What Makes a Good Man - 2021 Edition

 Eight years ago, I created my first iMovie that included both John Goodman and the band The Heavy.  It also had references to Goodman diagrams, Benny Goodman, and other tangents.

https://justjoep.blogspot.com/2013/12/what-makes-goodman.html

Today, there was a wonderful story about Eugene Goodman, (link here) the Capitol policeman who lured away rabid insurrectionists from the House Chamber, up flights of stairs as the racist mob pursued him.  He's now deputy sergeant at Arms for the House, and escorted our 46th President, Joe Biden, and VP Kamala Harris to the inauguration today.  I love it when someone is good at their job, and they help others.  We need more Eugene Goodmans.  Less shamans, and less angry old guys sitting at folding tables with sad drumpf flags.  

Today was also a Fantastic Day, as Haircut 100 would say, much like it was in October 2008 when I made this post while living in Phoenix:

https://justjoep.blogspot.com/2008/10/fantastic-day.html

So this is somewhat of a recycled post of two old videos, combined with one new story, that are all part of the greater big picture.

If you're a "Q anon" supporter / enthusiast / believer, and you still don't think Joe Biden is legitimately elected, you need to DO YOUR HOMEWORK (as Q adherents LOVE to shout).  No, there's no lizard people running nations.  No, the election was not stolen just because a pathological liar repeatedly tweeted and shouted that it was - observers from Both Parties, as well as neutral and international observers all agreed, and re-counts verified, that the election was not stolen and there was no wide-spread fraud.  In the very few cases of individual voter fraud uncovered, there were mostly pathetic maga adherents who voted republican twice or voted for a dead relative.  And if you don't think Covid is real, please go out and get it to "prove everyone wrong", right after you get a legal medical directive to Not Treat You for anything resembling Covid.  You WON'T be missed.

Put on your red shoes...

 I was on my way home from getting some pet food on Wednesday night, when Sirius XM played David Bowie's Let's Dance on my car stereo.   It was the first time I sang along to any song with any amount of joy since Sunday morning, August 16th, when the coroner called me to tell me my son had died.  Put on your red shoes and dance the blues... 

Carlsbad Cardiac Conscious Rodents?

On Sunday evening, I noticed 3 twigs of chrysanthemum plant leaves laying haphazardly on the ground in my backyard, near my grill.  "How did those get there?" I thought, as they were a good 10 to 15 feet away from the LARGE potted chrysanthemum plant Dr Desert Flower has near the outdoor fireplace in the backyard.  I picked them up, examined the stems closely, and it looked distinctly as if a rodent had chewed them off, dragged them away... and then got distracted or detected or possibly had to evade being eaten by an owl or something else, and just dropped them in front of the grill.  So I set them over onto a raised planter near the grill, and made a mental note:  "On Monday, take these to the green trash can", since it was dusk and we've got an abundance of orb web weaving spiders and I really Really REALLY dislike walking into any spider web and getting it on my face, with or without a spider on the web.

To my surprise, this morning (Monday morning, 31 August as I write this), I went out into the backyard in full day light, to fetch the chewed off branches.  They Were Gone.  Only thing left was a sad, trodden, tiny fragment of one of the 3 branches.  I was perplexed.  Where did these large, sandal sized branches go?  Then I remembered, we've got "citrus rats" (AKA Southern California rats that enjoy eating citrus... sounds better that way) and California Ground Squirrels.  Both are about the size of a men's size 12 sneaker, and are large enough to set off wildlife cameras in the yard.  The sadly squished single remanent was not much bigger than a sprig of parsley you might get at a restaurant, and obviously was not worth dragging away by the large nocturnal rodent who had gnawed off the other 3 branches.

Today, I tried to search for "chrysanthemum lined rat nests" and "+chrysanthemum rodent toxicity" and "+chrysanthemum +rat +nest".  I have known that chrysanthemums are used in natural "green" pesticides along with rosemary and peppermint, as many insects abhor and avoid these plants for the scents and toxins carried within them.  One time when we lived in South Carolina, I watched a Japanese beetle land on a marigold plant next to the driveway, take one bite, and fall over dead, instantly.  A few weeks later, I saw the same thing happen to another beetle who landed on a chrysanthemum plant, chomped it, and rolled over onto the ground on its back, legs in the air, twitching momentarily, and then died.  Granted, these were tiny insects, and dosage matters, so the rats (or perhaps squirrels?) won't die from nesting with chrysanthemum... but do they know the holistic benefits of having chrysanthemum lined nests to dissuade fleas and ticks from feeding on their children?  "My momma taught me, when I was a little rat, to always line the nest with chrysanthemum, yes she did!"

Or were these rats voracious readers of Chinese studies of the effects of concentrated chrysanthemum extract on myocardial fibrosis in rats with renovascular hypertension? 

link here:  https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/32186102/   and link here: https://pubs.acs.org/doi/10.1021/jf062088r  (Absorption and Excretion of Luteolin and Apigenin in Rats after Oral Administration of Chrysanthemum morifolium Extract)

I don't know for sure.  There are so damn many H1B visa holders in Southern California that the rodents in my yard might have been participants in the aforementioned scientific studies for all I know? (taking away jobs and resources from Umerikun rodents!  "Make 'Merica rat infested again!" [makes as much sense as Drumpf's inane con-man slogans that only the most gullible of American citizens embrace, hook, line, and sinker]).  

All along the Southern side of my property there's a 6 ft high wall that separates my yard from the neighbor's, and it is covered in jasmine and mandevilla vines.  My hypothesis is that there's a rat family living in the thick vines on top of the wall, and they wanted to help discourage parasites from living in their nest... or they're cardiac research scientist rats who are squatting without paying rent.  Not sure - and no, I'm not the president of the USA in Idiocracy.  

Rage, Against Vanessa Carlton

 My buddy Joe M sent me this link this morning, and it really brightened an otherwise depressing start to my day.  First day back to work following my son's death, funeral, wake, cremation, flight home, and zoom wake for relatives yesterday.  I listened to this, and thought several things simultaneously:

- It is brilliantly done

- It's perfect for introducing Rage Against The Machine to generations of people who may have never heard them before, or think they're too hard to listen to, or that "rock is roll is not my kind of music" listeners

- It can be listened to by teenage tik-tok trolls who love music like Vanessa Carlton, and perhaps it can open their eyes and ears and hearts to the message within

- My son would have enjoyed this

- I need to share this with a wide-of-an-audience as possible

I hope you enjoy listening to it as much as I did, wether you live in Kenosha, Portland, Washington DC, Charlottesville, Charleston, San Diego, Orange County, or wherever closed minded, anachronistic, 1950s-nostalgic, Confederate apologists, Nationalists, Alt Right, Q-anon, pathetic nazis, and white supremacists keep raising their ugly, delusional filled, willfully ignorant little heads.

Link: https://youtu.be/6kYco2Zt-cM

I just have some extra lemons...

There's a local neighborhood social media platform called Next-door.com, which I renamed "complaining-neighbors.com" since the vast majority of posts on it in here in Southern California has traditionally been neighbors complaining about:

- dogs owners letting their dogs poop in other people's yards

- dog owners not picking up after their pets

- cars driving too fast near schools

- occasional helicopters circling a neighborhood

- cars being broken into that homeowners leave unlocked in their driveways

- packages being stolen off of front porches

- rattlesnakes being found in a large planter, or on a hiking path, or in someone's garage

- really loud music blasting late at night from a party where the parents are not home

- graffiti somewhere in the city

- drivers who cut you off or drive recklessly or who don't know how to turn on a double-lane turn

- strangers walking around the neighborhood or sitting in vehicles on residential streets who don't live there

- unleashed dogs attacking leashed dogs on walking trails

- coyotes attacking any dog that's smaller than a coyote

... that kind of thing.  Sometimes there are nice posts of someone who needs moving boxes, or someone who needs a heavy piece of furniture moved or picked up, or to borrow a ladder or wheelbarrow or other tool.  Over the years there have been lost pet posts, please adopt this dog or cat posts, seeking a pet sitter posts.. and that genre of neighborhood communication.  But nearly all of that has changed.

When the malignant narcissist was installed by the United State's electoral college after losing the popular vote in 2016, I significantly decreased the frequency that I ever visited the Book Face (or FaceBook as most people call it), because I was sick and tired of all the Russian bot generated fake news with inflammatory headlines designed to enrage whoever clicked on them. Troll bots drove massive amounts of traffic and eye ball exposure to misleading, or fabricated, or out-of-context "news stories" that so many devoted followers clicked on, and liked, or shared, and propagated faster than Covid-19 is currently spreading around the world.  I did NOT want any part of that, and trying to fend it off or combat it, or explain why it was incorrect was becoming an enormous waste of time.  So I withdrew from that battlefield (yes, the Book Face IS a battlefield, fighting for your attention, surveilling your data and preferences, plotting to try and sell you ads for stuff you don't want, while also re-selling your data to retailers and big data research firms to make even MORE money off of your "free" account - and their Instagram acquisition is no better.  It just has prettier pictures most of the time).

Around that time, Dr Desert Flower and I had just moved into a house in a new neighborhood, in a new city a few months before, and one of the realtors who lived in the neighborhood was the administrator of the local community Next-door site.  I signed up and created an account for DDF and I, and we "welcomed" other new neighbors, got to know several of the people who lived around us, donated our moving boxes to people who needed them, and even eventually adopted a pet who was posted on Nextdoor as being in need of a home.  

Gradually, as the malignant narcissist out lasted the Mueller investigation, and then the Republican Senate refused to convict the impeached president, I noticed that the posts and the comments on Nextdoor.com became increasingly political, aggressively confrontational, angry, and nasty.  "Mean spirited" does no begin to describe the vitriol that so many neighbors readily spouted on the site.  MAGA themes, and anti-MAGA themes pervaded any kind of post you could imagine, even ones that had NOTHING to do with politics.  Emboldened by the "new normal" that the White House had established in bullying, criticizing, using hate speech, being openly racist, without any repercussions, fans of the president found fertile ground in which to plant their ideologies.  Liberals and progressives would often provoke them - inadvertently often or overtly sometimes - and stoke the hate and anger to completely uncivilized levels of disgusting discourse.  

Then, the Covid-19 shelter-in-place orders came out, first from governors who needed to take action without any coherent leadership from the deniers in the White House.  Then, the White House issued the "president's guidelines" for how to stay safe in the pandemic by mailing everyone post cards 2ith instructions that just a few weeks before the malignant narcissist had been mocking.  Once the States were in quarantine, and everyone was home with ample time on their hands, the flood gates - which had been LEAKING terribly - burst wide open.  

Nextdoor became a full-on platform for those who were taking self-isolation and shelter-in-place to the strictest levels began railing on anyone they saw outside on the street or sidewalk as a public menace if that person or persons did not meet their level of sterile precautions.  The MAGA fans exploded back in hostile retribution telling those who criticized them where they could go and where they could stick things.  Moderators (like the realtor who admins our neighborhood site) now had a FULL TIME job taking down postings that were erupting with neighbors screaming at each other, injecting politics and personal beliefs into any and every posting imaginable.  

Posts like:

a) does anyone know when the city will open the hiking trails again?

or

b) the condos across the main road have 2 Covid cases in them, the City posted it on everyone's doors

or

c) does anyone have an extension ladder I could borrow on Saturday?

or

d) My son and daughter-in-law are stuck in Peru where the cruise ship they were on is quarantined; does anyone know how I can get them back home? 

or

e) I have some extra lemons, if anyone would like a few, our tree made so many 

... devolved, within 3 to 5 replies, to "that's the whole problem with you libertards!" or "it's the president you voted for who killed my uncle by not implementing a national plan!"  or "why don't you create a database that tracks everyone's health, doctor visits, cough, sniffles, and Rxs in the whole neighborhood?"

The little old lady just had some extra lemons... she was not trying to start an armed conflict.  

And it is not just down here in San Diego County.  Our friends in Orange County have noticed the same thing, perhaps even worse.  Our civil society isn't.  Civil discourse is dead.  Everyone is too angry and hateful, entrenched in there own camp, fed by Fox News and MSNBC, OAN and Talking Points Memo, Brietbart and The Raw Story, Drudge Report and The Washington Post, The New York Times and Gawker, Politico and The Washington Examiner.

I've been telling people who I know that there will very likely be an ugly American civil war if the 45th president loses in November 2020 and refuses to step down, or calls the election "rigged" (as he did in 2016), and possibly declares Marshal Law as violence rises in both red and blue states, minorities and outspoken voices of reason, and those who are not wearing the right 'patriotic' colors  are lynched, hospitalized, or disappear.  Most people scoff at such a notion, and say "things won't get to that level."  But look how QUICKLY Nextdoor spiraled downward.  Neighborhood residents CANNOT Fake profiles or Hide as an anonymous troll on Nextdoor.  It is a verified, regulated, moderated site, where Open Discourse is supposed to be the norm.  Open, civilized discourse.

It will not take much to go from Complainingneighbors.com to Violentneighbors.com or WeKNOWwhereyoulive.com, by ideologues who have forgotten how to discuss facts, respectfully, and politely.  

An Empty LA

The new video by Maynard of Tool, on his side project Puscifer, published Apocalyptical yesterday.  (thanks to my buddy Ryan for the head's up).  It shows a completely empty Los Angeles.  I've been to the Staples Center.  It's in a very busy section of the city.   https://youtu.be/Hj_bTbfAEsc


A skateboarder in a level 4 haz mat suit, drone footage of streets, parking lots, beaches, all devoid of human life in frame after frame.  Granted, these might have been taken near dawn on a cloudy day (so you can't see shadows) but it is eerie how empty the streets are in America's 2nd largest city.

Those Southern states who are opening back up with little or no restrictions, I wish your health care systems and morticians all the best, as your elderly, cancer patients, diabetics, hypertensives, morbidly obese, immuno-compromised, the weakest of "the herd" say their good byes to their families (if they still have any) through FaceTime or panes of glass before they expire.  No, Covid-19 is not a hoax.  It's not some conspiracy created by hospitals to get more Medicare money. It's a global pandemic.

If you read this, and can't help yourself in angrily (or snarkily) responding to me, your comments will be published and mocked.

The 99%'s Favorite Drinking Spot in Carlsbad

So last December, Dr Desert Flower and I moved from our home in Carlsbad that had no view, no breeze, and was on a fairly busy street, with a 2 car garage, to another home in Carlsbad that had a canyon and ocean sunset view, a consistent breeze nearly every morning and evening, a pool, a wine cellar, and a 3 car garage - instead of a Tetris Packed 2 car - and was on a cut de sac with very little traffic each day.  At the previous home, from June 2015-Dec 2018, we had a fair number of hummingbirds visit our yard, possess our feeders, and provide visual amusement to both the humans and our feline familiar who'd look longingly out the window at the hummingbirds, and salivate.  We were not sure if the hummingbirds would warm up to our new location, exposed on a canyon rim with a 200 foot drop into the valley below, without the lush vegetation in which they previous hid at the first Carlsbad house.  We set out the feeders, and waited.

No need to "share a straw" when you bring your own

It didn't take long.  We soon had dozens of hummingbirds vying for positions, perches, a place at the free-drink happy hour bar.  The feeders along the western fence at the canyon's edge were THE MOST popular.  10 holed nectar feeders that consistently draw 10, 11, or 12 birds (where they share the same hole with the beaks side-by-side), began to be drained at the rate of 1 quart each day, or 1000 mls per day.  At a 4:1 water to sugar ratio, that meant that I was going through a 4 pound bag of sugar every 4 or 5 days, washing mold and fungus from the feeders every 2 or 3 days (using warm water and a tiny bit of Dawn dishwashing liquid), and never getting tired of seeing the swarms of birds enjoying the free nectar.


At the old house, a single mature dominant male would try and "own" a specific feeder, and chase off all other birds in a futile attempt to hoard the whole pint or whole quart of nectar to himself.  Sometimes a mature male would let a female of the same species drink at "his feeder" but that was really only during mating season (in the late Winter and early Spring), and rarely ever in mid-day when sunlight was plentiful and visual acuity (to see if the birds were male, female, adolescent [not yet plumage differentiated] and which species was visiting) was much clearer.  At "humming bird happy hour", AKA an hour before sunset as the shadows grow longer and ambient light substantially decreases, "tolerance" of other birds at a feeder increased and one might see 1/2 a dozen birds drinking at the same time from the same feeder.  It was mostly 1 dominant mature male, several females, and a handful of adolescents who were trying to appear as if they might be females of mating age... but it was often more than just one hummingbird at a specific feeder at happy hour.


In the new canyon rim home, the fence adjacent feeders are now remarkably successful beyond our wildest dreams.  There are often 10 birds perched, drinking from 10 holes, as 2 to 4 more birds hover nearby, waiting their turn.  Sometimes there at 11 or 12 birds drinking from 10 holes.  Occasionally there's a feisty Rufous or Anna's mature male who tries to drive off other birds, but the mature females Generally Ignore such trouble makers.  "We have nests to feed!" "Can't a lady get a drink?" and "No thanks, I already mated" are chirped phrases I imagine (project) are stated at every happy hour where the majority of the hummingbirds are mature females and adolescents, with just one or two males trying to get a drink alongside as well.

Um, I think I left my ID back at the nest... (12 birds on a 10 holed feeder, some of them undoubtedly nest mates)

We have at least 5 species of hummingbirds who visit our feeders.   I will state them here by rank of "most plentiful" to "least plentiful, more rare" as seen in our backyard.  Thanks to Cornel's All About Birds site, (and Audobon's site... since Cornel's is not loading in many instances today) you can learn more about them as well, if you follow the links:
Anna's:  https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Annas_Hummingbird/id  The NBA players of the hummingbird world; 20% bigger than everyone else.
Costa's; https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/costas-hummingbird
Rufous; https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/rufous-hummingbird ; small but pugnacious
Allen's; https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Allens_Hummingbird/overview
Blackchinned;  https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Black-chinned_Hummingbird/id



When I inquired to Cornel as to how much nectar a single hummingbird (using an Anna's as an example) consumes in a day, I was given the following answer:
Anna's Hummingbirds weigh on average about 1.95 grams.
Hummingbirds consume 1/2 their body weight each day on nectar, gnats, spiders, and small insects.  The nectar provides carbs while the insects provide protein.

...so if I am making At Least one quart a day (or 1000 milliliters) of nectar for the feeders along the fence, and each bird drinks a maximum of 1 ml each day (as 1 ml of water - 1 gram... the beauty of metric measure), then I am feeding 1000 birds every single day in my backyard.  Some hotter days, when we have Santa Anna winds, the birds are consuming 2 quarts per day.


Dr Desert Flower and I know this has led to a significant increase in the local hummingbird population, as well as helping to sustain mutations and variations that otherwise would probably rapidly perish "in the wild" without a government run, free nectar for the 99% program, such as we are providing.  We've seen beak mutations (bumped beaks, split beaks, frayed ends of beaks, broken beaks) at both the previous home's backyard and our current canyon rim home.  We've watched a severely bumped beak "male" try and take over a backyard feeder and dominate it, only to molt the next year (with the same bumped beak) into a female with muted plumage - perhaps a hermaphroditic XXY or androgen desensitivity mutation?  It's no longer "survival of the fittest" in our backyard, but the prospering of the most social, least combative.  And all it costs me is 4 pounds of sugar every 4 or 5 days.  A social safety net well-worth sustaining.

Scots, Casbah, Nov 18th

Dr Desert Flower and I have tickets to the SCOTS show at the Casbah in Downtown San Diego on November 18th.  If you have not seen SCOTS live, you've been missing an awesome show.  They're fun, talented, high energy, eclectic, surf-punk-rockabililly-country-party fun.  The first time I saw them was at Dawg Gone in Spartanburg SC back in the late 80s, and they were a hoot!  I've mentioned them here before many times:
here: http://justjoep.blogspot.com/2012/03/scots-on-folly-beach.html
here: https://justjoep.blogspot.com/2010/09/scots-rhythm-room-16-sept-2010.html
here: https://justjoep.blogspot.com/2009/09/los-straightjackets-scots-in-reno.html
here: https://justjoep.blogspot.com/2009/08/camel-walk.html
here: https://justjoep.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-only-crap-has-been-produced-after.html
and here: http://justjoep.blogspot.com/2011/07/40-miles-to-vegas.html

I've since seen them in AZ, NV, SC, CA (both north and south), IL, and NC multiple times... more than 20 times, with DDF, my son, my buddy Joe, my buddy Matt, and sometimes by myself (though SCOTS is more fun with friends than it is alone).  Our son, Nathan Jr has lit their shows in Charleston more at least 4 times.  You should go see them while they tour the West Coast.  You won't regret that you did.

Enjoy

If you haven't voted yet...

If you haven't voted yet, you need to take some time off work tomorrow and go vote.  I don't care if you're a Democrat, Republican, Independent, Libertarian, Green Party (in the US = throw away your vote) or other affiliation.  Go vote.  Participate in your democracy.  It's disgusting that dictatorships like Iraq and Venezuela have 80, 90, or 99% voter turn out when the United States has barely 50 or 60% participation on a good year.  The USA is supposed to be the birth place of western Democracy. Act like it, citizens!

If you're a hard-core Drumpf supporter who still likes him, despite his narcissism, infidelity, multiple bankruptcies, serial lying, corruption, bombastic irrational flailing, bigotry, narrow minded stupidity, inexperience, fealty to Putin, dictator worship, then you could vote, but it doesn't really matter because you're less than 40% of the electorate and you're not a supporter of the US Constitution which Drumpf viscerally hates and disregards.  Go polish your guns, yell at your hired help, mistreat your pets, children and wait staff, and try to ignore the saliva and pubes they've put in your food.    Why do I say Drumpf hates and disregards the Constitution?  1st amendment.  He calls all journalists (except for Faux News) the "Enemy of the People".  Those are dictator words. Fighting' words.  Those are words of a very small, very paranoid little man.  If you can't shin while being scrutinized, you're not Presidential material.

Doctor Desert Flower and I will likely go to a "Flip the 49th" election night party tomorrow night after she gets home from her grueling job.  If Mike Levin wins, awesome.  If Mike Levin loses, then at least we'll have made the acquaintance of other progressive humans who live in Northern San Diego County who have consciences and who don't think "all the brown people" are coming to take what we have.  And, as a weapons proficient NRA rated sharpshooter, I'll be happy to help protect the gathering of rather defenseless progressives and liberals from any nefarious bombers, shooters, or other mayhem wielding scared middle aged white folks.

Zobaczymy...   we shall see.

2018 California Judge Voter Guide

Hello my fellow Californian Voters

If you vote by mail, like I have for the last decade + and you're looking for a voter guide as to who backs who, and that their record is different issues, you've got the voter guides the State and county sends you by law, but sadly, those are DEVOID of information on Judges.  When you look at your November 2018 ballot, you'll see there's nearly an ENTIRE PAGE dedicated to state judges... Yes or No... and if they get a majority of Yes votes, they remain on the bench.  If they get a majority of no votes, then they either have to run or resign, or go under judicial review... it's not clear to me, but a NO vote doesn't help them at all.

So I'm watching KPBS this evening and they mention their voter guide online, so I launch my Safari browser hoping to find info on the judges for whom I have not voted.  Nada, rein, pas de tout, nichts, nada... there's no content on KPBS.  I go to the toothless State Judicial Review site, and it too is Devoid of relevant information.  Therobingroom.com has basically only Yelp reviews of disgruntled litigants and is not something you can take seriously nor comprehensively.  So I keep googling... I don't want to make uniformed decisions, or pick randomly.  I find this VERY DETAILED site:  https://judgevoterguide.com/san-diego-county/

Wow, this really goes into depth, and looks very comprehensive, and I stupidly begin filling out my ballot.  THEN... I google the website's old-white-guide author, Craig Huey.  He looks kinda like conservative national radio show host Hugh Hewitt, so I start looking him up.  He's an extremely far right, hard core conservative.  He's rated everyone from NO to 5 stars, with most being either NO or 5, with very very little in the middle.  So I take Craig's ideological perspective, spin it 180 degrees, and then vote completely against this dinosaur.  Thanks Craig!

I also called my buddy Joe M in the Bay Area, (one of The Most informed voters I know) and he recommended Broke Ass Stuart, who is also in the bay area.  Stuart's picks are good too... but he doesn't cover San Diego.  So if you are looking for factual advice on various candidates, I strongly recommend you go to Craig Huey's page, and vote your heart and mind and social conscious.  If you're a rich, selfish, Mine Mine Mine! greedy, narrow-libertarian who despises anything progressive and socially redeemable, follow Craig's advice.  Otherwise, leverage his driven & fastidious hatred and vote the exact opposite of his sleekly published viewpoints.

Promises vs Reality, Mexico

On my Aeromexico flight from LAX to Monterrey Mexico this morning, I was unexpectedly upgraded to Business Class.  Instead of a cramped coach seat in this Embraer 190 (2 x 2 seating in the back, 1 + 2 seating in business class, x four rows), I have a rather spacious left hand 3A seat, with a window all to myself and no neighbor.  Very nice.

Not having flown Aeromexico Business class for many years, I was curious as to what kind of alcohol they might serve.  I of course, looked at their in-fight magazine and immediately located the whiskey.  Whiskey Bushmills - international flight…. well, that’s what I’m on.  Cognac Courvosier - International Flight.  Mmmmm, choices choices.  I also noted that they had Johnny Walker black for those who love peat and smoke, various beers, 2 tequilas, 2 vodkas, and one rum (or Ron).  The white wine list included a Bordeaux, a California Chardonnay, a Riesling, and 2 others.  2 bubblies, and 3 or 4 reds. I’d ask for Courvosier, then go to the Bushmills if they didn’t have it, and then step down to the vino blanco if that was low as well.

“Courvosier Cognac, por favor” I said in my best Spanish to the flight attendant.  I received a blank stare.  I showed the flight attendant the page from GranPlan Aire magazine.  She looked, and said “whiskey?”  Si, Bushmills whiskey for favor.  She then walked back up to the front of the plane, 10 feet away, and opened a 1750 ml bottle of Johnny Walker Black, pouring me a generous serving.  Not my favorite by far, but drinkable compared to its red cousin, that is better off thrown as a molotov cocktail.  After lunch was served she politely asked if I wanted more whiskey.  “No gracias. Vino blanco for favor”.  I am now on my 3rd glass of vino blanco - I am not driving when I get to Monterrey.

Why am I not working? - you might ask?  Well, the company paid for a non-refundable cheap coach class ticket, where there is not room to open a lap top.  I’m up in business class not because of work, but because of the funerals and vacations I’ve taken with Delta this year that have almost made me gold medallion status.  The domestic and Tijuana based work flights I’ve taken have barely moved the needle.  If work wants me to work on a flight, they can pay for business class, and i will drink less, work more, and be a happier camper.  After 5 decades on this mortal coil, I have no patience for trying to placate cheap employers who drive to the lowest common denominator.  Therefore, I am composing my first blog post in many many many months.

I named this post “Promises vs Reality” because in Mexico, there are No Shortage of lofty promises.  Can you makes these parts? Si.  Can you meet the delivery date?  Si.  Will the parts be made from American bar stock and sheet metal?  Si.  Can you mark each part according to the instructions on the specification?  Si.  All promises made to try and make the customer happy.  None of the promises were kept…  no, not even slightly, remotely, partially kept.  Late parts, unmarked, with no data, made from very cheap Chinese sheet stock… a lie on every front.   This is what the last 4 months of dealing with Mexican suppliers has been for me.  And today’s Aeromexico flight is emblematic of what I’ve seen at various supplier throughout Mexico this year.  

No one ever wants to tell you know…  but they will slowly show you (demonstrating) no.

At least I got to sit in a nice, comfortable seat to compose this post... unexpectedly pleasant.  

SpaceX Falcon Heavy Boosters Return Safely Simultaneously

When I was a kid, I remember sitting in front of the 25 inch tube TV in my parents' living room watching Apollo space capsules splashing down in the ocean and US Navy divers jumping out of helicopters in wet suits to attach lifting cables to the outside of the floating capsules.  It had always fascinated me, and I've seen Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo re-entry capsules in Chicago at the Museum of Science and Industry, in Washington DC at the Smithsonian, at the San Diego Air and Space Museum in Balboa Park.  Those capsules exited the atmosphere, and returned, carrying live astronauts, and surviving re-entry through he atmosphere, and the heat and pressure scars on the surface of the capsules was always jaw dropping to me as a kid, as a teen, and as a young adult that we, as puny humans, could design and build and launch something that was so tough it could survive re-entry and return the astronauts back to terra ferma safely.

Then today, South African immigrant Elon Musk's company SpaceX launched the Falcon Heavy as a test flight for future Mars missions, making it the largest rocket (3 million pounds) launched since Apollo moon missions more than 40 years ago.  Yes, SpaceX has launched and recovered boosters before. Sometimes on remote controlled barges, sometimes on land. But they had not done a double booster return yet, and watching today's double simultaneous landing was... amazing... jaw dropping... awe-inspiring... remarkable.  See here:


Sure, the rocket's  "payload" was Elon's personal Tesla Roadster convertible, being driven by a mannequin in a space suit, and outfitted with 3 cameras that have been giving fantastic views of the car and the Earth as it heads into orbit around the Sun and a rendezvous with Mars in about 6 months... and that's cute, and stylish, and amusing, and FAR BETTER than launching a dummy payload of bricks or steel or something really boring (but safe).  Elon had given the launch a '50 to 66% chance of success', setting realistic expectations.  The boosters came back safely, and beautifully.  The main core malfunctioned after separating from the payload at MACH 15, and did not make it to the remote controlled barge in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean as planned... but 2 out of 3 safe returns for usable rockets is not bad. And I anticipate, it will only get better with more practice.

Going into space is hard.  It's not easy nor simple, and few nations have done it successfully.  Fewer companies have done is successfully, and Only One has returned two booster rockets, simultaneously, to a precise launch pad, without using heat sheilds, the ocean, US Navy divers, or parachutes... very impressive indeed!

Balboa Park Botanical Garden

On Sunday, Dr Desert Flower and I had zero interest in watching the Superbowl since it was the New England perennial cheaters against the Philadelphia obnoxious fans underdogs.  [Note: I clearly state "cheaters" not because of just 'deflate-gate', but because of the pattern over years of coach Bellicose's reign, where he sent spies to opposing teams' training camps to video tape their practices, hired professional lip readers to spy on opposing teams' offensive and defensive coaches to gather intel on what plays were coming next, and generally played very dirty, making every under-handed, sneaky, below-board move possible].  Not wanting to spend time in front of the TV watching the glorification of two teams we despised, we decided to go somewhere that normally would have many people, but hopefully would have Much Fewer persons and be far less crowded than than usual.  We decided upon Balboa Park's Botanical Garden, as we'd never been there before and it was less than an hour's drive away.

Much Smaller than Phoenix's Desert Botanical Garden, the Balboa Park garden is cute, compact, a pretty little spot to visit.  It's perhaps 5% the size of Phoenix's botanical garden, but of course much cooler.  The weather was in the mid-to-upper 70s (Fahrenheit), with low humidity in the 30% range, with gentle breezes of 5 mph every now-and-then.  Quite pleasant.  Crowd-wise... it was a different story.  We arrived around noon, and could only find parking in the vast lot behind the Air and Space Museum in Balboa Park.  Not a long walk, but a good 1/2 mile or so to get to the Botanical Garden.  By the time we left 90 minutes later, that large parking lot was jammed full with cars circling like sharks looking for parking spaces.  The crowds were international.  I heard Spanish, Italian, Russian, Czech, Hindi, Mandarin, Japanese and Thai being spoken as we walked through the park and passed various families; International visitors who Also could not care less about the Superbowl spectacle.  We tried eating at 2 of the cafes inside the park and found 30 and 45 minute waits... and not being British, I don't queue very well, so we headed over to Banker's Hill and had a delicious leisurely brunch at Parc Bistro.

Next year, when two teams are playing that we are equally apathetic about, we'll head out to a remote national park and enjoy the serenity and tranquility, devoid of human interference.  = )

North San Diego County is on Fire

North San Diego County is on Fire this evening.  Fallbrook (the Lilac fire) went from 10 acres to 2000 acres in 2 hours, and is now approaching 3000 acres, with 0% containment.

The photo above I took from the hill over our neighborhood looking north.  We are about 15 miles South of the current wild fires.  About 20 buildings have been destroyed, with more on the way.  As I drove home from the elbow doctor this evening (my final visit!  hooray!) I took the picture below on the I-5 North that as moving at < < less than 5 mph.   The smoke is being blown by Santa Anna winds from East to West, out over the ocean, where it is joining with a Tijuana wild fire that has burnt 200 acres of rural vegetation.

I'll be preparing an evacuation kit this evening that contains
- clothing
- laundry detergent & fabric softener sheets
- bottled water
- snacks
- freeze dried camping food
- medical kit
- self protection, for security, against miscreants
- two 5 gallon gas cans (which I'll fill at Costco tomorrow morning)
- cat food, litter, litter box, cat food & water dishes, cat carrier
- wine
- nuts
- dried fruit
- in-house fresh fruit
- microwave pop corn
- basic cooking utensils, frying pans, slow cooker
- cell phone chargers & Mac chargers
- whiskey & whisky
- Rxs & Rx refills
- warm clothing, jackets, sweaters, hiking boots
- emergency crank radio
- batteries
- dish soap
- flash lights
- garbage bags
- tarps
- camping knives
- axe & saw
- basic hand tools
- extension cords
- rope
- family documents
- credit cards

Now it is time to eat...  and then pack.  Hopefully, it'll all just be proactive and un-necessary; il faut voir.

Humming Bird Happy Hour Bouncer

6 Hummingbirds drinking together in my yard (1 mature Anna's, 2 juvenile Rufous, and 3 Anna's females)

30 minutes before sunset this evening, I sat down in my backyard to enjoy watching hummingbird happy hour.  Hummingbird happy hour is the bet time of the day to observe hummingbirds in a group setting.  The dimming of the sun's natural day light, combined with the abundant availability of established food (11 nectar feeders around the yard) and the inevitability of the arrival of total darkness, draw all the neighborhood hummingbirds together for one long, deep drink of high energy sugar water before the long night's embrace.  The diminished light makes the Brilliant plumage that the dominant males of all hummingbird species develop look much less spectacular, mottled, dull, which puts ALL the hummers -  the dominant males, the fearful juveniles who sport just a goatee, the confident mature females (who are the same size as the mature males, but look they a lot like juveniles) and the immature new fledglings - on nearly equal footing.

Mature Rufous Male Hummingbird

I've enjoyed dozens of hummingbird happy hours here in California.  In Arizona, I saw 2 Anna's hummingbirds at a feeder, once.  Here in California, I've relished dozens of twilights that included a dozen or more birds all sharing resources, before going into their semi-catatonic sleep for the night high up on a secluded branch that's strong enough to barely hold their own weight (less than 21 grams, in most cases).  Tonight was the First time that I observed a vociferous, possessive, pugnacious male Rufous dominant male who continued to chase all other thirsty birds from the 2 feeders right outside the living room window.  One of the 2 feeders is a 4 holed solar PV lit feeder without any perches, so the birds have to hover as they drink.  Six feet away is 10 holed feeder that has a circumferential perch where I've counted as many as 9 hummingbirds drinking at one time (but I've not been able to take a picture of them in this way, yet), sharing resources, peacefully, and making me a very happy & satisfied human that I could create such an environment where I could 'bring the hummingbird community together', and be lucky enough to see them sharing.

A yellow jacket trying to get into one of the 10-holed feeders

Generally, the 2 feeders outside of Dr Desert Flower's office's window in the front yard are dominated by Rufous hummingbird males.  They hang out in the palm trees looming above, or in the oleander bushes a few feet away, or on the top of a skyward pointing succulent frond, observing the 2 front yard feeders, chasing away any other bird who comes to drink, With The Exception of mature females who the males are trying to woo, court, convince, and then with whom they want to copulate for all of 2 seconds while in free-fall from 200 feet in the air.  So Much testosterone and energy goes into the male hummingbird's daily routine, to bully away, ward-off, intimidate all other males and all other species, and try to romance only the mature females of their own species... it makes the plumage and prancing and jousting of a male peacock look blasé in comparison.  The Rufous males don't normally intrude into the back yard... or so I thought.

This evening, I listened to a proud dominant male Rufous sit up in my neighbor's tree above my backyard, chirp and whistle, claiming his dominance over 3 feeders that could be seen from that high vantage point.  I watched as this proud dominant male Rufous would swoop in, and chase away single birds, groups of females who were sharing the feeder, any creature who came near to the fears he now claimed.  This was ruining my happy hour observations.  Twice, I got up from my chair, glass of wine in hand, and stood near to the feeders.  The mature female visitors, who have been around the block and understand better how the world works, did Not see me as a threat, and they drank nearby, almost within arm's reach.  They were wary of the large hairless ape drinking from a wine glass, and they would have flown away if I had made sudden movements, but the pugnacious Rufous male would still come swooping in, Past My Head, and scare them all off.  This could not stand.  No little Rufous male is going to ruin my evening.

2 hummingbirds enjoying the feeder under my suppressing cover-fire

I thought quickly... how could I ward off this mis-guided cretin who never learned how to share, or get along with any other birds?  I remembered a recent Luther episode where a killer wielded a large orange squirt gun full of acid and blinded witnesses around London.  I recalled I had a large un-used squirt bottle in my laundry room that I'd not filled with anything, and ran into the house to fill it with water (no, not acid...  I am not a monster).  I'd used squirt guns to dissuade naughty house cats in the past, before I realized I'd become intensely allergic to them.  I hurriedly rushed back outside to sit with my wine glass and squirt bottle.  My wait didn't take long.

The dominant male Rufous swooped down almost immediately to ward off a dominant male Anna's and an Anna's female, in the dwindling twilight.  His angle of attack took him around the back of the feeder where I did not have a direct line-of-sight, but after he ran off the two other birds, he tried to get a drink from his coveted feeders.  My aim was exact, and the first squirt of water sent the Rufous off the feeder and back up into his tree observation post.  Two more female hummers came in to drink, and as the male Rufous dove down from the tree, I blocked his descent with a barrage of squirts that the gave him pause, and he perched in the jasmine about 8 feet behind the feeders.  More females arrived, and joined their sisters drinking.  5 visible birds at the feeder... but the Rufous male couldn't contain himself, he tried to drive them off.  I sent a salvo of 5 or 6 squirts that sent him into retreat.  2 of the drinking females rose off the feeder to note what was going on, But Then Resettled onto the feeder to resume drinking!  A dominant male Anna's, the NBA players of the hummingbird world due to the fact that they are generally 20% larger than any other hummingbird, settled down at the 10 holed feeder along with the bevy of females and juveniles.  "Hello ladies!" was the look in his little black eye, as he figured he'd hit the happy hour jackpot.  But it was short lived.

A fully mature, dominant Rufous male, perched outside my office, who thinks he "owns" the feeder there.

A moment later, the stubborn Rufous male Again dove at the feeder.  All the birds scattered, and I zeroed in on the bright white collar the mature Rufous male wore and hit him at least once, got close 2 or 3 times, and he fled again.  3 of the 5 females Returned and resumed drinking, under my cover fire.  The Rufous took up station back in his high tree branch, and I aimed upwards towards the little miscreant, arching far over the top of the feeders where the girls were enjoying happy hour, and the mature Rufous found this rebuff to be "too much" and flew elsewhere.  Finally, success!

So if you're a female hummingbird, regardless of species, you're more than welcome to come drink in my yard at hummingbird happy hour.  If you're an Anna's, Blackchinned, or Costa's mature male or a Rufous juvenile, and you know some boundaries and how to act publicly and behave at happy hour, you're also welcome to enjoy delicious high energy, fresh nectar in my yard.  However, if you're a trouble maker, you will be ejected, and refused re-entry into my yard's airspace.  If you persist, you'll be targeted with squirted tap water, which will make flight more difficult, frustrate your petty attempts to monopolize the abundant nectar in the feeders.  The unexpected wetting at dusk, combined with being chased away form the public feeders, may make it more difficult for you to remain warm over-night, but having a warmer, more friendly demeanor will be in your favor going-forward (over-come your instinctual programming, little punk!)  ... or just stick to the front yard, where the Rufous battles are pretty much perpetual.  The backyard feeders have a happy hour bouncer, who is more than 4000 times your mass, and who enjoys having a peaceful, sharing, community atmosphere at dusk.

Wonderful White Wines from Trader Joe's

I have an enormous collection of wine bottles on my desk, that for months, I've been procrastinating in blogging about.  I've always had something else to do for the last several months that was more pressing, whether it was working out, going to physical therapy, having elbow surgery, going to job interviews, going to France with DDF for her work conference, going to Jackson Hole for vacation, post-op doctor visits, energy consulting on the phone with clients, cleaning out and refilling the 11 humming bird feeders around our yard, getting 6.29 kWHrs of solar PV panels installed on my roof, re-reading old Zelazny books, learning introductory Spanish, or reading a new Iain M Banks book... but I've grown so tired of all the bottles taking up space and getting dusty, that I am going to do a shot-gun blast review of all of them this afternoon, and toss the bottles into the recycling bin this evening.

First off, the Trader Joe's "Petit Reserve" bottles are not bad.  They're sometimes slightly better than the standard fare at Trader Joe's.  Sometimes they are slightly worse / less tasty / off-a-little-bit, but they're never "pour down the drain bad", as some low cost wines and poorly kept high-end wines can be.  Many of them are screw top, and I personally have No Problem with screw top wine bottles, since
1) they are easier & quicker to open
2) the wine never suffers from cork rot & the resulting spoilage
3) they are slightly less expensive to manufacture, and that savings can be passed on to me by responsible grocers
4) they don't deplete the cork rainforests of Portugal and the endangered cork monkeys who live there (Portuguese cork monkeys are a fictional invention from my old friend Todd, from more than 20 years ago)
5) convenience: anyone can open them anywhere, without having to hunt up a sommelier / cork screw (like when you're away from home, traveling, or in a hotel room)

The Petit Reserves from Trader Joe's that I have tried are as follows:
Sauvignon Blanc, Horse Heaven Hills, Washington, 2016 - it was ok, drinkable, not bad for a Washington wine (and I am sure if you're from Washington that you Love your local wine, and that's fine.  I don't hate your local wine, it just didn't WOW me, or impress me, to the point of making a post all about it). For $7 a bottle, it was not bad.

Sauvignon Blanc, Sonoma County, 2016 - For $6 a bottle, this was some dern good wine.  I hope the recent fires in Northern California didn't destroy the inventory or the vines, as not drinking this again would be a loss.  This wine has a light citrus note, but NOT anything like a puckering New Zealand grapefruit abortion that completely ruins my palate & meal.

Sémillion, Napa Valley, 2016 - another $6 bottle that was not bad.  It had a nice buttery finish that some sémillions often do, but the long notes on the tongue were not as pleasing to me as the Sauvignon Blanc.

Pinot Grigio, Monterey, 2016 - fine for a $6 pinot grigio. Sweeter than the Sauvignon Blanc mentioned above, bit not riesling sweet.  If you like pinot grigios and don't want to pay $18 Santa Margarita prices, save $12 a bottle and buy this instead.

Other Trader Joe's wines that are not "Petit Reserve" that I've enjoyed, include:

Trader Joe's Coastal Sauvignon Blanc, Central Coast, 2016 -

This $4.49 bottle is the staple that I
keep 6 to 12 bottles on-hand, in the wine fridge, at all times.  This goes with everything.  It's not too sweet, nor is it too dry.  It causes me to have zero hang-over the next morning if I drink the whole bottle (or more) the night before.  My liver likes it.  My tongue likes it.  I like it.  I've given bottles to the neighbors' before, and if DDF and I are invited over to a friend or neighbor in California and we bring wine, one or more of the bottles will likely be this one.  It is my inexpensive & delicious "go to" wine, that I buy by the 1/2 dozen whenever I go to the Bressi Ranch Trader Joe's here in Carlsbad.











Trader Joe's Grower's Reserve, Sauvignon Blanc, made with organically grown grapes, 2016 - this $9 bottle was pretty good.  It had a smooth finish, light citrus notes, not at all overwhelming, and was enjoyable to drink; especially nice for an organic wine at a reasonable price.  If I was hard-core 100% organic all-the-time every-day, I'd probably switch to this, but since I am more than 1/2 century old now, and more than 1/2 of my life span is behind me, my passion for all-things-organic is more reasonable now.  If I can peel it, and I am not eating the skins, then organic is less important to me.  Yes, yes, I know biology experts, that what it is grown in and what it receives as nutrients during its life-cycle determines what its content is going to be.  I get that.  I also get that when I was a very young man (in my teens and 20s) I never thought I'd live past 40 or 50 at best, so now each day is sort of "bonus time" that I originally had not counted on ever reaching.  If this organic sauvignon blanc was AMAZING and Life Changing, I'd proclaim it from the roof tops, but to me, it was a good sauvignon blanc.  Enough to write home about, but not enough to turn into a short story or a novel.

I have several more bottles to write about, but one can only sit inside and blog for so long when it is 65 degrees Fahrenheit outside, with a light breeze, here in Southern California.  I know other parts of the country are experiencing a "normal November" of cold temperatures, cloudy skies, and frost each morning... but I blog today with my windows open, wearing shorts and a tee shirt, and I've not yet picked up my mail from the central mail down the street, so 'nuff for now.

Fresh Fish for Lunch

As long-time readers of JustJoeP are aware, I have an affinity for ospreys (links here and here).  They're the biggest raptors one can find at the beach here in southern California.  They successfully fish in both calm and rough seas, and they are as comfortable in the water as they are in the air, "shaking off" excess sea water after they've snatched an unsuspecting fish from the ocean.  While I've seen the occasional harrier hawk, red tail, and kite hunting at / near the beach and Batiquitos Lagoon, it's the ospreys that capture my attention and fascinate me.

Last April, when I had been notified that I was getting laid off after 20 years of devoted service, just so that Evil Corp could try and appease activist investors who demanded lower fixed over-head costs by letting go all of their experienced remote workers like myself, I had just finished practicing yoga at South Ponto Beach when I spotted this impressive osprey heading from the beach towards a high voltage utility poll near La Costa & the PCH, just next to the South Ponto parking lot.  Camera in hand, I took pictures for a solid 20 minutes as this successful apex predator enjoyed its lunch of fresh fish.  The fish was more than a foot long, and weighted enough that the osprey had to Really Exert Effort to fly with it to the pole.

I slowly walked up to within 100 feet of the base of the pole, snapping digital photos along the way.  A magnificent bird, eating a fresh meal.  Likely a juvenile who has not yet mated and built a nest to raise a family, or the meal would have been at the nest and not on the pole, above a busy intersection.

My hope is to resume yoga practice at the beach once my post-elbow- bursa-dissection surgery wound is fully healed.  That Might be December... but it also might be later in 2018 some time.  I do hope to see my neighbor the osprey again soon.

Analytics & Payroll loses to Talent & Drive

Congratulations to the Houston Astros for their victory in the 2017 MLB World Series game seven last night.  I live in Southern California, but I've not embraced the SD Padres as my "home team" yet, since I am a life-long Chicago Cubs fan.  The Cubs won last year...  after 108 years of trying... which apparently opened a trans dimensional portal that let a racist, xenophobic, ignorant, non-reading 10 year old in a 70 year old's carcass, with Vladimir Putin's direct assistance, become President of the United States.  The Cubs can wait another few dozen years before trying to win again - I don't want them to become the universally hated NY Yankees who have been to 40 of the 113 World Series (winning 27 of them).  The Houston Astros had never won a World Series, and it'd been 55 years since they were formed as a team...  so it was about time (even though I will ALWAYS think of the Astros as a National League team, as they've been the majority of my 1/2 century of life).

My actual Cub's hat, bought before they won the World Series in 2016

While the Houston Astros Did rely partly upon analytics, they had been drafting and recruiting some of the best players in major league baseball for years.  They wanted it.  They worked hard for it.  And their manager "could talk analytics all day long, but more often went with his gut and what the situation required" (I heard during Game 6's broadcast, Joe Buck saying it, I think).  The Brooklyn Dodgers... I mean LA Dodgers, paid millions of dollars for analytics, had The Largest payroll in all of MLB, were in the 2nd largest media market, but had worked out a despicable cable deal that MOST of the Dodgers home games Could Not Be Televised in LA when the stadium in Chavez Ravine that seats 56,000 was not sold out - the largest stadium in all of MLB, beating the damn Yankees by 3000 seats.  When the camera panned over the crowds during foul balls, you could see 1/3rd of the most expensive box seats showing EMPTY blue seat backs during Game Seven of the World Series!  EMPTY Seats!?!?  Wrigley Field only had empty seats during the World Series in 2016 from people using the bathroom, and it was < < much less than 5% of all box seats, even when some of those seats were going for $2000 each.

Thanks Jen for the gif!

So the Cubs had been the proverbial underdogs, and they won last year.  The Astros were the underdogs this year, and they won.  I'm a habitual under-dog supporter...  which I partially attribute to going to more than a dozen games at Wrigley as a kid (two of the three games I went to at Comiskey Park ended up with our vehicle being broken into... and the third one, my older brother and his friends picked up a Ford Escort and turned it 90 degrees onto the side walk so that our car would fit... they were very big boys).

Now,  you maybe asking yourself: "Why does JustJoeP oppose analytics so much?" Well, I credit that to my 20 years of working at one of the world's largest companies, where we made model after model to predict how the systems and components would perform in the field, how well they would be able to be repaired, how many times they could be repaired, when they'd need to be repaired, and when they would stop working for our customers.  It was Big Data, little data, good data, bad data. comprehensive data, partial data... and all that data was scrutinized by dozens of mathematics PhDs, data analysts, and engineers to come up with complex analytics that were supposed to add tremendous value, both for the company I worked for And for their customers.  Sadly, after more than a decade of trying to apply these analytics, revising and revising them, combing and scrutinizing the data and transfer functions repeatedly... the analytics Could Not Replace subject matter expertise; AKA experience.

Subject Matter Experts (SMEs) like myself were leveraged to make better models, sort & parse data, review repair reports, outage reports, customer issues, design reviews, root cause analysis... but no matter how hard we tried, and how many times we revised models, they still were far off the mark, much too conservative, or far too liberal, rarely ever accurate on predicting reality.  It was a Very Complex environment, with a very complex product and no two customers were the same or operated identically, that the analytic models Could Not Cope With the all of the Variation accurately - much like MLB!  Sure, if you start and stop very few times, and operate in a gingerly, gentle, non-stressful mode, the models worked marvelously!  But that was less than 5% of the all the customers, so the models and their predictions were virtually worthless in the big picture.   But saying that, admitting it publicly, was as deadly as saying that the Emperor had no clothes, when 99.997% of the sycophants had been telling the Emperor how amazing and awesome his clothes really were.

On a post-script, I do not and will not watch Wisdom of the Crowd as Crowds, by definition, are pretty emotional, stupid / ignorant / misinformed, reactionary, and prone to herd mentality.  Similarly, the same goes for the majority of analytics.  In limited applications, for narrow goals, Big Data Can Be useful, and perhaps partially accurate.  But in the Vast Majority of situations, applications, and concepts, data analytics usually don't have accurate predictions or reliable results.  Junk in = junk out.  Getting all the data "in" to be pristine, relevant, and representative of what is going to happen in the future is expensive, time consuming, and virtually impossible.  Anyone who tells you differently, is lying.

National Pine Cone Reserve

When I was a kid growing up in Highland Indiana, every year my parents worked diligently in preparing for our parish's "Christmas Bazaar" where arts and crafts and all sorts of Christmasy goods were sold to raise money for the church and school.  My mom would work with the volunteer ladies who made crafts.  My father would work throughout the year in his workshop in the basement, sawing, coping, gluing, clamping, painting various pieces of woodwork (bird houses, paper towel racks, etc).  Most of the goods had a Christmas theme to them, and wreaths, holly, and pine cones were common-place.

So imagine my surprise when I ascended the hill across the street from my home, and found the drainage culvert up there FILLED with beer-can sized pine cones!  As I walked further along the hill-side, I found hundreds, if not thousands of pine cones; many wheelbarrows worth of pine cones.  If mailing goods was cheaper than it is (I recently mailed a very light package to Chicago, via slow snail mail, and the postage costs were almost as much as the contents of the package!) I would send mass quantities of pine cones back to Highland so the church volunteer ladies could craft them into various & sundry Christmasy goods.  Also, geography conspires against us.

Torrey Pines Beach Yoga

Back in June, I drove Dr Desert Flower down to Otay Mesa so she could get a Fast Pass Global Entry and bypass the log immigration ICE lines that always exist when crossing into the U.S. from Mexico.  After I dropped her off at work, I stopped off at Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve, just off the PCH, with my State Park annual parking pass & yoga mat in hand.  It was a sunny day, when I parked at the beachside parking lot, and crossed the steep road that ascends up to the top of the Torrey Pines bluffs, located a mostly-flat spot that over looked the beach, and I rolled out my mat.  It was a new place in which I've never practiced yoga before.  I thought it would be a good morning.


Within about 10 minutes of beginning my practice, a thick marine layer began rolling in.  By "thick" I mean the 50 yards between the water's edge and I became occluded by mist to the point where I could no longer see the sea.  I could hear the waves... and the mist made me pretty damp and sticky, but I could not bask in the warm sun nor see the waves rolling in and crash on the beach.   (These were 3 to 4 foot waves, that made quite a crash, when they rolled in)

After more than 1/2 an hour in the wetting mist of the thick marine layer, I called it quits, rolled up my mat, and headed home.  (the gray backpack pictured here, was the last time it was usable... more on that in a future post).  It was interesting to note that the marine layer marched in from South to North.  Right Behind me, was a steep incline that lead up to the Torrey Pines bluffs, more than a 100 feet above where my mat and I were.  I could visibly see wisps of mist condensing as the wind drove the moist air against the cliffside and spiraled past me, within just a few minutes of taking this photo.

I'll practice there again, as it was scenic, natural, and inspiring... far better than any flatulence or sweat scented yoga studio.  Beach yoga studios are the kind of environment I call "my happy place".
= )