Forget Me Not

Our barista forgot my order again. I hate to be forgotten and wanted to be mad. But then I had to remember that the coffee was free. So I poured my own drip coffee and stormed out of the lunch room. I didn't want all that sweet foamy gunk anyway.

iPhone Yahoos

People connecting their iPhones with Yahoo! Business email accounts found they could no longer send email as of Thursday. Yahoo seems to be trying out new imap servers exclusively for iPhone and while free accounts continued to work okay, business accounts required manually changing settings to pop and smtp port 25, password authentication. Unless you just want to listen, then sit still with imap.

HR of Darkness

If blogs are the new resumes, why are headhunters not filling my answering machine with urgent inquiries?

Darker Than The Coal Mines

I have less than 15 hours before the darkness resumes. If only the anticipation of those black hours did not extend the pain. Hope is what allows most of us to survive our jobs, but I can't see the future anymore. And that's what makes this work so black.

Biggs Breakfast

Driving the Columbia Gorge, there is approximately an hour that I am out of contact of any civilized radio stations. Today this gave me a chance to regain an appreciation of the Japanese band Number Girl. McDonald's coffee is suppose to be better but it was just as burned as always. Burned coffee to wash down discordant Japanese screams.

Dialectical Egoism

I've been waiting for articles like The Rise of American Incompetence to start arriving. But Daniel Gross infers that international contempt towards American management is a recent phenomenon. Nonsense. The level of respect from both inside and outside the U.S. was much lower in the 80s and early 90s. American business climbed out of that morass thanks to Harvard professors who mapped new lexicons on top of Japanese management practices then peddled the ideas as their own.

Our economy is in for some pretty tough times but it is not a collapse of the tech bubble, stock market bubble, housing, subprime, or asset bubbles from which we need to recover. It is a bubble of hubris of which Daniel Gross's Slate article is just an early indicator of an impending and long overdue implosion.

IT Interview

I've heard this story many times, the dispirited American tech trainer tries in vain to engage a roomful of stoic Japanese engineers then watches in bewilderment when, as soon as class disengages, those same engineers become animated with the kind of bluster you find in any IT room in the world. An important purpose of this banter is to signal and scrutinize each other's level of expertise like dial-up modems attempting to arrive at a mutually compatible speed with which to communicate. A component of discovery, i.e. evaluating each other's expertise level, exists to some extent within the communication of every domain, but it comprises a larger share and thus is more overt in the information technology field. Unfortunately, there seems to be no universal protocol recognized worldwide for this important component of technical conversations, no IEEE standard for geek BS. Japanese engineers use a synchronous discourse comprised of carefully crafted questions designed to trap the poser in a corner. Americans, on the other hand, converse asynchronously, unremittingly broadcasting their bravado. Stereotypes such as the belligerent arrogance of the French, the servile arrogance of Indians, the incessant banalities of Americans, are all manifestations of our incompatible local protocols, and the primary reason for mutual incredulity between engineers from disparate cultures.

Ramiele, Where Art Thou?

Check it out dawg. When Ryan announced Ramiele Malubay would be singing "In My Life" my heart skipped a beat. This is one of my favorite Beatles' songs, one whose lyrics and simple melody is so beautiful that Simon singing it could move me. As soon as Ramiele opened her mouth my imagination speed ahead in anticipation of how she was going to approach the rest of the tune: straightforward skating to get the audience grooving to their memories before wowing the crowd with a series of spectacular triple and quad jumps. But it sounded as though she chickened out at the last minute and finished with a few single salchows. The judges berated her for "playing it safe", which I don't think was disappointment with the performance but with delivering below her potential. Surely Brooke White's rendition of "Let It Be" (upon which the judges heaped excessive praise) was not much better or original, it's just that no one can imagine Brooke doing better. Fortunately, Ramiele made it through to the next round (thank you Manila and Dick's Cabaret) and has the chance to redeem herself next week.

3 a.m. Response

Larry David has a suggestion for the Obama campaign on how to respond to what seems to be becoming the defining ad of this Presidential race - Hillary's 3 a.m. call. Though Clinton's commercial may have been effective in last week's primaries, given the large number of spoofs I doubt if it will be a positive in the long run. And as Larry David's column suggests, it could come back to bite her if she makes it to the general election.

Mice In Me Car

I started noticing a pizza like odor car inside my Honda Civic. As the smell got stronger and less pleasing, I blamed the kids for leaving garbage somewhere in the back. Then the odor turned to something reminiscent of vomit and diarrhea. The next day the heater/air conditioner stopped working. When I took the car to the dealer, the mechanic said there were signs of mice who seemed to have been gnawing on a heater/air conditioner related capacitor. Obviously it was high school mice who thought they had found a place to hide out and have wild pizza parties. The whole thing cost me $289, which if I find the mice responsible, I will be making their parents pay.

Patawad Po Talaga

Brooke White is your next American Idol. Of course she's gorgeous, but until the last two weeks she seemed like just another fluffy pop singer. If she is really involved with the selection and arrangements of her songs then she deserves to win. But could it all be a manufactured conspiracy crafting the anointed one's image, making the ordinary sound original to stand out from the rest of the field? Ramiele was certainly not up to snuff last week, it jerked her out of the sure thing cafe like Obama losing Texas and Ohio. This week was so much better, yet she keeps appearing in less than flattering outfits. The AI wardrobe department must be in on the conspiracy.

Trading Fairly Inefficiently

I certainly recognize the tremendous good that has been delivered by the FairTrade brand. Thousands of small scale farmers would not be growing coffee or tea today if not for the price support they received through the FairTrade system. Moreover, cooperatives established under the FairTrade banner have provided security for small farmers who otherwise would be left at the mercy of local exporters. Nevertheless, a dire need exists to improve efficiency of the certification process, decrease administrative costs, and increase transparency. Unfortunately, the tendency for ideology to trump practical strategy has inhibited the FairTrade movement from attaining more of its objectives.

Counting Me Out

The statcounter.com webtracking gizmo seems pretty good in comparison to other free hit counters out there. My sister tried some of the others but none of them had the reliability or credible features that is in the statcounter offering. Looking through their FAQs, I found how to exclude specific PCs from the count, which I did the other day. So now I know that "you" and "we" no longer refers exclusively to "me". You couldn't call my growing readership a following (nor should you call it growing and readership kind of infers that people intentionally come here) but I am getting a couple of strangers per day looking at these words. Probably not these words, most of the views are for an entry that mentions the Filipina American Idol singer Ramiele Malubay. And most of the viewers are coming from - surprise, surprise - the Philippines. It seems a link to this blog turned up on a fansite devoted to the singing wunderkind Charice Pempengco. I didn't know who Charice was either, but after a couple seconds of googling I discovered a page of youtube videos showing performances by an itty bitty teeny tiny 6 year old infant belting out Whitney Houston songs. If you are aroused by any of these videos you should be ashamed of yourself.

Charice Pempengco


Hindi ko alam kung papaano ko po kayo mapapasalamatan sa inyong kabutihan.

Oscar Balls

I am not allowed to watch movies that do not appeal to my sons. Which means I have not seen any of the films up for this year's Oscars. So the only reason to watch the award show would be to see Cate Blanchett or Helen Mirren, who I believe are the same person. I missed the presentation for best supporting actress, which was okay because Cate lost out to David Bowie. I did get to witness Helen Mirren flow down the stage, however, and proceed to bust the entire male audience with her confidence.

2008 American Idol Is...

The promotions for this season's American Idol have Simon proclaiming "the talent is the strongest it has ever been". After watching youtube videos of the top 24 performances, it is obvious the purpose of such statements is to recover from last year's Sanjaya scare rather than any attempt to portray reality. On the men's side, I see no Chris Daughtry-like standouts; they sound exactly alike with only slightly varying levels of proficiency. The same is mostly true for the women, with the exception of Ramiele Malubay. She reminds me of Melinda Doolittle in that she knows how to craft a song and has the confidence to restrain her big voice until the tune calls for it. She is not on the same level as Melinda (Ms. Doolittle had several years experience as a backup singer compared to Ramiele's experience in Philippine karaoke boxes) but Ramiele has the advantage of being so darn cute. She will win not only because she is the most talented, but also because each Filipino in the world will be voting for her several thousand times a week.

Your Next American Idol

Starboofed

Before I ever went to Japan I read in a guide book that it is considered extremely insulting, especially around the Tokyo area, to count the change a sales clerk gives back. After living in Japan for eleven years I would like to modify that advice.

When making a purchase in Japan, it is extremely important to count the change you receive because:
a) Contrary to their own opinions of themselves, honest Japanese are no more adept at making change.
b) Especially around Tokyo, many clerks seem skilled in the art of short-changing their customers.

I drink coffee, no sissy lattes. And black, no cream or nuthin. When I first came back from Japan and started attending morning Starbuck lines, I assumed that if the barista failed to ask "room for cream?" the default would be to fill the cup to the top. I soon learned that customers must be pro-active in their order instructions for "No room for cream." Even that does not guarantee that your coffee will not start out an inch below the brim, no matter how loud and clear you make the "NO". So now after being handed my paper cup, regardless of how long the line behind me, I always rip off the lid and do not hesitate to ask for all the coffee I paid for.

Here Baby, There Mama

I haven't had a hair cut for nine months. Thus the Jesus resemblance. The impetus for growing my hair as long as God can grow it was the Seinfeld episode where Elaine, after seeing an old picture of the guy she's dating, convinces him to stop shaving his head. Upon doing so, they realize that after three years he is incapable of supporting the same luxurious cranium of hair. Knowing that his baldness was no longer a matter of choice, he loses all confidence and Elaine loses all interest. After watching this episode I figured that the next time I was in a situation that allowed me to significantly grow out my hair, instead of Jesus, I would probably look like that hunchback in the Rocky Horror Picture Show who sings the Time Warp.

The Lemmings Turn

The new narrative being picked up by pundits, columnists, and satirists is that a substantial number of voters could be turned off by the creepy cult of personality growing around Obama. This is where a weblog^* is suppose to provide links to corroborating examples, but the chorus is loud and repetitive enough without my contribution. Besides, I cannot imagine a future without Barack Obama as President. I've got my cyanide kool-aid ready just in case.

B and Tina Horror Review

I couldn't work for most of yesterday, I was just too shaken by those horrific images from this week's tragedy. Of course I'm referring to the Tina Turner / Beyonce duet of "Proud Mary" at this year's Grammys. The pairing must have sounded good in the planning room: the fantasy of Beyonce moving her ample resources like a young Tina Turner (who never had an especially good figure) is more than enticing. The reality, however, is just not there. In a Grammy show from another era, John Denver introduced Tina with the remark "God made Tina Turner to teach women how to dance in high heels." Beyonce obviously skipped class.

Aside from the grisly sight of Grandma Turner hobbling around without her walker, several questions keep gnawing at my brain. Who is the evil plastic surgeon making hideous cat monsters out of the most famous beauties in the world? Tina Turner, Cher, Melanie Griffith, Meg Ryan, Barbara Hershey, Dolly Parton, Farrah Fawcett, Priscilla Presley, Kenny Rogers... And how does he continue enticing new victims to undergo his sick mutilations?

For those who witnessed Sunday night's horrors, I am including links of Tina Turner in earlier times that I hope will help cleanse your mind of that dreadful experience. These are the visions of Tina Turner we are meant to die with.

Classic Ike and Tina's "Proud Mary"


Couple other versions here, here, here and here. On Ed Sullivan without the easy. If you really cannot watch Ike, here's one with Tina replacing the Ikettes with Swedish models.

A very early Tina wearing sensible clothes.

Great Balls of Embarrassment

Anyone wanting an example of ridiculous piano theatrics only had to witness the contrast between Lang Lang's and Herbie Hancock's performances during tonight's grammy awards. For an example of piano theatrics sorely missed you could watch Jerry Lee Lewis' subsequent performance of "Great Balls of Fire". Though to be fair, for Jerry to be jumping around on his piano these days would certainly violate several biogerontological laws.

A Place At The Table

I lived in Japan for 11 years, working as a network/qa engineer for Reuters. Non-British gaijins congregated at one particular table in the lunch room. I was welcome at the table because everyone knew I wasn't British since 'bullocks' was not in my vocabulary. They were just as certain that I was Canadian because I had a beard and was too quite to be an American. So I got to hear many extremely derogatory remarks about the British (to which I eagerly contributed) and Americans (of which I quietly noted). And this was during the Clinton era.

Q: How many Americans does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None because the market will take care of it.

You Oughta Know

Never date a woman whose favorite singer is Alanis Morissette. How many involuntary penectomies have been performed after listening to one of her albums?

Xin Nian Kuai Le

Wow, what a week, what a month! MLK Bday, Groundhog Day, Setsubun, Mardi Gras, Super Fat Tuesday, and now Chinese New Years!! And what an auspicious start - Mitt Romney announces he is dropping out of the presidential race!!! Here's hoping the rest of rat year remains as satisfying!!!!

Piano Detours

While looking for something on the theoretical differences between "fair trade" and "direct trade", I came across this article in the New York Times expressing frustration over the physical histrionics that too many young pianist inject into their performances. Which led me to youtube to watch performances of Lang Lang, Glenn Gould, and Arthur Rubinstein. It is not just that Lang Lang's facial tics and spasmodic episodes distracts from the performance, they seem so insincere, disconnected from the music. Less of an involuntary physical reaction to a spiritual surfeit and more of a willful choice to differentiate his act. Like Kiss applying face makeup.

I'm not sure I agree with Mr. Holland's conclusion that such theatrics turns young people away from classical music, however. When I was in my teens I came into possession of Keith Jarrett's Koln Concert album, which I listened over and over again. It wasn't until later in my adult life that his orgasmic groans and cranial gyrations became intolerable.

Harvard Is Free For Now

You should download Michael Porter's and Mark Kramer's Strategy and Society before the Harvard Business Review starts charging for it. This is an article that will be linked and referenced by every future academic paper containing the word sustainability. Don't wait and be forced to pay just to find out if it is pertinent to your research.

Thoughtless Criticism

I wanted to write sentences containing such words and phrases as: "FairTrade certification", "engender opacity", "social structures", "anti-market market solutions", and "organization dedicated to creating transparency". But that would take a coherency of thought that was walled off earlier this evening behind some remote sleep centers in my brain.

Oni Wa Soto

I can't believe it's another Setsubun already. Which means tomorrow morning I will be spending a great deal of effort scraping smashed beans from the sidewalk because the soy beans sold here don't bake to the same crispy orbs that can be readily swept up. Fortunately my neighbor is a mellow musician who doesn't let smashed soy beans under his toes spoil his day. Unless he still harbors resentment over my failure to be here when the FedEx guy delivered his ominously big box.

Meta Groundhog

Every year my family does the same thing on Groundhog Day. We watch the movie "Groundhog Day". This is such an obvious tradition, I'm surprised I haven't heard of other families following a similar ritual. I was also surprised that a cable channel doesn't run the movie over and over again today. I suspect that in the early days of cable there were channels that ran "Groundhog Day" marathons on Groundhog Day but doing so now would be considered a sign of an unimaginative program director.

Four-eyed Jesus

The picture on my profile is what I looked like 90 years and two ancestors ago. Currently I resemble Jesus Christ with glasses.

Wong Kar-What?

My first introduction to a non-Jackie Chan Hong Kong movie was "Fallen Angels" by Wong Kar-Wai. The release of this movie was very big in Japan. Part of the reason was Japanese/Taiwanese actor Takeshi Kaneshiro who was already popular in Japan. This movie pushed him beyond heart-throb status and immediately after this movie came out he probably worked on more Japanese than Chinese projects.

I didn't see the movie in theaters and couldn't rent it until demand subsided several months after its video release. I must have watched it at least five times in a row the first day I finally got a copy. In contrast to Jackie Chan movies, Wong Kar-Wai's work is not easily understood, with or without comprehensible subtitles. There is a scene where after a kill the hitman, Leon Lai, gets on a bus and is recognized by an old high school acquaintance who proceeds to try to sell him a life insurance policy. This scene with its juxtoposition of exhilerating violence followed by the extremely mundane is often mentioned in reviews. However, I don't believe the realism and beauty of the images can be appreciated to the same extent as someone experiencing his daily environment unable to comprehend surrounding conversations. Trying to decipher the dialogue in this movie was the same experience I felt trying to make sense of that morning's subway ride to Tokyo Station.

Of the two trailers, I think the Japanese version gives the impression of a movie with more substance, something beyond a violent thrill ride. Is that just a choice of music or a better sequencing of images.

Japanese Trailer


Chinese/English Trailer

Incomprehensible Bliss

I started watching Hong Kong films in Japan shown with Japanese subtitles. Which is the best way to watch the movies. Unless you can read Japanese.

Jackie Chan movies, especially, are much more entertaining when the dialogue is in Chinese and you are not distracted by a comprehensible translation. The plot, even the jokes, are just as easy to follow. However, the script is not covered with the same patina of lameness that tends to tarnish Jackie Chan movies when shown in the U.S.

Twisted Obama

My parents are even older than me and live in a world of Foxified information. Before Barack Obama entered the presidential race, they were very impressed with him as a person. I haven't heard them speak about Obama for over a year - their political discussions tend to escalate into hysterical rants against Hillary - so I wonder how that impression has since been twisted by Murdoch's minions.

Less "Or More"

My initial post stated the goal for this blog was to maintain one sentence or more per day. I'm doing pretty good with the "per day" for which I've managed at least one sentence (except for January 25 when I was clinically dead for most of the day). It's the "or more" part that I'm increasingly getting carried away with.

Counting Me

Yesterday I ended my entry with a self deprecating remark insinuating that nobody else read this blog. Of course nobody else reading these words was the intention of this blog. The purpose was to get a sustainable heartbeat going by removing the pressure of coherent thought. But how do I know a cult following hasn't formed already. To make sure fame wasn't about to blind side me, I put up a counter over there on the lower right-hand corner. You can check more detailed statistics by clicking the word 'visitors', which takes you to statcounter.com. So now we all know that when I write 'we' and 'you', I am referring exclusively to me.

Wii Got One

5:30 this morning I looked through the ads and saw the Wii on sale at Fred Meyers. The weatherman was predicting snow and/or freezing rain for this morning, neither of which was apparent in our parking lot. But maybe the forecast would be enough to scare off the other Wii-less citizens and give us a fighting chance. My wife insisted our youngest son was in no shape to be standing out in the cold (need to up his violent video game dosage), so it was up to my elder son and me to go out and bag a Wii. We arrived at 6:15 and got behind five other people who confirmed that their purpose for standing outside in sub-freezing weather was the same as ours. The woman at the head of the line was about 40 years old and from her cell phone conversations it became apparent that she was synchronizing her efforts with 4 colleagues situated outside other Fred Meyers around town. The next four people were working together, two brothers, maybe 30 and 40, and their wives. The lead woman and the older brother had called various Fred Meyers the night before and were told that each store would have exactly six Wiis to sell. So we were in! and woe the poor suckers who continued to line up behind us. Except it didn't work on a first-come first-get basis, but rather by lottery, the tickets to be passed out at 6:45.

7:00, with 36 people standing in line, the store's official Wii manager unlocks the front door and commences with the drawing. The first number belonged to the woman in front - can't complain about that. The second number was held by the third person in line, the wife of the younger brother. After responding to some grumblings from behind, the Wii manager shook his box some more and pulled out the next two numbers which belonged to the fifteenth and sixteenth people in line. Now it was the front of the line shouting "shake it more" and after appeasing the crowd with exaggerated jiggles, Mr. Wii read the magic numbers 507, which matched the numbers printed on my son's ticket. I didn't hear the last number drawn due to the excited screams coming from beside me.

So the drama is over, my responsibilities as a father have been fulfilled, and my readers no longer have to suffer through lame wii puns (as if anybody else was reading these words).

Swiss Cheese Memories

Whoa, what happened to yesterday? Like a hole was punched into my calendar.

On one side of the hole it was Thursday. My youngest son missed swimming lessons because of a cold, so I made him play violent video games as soon as he got home, hoping that would sweat out the virus. I picked up my other son from school later in the afternoon, stopped by Trader Joe's to pick up some horse meat for dinner, and dropped off a couple of overdue library mugs on my way home. I remember my neighbor knocking on the door as I cooked dinner. He said he was expecting a package the next day and wondered if I would mind signing for it. He wouldn't tell me what it was, but it would be big, ominously big.

I wished my neighbor happy new year, closed the door, then turned around to find the wall clock scolding my younger son. That's when I realized it was no longer Thursday and I was standing on the other side of a 24 hour wide hole. I walked over to the rim and tried to peer into the center, but all I could make out was a faint image of Charlie Rose interviewing Steve Martin.

Internet Dating

I seem to be the only Dale Burp in the entire world. At least as far as Google is aware. That's good in some ways - it means I won't be held responsible for the actions of other Dale Burp's. If my name was Ronald Fredricks, for example, and I joined one of those Internet dating services, I assume the first thing a girl receiving my name would do would be to google "ronald fredricks". This would get her mostly articles about a guy in New Jersey who doused his puppies with WD-40 lighter fluid and set them on fire. Which must be pretty frustrating for Dr. Ronald Fredricks of Minnesota who runs an adult day treatment center for HIV and AIDS patients. Images of burnt puppies pretty much negates the respect that comes with a PhD.

Mizu Mushi dot com

Anyone hoping to name the next big internet thing "mizumushi.com" is too late. Bayer AG is already using the name for a website promoting their latest athletes foot medicine. German companies shouldn't own Japanese words.

Batman Did Not Die

I thought I heard that Batman died today. It was information that I relayed to my sons and my wife who then spread the news to the rest of the world. Well, probably not my wife because she is a middle age Japanese woman who did not know who Batman was when I broke the bad news. I had to remind her of the awesome movie we took the kids to a couple of years ago. Which failed to move her until she remembered that was the movie in which the girl from Alias met her husband and how sad because they had a baby just last year.

But I was wrong. It wasn't Batman who died but the guy playing Jack Nicholson in the next Batman movie. So if you've been depressed today after hearing about the death of either Batman or Daredevil, you can cheer up. Unless you are a fan of gay cowboys, which is nothing to be ashamed of.

MBA Miasma

What is considered an acceptable modification of reality differs across cultures. This is a factor that most authors of Harvard Case Studies fail to recognize as they cut and paste corporate PR releases into their narratives. Thus foreign marketing mythologies get ingrained into the conventional wisdom of MBA endowed executives. An analysis of the business school case study industry would make for an interesting case study.

Wii Coulda Had One

They told us they have been getting them every other Saturday afternoon and go on sale the next morning. So call Saturday evening to see if they came and if so, get in line by at least 6a.m. on Sunday. We obediently followed the routine last Saturday but, alas, the store had failed to receive Nintendo's blessing that week.

I woke up this Sunday, made my daily jug of coffee, and started flipping through the home furnishings, underwear, and electronic store ads. There it was, in full color, for the msrp of $249. Which meant we were too late, by then they had all been doled out to those who had complied with the directives. But I had forgotten my duties, so wrapped up in my own synapses. And now my sons will continue their suffering because of their father's self-indulgent neurological introspection.

I Got Blisters On Me Synapses

I have to hurry to get everything done before the caffeine wears off. This can't be good for the synapses, they must be rubbed raw by now.

My New Shah

Minutiae is a an interesting looking word. It must have been a popular name in the early history of blogs. I suspect too many people would not recognize the word in print, however. How many minutiae's are orbiting lifelessly around the earth, dribbling revenue into the registrar industry?

Lift-Off

One sentence per day - no less. Perhaps more.