Old news, but a fact I'd like to recall later on...
Michael J. de la Merced writes in The New York Times (July 2) that Starbucks is feeling the pinch from an economy that makes four-dollar coffee seem sort of stupid, and it's planning to close 600 stores in the United States.
Chatting with my local barista, I'm told that local Starbucks do not face closure, but that a glut of them in San Francisco, Southern California, and Florida will be shuttered.
According to the article, Starbucks does plan to continue growing its international brand. But in the U.S., where folks increasingly must choose between coffee and gasoline (or even food and medicine), a tall, low-fat, extra soy, sorta-whipped, Iced Whatever just doesn't add up.
Read the entire piece: Starbucks Announces It Will Close 600 Stores
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Monday, July 7, 2008
Central Texan Barbecue
Castroville's Central Texan Barbecue is the best place for ribs, sausage, and brisket we've found in California. Jenny and I enjoyed our inaugural meal there in 2000 at the start of a drive to Texas. We figured that fate was smiling as we pulled onto the parking lot and smelled the wafting of smoked meat from two open pits. On that summer day, we met the gregarious (though sometimes cantankerous) pit-master, Don Elkins.
Born in 1938, one-time cotton picker and trapper, 20-year veteran of the Army's Special Forces (including duty in Vietnam), Don has been the heart and soul of The Central Texan since 1984. During our first meeting, back when he was nearly a dead-ringer for Willie Nelson, Don told us of his early years in Red Rock, Texas, espousing the glory of Lockhart, Texas 'que and planting the seeds of our 2007 Wood Family Southern Routes BBQ Tour. Of course, if you can't make it to the real Texas, Don's place is a pretty good facsimile, complete with sawdust floors, country music, and plenty of western paraphernalia.
About once a month we make the roughly 45-minute one-way drive to Castroville, enduring the backed-up traffic when the four-lane converges into a two-lane near the Moss Landing Power Plant, all to visit our little version of Central Texas. Sometimes the brisket is tender, sometimes it's a little rough, but Don's artistry is always infused with that sublime smoke. Each time we make the turn, I scrutinize the "open" sign, searching for neon proof that Don is keeping the flame alive. How fortunate that the light continues to shine.(Photographs by Andrew and Jenny Wood)
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Friday, July 4, 2008
Lilipad Cities
Can you imagine? Cities built to float atop oceans swelled from melting icecaps, crossing the oceans in search of mild weather. The shape of the island city is perfect for collecting rainwater and allowing for a diversity of recreational activities that even include mountain climbing. Vincent Callebaut calls them Lilypad Cities.Read more: Pictured: The floating cities that could one day house climate change refugees
(Image from Inhabitat)
Thursday, July 3, 2008
The Man in the High Castle
Yesterday I finished Philip K. Dick's (1992/1962) book, The Man in the High Castle. Consider everything that follows to be composed of spoilers.
High Castle depicts an alternative-Earth following German-Japanese victory in the Second World War. Yet that setting is mainly a backdrop; the book is much more focused on the personal stories of a handful of characters whose story-arcs intersect in odd ways. Each character is a fake invested in the manufacture of reality. Each somehow knows that her or his own duplicities and productions of historicity reflect a larger artificiality.
To illustrate, one character, a producer of ersatz Americana knickknacks (coveted by Japanese occupiers of the western United States) comments on the value of human-made authenticity in the form of "proof," rather than some intrinsic quality, to generate meaning: "And so it's all a fake, a mass delusion. The paper proves its worth, not the object itself!" (p. 64). Throughout High Castle, characters stretch against the confines of the simulations that confine them. But each (with, perhaps, one exception) find no truer meaning "outside" their continuum than within.
The reader studies the fragments, hoping that "this" reality is more meaningful than the ones that reside in the book. But I found myself wondering all the same.
Some other quotes:
High Castle depicts an alternative-Earth following German-Japanese victory in the Second World War. Yet that setting is mainly a backdrop; the book is much more focused on the personal stories of a handful of characters whose story-arcs intersect in odd ways. Each character is a fake invested in the manufacture of reality. Each somehow knows that her or his own duplicities and productions of historicity reflect a larger artificiality.
To illustrate, one character, a producer of ersatz Americana knickknacks (coveted by Japanese occupiers of the western United States) comments on the value of human-made authenticity in the form of "proof," rather than some intrinsic quality, to generate meaning: "And so it's all a fake, a mass delusion. The paper proves its worth, not the object itself!" (p. 64). Throughout High Castle, characters stretch against the confines of the simulations that confine them. But each (with, perhaps, one exception) find no truer meaning "outside" their continuum than within.
The reader studies the fragments, hoping that "this" reality is more meaningful than the ones that reside in the book. But I found myself wondering all the same.
Some other quotes:
"Apple pie, Coca-Cola, stroll after the movie, Glenn Miller . . . you could paste together out of tin and rice paper a complete artificial America" (p. 112).One can hardly imagine Gibson's Gernsback Continuum without this book.
"Synthetic image distilled from hearing assorted talk. Myth implanted subtly in tissues of brain" (pp. 142-143).
"Now one appreciates Saint Paul's incisive word choice . . . seen through glass darkly not a metaphor, but astute reference to optical distortion. We really do see astigmatically, in fundamental sense: our space and our time creations of our own psyche" (p. 233).
"Even if all life on our planet is destroyed, there must be life somewhere which we know nothing of. It is impossible that ours is the only world; there must be world after world unseen by us, in some region or dimension that we simply do not perceive" (p. 244).
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Augmented Reality
Have you ever wished you could "right click" a person to learn more about them? One day, thanks to Augmented Reality, you may have that power. Since we're getting used to "marking ourselves up" thanks to Facebook, it seems like a natural progression that strangers will be able to peer beyond our clothes to gain insights into our predilections, whether they be musical, political, or sexual. How? Mobile phones or even special eyeglass lens can show us information embedded onto objects that we wear or even attach into/into our bodies.
Steve Mollman has written about this on CNN. Here's a snip:
Steve Mollman has written about this on CNN. Here's a snip:
Augmented reality (AR) -- or the "real world Web" -- has been listed by research firm Gartner as one of the most disruptive technologies companies could face over the next few years. The possibilities of AR are impressive.Read the whole piece: The missing 'links': Looking towards an augmented reality
During a heart transplant, identifier labels can be superimposed over the valves and chambers of a beating heart. On airplane factory floors, AR visors help electricians navigate complex mazes of wiring. Military minds dream up darker uses of AR.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
A Little Less Conversation
Anyone remember that 1968 Elvis song, "A Little Less Conversation"?
I'm humming that tune in celebration of California's new law, in effect today, making it illegal (with necessary exceptions) to use a mobile phone while driving.
Of course, you can trust California to leave a loophole wide enough to fit a moving car. At present, it's still OK for adults to send text messages while on the road, as if that activity is somehow less distracting than talking. Apparently the law was written before the explosion of text messaging, and the legislature couldn't figure out a way to close the loophole in time.
Oh well. Baby steps. I'm delighted with this new law all the same.
Being a communication studies professor, I celebrate the widest possible range of opportunities for people to share their ideas. More media. More information. More good.
Good, that is, until you get behind the wheel. Then I'd prefer that all motorists focus solely on safe distances, reasonable speed, courteous merging, and all the other niceties that help us get from place to place with a minimum of bloodshed.
Heck, even assuming that mobile-phone addicted drivers arrive alive, I agree with research finding that car-talkers contribute to traffic by driving more slowly and reacting less quickly than they would without their phones.
So I'm glad to see the new law.
Yesterday I heard that cops practically lined up along Highway 17, a symbolic reminder that they'll be vigilant in their search for cell phone scofflaws.
At least person with whom I chatted was annoyed by the display.
Me? I love it.
No fan of excessive state power to constrain communication, I'm glad to see a little regulation on this front.
Mobile phones are a net positive in our lives. They help keep us connected to our loved ones, they allow us to stay safe in unfamiliar environments, and they're potential lifesavers in case of mechanical or natural problems. But the benefits of unnecessary mobile communication while driving simply fail to meet the costs in terms of safety.
What about hands-free devices? They're legal for drivers over 18.
Even those devices present a problem though, given research that shows how talking on a mobile phone constitutes a more significant driving distraction than holding the phone.
If only drivers would limit usage of that technology to brief calls regarding changes of plans or other necessary last-minute communications. That's my plan, at least.
I hope the people I see on the road today employ a similar approach.
Yes, we spend more and more time in our cars, thanks to worsening traffic conditions and our growing tolerance for commutes that previous generations could never imagine. Many of us therefore want to use that time in the car for conversation.
Yet our primary conversation while on the road must be nonverbal -- with the drivers around us -- not with distant friends and coworkers.
When we drive, we form a fluid community (or sorts): people who depend upon one another to be alert and aware. It's a delicate relationship transformed all too easily into something brutally intimate without proper communication.
Sure, mobile phones appeal to our occasional desire to be anywhere but "here." But when behind the wheel, here is precisely where we need to be.
So three cheers for California's new law. When it comes to traffic safety -- yours and mine -- I agree with Elvis. It's time for "A Little Less Conversation."
I'm humming that tune in celebration of California's new law, in effect today, making it illegal (with necessary exceptions) to use a mobile phone while driving.
Of course, you can trust California to leave a loophole wide enough to fit a moving car. At present, it's still OK for adults to send text messages while on the road, as if that activity is somehow less distracting than talking. Apparently the law was written before the explosion of text messaging, and the legislature couldn't figure out a way to close the loophole in time.
Oh well. Baby steps. I'm delighted with this new law all the same.
Being a communication studies professor, I celebrate the widest possible range of opportunities for people to share their ideas. More media. More information. More good.
Good, that is, until you get behind the wheel. Then I'd prefer that all motorists focus solely on safe distances, reasonable speed, courteous merging, and all the other niceties that help us get from place to place with a minimum of bloodshed.
Heck, even assuming that mobile-phone addicted drivers arrive alive, I agree with research finding that car-talkers contribute to traffic by driving more slowly and reacting less quickly than they would without their phones.
So I'm glad to see the new law.
Yesterday I heard that cops practically lined up along Highway 17, a symbolic reminder that they'll be vigilant in their search for cell phone scofflaws.
At least person with whom I chatted was annoyed by the display.
Me? I love it.
No fan of excessive state power to constrain communication, I'm glad to see a little regulation on this front.
Mobile phones are a net positive in our lives. They help keep us connected to our loved ones, they allow us to stay safe in unfamiliar environments, and they're potential lifesavers in case of mechanical or natural problems. But the benefits of unnecessary mobile communication while driving simply fail to meet the costs in terms of safety.
What about hands-free devices? They're legal for drivers over 18.
Even those devices present a problem though, given research that shows how talking on a mobile phone constitutes a more significant driving distraction than holding the phone.
If only drivers would limit usage of that technology to brief calls regarding changes of plans or other necessary last-minute communications. That's my plan, at least.
I hope the people I see on the road today employ a similar approach.
Yes, we spend more and more time in our cars, thanks to worsening traffic conditions and our growing tolerance for commutes that previous generations could never imagine. Many of us therefore want to use that time in the car for conversation.
Yet our primary conversation while on the road must be nonverbal -- with the drivers around us -- not with distant friends and coworkers.
When we drive, we form a fluid community (or sorts): people who depend upon one another to be alert and aware. It's a delicate relationship transformed all too easily into something brutally intimate without proper communication.
Sure, mobile phones appeal to our occasional desire to be anywhere but "here." But when behind the wheel, here is precisely where we need to be.
So three cheers for California's new law. When it comes to traffic safety -- yours and mine -- I agree with Elvis. It's time for "A Little Less Conversation."
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