The irregular and disjointed rantings and ramblings of a lifelong inside-the-loop Houstonian, dedicated urbanist, enthusiastic traveler and loyal University of Houston Cougar fan, who also roots for the University of North Texas Mean Green.
Everything about this computer is loud: The groan of the power supply is loud. The hum of the cooling fan is loud. The whir of the hard disk is loud. The clack of the mechanical keyboard is loud. It’s so loud I can barely think, the kind of noise I usually associate with an airline cabin: whoom, whoom, whoom, whoom.
This is the experience a computer user would have had every time she booted up her Macintosh SE, a popular all-in-one computer sold by Apple from 1987 to 1990. By today’s standards the machine is a dinosaur. It boasts a nine-inch black-and-white display. Mine came with a hard disk that offers 20 megabytes of storage, but some lacked even that luxury. And the computer still would have cost a fortune: The version I have retailed for $3,900, or about $8,400 in 2019 dollars.
That’s a lot of money. It’s one of the reasons why computers weren’t as universal three decades ago as they are today, especially at home. In 1984, when the Macintosh first appeared, about 8 percent of U.S. homes had a computer; five years later, when the computer I’m writing on was sold, that figure had risen to a whopping 15 percent.
That made for a totally different relationship to the machine than we have today. Nobody used one every hour—many people wouldn’t boot them up for days at a time if the need didn’t arise. They were modest in power and application, clunking and grinding their way through family-budget spreadsheets, school papers, and games.
My family's first home computer was a Macintosh, which we acquired in the spring of 1985. The machine wasn't nearly as powerful as Bogost's SE: our Mac had 512k of RAM and no hard drive; everything was run from 3.5” floppy disks with 400k of storage. It was ridiculously primitive by today's standards, but its mouse-operated graphical user interface was an amazing upgrade from the Apple IIs we used at school. Friends and classmates alike would come over to my house just to marvel at the machine; we drew pictures with the MacPaint graphics software that came with the computer, played games, and drew primitive animations and created musical compositions with MacroMind's VideoWorks/MusicWorks suite. The word processing program, MacWrite, was originally only used by my father to write letters; eventually, I would start to use it to complete school assignments; which would be printed from a loud and bulky dot matrix printer.
There aren’t many programs worth running on this old machine, anyway. I installed Pyro, a popular screen saver of the era, and Klondike solitaire, as if I couldn’t distract myself with my iPhone instead. Even within the programs that made people spend money on computers, simplicity reigns. I’m writing in Microsoft Word 4.0, which was released for this platform in 1990. More sophisticated than MacWrite, Apple’s word processor, the program is still extremely basic—the only reason I chose Word was so I could open the file on my modern Mac to edit and file it.
There’s not much to report; it’s a word processor. A window displays the text I am typing, whose fonts and paragraphs I can style in a manner that was still novel in the 1980s. Footnotes, tables, and graphics are possible, but all I really need to do is produce words in order, a cruel reality that has plagued writers for millennia. Any program of this era would have afforded me the important changes computers added: moving an insertion point with the mouse, and seeing the text on-screen in a manner reasonably commensurate with how it would appear in print or online.
In fact, the only feature that’s missing, from a contemporary writer’s perspective, is the capacity to add hyperlinks. That idea had been around for a couple of decades by the time the Macintosh SE came out, but Tim Berners-Lee wouldn’t develop the first web browser until 1989, a year after this computer was manufactured and a year before this copy of Word was released. Of course, it doesn’t matter much, since I can’t go online with this machine (at least, not without adding a modem, and software that wouldn’t become available for another half decade or so).
Next to the overall lack of computing power compared to today's technology, the biggest difference between using a computer three decades ago and using a computer today is the lack of internet connectivity. It may have been possible to access some internet-related functions back in the 1980s, such as email, usenet groups or ftp sites, if one had the proper dial-up modem and provider; we certainly had no such connection. There was, therefore, no World Wide Web to browse, no messages to send and receive, no social media to obsessively check. The ubiquitous time suck that is today's internet connectivity - through our desktops, our laptops and our phones - simply did not exist. Quite frankly we were probably better of for it!
Even bracketing the welcome absence of the internet, with its hurtling notices and demands, the speed of this machine’s operation changes the tenor of my work. Computers used to be slow as hell. When I first got a 386 PC in the early 1990s, I would switch it on and leave the room for a while, so it could load the BIOS, then DOS, then Windows 3.1 atop it—hard disk grinding the whole time—until finally it was ready to respond to my keystrokes and mouse clicks.
The Macintosh SE I’m writing on now boots much faster than Windows ever did, but everything here is slow too. When I open a folder, the file icons all take shape like a color squad entering formation. Loading a program like Word issues a long pause, giving me enough time to view and read the splash screen—a lost software art that provided entertainment as much as feedback. Saving a file grinds the hard disk for noticeable moments, stopping me in my tracks while the cute watch icon spins.
Honestly, I had all but forgotten about the sound of the floppy disks grinding in their drives while I opened or saved a file until I read this passage. It was an omnipresent noise: the lack of available RAM mean that whatever program I was using oftentimes had to pause while it read operating instructions off the floppy disk. Using a computer definitely a more time-consuming undertaking back then, but I doubt I even noticed. Today's computing speeds were unthinkable back then, and the slower boot-ups and the constant grinding of the disks were just part of the experience.
The high-tech industry would characterize that act as an inconvenience, probably, imposed by the primitive technology of the past. Inevitably, in the hands of engineers and investors, the machines were bound to become faster, more powerful, more influential, more ubiquitous. And indeed they did, and now they are everywhere. My laptop is always on; my tablet is ever at the ready; my smartphone is literally in my actual hand except when I’m sleeping, if indeed I ever sleep instead of staring at it.
As I flick off the power switch on the back of the Macintosh, the whine retreats in a gentle diminuendo, until it finally gives way to silence. I have accomplished a feat that is no longer possible: My computing session has ended.
There were those on social media who criticized the defending champions for celebrating each goal, but Alex Morgan -- who became only the second American to score five in a World Cup match -- told reporters that "every goal counts."
Morgan, who comforted Thailand player Miranda Nild after the match, said it was important for the team to "continue to go" and score as many as they could in case goal difference would ever prove to be a factor in the group stages.
"We knew that every goal could matter in this group stage game and when it comes to celebrations this was a really good team performance and I think it was important for us to celebrate together," said the striker.
Alex Morgan, who bagged five goals in the mauling, was seen counting her goals on her fingers as she rattled them in.
Megan Rapinoe, playing her 154th game for USWNT and scoring her 45th goal, sprinted to the sidelines and indulged in a pre-planned celebration set piece as she scored the USA's ninth against the Thai part-timers.
Wilder celebrations followed — but so did accusations across the globe of classlessness, lack of sportsmanship and disrespect, most notably from USA's northern rivals, ex-Canadian national team stars Clare Rustad and Kaylyn Kyle.
"This was disgraceful for the United States," Rustad said. "I would have hoped they could have won with humility and grace, but celebrating goals eight, nine, 10 like they were doing was really unnecessary."
Kyle added: "I'm all about passion, but as a Canadian we would just never ever think of doing something like that.
"For me it's disrespectful, it's disgraceful. Hats off to Thailand for holding their head high on their first time on a World Cup stage."
The overwrought condescension coming from Rustad and Kyle aside (hey, maybe you should place better than fourth in the Women's World Cup before criticizing, eh?), the American ladies' celebration after each goal was nevertheless a source of controversy, and even former US star Hope Solo expressed discomfort with the nature of the celebrations:
It was tough for me to watch some of the US goal celebrations – which have come under criticism – considering the scoreline. You do want the game to be celebrated and you do want to see players having fun but at the same time I thought some of the celebrations were a little overboard. A few seemed planned out and I do know some players spend a lot of time thinking about celebrations for the fans. It’s not always necessary.
To be fair to Solo, she was critiquing the celebrating but defending the score itself; "[w]hen you respect your opponent you don’t all of a sudden sit back and try not to score," she wrote. ESPN's Graham Hays, for his part, wasn't buying any of the criticism, whether related to the score or the celebrating:
But to put blame on the United States ignores two obvious points. First, the Americans didn't make the rules under which the number of goals scored is part of deciding the outcome of the tournament. Goal differential counts. The U.S. women want to win its group. Unlike just about any other sport, the Americans have a vested interest in running up the score.
And second, it isn't the United States' fault it can't clear its bench. It is allowed three subs. It used three subs.
"If this is 10-0 in a men's World Cup, are we getting the same questions?" U.S. coach Jill Ellis asked after receiving repeated queries about the score. "I think a World Cup, it is about competing, it is about peaking, it is about priming your players ready for the next game."
But beyond that, why is it the obligation of the U.S. team to act in the interest of creating a picture of a falsely level playing field? Why shouldn't FIFA or the Asian Confederation get blamed for not doing more to promote the women's game in places where it lags behind?
Are we really going to blame players for celebrating a goal, in many cases in their first World Cup, instead of looking at the underlying reasons for the disparity in the first place?
This is a key point: at the international level, there isn't nearly as much parity for women's soccer as there is for the men's game. The Thai women have an interesting story, but the bottom line is that the nation of Thailand, like much of the world as a whole, fails to invest in, and develop, the women's game. Couple that with a Women's World Cup that only recently expanded from 16 teams to 24, thereby increasing the overall disparity of the teams participating, and results such as yesterday's shouldn't be especially surprising.
Therefore, I'm not particularly receptive to criticisms about the score itself. When you're playing in the World Cup, and you have an opportunity to score a goal... Well, you score a goal. Not only do the rules regarding goal differential essentially require it, but, in soccer, scoring opportunities are hard to come by and if you are to reach your full potential as a soccer player then you need to take advantage of those situations. Especially at the World Cup stage. Yesterday seven US players scored; for four of them, it was their first-ever goal at the World Cup. That's invaluable experience, and it creates confidence moving forward in the tournament. Furthermore, as somebody who has groused about the lack of offense in soccer in the past, I really can't get too upset about the rare instance wherein a team scores "too many" goals.
I'm a bit more sympathetic to criticisms regarding the way the women celebrated after each goal, if only because such behavior is generally frowned upon in sports as a whole. For example, in American Football there is no penalty for running up the score, but excessive celebration after a touchdown merits a 15-yard penalty (and, in the NFL, sometimes a fine). Did the USWNT need to celebrate their eleventh, twelfth or thirteenth goal against Thailand with as much enthusiasm as their first or second? Maybe not. Maybe a quick group high-five or half-raised fist pump would have been sufficient after goal eight or nine. But where do you draw that line? At what point is a team "required" to contain its excitement, especially at the World Cup stage?
Yahoo's Dan Wetzel argues that America's ladies have nothing to apologize for:
Finally, there were complaints the U.S. players shouldn’t have celebrated their goals because scoring was so easy.
Except, scoring a goal in the World Cup is never easy.
It might not have been difficult against Thailand in the second half, but that was just a single moment of the play. Just getting here required years and even decades of sacrifice and work from each and every American player (and their families, coaches and teammates through the years).
To score in the World Cup is an accomplishment any serious player dreams about. For Pugh, Lavelle, Horan and Mewis, these were their first-ever World Cup goals. To say they shouldn’t celebrate the accomplishment or suggest it holds less value due to the opponent is to dismiss all the blood, sweat and tears it took to get here.
Yes, the game was a massacre, but that’s what happens sometimes in sports. These American women aren’t here to go easy on anyone. They aren't here to consider hurt feelings. That would be insulting to everyone involved.
They are here to win and they’ll inspire a generation of girls around the globe by playing exactly how they did on Tuesday: full-throttle, unapologetic and with both power and creativity.
They played the beautiful game, beautifully. It was something to behold, not condemn.
It's been exactly ten years since I wrote this post, which means that's it's been exactly twenty years since I began employment at the City of Denton and thus entered the "real world." At the time I wrote said post, I opined that things had generally gone well for me over my first decade as a productive member of society - I was married, with a kid, and a mortgage and a full-time job - I and expressed hope that "the next few decades are as interesting and fun as the last one has been."
Alas, not long after I wrote that post, the "real world" would smack me down in a big way. Within a year of that post, I would be divorced, I would no longer be a homeowner, and I would be virtually unemployed as a lack of billable work would require me to take a temporary leave of absence from my job. Shortly thereafter, cancer would unexpectedly claim the life of one of my best friends, and I myself would end up in the hospital for the first time in my life.
It was, all in all, a humbling experience.
In an attempt to get my life back on track, I would then make a few less-than-ideal decisions - jumping into a relationship with somebody who, while being a good-hearted person in general, would turn out to be simply not the right person for me in particular, and moving in with her to a rental in an expensive neighborhood that I really couldn't afford by myself after she moved out - that set me back even further. A subsequent attempt to forge a relationship with an old high school interest was also ill-advised; a reminder that one cannot live in the past.
To my credit, I made some better-considered decisions as well; most importantly, I changed employers at the beginning of 2013. This decision has worked out well for me, personally and professionally. I also, eventually, found somebody perfectly suited for me; Corinne and I have been together for almost four years and I'm excited to give the marriage thing another try with her next year. Buying a house is also in our future, once finances permit. To that end, I've paid off the debts I've incurred while living in Bellaire, and am gradually adding back to my savings.
The "real world" creates setbacks sometimes. But I've moved on.
I figure that I am now roughly halfway through the productive, wage-earning phase of my life. I'd love to retire sooner rather than later, of course, and I do have various IRAs and 401ks that are slowly but surely accruing value. But with a house purchase hopefully! in Corinne and my future and a son who is four years away from college, retirement is something that is not happening anytime soon.
One thing I really need to do over the next decade is look after my health a bit better. I've really put on the pounds over the past decade. Corinne's going to be pretty pissed at me if I drop dead of a heart attack right after she marries me, so I should probably take some steps to ensure that doesn't happen!
Parisian bridges are weighted down with copycat "love locks," while visitors crowd cheek-to-jowl into Barcelona churches and Dubrovnik's historic center. In Italy, attempts to manage the impact of tourism range from segregating visitors to fines for flip-flops. As a glut of anxious headlines document overtourism, it's easy to think that the planet is simply full.
But stray from the well-worn tourist trails, and you'll discover another travel story entirely. In much of the world, there are places that are eager to welcome tourists -- and when practiced sustainably, where tourism can even help alleviate poverty.
The contrast between the most- and least-visited places is stark. In 2017, nearly 87 million international tourists arrived in France. That same year, a mere 2,000 international tourists visited the South Pacific country of Tuvalu, where it's easy to find a beach -- or even an entire island -- to yourself.
Based on the most recent data (PDF) compiled by the United Nations World Tourism Organization, this list reflects many of the world's least-visited countries and overseas territories, where you'll find gorgeous natural beauty, culture and history without pushing through a thicket of selfie sticks.
I completely understand the tourist-related problems of Dubrovnik, Venice, and Santorini, where we found ourselves packed into narrow streets with other visitors. (Of course, the fact that we were tourists in these places - off of cruise ships, no less - meant that we were part of the problem.) The thing I like about the idea of visiting under-the-radar destinations is that you can actually be part of the solution, rather than the problem, by pumping money into these economies (as long as your trip is done sustainably).
What's interesting about CNN's list of the 25 least-visited countries (which actually contains only twenty sovereign nations; the other five are dependencies of other countries, even if they have some measure of autonomy) is that many of them are also among the twenty-five smallest independent countries that I want to visit before I die, including Tonga, Tuvalu, Kirabati, and São Tomé and Príncipe. That stands to reason, because the world's tiniest, most obscure countries would also see the fewest visitors. (Two of the nations on CNN's list - Lichtenstein and St. Kitts and Nevis - are ones I've already visited and checked off of my list.)
My goal remains visit these countries, although I know it won't be easy getting to many of them. There's also the paradox that countries with few tourists probably don't have a lot of tourist infrastructure. I'll need to do my research before I visit some of these places.
The ending of Game of Thrones was pretty much the most disappointing finale I've ever watched. (I've been underwhelmed by series finales before, but this one was especially unsatisfying.)
Muchhasbeenwrittenabout the series' unsatisfactory ending, but this video kind of sums everything up for me:
Aside from the fact that the ending of the series left so many questions unanswered, many of the plot "resolutions" delivered by the finale were difficult to believe.
Let's start with Bran becoming king. Maybe that was what George R. R. Martin envisioned, and perhaps his reasoning will be better explained in the books (if and when he ever gets around to completing them), where Bran's character is apparently more central to the story than it was in the TV series. But his character's story in the TV series, where he does little more than stare at people, warg into ravens and get Hodor killed (Bran didn't even appear at all in one of the series' seasons), simply doesn't suggest that he has any business becoming king of Westeros. It's hard for longtime fans to accept.
It's also hard to accept the way that Bran got to be king, which was the result of a decision by a council of Westerosi lords and ladies that miraculously convened outside of King's Landing after Daenerys's death. This council was, in a matter of minutes, able to resolve all of the struggles, wars and intrigue that Westeros had experienced over the previous several years by simply replacing the continent's hereditary monarchy with an elective one (those never work, by the way, and will probably just make things worse in the long run). They made this decision based on nothing more than an impassioned soliloquy by Tyrion (who was supposed at the council to be judged for his crime of disobeying Dany, rather than to chart a new political course for Westeros).*
And don't even get me started on Jon, who somehow is not summarily executed by Grey Worm, the rest of the Unsullied, or the remaining Dothraki** for murdering Daenerys, but is rather sentenced to be returned to the Night's Watch (which no longer has a reason for existing) for his crime. The huge plot reveal that he was the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen served no purpose after all.
The fact is, the entire final season (not just the finale) was pretty much a disaster. It was rushed and contrived, and the character development that had made the series so great over the years was simply tossed aside.
For example, I didn't have a problem with Daenerys's descent into villainy. It follows age-old themes regarding the corruptive nature of power or the idea that well-intentioned tyranny is still tyranny. I did have a problem with how it was manifested. Whether Dany's decision to turn King's Landing into Dresden was the result of emotionally-deranged genocidal madness or a ruthless calculation to destroy the seat of Westerosi power and send a message to the other lords of the continent, the writers simply did not justice to her character's turn. Jaime's decision to return to Cersei after his one-night-stand with Brienne (a regrettably unnecessary and gratuitous hookup, by the way) was similarly hollow.
Perhaps it was inevitable that the series would degrade the further it got from George R. R. Martin's source material (a viral Twitter thread from a professor of philosophy at UConn explains this situation). And it was certainly a bad decision to shorten the last two seasons, as it gave the creators less "real estate" to work with. In the rush to bring everything to a close with as much spectacle as possible, the series forgot what it was all about.
The bottom line is that Game of Throne's creators, David Benihoff and Dan Weiss, spent the first six seasons painting a masterpiece of lavish character development, intriguing plot twists, and compelling storytelling. Then they spent the seventh season vandalizing it with spray paint, and spent the eight season shitting all over it. It's a very disappointing ending that will forever tarnish the legacy of what was once the best show on television.
* Also, when Sansa made the declaration that The North would opt out of the Bran-led kingdom, Yara Greyjoy should have done the same for the Iron Islands and Nameless Dornish Guy should have done the same for Dorne. Those three kingdoms were always culturally and structurally different from the core of Westeros (i.e. Westerlands, Crownlands, Stormlands, Riverlands, Vale and Reach) and seeing all three of them fall out would have reinforced the idea of a new political era for Westeros. This was a huge miss on the part of the writers. ** We were led to believe that almost all of the Dothraki died in the Battle of Winterfell, but apparently there were plenty of them left to overrun Kings Landing. This was one of the many continuity failures of the final season of the series.
Hard to believe that Thursday was Kirby's last day of eighth grade. His mom and I attended his promotion ceremony at Lanier Middle School and took some pictures afterward:
He'll be heading on to high school this fall. The "Beast" is growing up!
Texas Gov. Greg Abbott has signed a bill creating a medical school at the University of Houston amid concerns about a physician shortage in the state.
Under the legislation signed into law Wednesday, the University of Houston's College of Medicine will be the 13th medical school in Texas. It will be based in the UH System's flagship campus in Houston. Nearly half of the Texas medical schools are in the Houston area.
On Thursday, Abbott described UH as on the way to being "one of the world's preeminent universities." He said he plans to do a ceremonial signing of the bill in Houston.
“The University of Houston continues to cement itself as a top tier University, and I was proud to sign HB 826 into law establishing the University Of Houston College Of Medicine," Abbott said in a statement. "As Governor, I have pledged to elevate Texas’ institutions of higher education and this bill furthers that goal."
My understanding is that the only hurdle remaining for UH Med is approval from the Liaison Committee on Medical Education. If that happens, the college would enroll its first students in the fall of 2020. Stay tuned.
A couple of Fridays ago, Corinne and I went to the lawn at the White Oak Music Hall to see CHVRCHES. It was a good concert at a nice venue that I'll need to visit more often.
Not too much to report form the concert itself. The synth-pop trio from Glasgow played most of their better-known songs; keyboardist Martin Doherty even took over from foul-mouthed frontwoman Lauren Mayberry to sing a couple of tunes. The back-and-forth chatter between band members between songs was just as entertaining as the songs themselves.
The set was rather short, at 15 songs total, and left out a couple of my favorites, including "Gun" and "Lies." My biggest complaint wasn't that, but rather the Gen Z douchebags standing in front of us who were more interested in talking over the songs than watching the show. Such is the nature of outdoor festival-type concerts such as these.
Otherwise no complaints. the late-spring evening was perfect for an outdoor concert. The lawn at WOMC is a small and comfortable space to watch the show. The lines for drinks were short, and a couple of food trucks handled eating options (although they probably could have used one or two more). I have no complaints about acoustics or sightlines.
We didn't try to drive and park, but rather took the METRORail Red Line up from Midtown, got off at Quitman Station, and made the short walk to the venue. I would recommend this option for getting there, if you are able to do so.
The Houston Press review, including the setlist, is here.
Local public transportation advocate and former METRO Board member Christof Spieler recently spoke to the Kinder Institute at Rice regarding "myths, misconceptions and facts" about transit in Houston. Here's one topic that resonated with me:
Myth: “Nobody walks in Houston or the climate in Houston is too bad for anyone to be able to walk.”
"Those two [weather conditions and walking] are obviously not the case," Spieler said. "I think people overestimate the importance of climate in these cases. There are cities that have very tough winters and they do transit very well. If you want to compare a summer in Houston vs. a winter in Minneapolis, I don’t think Houston summer heat is a much worse climate than a Minneapolis winter."
Minneapolis, which has an annual snowfall of 55 inches and winter temperatures in the teens, is one of the few American cities that have experienced increases in public transportation ridership. A part of that increase is credited toward thousands of parking spots being lost in downtown Minneapolis in recent years.
Further, Houston has also seen gains in public transportation ridership in recent years, thanks in part to a 2015 bus route redesign and the introduction of additional light rail.
Obvious fact: this city's climate can be brutal for pedestrians, cyclists and transit users during the daytime hours in the summer months (which, in Houston, last from mid-May to late October). Houston's not unique in that regard; there are conditions that are challenging to pedestrian, bicycle and transit activity in every climate, as Christof's examples from Minneapolis imply.
That's no excuse.
Too many people (including local bloggers who are smart enough to know better, which is why I no longer read or link to them) still use the "but it's soooooo hot" pretext as to why Houston shouldn't spend its time or money improving its transit services, or improving access to transit (or active transportation in general) through better sidewalks or high-quality bicycle facilities. It's a bullshit, purposefully-defeatist argument that puts too much emphasis on temporary personal comfort and ignores the fact that for the vast majority of the time Houston has a perfectly comfortable climate.
But taking this a step further: this argument is, perversely, a reason for better transit service (as well as better access to transit through better bike/ped connections). Walking to and waiting for a bus in the August afternoon might be a brutal experience for most Houstonians today. But imagine that, even during that August afternoon, you can walk no more than a quarter-mile (i.e. a five-minute walk) to a transit stop, and along that walk there are easy-to-provide amenities such as shade trees along sidewalks and non-reflective pavement that make things just a little bit less brutal. Then, once you get to the bus stop or train station (which provides a shade canopy from the sun as well as a bench to sit), your wait is no less than ten or fifteen minutes (i.e. the generally-recognized minimum headway for "frequent" service) until the next transit service arrives. You get into the air-conditioned vehicle, and off you go.
All of a sudden, that trip gets a lot less "brutal," doesn't it? And this is during the heat of the day; it doesn't address the average morning or evening during Houston's long summer, which is perfectly walkable if not humid.
Christof is correct: people overestimate the importance of climate, and underestimate the ways in which we can combat that climate by providing comfortable (and ADA-accessible!) access to transit, as well as the frequency and coverage of that transit service itself. Let's quit making excuses and give this city the pedestrian, bicycle and transit infrastructure that it deserves.
(Oh and by the way: as bad as Houston's climate can be, I'll take "hot and sweaty" over "trip over snowbanks and slip and fall on ice patches" anytime.)
