case and going with it is an amazing $131,477.54. This means that if every contestant did this, the average of their winnings would be about $130,000 or so. By eliminating cases with low value, one can effectively drive the expected value up. For example, by eliminating the $0.01 case, the expected value becomes $136,736.64, a gain of over $5000. Of course, removing high-valued entries will make the expected value drop accordingly.

To play the game in smart manner, a player should compare the offer made to "buy" the case with the expected value of the remaining cases (including their personal case). If the offer matches or exceeds the EV, the player is essentially gambling money to continue on in the game. The EV is what you expect your case to have, so if you decline an offer giving you more money, you're giving that money away in the hopes that your case has more than what you expect it to have. Conversely, if the offer is lower than your EV, taking the offer would mean "giving up" some money because you expect your case to have more than what they offer.

Of course, people are seldom smart players. They rely on "feelings" and flawed notions of probability, often with the assistance of family members and acquaintances who shout their opinions of what to do and which case to select at the over-stressed contestant. Throw in Howie Mandel, with his sinister grin on his cueball bald head, egging the contestants on, and you end up with one surreal experience. I have yet to see a contestant whip out a calculator to see what actually could happen, and most tend to go on tilt and blame their families after they unfortunately eliminate the $1,000,000 case that all the family were convinced contained the $0.01.

The real question that bothers me is "do the controllers of the game know the value of the case selected by the contestant?" If so, it should affect the value they offer to buy the contestant's case. I'll have to have a closer look next time to see how far off the offers are from the EV.

Thus ends the math lesson for today. Merry Christmas!

Festivus has arrived

2005-12-23T13:01:00.000-07:00

Festivus is upon us again, which means it's time to set up the Festivus pole and begin the airing of the grievances. Of course, I don't actually celebrate Festivus, but I think it's a great idea. After all, Christmas has become "The Holidays" in recent years (at least according to anybody wanting to be politically correct), so why not just replace the entire thing with some neutral holiday like Festivus?

Aside from the neutrality of the holiday, Festivus represents the epitome of the Seinfeld series. The Festivus episode is a must-see television event that represents both the humour and general insanity of the series as a whole. Where does one even come up with such a well-defined, yet utterly inexplicable, holiday like Festivus? Making it the central point of an entire half-hour episode of a comedy series about nothing takes some talent. I lament the loss of that series, but I suppose it's impossible to keep cranking out episodes of that quality ad infinitum.

Happy Festivus.

The colour of road salt

2005-12-03T00:11:00.000-07:00

Imagine this: you live in a place where "winter" consists of maybe one night below freezing all year, and one day you see the above pictured car parked at a gas station. What do you think?

Apparently you stare in amazement and wonder at what kind of conditions might cause such filth (as we encountered at a gas station in Eloy, AZ). Or, if you happen to be a flag man at the Hoover Dam, you might actually ask if that was, in fact, road salt. To those of us living in the winter climates, seeing a car in such a state is not only less than amazing, it's commonplace. But in a place where winter is as foreign a concept as a fire ban in Edmonton, a car covered in road salt becomes a spectacle. We couldn't wait to wash the car to avoid the critical stares of those whose vehicles never suffer the shame of grime. When it rarely rains or snows, it's not difficult to keep your vehicle sparkling clean.

The journey to Arizona, Part 3: Trip completed

2005-11-30T11:09:00.000-07:00

Although I'm a few days late in posting this, we have made it to Tucson. We finally caught a break and had good weather through the desert (no snow, who would have thought?). There's nothing like driving through the desert to give you the idea that you're in the middle of nowhere. And the particular highway we took (Hwy 93 from Vegas to Kingman and Hwy 60 from Kingman to Phoenix) had next to nothing on it. Just a straight line cut through the desert bush for mile after mile. Here's an idea of what it looks like, with giant cacti and all:

Now all that remains is for me to return home, but I must admit that I don't particularly want to. The weather forecast says it's around -12°C with a windchill of -20°C. I think all the snowbirds that live down here might be on to something.

The journey to Arizona, part 2: what lives inside the fridge

2005-11-27T23:44:00.000-07:00

Today I find myself in the town of St. George, UT just outside the Utah/Nevada/Arizona border on the way to Las Vegas. We made good time today as the weather turned out to be much better than predicted. We are now within striking distance of Tucson, and we will arrive there sometime tomorrow (barring any further weather calamities). Here's Idaho just before we left:

Now for the second part of my posting. We arrived here in St. George without prior reservations and so we were willing to stay just about anywhere (anywhere cheap that offers free high speed internet, that is). Unfortunately, it seems that cheap does not always equate to good (who would have thought?). In short, the place we're staying at scares me. But what scares me most of all is the fridge. Normally, an in-suite fridge is a nice feature. Some might even say an essential feature. And so, upon seeing this fridge, I decided to take a peek to see if it was adequately cool for my purposes. Immediately upon opening the door, I was sucker-punched by the most awful odour ever to exist on the face of this earth. It smelled, ladies and gentlemen, like hot death.

You know the likely scenario: a family sets out across America to a new home in the desert and brings along their pet hamster. In the hustle and bustle of the move, dear old Cuddles is accidentally forgotten in the car during lunch in the hot desert sun. By the time the family returns, Cuddles is quite dead. They stop here in this room for the night and are forced to bring Cuddles in lest he be left to further decompose in the vehicle overnight. The in-suite fridge is a perfect way to keep him from smelling up the car before they can transport him somewhere for proper burial. Unfortunately, Cuddles body is forgotten in the fridge upon their departure and there he stays until the fridge malfunctions at some point in time and actually *heats up* rather than cools off. Add a few months, and we arrive at where I currently find myself.

Presumably, the cleaning staff discovered the source of this stench at some point in time, but I'm afraid that the evil that resides in that fridge can never be purified. In fact, I believe it may be the spirit of Cuddles come back to exact revenge on those for his agonizing death in that hot car. Whatever it is, it exists beyond this world. And like Pandora's Box, once that putrid odour has escaped, there's no putting it back in. Let me tell you I couldn't close that door fast enough. For now I will keep my distance from the fridge and hope that it can contain that foul corruption for one more night.

The journey to Arizona part 1

2005-11-26T23:52:00.000-07:00

The inevitable has finally come to pass; Lesley is on her way to Arizona. Because she's driving down, I volunteered to go with to ease the burden of driving for 3000 km (even if it is mostly to keep her company).

The original plan was to drive from Edmonton to Lethbridge on day 1, from Lethbridge to Pocatello, ID on day 2, from Pocatello to Page, AZ on day 3, and from Page to Tucson on the final day of the trip. Unfortunately, after weeks of unseasonably good weather, it seems that the weather has decided to change precisely when we decide to begin driving. And by change, I mean change for the worse; much worse.

As a result, we have had to modify the original plan. Instead of stopping in Lethbridge the first day, we decided to press on as far into Montana as we could possibly get before being stopped by either the weather or exhaustion. This point turned out to be Helena. The weather then moved in today and managed to limit our progress to Pocatello, the original stop for today. We should have been able to go much further, but the weather is so amazingly bad that we could only occasionally drive faster than 60 kph on the highway. Below if a photo of what the highway looked like just outside of Butte, MT (and for much of Montana from Helena to the Idaho border). I think a sanding truck might have helped in this situation.

Now we somehow have to make our way through Utah under heavy snowfall advisories within the next day in order for us to reach Tucson the following day. Instead of going through Page (taking us over some mountain ranges), we will likely go through Las Vegas and attempt to drive in the desert as much as possible. With a little bit of luck we may be able to get far enough into Utah so that Tucson is within a reasonable distance. I guess we find out tomorrow.

Opening the door at 4500 ft

2005-11-13T17:11:00.000-07:00

Many of my blog entries seem to revolve around flying, even though I'm never the one actually piloting the aircraft. This changed yesterday as I finally took control of the aircraft for more than 10 seconds. I flew it for about 15 minutes in air as smooth as silk, and I realized that it's really not that different from driving a car (at least under ideal circumstances). Sure, there are few more directions that the plane goes in (up/down, side to side, banking left and right), but keeping it on course and at altitude is pretty much the same procedure as driving on the road: constant slight corrections here and there to stay on course.

Of course, these trips aren't without their minor moments of amusement. It seems that every time we fly, the aircraft suffers some sort of malfunction. It's always something minor, and sometimes it's transient, but it seems to be there none the less. This time the landing light didn't work... at all. Apparently aviation rules state that landings without a light are fine so long as there are no passengers. If there are passengers then landing without lights is disallowed. I'm not exactly sure why. Good thing it wasn't completely dark when we came in.

Another amusing moment came when Aaron realized his door wasn't closed. In an automobile this is a minor annoyance that usually results in a light illuminating on the dash and some amount of wind noise from the unsealed door. But at 4500 ft with a ground temperature less than zero, this results in the chilling of anything near the resulting draft (including any part of your body that is unfortunate enough to be close by). I will leave it to the reader to imagine what it would be like to watch somebody flying at over 2000 ft off the ground at 150 kph casually open and close their door as if they were stopped at a light on a residential street.

Downtown flyby

2005-10-30T02:05:00.000-07:00

This is Bell Tower in downtown Edmonton as few people get to see it: from 500 ft off the ground. Even pilots flying private aircraft are restricted from flying below 1000 ft AGL (Above Ground Level), but we here in Edmonton are lucky because downtown is very near the City Centre airport and happens to be on the landing path for one of the runways. The alarming thing is, and it can be seen in the above image, Bell Tower is a tall building. About 425 ft tall. That means if we flew directly over top of it, there would only be 75 ft of air between the bottom of our plane and the top of Bell Tower (about the height of a 6 story building). As the picture shows, we are not very far from Bell Tower while going past (through?) downtown, so there's not much room for error.

In fact, a few weeks ago we flew a night flight following a similar path through downtown, only this time we were 600 ft above the ground and instead of flying past buildings we flew directly over them. It's not a comforting sight to look out your window to see what appears to be the top of a building skimming the landing gear of your aircraft. Still, there's something fun about flying this close to tall buildings. It seems like nowhere else in the world would let you get this close to major buildings. And you have to wonder what the people in the upper floors of Bell Tower were thinking as they looked out their window to see us zipping past at almost eye level.

In the concrete jungle, insanity reigns supreme

2005-10-29T01:14:00.000-06:00

Apparently Edmonton is known for having the worst drivers in Canada. Until a few weeks ago, I was sure this must be in error. Surely the drivers out there, with whom I share the road on a daily basis, can't be all that bad. They seemed so normal, none driving too close to me or in what I thought was a wreckless manner.

But that all changed when I got the new truck. A truck in this city, it seems, is synonymous with slow-moving, inattentive driving. Or at least I presume it is, given the treatment I receive from fellow drivers these days. No matter what speed I go, it just isn't fast enough. Speed limit? Nope, that's not nearly fast enough. Nobody in their right mind does that. Add 10 kph to the limit? That's for the old ladies and soccer moms barking into their cell phones while trying to placate their restless children and pets fighting for supreme dominance of the back seat. How about 20 kph over? This is usually fast enough for most people to travel, but because I'm driving a truck I'm deemed to be "too slow" and hence will be passed at even this speed. It's almost entertaing to watch people flog their aging, oil-cloud spewing junkers just to pass my "slow" truck.

And the insanity doesn't end there. Say you need to enter a turning lane during your daily commute. Should the person following you need the same turn lane, they won't hesitate to ride your bumper until the very start of that lane, and then gun it in an attempt to pass you so that they have the honour of being the first to turn. Never mind that I need that lane to make my turn and my signal light was clearly indicating that, or that if I wasn't paying attention to such a crazy maneuver I might just lane change into your tiny Toyota Echo.

In the event that they don't manage to beat me to the turn lane, I can be assured that the moment they get a chance to pass me, I will be cut off. I guess that "hole" I leave between myself and the vehicle ahead (otherwise known as "a safe distance") is just too damn inviting for every idiot out looking to get to where they're going 0.2 seconds sooner.

The odd thing is that I hardly noticed any of this when driving my former sporty car. It's almost as if drivers are consciously or subconsciously disrespectful of my vehicle. Or maybe I make myself an inviting target by leaving extra distances and slowing down more for corners because I now drive a larger and heavier vehicle. It's the law of the wild out there, and the moment you exhibit any sort of weakness, you're as good as dead.

Vancouver Island Photos

2005-10-21T00:49:00.000-06:00

The pictures I took while on Vancouver Island in early October are here. Commentary and panoramas to follow shortly.

The new vehicle

2005-10-13T01:45:00.000-06:00

Although I've had it for a few days now, I haven't had a chance to post the fact that we have a new vehicle now. We decided to go with the Nissan Frontier that comes in a "basic" trim level (basic in the sense that most of the features that are standard were optional just a few years ago) and four-wheel drive. The Frontier turned out to have the best stats for off-roading, power, and all-importantly price.

Not that I'm going to do a lot of off-roading with it, but roads here have a tendency to take on an off-road quality during the winter (or at the very least the distinction between on-road and off-road becomes very hazy in winter). The roads aren't that good to begin with; repairs around here seem to be patches to patches to patches on the road, and when that fails simply oil and gravel the entire thing until it's flat. At least now I won't have to cringe every time I hit a pothole or raised/sunken manhole in the street (and there are a lot of them), or have to inch my way down parking lot approaches onto the street to ensure that I don't tear the front bumper from the vehicle.

Over the weekend I took it down to a local river valley park for a few pictures. Here's what it looks like:

To the coast and back

2005-10-10T00:45:00.000-06:00

I'm finally back from a week-long trip to Vancouver and Vancouver Island. I was out there primarily for HLT/EMNLP 2005, but Lesley and I decided to take short vacation to Ucluelet on Vancouver Island to once again see the coast and the temperate rainforest.

Here are the two best pictures (IMO) that I took on the island:

While on the island we:

Saw a thunderstorm over the water while at the Wickaninnish restaurant at night. If you think an ordinary thunderstorm is something to see, try one where you have a 180 degree unobstructed field of view.
Experienced the most torrential downpour at night that I have ever seen. While departing the Wickaninnish restaurant we encountered the aforementioned thunderstorm. In the pitch black with high beams I was only able to drive at 30 km/h, and even then I could only see 10 ft in front of the car at best because of the deluge of water. I have always wondered what a thunderstorm in a high-humidity environment like Vancouver Island would be like; now I know.
Decided to climb on rocks at low tide very late in the day (looking for tidal pools). So late, in fact, that when trying to return we found it to be rather dark. And seaweed-covered rocks and darkness don't mix well. We survived without any injuries, but I have no idea how.
Climbed lots of stairs on various walks to beaches and through rainforest. The nice thing about coming from a higher altitude to sea level is that you get a lot more energy. You can climb a lot of stairs without even breaking a sweat, all the while knowing that you'd never be able to do that back home.

I wonder which coast I will be off to next?

Where there's smoke, there's Edmonton

2005-09-27T23:40:00.000-06:00

Well, not quite, but you'd never know it living here. It seems like every time I step outside in the evening, or every time I'm on the road, someone, somewhere is burning something or other.

Let's first start with the people in neighbourhoods around the city (or maybe just mine) who think a camp fire in their backyard is the greatest idea ever conceived. What could be better than getting some firewood (or in the case of my neighbour, your cardboard and paper recycling) and firing up the old backyard firepit for a couple hours in the evening. Except that this isn't some remote hick town in the middle of the northern bush; it's a city of a million people. That smoke from your backyard campfire has to go somewhere. It doesn't just disappear. And quite often the stinking cloud of pollution drifts across wide swathes of residential neighbourhood choking the poor souls who live there.

This pollution doesn't end at home. Some people choose to take their smoke-producing abilities onto the road with them. Without fail, every time I take a trip of more than a few minutes in duration I will be stuck behind some vehicle that is obviously on the verge of a catastrophic engine failure. The evidence of this comes from the thick cloud of putrid blue smoke emitted from the tailpipes of these mobile junk heaps. Very often the vehicle itself looks to be mere weeks from total structural failure, but sometimes what appears to be a perfectly fit vehicle seems to be running on a fuel mixture of crude oil and plastic. Taxi cabs, with their monstrous Crown Victorias, seem to be the primary example of this as I can only imagine what kind of flogging those vehicles take during the course of a normal day. The purple haze trailing these vehicles hangs in the air like vapour on a cold winter morning and no matter how hard I try I can't seem to avoid sucking these fumes up into my vehicle to choke on for a few kilometers.

But wait a second, isn't this a modern major Canadian city? Shouldn't we have, I don't know, laws against burning pretty much whatever you want in your backyard/motor vehicle engine? Apparently not. Apparently backyard fires and oil-burning junkers don't violate any laws whatsoever. I can only hope that those responsible for these camp fires accidentally burn down something of theirs they happen to like and the drivers of these pollution-factories find themselves stranded in the bitter cold and late for an important meeting when their tired vehicle finally issues its final puff of smoke.

Searching for a new vehicle

2005-09-21T23:59:00.000-06:00

Over the past few weeks, Lesley and I have been looking at getting a new vehicle. Lesley plans to take my car down to Arizona with her later this fall, and so I need something more Edmonton-appropriate for around here. And because a sports car is not Edmonton-appropriate, we might as well maximize the utility and get a truck.

Now the thing about trucks is that the good ones seem to retain their value. In fact, they retain their value so well that even three to four year old vehicles with 60,000+ kilometers are fetching a mere $7000 below the price of a brand new vehicle. In light of such conditions we have decided to purchase a new vehicle given that it appears to be a sellers' market for used vehicles and because we might end up with somebody's rat-bagged lemon.

Which brings me to the point of this blog entry. When I bought my existing vehicle (an import), the comparable domestic vehicles were far and away inferior to it. I mean, it was no comparison at all. The domestic cars looked like they were designed by a monkey; and a very stupid monkey at that. During that time I wondered "How can the domestic automobile manufacturers make any money at all?" At the time I surmised that it must be due to truck and SUV sales, a market I presumed had higher customer interest and higher margins and thus was more profitable for domestic manufacturers. Surely they make a better product in this, their core market.

But no, the sad truth is they do not. At least not for the so-called "mid-size" truck market. The two import trucks, made by Toyota and Nissan, are superior to domestic midsize trucks in every way imaginable except for price. So how then do the domestic manufacturers make their money? Are they confined to only the expensive truck and SUV market? Is there some magic unseen market out there remains unseen?

Lesley suggests that perhaps there is. Consider, for a moment, fleet vehicles. In any rental company or any large fleet I have ever seen, I have very rarely (possibly never) seen import vehicles used in substantial numbers. Perhaps it is the sale of fleet vehicles that really drives the domestic companies. Given that the average consumer has no need of an entire fleet of identical or nearly-identical vehicles, should the average customer want to buy from a company whose primary business model is selling tons of carbon-copy vehicles for dirt cheap? I think not. The fleet-vehicles, I believe, are inappropriate for most individual consumers, and the non-fleet vehicles seem to exist solely because another manufacturer(s) would completely dominate a portion of the market if they did not.

In short, unless something drastic happens with domestic vehicles, they are off my list of future consideration forever. No amount of grad rebates, points, "money," cash back, employee family pricing, 0% financing, or any of the countless other transparent scams can ever make up for the fact that the domestic manufacturers make complete and utter junk. Domestic manufacturers... you suck.

Third time flying

2005-09-18T23:00:00.000-06:00

I went flying yet again this weekend, this time from Edmonton to Rocky Mountain House (86 nautical miles distant). It was a bit longer than the previous flights; I'm slowly working my way up to going somewhere interesting. According to Aaron (the pilot), I have logged almost 6 hours in the plane so far with him.

On the way back I tried my hand at the controls of the plane. If Microsoft Flight Simulator 95 has taught me anything it's that the controls of this plane would be so touchy that so much as sneezing will cause you to enter a spiral dive ending in certain death (except that you can't die in Flight Sim). Nothing could be farther from the truth, and the controls are actually a lot less sensitive than I had anticipated. Also during my brief moment in control of the aircraft I was told to watch my altitude. Altitude? There's something I haven't ever had to watch in a vehicle before. You generally don't worry about altitude in a automobile, and if you're one of the few people who do then you're probably also quite concerned about the condition of your suspension system. Perhaps next time I'll take the controls longer and see if I can keep the aircraft from ending up nose first in some farmer's field.

Also, Google Earth finally has high-res photos of my house! In the winter! Now everybody can see what a frozen wasteland Edmonton is in the dead of winter.

The calm before the... calm

2005-09-15T00:42:00.000-06:00

It has been surprisingly quiet around here for the last little while, and I'm beginning to wonder if this is the calm before the storm or just an ongoing lull. Fall has come on pretty fast, and the days are becoming increasingly short. I'm hoping for something to happen here soon to break the monotony. There are a few things on the horizon, but I'll have to wait and see if they pan out. It seemed like there was never a dull moment in California; too bad I'm not there right now.

Hopefully more in a few days.

Thus ends summer

2005-09-05T23:10:00.000-06:00

It's September now, and in Edmonton that can only mean one thing: winter has arrived. Although the snow isn't flying yet, it's only a matter of time before the temperature hits -40°C (which also happens to be -40°F). The season change is abrupt here, and I expect snow by the end of October. On the plus side, it's time to get back to a work schedule, so hopefully I'll get more done during my day. California is just a distant memory now, but I'm sure I'll be pining for it when I'm shoveling snow in the freezing dark come December.

In other news, I went for a short flight with Aaron to Tofield on Saturday. The original intended destination was Lethbridge, but due to some surprisingly drastic adjustments to the weather forecast, those plans were unfortunately scrapped. We then decided to fly to Vegreville, but once again our plans were thwarted by the weather. So we settled on a few circuits at nearby Tofield and returned before 10:30 am.

Telus Idol Part Deux

2005-08-25T01:32:00.000-06:00

Earlier this week a package arrived at my house wrapped in a silver envelope. As I expected, it contained no return address. As it turns out, there is more to the whole Telus Idol story than I originally thought. The videotape contained within the package contains the full account of Telus Idol. I eagerly popped it in the VCR (who owns those anymore?) and had a look.

I must say that I was initially somewhat disappointed. You see, I had expected something scandalous to be contained on this tape. Something so scandalous that it would make one wonder just what kind of insane raging psychopaths were at the helm over at Telus. Unfortunately this wasn't to be. In fact, the full content of Telus Idol actually makes it seem more tame than the version easily found on the net. The missing minutes water down the concentration of controversy contained within public version; it seems more like "regular" company entertainment with the additional acts. I found myself somewhat bored while watching the tape.

After I finished viewing the video, I began thinking about what I had seen. And the more I thought about it, the more I began to wonder if what I had seen really is as benign as I had thought upon my initial viewing. For example, there is one portion that is contained in both the short and long versions in which one of the female judges is absent from the judging panel. A replacement judge takes her place and explains that the missing judge couldn't be there because of a conference call... at 12 am. Shortly after this, a scene absent from the short version plays in which the camera tracks down what appears to be a basement hallway ending up in what is presumably the absent judge bound to a chair and gagged. All the while the song "Stuck in the Middle With You" plays. For those who have seen Reservoir Dogs, this is a dead giveaway for a comparable scene in that movie. I didn't think much of it initially, but then I began to wonder exactly why somebody would want to draw a parallel with that scene from that movie. As I recall, the movie scene has a police officer bound to a chair and gagged while he is tortured with a knife (resulting in the loss of an ear), doused with gasoline, almost set ablaze, and ultimately shot and killed. So am I to assume that the Telus Idol scene is implying that the judge will be tortured and killed in the basement of some building? Clearly whoever thought of this sequence didn't think it through well enough.

Aside from the bound and gagged scene, there are other indications that things aren't quite right at this party. If you recall Canadian or American Idol, they have people who try out but fail spectacularly. In an attempt to mimic the show, Telus Idol also has rejects. Only these rejects must (I hope) know they're bad. They seem to be trying to have fun but there are no kind words for their efforts. I'm sure they'll be the first to volunteer next time somebody higher up suggests they do something for fun. One of the groups missing from the short version is a group of three men dressed as women and performing as the Temptations. As you might imagine, this was not well received by the judges.

The competition ends exactly as one would expect it to. A group of two old white executive hacks whose sole talent seems to be the ability to dance like monkeys being electrocuted while some unseen voice sings for them win the coveted title of Telus Idol, beating out people lower down the food chain with infinitely more talent. The way of the world, I suppose, but I have to wonder once again... Why film this? As far as I can tell, there is absolutely no job-related value for anybody watching this video at a later time. I guess the old adage is true: give a man enough rope and he'll hang himself with it.

How not to bribe somebody

2005-08-19T23:42:00.000-06:00

The Telus strike/lockout (as I talked about in this post) wears on, and it seems that the absurdity of it all can only increase with time. For example, this week I heard a rumour that managers at Telus receive a bonus of $2500 for each union employee they entice back to work. That's right, the manager gets the money. Now, I'm not an expert at bribing people (or otherwise motivating them with monetary gain), but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to offer the money to the person you want to cross the line. After all, these people are the ones taking all the risk. They're the ones who have to cross the line and have to face their fellow workers to do it. What do they get for this? Not a $2500 bonus, apparently.

Perhaps I'm a bit naive about how the whole bargaining process works. Perhaps it's immoral or even illegal to bribe employees to return to work. But if I were an employee thinking of returning to work, or maybe even one that already has, I'd be seriously considering hitting my manager up for some of that $2500 "gift". At least that way the bribe will work like it's supposed to.

Dogbert on Phishing

2005-08-14T12:13:00.000-06:00

The crazy neighbours

2005-08-07T19:30:00.000-06:00

Things are slow around here lately, so I've been reflecting on the activities of my crazy neighbours over the past little while. They are, without a doubt, completely insane. But I recall hearing that the distance between insanity and genius is measured only by success. Bearing this in mind, I think the crazy neighbours might be geniuses after all. They have proven or are close to proving the following:

The chromatic number (the minimum number of colours such that no touching pieces have the same colour) of a Jeep Cherokee is >= 3.
The best way to camouflage a derelict hot tub is to use a spruce tree.
Your neighbours' opinion of you is inversely proportional to the size and duration of your backyard bonfire.
Your neighbours' opinion of you is inversely proportional to the time you leave it unattended.
The best way to communicate with a family member from across the yard is to scream at them.
Strapping homemade furniture to the roof of your vehicle and then driving around is a sound marketing policy.
A driveway is defined by where you park your vehicle, not by where there is pavement as was previously thought.
Empty parking spaces on your property are best utilized when occupied by a vehicle. If necessary, purchase a vehicle that will never run again to occupy these spaces.
The only tools needed for any mechanical repair to a motor vehicle are 1) an adjustable wrench, and 2) WD-40. Of the two, the WD-40 is of greater importance.
Any large dent suffered by a vehicle can be repaired by transforming it into many tiny dents with a small hammer. For proof, consider a golf ball. It is still round, yet has many small dents. This transformation may require a few days of work.
Automotive paint shops are overpriced. You can get the same quality work if you do it yourself in your garage. This should take at most one night in total, and will require at most one coat of paint.

Given all of the above, they should easily be able to publish a few academic papers and books on various subjects. And I'm sure they're not done yet. I just have to sit back and wait to see what they have in store for us over the next couple of months.

Telus drops the ball

2005-07-28T01:09:00.000-06:00

The big story around western Canada these days involves the Telus (a local telco) strike/lockout. Such an event is far from unheard of (well, perhaps moreso in Alberta than in BC), but what has captured the attention of the media is the decision by Telus to block the access of their customers to a particular pro-union website, Voices for Change. Although Telus representatives claim that the site was posting inappropriate and potentially harmful material, this amounts to nothing more than censorship on the part of Telus. I myself am a paying Telus customer and I have been blocked from accessing that site... or so they think. Thanks to Tor I may roam freely and anonymously with impunity.

Interestingly enough, the censored site does not seem to contain any of the potentially harmful or damaging material Telus representatives claim it does. Even more interesting is that it does contain information about something Telus executives would probably rather you not see: a video of Telus Idol.

For those of you unable or unwilling to locate a copy of this wonderful video, allow me to paraphrase its contents. Apparently (according to the VFC forum threads on Telus Idol), the video takes place during an executive/sales "team-building" retreat to Montreal. One of the events at this retreat is Telus Idol, an inferior facsimile of the better known American Idol or Canadian Idol television programs. Replacing the celebrity judges are a group Telus executives that can only be described as a collection of loud-mouthed twits and drunken boors. The video shows a few female "performers" singing on stage after which the primarily male "judges" evaluate their performance. Unfortunately, the evaluation is often based on what they look like, whether or not they're willing to accept the judges' room key, or just strings of random inappropriateness, depending on the level of drunkenness of the judge. To make fun of the French-Canadians among them (they are in Montreal after all), a faux French-Canadian judge is provided that seems to be trying a bit too hard to impersonate the speaking style of former Prime Minister Jean Cretien. The video concludes with the lot of them climbing on stage to dance with the band, which includes CEO Darren Entwistle dancing by himself and playing air-guitar (see the above image).

Did I mention this video is inappropriate on many levels? Or that they had a film crew record these proceedings? It's even edited to include more than one camera angle, which means they must have wanted it to be watched by somebody (but probably not me). After viewing this video, I have only three questions: 1) Who gave these retards liquor? 2) Why in the hell would you record this? and 3) Why would you ever let this see the light of day on the Internet?

So if anybody out there is wondering why there's a strike/lockout, maybe somebody should suggest to the Telus executives that they shut down these little "team-building" getaways and dry these fish out. I'll bet it'll save them millions. And if you have the time and bandwidth, be sure to find a copy of this on the 'Net somewhere. It's definitely worth watching.

From small to smaller

2005-07-22T01:27:00.000-06:00

This weekend I find myself in the place of my birth: Lethbridge, Alberta. Just three short weeks ago I was sitting in Los Altos, in an area with 7.1 million people and now here I am in a city two full orders of magnitude smaller. The difference between the Bay Area and Edmonton is subtle; it basically comes down to the overall size of the area. The Bay Area is just bigger than Edmonton, but it doesn't really feel any different (from an urbanization point of view). On the other hand, Lethbridge is completely different. Not only is it smaller still, it also lacks big city conveniences like, say, two lane roads or people who know how to drive the speed limit.

It's almost as if people here don't know they're in a city at all. But that's the way it has always been. It's like nobody planned Lethbridge, it just sort of appeared. The funny thing is that Lethbridge seemed like a fairly large place up until just a few years ago when I finally moved out and saw what things were really like. Everything has since been put into perspective...

California pictures posted

2005-07-18T21:49:00.000-06:00

The pictures of my three-month California "adventure" have been posted. They can be found here. I'll be adding some commentary to them over the coming weeks.

Passenger #1

2005-07-12T15:34:00.000-06:00

Earlier today I took Aaron up on his offer of being the first passenger he has ever taken on a flight. Normally I'm not a fan of flying, but the promise of actually being able to look out the front window for a change was just too much. We flew from the Edmonton City Centre airport to Camrose, did a touch-and-go, continued on to Wetaskiwin for a quick stop, and returned to the City Centre airport. In total the trip took about 2.5 hours.

The aircraft we took, a Cessna 152, is the definition of small. It reminded me of a cross between a bicycle with wings and one of those things people use to push their kids around (which looks like a cross between a wheelchair and a shopping cart with an aerodynamic front-end). There is barely enough room in there to fit two people across and no matter where you put your legs they're in the way of one or more of the flight controls. I was assured by Aaron that the engine is supposed to, in fact, sound like an overgrown lawnmower.

The flight itself was good. It was a morning flight to minimize the chances of turbulence and thunderstorms, both of which I hate flying in, near, or around. I'm sure I'll be heading into the sky with him again sooner or later, and maybe this time I'll even take control of the aircraft for a moment or two. If that happens, people had better look out below.

The photo above is my neighbourhood from the sky. I know which one is my house. Can you find it?

Google Earth feeds my map obsession

2005-07-08T16:44:00.000-06:00

Google Earth is, quite simply, a very interesting program. For those of you who haven't seen Google Earth, have a look at http://earth.google.com. It's basically a virtual globe of the earth over which an absolute ton of satellite imagery has been overloaded. You can find anything and everything on it, and it's a great way to waste countless hours. Want to see what Edmonton looks like? It's in there. Ever wondered what Iraq looks like? It's also in there. North Korea perhaps? Sure. There are even some high resolution images to be found.

Unfortunately, due to high demand (and because it got slashdotted), you can't actually go and download Google Earth anymore. Hopefully it comes back once Google adds more servers to handle the load. As for me, if you need me I'll be looking at North Korean aircraft...

Back home

2005-07-04T14:48:00.000-06:00

The travel is over and I find myself back in Edmonton resuming my everyday life. Google is but a distant memory for me now, even though I was just there a few days ago. It seems like I'm in a completely different world here; things just don't seem the same at all. At least I'll be able to get back to working on my thesis research full time.

The end of an era

2005-07-02T23:29:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was my last day at Google, and tomorrow I return home to Edmonton. Just a few days ago I was sitting at my chair in the Googleplex, and in less than 24 hours I'll be sitting in my living room. I don't savour the trip home, but I will be happy to get there. I wonder how much of a culture shock I'll be in for. Back to multi-colour money and one and two dollar coins. At least I'll have my beloved popcorn back :-)

Over 2200 miles

2005-06-30T22:44:00.000-06:00

The rental went back yesterday and it turns out I have put over 2200 miles on it since arriving here at the start of April. That's a lot of miles, especially when you consider what a beast that thing was. To tide me over for the remaining few days, I've loaned out a PT Cruiser. For some reason I never end up with the car I reserve. I'm forever getting upgraded (not that I'm complaining). In just three short days I'll be back in Edmonton living the usual life. Only a few things left to do here before I go...

My fowl ride

2005-06-25T01:40:00.000-06:00

For the past few months I have been driving a rental car around the bay area as a means of getting to and from work and entertainment, and let me say what a piece of work it is. I originally signed up for a "compact" car (i.e., Cavalier) and they managed to somehow "upgrade" me to a vehicle of inferior design. This vehicle is so special that it's not even fit for sale to the general public. Instead, it's exclusively sold as a fleet vehicle, thereby damning it to the pit of fleet vehicle hell for all of eternity.

The car is labeled as a Chevrolet Classic and externally appears to be some sort of modified Malibu. But it doesn't have a Malibu power train. No, GM thought it would be far better to give it the power of a Cavalier. Who's going to need Malibu power in a rental car, right? It's not like they'll have to merge on a highway or go up a hill or anything. They also must have received quite a deal on the transmission because although it's a four speed automatic, I'm pretty sure it stays in third gear for all of 1/10th of a second during all forms of acceleration. Once again, third gear must not be an often-used feature for the rental car customers. As you might imagine, the effects of no third gear on fuel economy are less than ideal given that you have to flog this thing in fourth gear to get it up to a proper speed.

But the place where this vehicle truly shines is in the handling department. Really the only way to describe how this car handles is to imagine sledding down a snow-covered hill on a waterbed covered in marshmallows rolled in bubble wrap. Nothing stays where it should during cornering and any sharp turn over 10 MPH elicits a banshee-like wail from one or all of the tires that fail to make proper contact with the driving surface. Now I'm all for the tire-squealing fun, but in this car I'm pretty sure it looks like granny is off her seizure meds and has run amok in her trusty Malibu.

There is one group that seems to like the rental car: the birds. They've been doing their part to recolour it spot by white spot and I must say that they've been reasonably successful in giving it a sort of beach camouflaged (brown and white) look. I've been helping out by refusing to wash it (hey, that's included in the rental price, right?) in part because I think it completes the package. The car drives like crap, it should look like crap, right?

At any rate, the rental period is up in just a few days and I'm getting another car for the last four days of my stay here. I can only hope that I get downgraded to something better than this thing. So the moral of this story is: if you ever see one of these things that looks like a Malibu but says "Classic", do yourself a favour and "downgrade" to something better. You might even save a few bucks.

The ride ends in 13 days

2005-06-21T00:47:00.000-06:00

Less than two weeks now until the internship is over, and I'm beginning to wonder what life will be like back in Edmonton. Will it seem normal or have I been here too long? No doubt I'll miss the nice things about this place like the great weather and the abundance of cool cars to see. Having the ocean nearby is also a plus. Sure, Edmonton has its highlights like how everybody owns a 4x4 truck, even if the most off-roading it will ever see is the rough pavement at the entrance to the local Tim Horton's. It will be good to get back to dedicated thesis work; this thing has to get finished sooner or later. Maybe I'll manage to score another internship later in my studies.

This place is becoming skunk-tastic

2005-06-18T01:56:00.000-06:00

Who doesn't like California? Judging by the stench that permeates my apartment on a semi-nightly basis, and by those misshapen white on black lumps on the highway, skunks can't get enough of this place. And from the smell of it they are waging some sort of unholy war for domination of the neighbourhood. Unfortunately for us apartment-dwellers, this war has a significant amount of collateral damage. At least three nights of the week I have to turn off all sources of outside air and close all windows because some neighbourhood animal has unwittingly violated some skunk's sphere of comfort or one has met an untimely end on the nearby freeway (interstate style). One has to wonder exactly how bad it is out there when you're actually awoken from a deep sleep by the toxic fumes at 4am? I think Terry, a skunk-control expert noted for his shave-em-with-a-shotgun style of dealing with the pests, is required to deal with a problem of this magnitude.

Stop & Go traffic: more stop than go

2005-06-17T20:43:00.000-06:00

Ever since I started driving I have held the belief that whenever you come to a traffic light you have a 50/50 chance of it being green or red (with a very small chance of it being yellow; and yellow means green anyway). But my daily commute through Mountain View, CA seems to violate that belief. Traffic lights are supposed to regulate the way traffic flows so people can get from Point A to Point B in a reasonable amount of time. The Mountain View civil engineers seem to have solved this problem by creating the most spectacularly suboptimal solution to this problem known to man. They seem to have actually worked out a light schedule such that you can never get through more than one green light in a row before you are stopped at a red (if you're lucky). It often makes me wonder if this is a side-effect of some other planning decision or if they actually want it that way. Or maybe they have a monkey that makes the decisions as to when the lights change. But if there were to reward that monkey with a banana every time I got through a green light they would have a very dead monkey.

Los Altos, on the other hand, seems to have almost no lights at all and has instead replaced them with N-way stops (for some N >= 3). This actually seems to make things go faster than in neighbouring Mountain View. So if your traffic light strategy can't out-perform N-way stops, you need a new strategy.

Drowning in email

2005-06-16T00:26:00.000-06:00

The reply-all button in any email client is, quite possibly, the worst idea ever conceived. It allows the average, mild-mannered person with an opinion on a given topic to broadcast said opinion to far more people than could possibly care. Throw in a large list of people and you have a recipe for a deluge of biblical proportions. What makes it even worse is that these replies are self-perpetuating; one reply spawns many others. As the thread depth steadily grows, the conversation topic gradually drifts away from the original message (usually toward the topic of Hitler or the Holocaust or both). People seem to be oblivious to this fact and, although the original message may be informative and useful, the replies are anything but for the vast majority of the recipients. The net effect is that otherwise important messages are lost in a sea of irrelevance. So do us a favour next time you think about using reply-all, or at least give us time to build an ark to survive the coming flood.

My first post

2005-06-12T23:19:00.000-06:00

I figured that since everybody else on the Net has a blog I might as well set one up for myself. More to follow in the coming posts...