hyphenated -

the techvolution continues

Preface
Hyphenated celebrated it's one year anniversary last Sunday without much fanfare or, unfortunately, cake. I suppose that the Go Daddy automatic renewal email for my domain could be considered an e-card, albeit a really lame one. In any case, the least I can do to mark the date is dedicate a blog post to the milestone. It's belated, partly because I was hosting a third (and final, for now) consecutive set of visitors and spent Sunday touring Alcatraz, but here it is.

♻♻♻
 Just over a year ago, my first post listed some of the reasons I started a blog. All of the reasons still apply a year later, especially the one related to keeping in touch with family. Still no sign of my parents on Facebook or Twitter. Knowing that my grandmother will read this makes me smile. I also still envision the blog as a creative outlet. I try to write posts that are extensions of my thoughts and voice, and I resist the urge to use Posterous as a simple way to share photos and online content without any value added beyond the title. The goal of keeping it interesting remains important too. 

In addition to the reasons for starting the blog are the reasons to continue blogging. The great feeling that comes from a friend saying that they're reading and enjoying my blog and enjoying it is one. While many don't post comments, I get direct personal feedback that means a lot to me. Storytelling is another unforeseen aspect of blogging that appeals to me. So many of the posts that resonate, with me and my audience, include stories. Whether they be from my childhood or last weekend, I really enjoy telling stories and the blog is a great way to share them.

Looking back, the blog was my initial independent foray into unknown online territory. Given the developments of the last year and living in what seems to be the center of the technology universe, I haven't stopped exploring. When friends come to visit me in San Francisco, I show them around the city and I give them a tour of my iPhone apps. I usually end up talking a lot about FourSquare tips and trending locations. The techvolution continues.
♻♻♻

Postscript
Seeing as it's April 22nd, a blog post isn't complete without some Earth Day content:

Filed under  //   family & friends   science & technology   sustainability  

Comments [3]

the california coast

Sometimes, pictures are worth a thousand words. A drive down the coast from San Francisco is usually one of those times. Last weekend was no exception. Fresh strawberries, salty air, scallop tacos, good friends. Enough said... I'll let the pictures do the rest of the talking.

                                 
Click here to download:
the_california_coast.zip (6717 KB)

Comments [1]

cake chute

Not unlike making the realization that you've totally misunderstood the lyrics to a song is the discovery that you've been saying a word or phrase wrong for years without realizing it. In recent years, I've learned that jibe (not jive) refers to things that are in accord, the saying is "for all intents and purposes" (not "all intensive purposes"), and, most recently, that it's crapshoot (not crap chute):

crapshoot |ˈkrapˌ sh oōt|
noun
a crap game.
informal a risky or uncertain matter : predicting any extreme weather event is a scientific crapshoot.

Despite being thankful that I'm no longer referring to "a lively style of dance popular esp. in the 1940s and 1950s" in the context of non-organic pork not agreeing with me due to migraines, I was attached to the mental imagery that accompanied crap chute. The dice and green felt alternative will take some getting used to.

That said, the idea of life being equated to a chute that could potentially end in a pile of manure seemed unreasonably harsh, especially given my tendency towards optimism. When I was recently talking to someone about all the uncertainty inherent in making big decisions, the crap chute metaphor (before the correct term was brought to my attention) was employed to describe life. I suggested thinking about it as a cake chute as a more positive conceptualization. If well thought through, life-altering decisions rarely end utterly horribly, in a pile of figurative crap. The various potential outcomes may be different, but none are necessarily bad. Like chocolate and vanilla in my cake chute imaginings. Or angel food. Or carrot. All different, but all good. Maybe the carrot cake has cream cheese icing, which makes it slightly better.

Comments [2]

mmmaple syrup

My morning routine has changed quite drastically since moving to San Francisco. The change has less to do with being unemployed (a combination of volunteer/intern work and personal projects provides motivation to get up at a reasonable hour) and more to do with having an iPhone. 

Previously, I would wake up to the sound of CBC radio 1 emanating from my circa-1992 radio alarm clock and I'd lay in bed for awhile listening to the day's top stories and the weather (and get annoyed by Rick Cluff's tendency to trivialize and patronize). Now, I roll over, take my iPhone off the nightstand (the radio alarm clock was deemed obsolete) and check my email, scan Twitter and Facebook, peruse the NYT headlines, and check the weather... in four cities: San Francisco, Vancouver, and Montreal. 

Despite being severely lacking in detail and featuring obscure icons (what exactly should I expect when presented with an icon of the sun from which rain is failing without any clouds in the picture?), the weather app for the iPhone allows me to get a sense of what the weather is like in the places I feel connected to. 

Most days, the comparison brings a smile to my face because the weather in SF tops that in the other cities (I've been warned that this will change come summer) but other days, like today, the weather also brings back memories as I conjure up past experiences that I associate with the time of year depicted by the forecast.

Along with remembering soggy walks to work in Vancouver, I thought about maple syrup this morning. Today's forecast in Montreal is perfect for sugaring off (which takes place in the rural areas around Montreal, including my hometown, Hemmingford). Warm days combined with nights where the mercury drops below freezing gets the sweet sap running. 

My parents tapped some of the maple trees around our house for a few years, getting enough sap to distill down to a decent amount of syrup. I remember tramping around the woods, stomping in the patches of remaining snow, peeking into the pails to see if any sap had accumulated, and occasionally taking sips to taste the slightly sweet liquid that dripped so slowly from the trees. John had built an outdoor oven of sorts with a trough on the top for making syrup. We'd pour the sap into the trough and it would boil down to leave the delicious auburn syrup. We'd all sit around the oven, soaking in the spring sun (believe me, 8°C feels downright balmy after a few months temperatures averaging between -10 and -25°C) and keeping the fire burning. I can only imagine that I might have asked "is it ready yet?" enough to be considered annoying.

After a few years, perhaps after the novelty had warn off, my family stopped making our own maple syrup. Instead, we would help friends with their much larger, commercial syrup operation in exchange for cans of the dark, thick, smoky syrup that isn't considered high quality by supermarket shoppers. The dark stuff might not look so pretty, but it's very tasty.

We kids would help to some extent, handing empty cans from the box to the person operating the canning machine or dragging wood inside to fuel the boiler, but we largely played in the heat of the shanty. Play powered by massive sugar highs because doing quality control (i.e., drinking maple syrup straight up) was another way that the children helped.

This morning, I added some maple syrup to sweeten and flavor my yogurt and granola. The syrup was produced at the shanty where I used to 'help' and was given to us as a wedding gift by the friends who make it. Knowing where it came from and the simple, organic way it is produced, this maple syrup is especially tasty. 

Now, I'm going to take advantage of the beautiful weather (and being unemployed) by going for a walk this afternoon.

Filed under  //   family & friends   food   Quebec & Montreal   San Francisco   Vancouver  

Comments [3]

shelf life

Bees, spiders, and expired food. These are a few of my least favorite things. More like greatest fears, actually. 

I've never had food poisoning, but somehow I became very risk averse when it comes to consuming food products when the date permanently branded into the packaging corresponds to yesterday or earlier. I once ate chunky milk accidentally, when pouring cereal in the dark in an effort to avoid disturbing my roommates (I was up for an early class). While the taste was disgusting enough to spark a gag reflex, I wasn't ill as a result. The sour milk incident of 1999 transpired well after my fear of expired food had developed, so I can't attribute my double-checking of expiry dates to chewing my milk that time.

In the past, I often discarded food automatically based on the expiration date, despite knowing that the dates aren't necessarily hard and true (as pointed out humorously by Jerry Seinfeld and the comic I've included below). Just to be safe.

In more recent years, I've tried to be more rational about how I react to dates on packaging. For instance, if the date on the yogurt container is in the past but there is no mould or foul smell, I'll eat it (this was a big step for me). Less waste is a good thing. 

When I noticed that we had just under half a gallon of milk in the fridge on February 17th and the date on the jug read February 16, I tweeted. 

After the sour milk incident, drinking it straight up was not my first choice even though it didn't smell bad. But I didn't want to dump it either. So I baked. Cinnamon rolls and rice pudding (of course, I used real maple syrup for the latter). Win win: milk not wasted and yummy homemade edibles. 

Filed under  //   food  

Comments [2]

compare and contrast

My parents are coming to visit from Montreal (et environs) tomorrow! I'm excited to tour around San Francisco together while they enjoy a respite from the cold and snow and, undoubtedly, compare this city to their hometown. When visiting a new place, it seems like human nature to construct an impression based on the familiar. Indeed, having had a few months to explore this city I find myself subconsciously comparing it to the other cities in which I've lived. 

My preliminary conclusion is that San Francisco is a nice hybrid of Vancouver and Montreal. It has a west coast vibe but also the artsy, cultured, historical elements of Montreal. Using a food simile (the best kind of simile, if you ask me), Vancouver is like a lightly-dressed salad while Montreal is like shepherd's pie (or, as the Québecois refer to it, pâté chinois). And San Francisco is like shepherd's pie and lightly dressed salad, together in a tortilla, à la burrito. Yum (assuming that the beef is pasture-raised and organic, of course).

I don't seem to be the only person comparing San Francisco to Montreal. I came across this blog post, in which the author postulates that historic Montreal and San Francisco bear many geographical similarities based on these two photos:

   
Click here to download:
compare_and_contrast.zip (381 KB)

Among the many differences that the blogger fails to note is that, with the exception of Mount-Royal, Montreal is way flatter than San Francisco. Google should include contour lines for its maps of San Francisco, or at least advise when walking will suddenly transition to stair-climbing.

 

Filed under  //   Quebec & Montreal   San Francisco   Vancouver  

Comments [2]

green police

In case you missed it, VW/Audi aired a really great ad during the Super Bowl as part of its 'Green Police' marketing campaign.


Despite some of the, um, issues with its name (which I only discovered when trying to find a link to the ad and finding this), the campaign is genius. By relying on humour, VW managed to do what a lot of sustainability-related messaging doesn't: present viable ways to reduce one's environmental impacts without being preachy and patronizing or dull and depressing.

Unfortunately, many PSAs and other communications with environmental messages tend to be preachy (thou shalt not drive an SUV because it is the right thing to do and not doing so is presumably wrong/evil/immoral...) or depressing (thou shalt not drive an SUV because polar bears are drowning/sea levels are rising/pine beetles are devastating forests...). Although the goal of these types of ads is to change behaviour, my sense is that they make people feel bad for doing something that they've already done and give the impression that it's too late to remedy the situation that has resulted or that remedying the situation is beyond their control. It's too late. The damage has been done. So why change? Furthermore, even if this form of communication succeeded in motivating people to change, alternative choices or clear solutions to facilitate the change are often missing from the message.

In contrast, the VW ad conveys that the status quo is bad (i.e., change is good) while suggesting that change is obviously easy. None of the charges laid by the green police in the ad were for behaviours that are difficult to modify. All the charges could have been simply avoided: don't use plastic bags (implied: use paper or reusable bags), don't use incandescent bulbs (implied: use compact fluorescent), don't use disposable coffee cups (implied: use a reusable mug), etc. And, given the comical nature of the ad, all of these solutions were presented in a way that made the audience feel happy, not shamed or depressed. 

Clearly, the primary goal of the VW campaign is to sell more cars (public transit and bicycles were noticeably absent in the ad). Nonetheless, I think that that the core environmental message was a good one that might inspire more people to embrace more sustainable choices as compared to traditional eco-campaigns. I hope to see more environmental communication in this vein... Change is good.

Filed under  //   sustainability  

Comments [0]

learning to program through osmosis

There are times when I wish learning by osmosis was less dream and more reality. Studying for exams is probably the circumstance where I wished this the most (you know: step 1 - place textbook under pillow, step 2 - sleep, step 3 - wake up refreshed the next morning knowing the contents of all 14 chapters and the glossary, step 4 - ace exam). But I've also fantasized about learning by osmosis when it came to developing some basic web design and programming skills. Before I mislead you into thinking that I developed a way to do just that, the closest I've gotten to living the dream is by moving to San Francisco, being unemployed, and living with four YC alumni.

I've created some websites in the past using WYSIWYG editors. I won't be posting links to them here because they're, well, ugly. At the time, I didn't have time to learn enough HTML and CSS to do away with Dreamweaver and tables and all of their inherently frustrating limitations.

In contrast, when I arrived in SF I had time. Lots and lots of time. And I had a premise for a site. And I was surrounded by guys and their Macbooks and their nearly constant creativity. Not only were they creating things, they were creative in the sense that creativity is synonymous with innovation, initiative, enterprise, and resourcefulness. And I was inspired. I bought a domain.

After asking my roommies a few questions, I concluded that I was starting so close to knowing nothing about web development that perusing the results of Google searches would suffice as my guide. Sensei Google. I borrowed an O'Reilly book, but found myself returning to Google for tidbits of assistance (with a background in biology, most of my time with the O'Reilly book was spent speculating on what the species of fish was on the cover... salmon, in case you're also curious).

I began by mocking stuff out in Photoshop by following a few online tutorials. One of my roommies was hosting a houseguest who worked as a graphic designer, and he shared a few tips and tricks. I played with colours and wondered aloud why Photoshop tools were so counter-intuitive. Needless to say, the ++Z keys got a lot of use. 

Once I had a better idea of what the site would look like, got some feedback from a graphic designer friend, and determined the extent of the site's functionality, I debated whether I should learn Ruby on Rails (the language of choice around here) for the backend. Ultimately, I decided to create a custom theme for Wordpress (despite being warned that Wordpress could be a nightmare). Enter more tutorials.

I started with a template from a tutorial and started modifying it. Trial and error was the name of the game. I came to appreciate that the method isn't called "trail and flawless" - there was a lot of error. Starting with the CSS in a TextEdit window, I made changes, saved, and refreshed. And I did that again and again and again. For awhile, I would enter #000000 and expect white to appear. I then realized that, because the absence of all light/color is black, the nomenclature actually made sense. I got pretty far just by editing the CSS, but reached a point where I couldn't ignore the HTML any longer. 

More trial, more error. I'd think that I was on the right track, then I'd make a change, save, refresh, and (fingers crossed) ... error. I began to understand more of the nomenclature. I developed a love-hate, or rather hate-love, relationship with semicolons (hating them when one was missing and the structure of the page suddenly collapsed in a heap of div rubble and loving them when inserting one would miraculously fix everything). When trying to float divs, I found myself envisioning the position of lily-pads in a pond. Eventually, I got to the point where I would make a change in the code and was no longer surprised that the desired change would materialize in the browser window. The code made sense and I was able to appreciate that the code I was using as template was inelegant and inefficient. The experience was analogous to learning the basics of a foreign language using a textbook only to discover that the textbook was poorly written.

Then came Wordpress. Kevin graciously set up the server side of things and I began the process of integration. The tutorial was less than helpful, but I followed it to the best of my limited abilities. Ultimately, Kevin helped me navigate the intersection of HTML and PHP. More trial. More error. But I was learning. As a result, I have a website: www.amerishock.com

It's not perfect, but it's far from fail and it's mine. The design is mine. The underlying structure (minus the Wordpress code) is mine. The idea is mine. And, most importantly, I learned to program. Admittedly, what I learned was very basic but it can still be classified as learning.

While it wasn't learning by osmosis, the learning process was relatively friction-free. Being immersed in a culture where spending hours at home staring into the glowing screen of a laptop is seen as creative and productive, rather than antisocial, makes it easy to put in the time and effort needed to learn to code. And if you already code, I can't help but conclude that living in SF can only be good for productivity. Sharing an apartment with YC alumn can't hurt, either.

Filed under  //   San Francisco   science & technology  

Comments [4]

rien n’arrete nos espirits

Reading about and seeing pictures of the earthquake aftermath in Haiti is devastating. I can't even fathom how hellish it must be there right now. And I can't imaging the helplessness Haitians living outside Haiti must be feeling, not knowing the fate of their family and friends on the island. I find myself thinking of the large Haitian population in Montreal. According to StatCan:

...the large majority of Canadians of Haitian origin live in Montreal. In 2001, 83% of Canada’s Haitian community made Montreal their home. That year, there were almost 70,000 Canadians of Haitian descent living in Montreal, where they made up 2% of the metropolitan area’s overall population.

The video for Arcade Fire's song, Haiti, is particularly moving as it showcases images from Haiti that depict the country's poverty, but also the strength and spirit of the Haitian community.

And the lyrics to the song are so powerful, especially when interpreted in the context of the devastation caused by the earthquake:

Haiti, mon pays,
wounded mother I’ll never see.
Ma famille set me free.
Throw my ashes into the sea.

Mes cousins jamais nes
hantent les nuits de Duvalier.
Rien n’arrete nos espirits.
Guns can’t kill what soldiers can’t see.

In the forest we are hiding,
unmarked graves where flowers grow.
Hear the soldiers angry yelling,
in the river we will go.

Tous les morts-nes forment une armee,
soon we will reclaim the earth.
All the tears and all the bodies
bring about our second birth.

Haiti, never free,
n’aie pas peur de sonner l’alarme.
Tes enfants sont partis,
in those days their blood was still warm

As an aside, note the french pronunciation of the country's name (as per the second line of the song)... Ha-EE-Ti versus Hate-Ti.

Filed under  //   books & art  

Comments [0]

the common bond between worms in SF and cassettes

No soil or earth of any kind is allowed into the United States without a permit issued in advance by USDA Plant Protection and Quarantine Permit Unit
(U.S. Customs and Border Protection

USDA permits were not my top priority leading up to our move to San Francisco. As a result, I had to leave my plants and the vermicomposter behind in Vancouver. Most of the plants were left in the care of my cousin and the worms were adopted by Miss Maggie. I miss them all (the plants, the worms, my cousin, and Maggie).

In San Francisco, I have yet to acquire new plants (with the exception of this, which I might need to dedicate a blog post to in the future) or a vermicomposter. While I intend to add some flora to spruce up (hehe) our apartment this spring, I won't be procuring any non-arthropod invertebrate fauna. 

Given my success with the vermicomposter in Vancouver, I wouldn't hesitate to set up a new bin if I were looking for a sustainable way to dispose of my food waste. But I'm not. To my delight, organics are collected curb-side, along with recycling and trash, in San Francisco. The worms have been rendered obsolete [1].

Our building has a green cart in the basement and I've set up a small organics bin in our apartment, alongside the recycling and the trash, lined with compostable bags and labeled ".compost". Cute, right? Okay, maybe it's just geeky, but I couldn't resist.

[1] Nope, the title of the post has nothing to do with tapeworms (thankfully), in case that's what you might have been initially thinking.

Filed under  //   San Francisco   sustainability  

Comments [0]