Lazy Linking, 35th in An Occasional Series

What I liked lately on the Internets:

35.1. How about a really detailed map of Central Park and its almost 20,000 trees? [Hat tip: kottke.org.]

35.2. Let's talk about sex #1. Word clouds for Maxim vs. Cosmo vs. 40 years ago Cosmo.

35.3. Let's talk about sex #2. Online dating apparently counts a lot for many women in terms of building up the requisite comfort level to get physical.

35.4. Let's talk about sex #3. It turns out saving yourself until marriage really is the better way to go.

35.5. There's more to Anne Robinson than just the black coat and the catchphrase, "You are the weakest link . . . goodbye."

35.6. I like the idea of letting pretty colored circles tell me where to rent and where to buy.

35.7. Sometimes I fall a week or two behind on reading The Economist, but in this case, I'm about 167 years late. [Hat tip: Marginal Revolution.]

35.8. An economist's solution to a household full of sick family members? Make your time horizon smaller.

35.9. Kudos to Diana Lind, editor-at-large of Next American City, for her recent op-ed in the New York Times, on urban blight. [Hat tip: Next American City.]

35.10 A nice post from my friend, the Suburban Family Guy, on the injustice of abortion.

Car, Cars, Cart

Amy is an extreme introvert, which means she perishes easily in the absence of solitude and silence. Of course, her job involves going to a loud, crowded, cramped place and having really high-intensity interactions with a parade of really difficult people. Without going to any detail, this week was particularly draining. This called for an intervention. Kids, it's time to get out of the house Saturday morning and go have some fun so that Mama can recharge.

8:00a - Kids have been up since 6, so plenty of time to put clothes on, have breakfast, and get ready to head out. We drive the car gingerly to the mechanic to get the oil changed. I've only driven three other times this month, none since the big snowstorm, so I'm gripping the wheel with both hands like there's no tomorrow.

8:10a - Car safely dropped off, we walk a couple of blocks to the nearest subway station and within minutes are downtown and heading to Reading Terminal Market. Not many people out, so downtown has a quiet but majestic feel to it.

8:30a - We slowly meander through the aisles at the Market. The kids clamor for all manner of goodies: chocolates, candies, pastries piled to eye-level. They settle for two pretzels for a dollar from their cheap dad.

8:50a - Earlier that morning, I wondered what I would do with the kids so early in the morning besides the Market. After all, all the shopping spots didn't open until 10a. Then I saw an ad for the Philadelphia International Auto Show. It was opening day. It opens at 9. And it's free for kids 6 and under. Even better, buying a ticket online got me two bucks off. So we pack up from the Market and head across the street to the Pennsylvania Convention Center.

9:00a - Big pile of people waiting for the doors to open. We get in and go to coat check. The lady has the audacity to charge me double the $2 per item fee. I mean, just because I've jammed a backpack, three jackets, two scarfs, three hats, and three pairs of gloves into a big shopping bag doesn't mean that shouldn't count as one item, right? OK, maybe she was cutting me a break.

9:10a - Brand new cars everywhere, with license to climb in and out of them. The kids are pretty geeked up about this.

9:50a - Mechanic calls with the inevitable "we have two other things we want to do while we're in there, Mr. Huang." The second item, which he says will cost six hundred bucks, causes me to groan aloud, to which he replies, "Well, y'know it's going to take us a good hour and a half extra to do that." At that hourly rate, I think I'm in the wrong profession.

10:40a - We've been going for 90 minutes and Aaron is starting to perish. I hold on to him with promises of fortifications in Chinatown, and try to distract him from his tiredness with desperate cries of "look at that motorcycle, Aaron!"

10:50a - One of our favorite Chinatown bakeries is just two blocks away. We get pastries for the kids and then they ask for bubble tea. I think I just bought myself another hour or so.

11:10a - Back at the Convention Center, we find another huge exhibit hall we hadn't previously hit. We grab all the free schwag we can, and I hoist Aaron onto my shoulders to fend off any whining about hurt knees.

12:10p - I think we're done here. We haven't heard from the mechanic but hope that he's either done and hasn't called us, or will be done once we get back to our neighborhoods.

12:30p - Neither. It's going to be another hour. I take the kids outside and hit a food truck to score two foot-long meat, egg, and cheese sandwiches for five bucks. They eat while I snooze.

1:10p - I am awoken by the mechanic's voice, saying my car's ready. I get the kids organized, throw them in the car, and we head to the grocery store. Yes, the grocery store: with snow piled up everywhere, I am loath for us to have to park the car twice this weekend, so I figure we do all the car-related errands all at once. I wonder if the kids will cooperate.

2:10p - They are a handful but there are no significant meltdowns. They even pester me to help me unload the cart onto the conveyor belt. For some reason, they love doing that.

2:30p - Home at last, and with a parking spot not far from our house, to boot. And now the hard part: getting five big canvas bags, a bag full of car-related brochures/schwag, a wired Jada, and an asleep Aaron into the house. Needless to say, it's a multi-trip act. A fitting end to another fun and crazy Huang Kid itinerary.

Deep Conversations

Because many of my friends are very well-educated and had their children biologically, I know a lot of precocious kids. But even those not so well-endowed in terms of genes tend to get to age four and start firing away the questions, some very simple and others quite deep.

On the brink of turning six, Jada has reached that stage. It's overwhelming and tiring at times, but at other times charming and poignant. In just the past week, Amy has been able to have an extended conversation with her about sex and physical pleasure and body boundaries and marriage.

Meanwhile, I've had to field questions like "how do you get to heaven" and "why did Jesus have to die." Needless to say, it's been a challenge, but a welcome one, to have to figure out how to express our faith's most fundamental truths in ways that can be understood by a little girl with below-average comprehension.

As relentless as they can be sometimes, here's hoping the questions keep coming. For there is much Amy and I want to tell our children in the way of instruction and truth, and if they are eager to hear it, we are eager to tell it.

Memory Block

Three weeks into my 2011 Bible memory verse routine, I have come to a firm conclusion: I am mediocre at this. The game plan was, having identified 100 passages in the Bible (ranging from one to ten verses long), to commit two to memory each week. At these bite-sized levels, it was hoped I would remember all of them at year's end.

Things started off well. But Week 2, my head just couldn't retain the words. It didn't help that both passages were three verses long; I've had better luck in Week 1 and Week 3, as all four passages were one or two verses long.

I'm not trying to get legalistic about this: the goal is not Bible memory for Bible memory's sake, but rather to employ some discipline to the act of spending time thinking on God's word. In that sense, this exercise has been telling. For I shove a lot of stuff into my head - work-related worries, current events, sports stats, what the schedule is for the kids in the week to come - and most of it sticks more easily than remembering a few lines of Scripture. All the more to keep pressing on here, despite decidedly middling results: it is clear I would do myself well to spend more time here.

Winter Workout

Who needs a treadmill when you have the normal grind of getting kids to school in the snow? The public schools were closed again on Friday, but Jada's after-school program re-opened, and so she could go there all day. That was the easy part, since it's just two blocks from our house.

Aaron's school is the hard part, since it's a good two miles from our house and a mile from my office, and bus access isn't super great. And, because Aaron perishes easily, he got a ride on my shoulders for most of the trek. Let me tell you, the combination of his weight and the slushiness of most roads and sidewalks made for a very strenuous workout!

Because Aaron's school opened an hour late, I took him into the office after we had dropped off Jada. I had brought one of our portable DVD players so he could watch something while I cranked through some work, but the DVD he picked out (Little Mermaid) was so impossibly smudged that it wouldn't play right. Set on watching Little Mermaid, he got whiny about not being able to watch it, not understanding my explanation that this was the reason I told him not to play with DVDs. Luckily we only needed to be at my office a short spell before heading out to his school. Alas, the damage was done; upon my return and for hours thereafter, I had Aaron's whiny voice ringing in my ears.

I couldn't get out of the office early so was really cutting it close in terms of being able to get Aaron and then get Jada before her school closed at 6. I hoofed it to Aaron's school, got him ready and out as quickly as I possibly could without being too abrupt, and then hauled him to a well-served bus stop, walking further to increase our chances of picking something up sooner rather than later (two lines that run every 10 minutes rather than one line that runs every 15 to 20 minutes).

Only we ended up waiting for what seemed like an eternity. It was only about 15 minutes, but it was more than enough to make getting Jada by 6 an impossibility. I called Amy, who had just arrived home and was grateful for even a few minutes to exhale after a crazy day and a hard week at work, and who was instead instructed by her desperate husband to put her coat back on and fetch our daughter.

A few minutes after that, our bus finally arrived, and took forever to go the mile home. As we passed by the stop we would've gotten off at to get Jada, I looked at my watch: 6:03. Thank goodness Amy was home in enough time to do what I couldn't. A few minutes later, Aaron and I got off, threw snowballs at each other for the one block walk from the bus stop to our house, and arrived just as Amy and Jada were getting home.

All told, it was 4 1/2 miles of walking in the snow, 2 1/2 of which were with a near-40-pounder wiggling on my shoulders. I should patent this form of exercise; it is foolproof for keeping the pounds off during the winter months, although only masochists like me would try this at home.

Surviving the Snow

Wednesday night's big snow led to Thursday's big snow-in: all three of our kids' schools closed for the day, meaning I would have to be productive at home (where I'm never productive, even if the kids aren't there) while keeping an eye and an ear on two rambunctious little ones, all the while holding my breath that Amy would be OK on the roads. In short, I was not looking forward to waking up on Thursday morning.

But everything turned out pretty good. I got some exercise in before anyone woke up, and then headed out to shovel the sidewalk and the car. I confirmed the school closings, told the kids how the day was going to play out, and then saw Amy off.

The kids settled into TV and I settled, surprisingly, into a productive work day. I suppose I had a few pangs of guilt that I was letting my kids' brains rot with hour after consecutive hour of PBS Kids, fortified by popcorn and peanut butter sandwiches. But the guilt went away pretty quick; after all, I was, for once, in the zone at home. And, so I could finally exhale, Amy got home safely and early, with donuts in hand no less.

I don't wish any more snow days on this family. But at least we survived this one.

Good Eats in the 'Hood

This weekend, I was dispatched by my wife to go out and bring home dinner while she bathed the kids. As I strolled around the neighborhood in the very brisk winter air, I marveled at all of the new restaurants that have sprouted up in the last few months that are within easy walking distance of our house:

* There's the relatively upscale (i.e. entrees cost more than ten bucks, inside decor is actually something you could take a date to) Ethiopian cafe within eyeshot of our front porch.

* The Indian/Pakistani/Bangladeshi place up the street that we tried last month, whose layered spices delighted our mouths.

* A new Lebanese bakery a block from our house that gave me a free donut hole when I asked for a take-out menu.

* A Moroccan fusion place whose dishes looked and sounded delightful, and whose staff was eager to emphasize that they deliver.

And, finally, not a new place, but some recent good coverage in the local paper for Kaffa Crossing (Ethiopian), whose owner I've intersected with before at The Enterprise Center; when I dropped in to ask for a take-out menu, the wait staff breezily said they were out, "but check us out on the web." They were early on the "free wifi" perk, and it's worked: the place was packed, with young people with laptops and multiple piercings.

I've dutifully sent menus and reviews to my sister and my brother-in-law, who live in California and are always up for exploring new food options, in the hopes that they will be motivated to visit us sooner rather than later. And I extend the same invitation to all, to visit or to relocate. We may have fires and stabbings, but we also have really good eats.

Not So Live Blogging the State of the Union Address

I did not watch the State of the Union address live - I was in bed before it started - and I have not watched or read any commentary about it since. But I did read the transcript over the next couple of mornings. Here are some of my reactions.

"What comes of this moment will be determined not by whether we can sit together tonight, but whether we can work together tomorrow." I am a sucker for Obama's rhetoric. He has demonstrated genuine desire for bipartisanship, which I appreciate.

"The rules have changed. In a single generation, revolutions in technology have transformed the way we live, work and do business. Steel mills that once needed 1,000 workers can now do the same work with 100." Thank you, thank you, thank you. This is a more accurate portrayal of the challenges of job creation in our modern economy than the more popularly believed "we lost those jobs to China and Mexico."

"Meanwhile, nations like China and India realized that with some changes of their own, they could compete in this new world. And so they started educating their children earlier and longer, with greater emphasis on math and science." Somewhere, Amy Chua nods in approval.

"Remember — for all the hits we've taken these last few years, for all the naysayers predicting our decline, America still has the largest, most prosperous economy in the world. No workers are more productive than ours. No country has more successful companies, or grants more patents to inventors and entrepreneurs. We're the home to the world's best colleges and universities, where more students come to study than any place on Earth." Translation: reports of America's demise are premature.

"What's more, we are the first nation to be founded for the sake of an idea — the idea that each of us deserves the chance to shape our own destiny. That's why centuries of pioneers and immigrants have risked everything to come here. It's why our students don't just memorize equations, but answer questions like 'What do you think of that idea? What would you change about the world? What do you want to be when you grow up?'" Co-sign. This is the America I love: combining raw talent with inquisitiveness and idealism.

"The first step in winning the future is encouraging American innovation. None of us can predict with certainty what the next big industry will be or where the new jobs will come from. Thirty years ago, we couldn't know that something called the Internet would lead to an economic revolution. What we can do — what America does better than anyone else — is spark the creativity and imagination of our people. We're the nation that put cars in driveways and computers in offices; the nation of Edison and the Wright brothers; of Google and Facebook. In America, innovation doesn't just change our lives. It is how we make our living." Innovation is also inherently disruptive, to old industries and old job types. This is the challenge of a nation that is simultaneously entrepreneurial and democratic. What will the historians say about what we did to see ourselves into this new economic order?

"Our free enterprise system is what drives innovation. But because it's not always profitable for companies to invest in basic research, throughout our history, our government has provided cutting-edge scientists and inventors with the support that they need. That's what planted the seeds for the Internet. That's what helped make possible things like computer chips and GPS. Just think of all the good jobs — from manufacturing to retail — that have come from these breakthroughs." As right-leaning as I am, I acknowledge the role of government in seeding innovation.

"We need to get behind this innovation. And to help pay for it, I'm asking Congress to eliminate the billions in taxpayer dollars we currently give to oil companies. I don't know if — I don't know if you've noticed, but they're doing just fine on their own." Obligatory dig at an easy target. Whatever.

"Within the next five years, we'll make it possible for businesses to deploy the next generation of high-speed wireless coverage to 98 percent of all Americans. This isn't just about faster Internet or fewer dropped calls. It's about connecting every part of America to the digital age." My boss wrote an op-ed on this earlier this month.

"For example, over the years, a parade of lobbyists has rigged the tax code to benefit particular companies and industries. Those with accountants or lawyers to work the system can end up paying no taxes at all. But all the rest are hit with one of the highest corporate tax rates in the world. It makes no sense, and it has to change. So tonight, I'm asking Democrats and Republicans to simplify the system. Get rid of the loopholes. Level the playing field. And use the savings to lower the corporate tax rate for the first time in 25 years — without adding to our deficit. It can be done." A tax code that is simpler and flatter. Republicans should be nodding their heads in agreement here. And, because it's the rich who usually qualify for exemptions, the less of those there are, the more progressive the result, so the left should be happy with this as well.

"Our troops come from every corner of this country — they're black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American. They are Christian and Hindu, Jewish and Muslim. And, yes, we know that some of them are gay. Starting this year, no American will be forbidden from serving the country they love because of who they love." You may know where I stand on gay marriage. The reason I've never blogged about DADT is because I'm incredulous that we would care about the sexual orientation of our armed forces. So though I realize that there actually is a debate on this issue, for me it's a non-debate.

"That dream is why someone who began by sweeping the floors of his father's Cincinnati bar can preside as Speaker of the House in the greatest nation on Earth." Can I assume that John Boehner started tearing up at this point? Or was he on his fifth hanky by now?

I realize I breezed through whole sections of his speech. And, probably the responses are worth reading and commenting on as well. But this is what I got at this hour.

Slower, Softer, and More Beautiful

The snow is wreaking havoc on our carefully constructed schedules. It's hard enough to juggle two full-time jobs and two very active kids attending three separate schools. But throw in the inability to get around by bike and the uncertain threat of school cancellation/delay/dismissal, and you've got yourself a very complicated workweek.

Indeed, yesterday morning brought a dusting of snow, with the threat of more rain and snow throughout the day, and a massive snowfall starting in the evening. I decided to leave the bike at home and take the kids by foot and bus, and Amy would pick Aaron up by car in the evening. Only Aaron's school closed two hours early, which meant I would have to get him and I would have to leave even earlier to do so. (We lucked out with Jada: her school closed, but her after-school program was able to get her early, and they subsequently did not close early.)

Getting to and from Aaron's school by foot or bus is painful and slow, aggravating my already spent patience as I mentally calculated how much was piling up for me and how little time I would have to get to it all. And, with last night's snowfall shipwrecking schools today, it's looking like a long day at home with both kids with me, trying desperately to juggle a full plate of work to-do's with two increasingly stir-crazy kids, all the while worrying about whether Amy will be safe on the roads. It's enough to pine for the other months of the year, when snow's not a factor and you can deal with your already crazy life without the nuisance and wild card that the white stuff represents.

Here's the thing about snow, though. It makes things really pretty. It's another story at the end of the day, when it's gotten dirtied by footprints and tire treads. But first thing in the morning, it makes everything slower and quieter. And maybe, just maybe, slower and softer and more beautiful is just what our psyches need, when we're juggling all we're juggling.

So amidst my gasping for air as I try desperately to not fall too far behind or lose my cool too much shuttling kids hither and thither, I hope I will be able to experience this hidden blessing. And I hope you will, too.

An Ode to Our Aveo

Exactly five years ago today, we became the proud owners of a brand-new grey Chevrolet Aveo LS. Our previous car had fallen to pieces, and the Aveo was the cheapest new car available; I ended up buying from the second dealer I met with, and the whole transaction, including test drive and payment, took barely an hour.

Five years and 40,000 miles later, we still like our little Aveo. There’s not much room for the four of us in the interior, but who needs room – we’re driving, not moshing. It has a surprisingly spacious trunk, enough for even the biggest of grocery runs. And it’s easy to park, given how short it is.

Shortly after we bought our Aveo, gas prices skyrocketed, and those days of four-dollar-a-gallon gas are ever in the back of the minds of the typical American driver, which means the Aveo has held a pretty high resale value, even though its engine isn't super efficient and so it only gets so-so fuel mileage for a car its size. But I think that suits us just fine: small, but just big enough for us, simple enough to be affordable, and reliable enough to survive five years and counting.

So kudos to our family car for serving us so well so far. I wash its interior and exterior on regular basis as a reward.

Tiger Would

First it was the book and the accompanying New York Times column. That lit up the blogosphere with vilifiers and defenders. It made the cover of Time Magazine and became its own Internet meme. I'm referring of course to Amy Chua, whose "Chinese mother" parenting techniques have been a lightning rod among pundits and parents. I haven't read a hundredth of the coverage, but it seems like she's been covered from every conceivable angle.

What I haven't read a whole lot of is a more humble, less wound-up response. I admit that my initial read of her New York Times column made me wince at some points and set off anxiety alarms at other points. But, and perhaps this is more indicative of my insecurity and cluelessness than her insight and correctness, I found myself musing more along the lines of feeling like I have a lot to learn as a parent in terms of finding my own style and way, not necessarily to become more like Amy Chua but in response to all of the talk that has emerged from her controversial writings.

I must disclose that I am probably more disposed than the average bear to applaud the ways of the "tiger mom." My parents did not make any effort to nurture my self-esteem, which was not unusual among my Asian peers, but they also did not pressure me over academics or extra-curriculars, which was a bit unusual. I guess they didn't have to, because I was already extremely self-motivated. Telling is an essay I dug up a few years back, written when I was all of 14, lamenting that my younger sister, who was all of 8 at the time, wasn't taking school seriously enough; I predicted she would have to buck up or else she would struggle. (I am happy to report she turned out just fine. And, looking back, she was taking school plenty serious.)

Anyway, fast-forward to the present, and I am confronted, as you may know if you read this blog, with all sorts of different and at times competing influences for what I think is right to do and be as a parent. I am Ivy League educated and still very ambitious. I am a Christian who takes the Bible seriously, so I am mindful to say no to the covetousness of this age, but also aware that sometimes we sell ourselves short and settle for mediocrity instead of striving, with God's help, to be as great as He has made us to be. My kids are adopted, so they do not share their genes, which means I have even less direct influence on their potential and their trajectory. I am a cheap bastard, which means I have not yet signed them up for piano or dance or swim or soccer. But I have taken them all sorts of places and exposed them to all sorts of activities and settings. And I live in a very diverse neighborhood and go to a very diverse church, which means I get all sorts of messages and examples about what it means to be a parent.

Swirl all that together, and mix in my limitations and foibles, and you have a recipe for finding it very easy to admit that I don't know much and could sure use some help. So these are some of my takeaways from all of this chatter about parenting, realizing that other people will take away other things because they are further along in their comfort level with how they want to be as parents (in no particular order; I suppose I should have a cohesive line of thought here, but I haven't figured out that line yet):

* One size doesn't fit all. Parenting would seem to be a trial-and-error process of figuring out what works in the intersection between a unique parent, a unique child, and unique relational dynamics, all three of which evolve over time. So it seems ludicrous to lift up a certain approach as "the" way to go. It really is true that the less gifted child who works hard and gets B's deserves to be commended over the supremely gifted child who coasts to A's.

* Rote memorization is in fact a useful thing to push kids to get good at. It is not natural to do something over and over again until you get good at it. But it is the only way to be successful at anything. So says Malcolm Gladwell in "Outliers." So it would seem to be a useful skill to work hard with your kid to develop.

* Preparation for future success requires a whole range of experiences and skill sets. as David Brooks points out, sleepovers, much vilified by Chua as useless and trivial, are wonderful preparations for the real world, because of the nuances of the power dynamics of social groupings.

* Straight A's may indicate sub-optimal time allocation. There is something positive to taking the extra effort to go from B+ to A. On the other hand, perhaps that effort could be better allocated in an extra-curricular activity, thus presenting a more well-rounded portfolio that isn't just about book smarts. Having gotten straight A's all through junior high and high school, I resolved pretty early on in my college career that if I was continuing to get straight A's, I was either not doing enough stuff outside of the classroom or I wasn't taking hard enough classes, for it would mean I was burning my precious time and brain space on the diminishing return of getting all the way to A, instead of pushing myself in more and diverse areas.

* Tread carefully, but do tread, on the issue of China eating us for lunch. Governor Rendell went there in a very insensitive and racist way, conjecturing that not only would the Chinese line up for a football game in the snow, but would do calculus on the way to the game. (What's up with that, Ed?) On the other hand, to the extent that we give in to "loser" talk about always doing what feels right and never pushing yourself, we are in fact ill-preparing our kids to compete in what will be a more globally demanding world. Even worse, we're telling them that "they're OK" when they really might not be. We all see how different the distribution of jobs will be in the future economy, and how much training will be required to land a "have" job versus a "have not" job.

* Self-esteem isn't the most important thing. On a related note, it was telling when my pastor led a parenting class last year, and some of the parents from the Chinese congregation that meets in our building attended as well. He started the discussion by asking us what is the most important thing for kids to learn in their childhood. All of the Americans said "for kids to be comfortable with themselves and to like themselves." All of the Chinese said "for kids to not embarrass themselves or their families." I'm not saying one side is all right and one is all wrong, but, with some exceptions in cases where there really are some deeper mental health issues going, parents don't do well to work directly on self-esteem as much as other development goals, from which self-esteem will naturally follow.

* Make it hurt a little sometimes. The real world, as noted above, can be cruel at times. We do a disservice to our kids to overshield them from pain. It's healthy to feel the sting of our punishments, whether physical or emotional, and to not have every comfort provided with no questions asked. When I discipline my kids and they respond with "I'm not your friend any more" or "you hurt my feelings," I have to stifle a smile, because I know that I am doing my job right.

Parenting is a bewildering occupation. Making sense of all of the commentary that has erupted around this meme has been no less bewildering. But these are, I think, some of the concepts I am holding on to, however lightly and flexibly, as I seek to be a good parent to my two kids. I'm neither asking "what would tiger mom do," nor am I discarding her approach wholesale as mean-spirited and dangerous. Instead, and don't tell my kids this, I'm figuring out as I go along. And I've got a lot of figuring out left to do. But I'm glad for Amy Chua's ways, and for what they've sparked in terms of responses and in terms of my own reactions to them.

I Am Waiting in Line Already

Having stumbled my way through Jada's kindergarten enrollment process, I am no longer a Penn Alexander virgin. But this story is extremely unnerving to me: "Parents Brave Arctic Overnight for Kindergarten." Registration was yesterday, and parents started lining up the night before, even though the temps in were in the single digits.

This time next year, I will have to do this for Aaron. I think I will get in line now. Tell my employer, my church, and my family, if anyone is wondering where I will be for the next 364 days.

Musings Multiplied

Thanks to the relatively frictionless way in which social networking sites play with each other, content I generate can get automatically featured in multiple locations. So, to take one month's worth of stuff as an example (let's choose November 2010):

* There were about 10 posts I posted at both "Musings of an Urban Christian" and "Huang Kids Khronicles"

* There were about 15 other posts I posted at just "Musings," and about five other posts I posted at just "Huang Kids"

* So that's 30 total posts, or about one a day

* Plus I took about 80 pictures with my camera phone, or about 20 pics per week

So that's how much original content I generate. And here's where it all ends up:

* 25 posts at "Musings," 15 at "Huang Kids"

* All my photos and all my posts at "Musings" get automatically posted to my Facebook page, so that's over 100 posts there

* All my photos and all my posts at "Musings" and "Huang Kids" get automatically posted to my LinkedIn profile, so that's about 120 posts there

* Ditto for my Twitter feed, so that's about 120 posts there

* Speaking of Twitter, I have recently set up on my "Musings" and "Huang Kids" pages a Twitter feed, which shows my last five tweets

* Every once in awhile, I'll upload a video onto YouTube, which also gets cross-posted onto Facebook, LinkedIn, and Twitter (and sometimes I'll manually put it on my "Musings" and/or "Huang Kids" page

In other words, from a little bit dreck comes, thanks to the ease of multi-platform cross-posting, lots of dreck. My apologies for the proliferation, as if you needed to see even more updates on what my kids are eating for breakfast and musings on recent school closures in light of less than an inch of snow.

Cutting the Cord

Earlier this month, our household did what so many have done over the past few years: we jettisoned our land line. Now that we have more minutes on our cell phone plans, we hardly used the land line, not even bothering to answer it the few times it rang under the assumption it was a telemarketer. (An every-few-days check of the voicemail confirmed that that was often the case.)

For now, we're keeping the DSL that went with the land line; Verizon explained to me that we can still get Internet access even without the land line, referring to the process as a "dry loop," whatever that means. It's relatively slow (768 Kbps, as opposed to the 10-15 Mbps you see advertised nowadays), but I assume we'll upgrade at some point in the near future once we start adding devices (as of now, we have one desktop, so we'll likely add a wireless modem and laptop next).

I don't think we gave much thought to using this opportunity to upgrade our TV situation (i.e. no cable). The timing of that will be decided by either the US government (once they decide to auction off the last bits of public frequency such that there are no more network stations) or the entertainment industry (should the vast majority of programming we are interested, such as popular reality shows and big-time sporting events, migrate to cable stations only).

This is hopelessly boring to write and read, but I do so for my future self's edification. For, a mere five years from now, when there is an explosion of devices and of regular uses for massive bandwidth for education/entertainment/utility/safety purposes, the fact that we have one workstation and less than 1 Mbps of Internet speed will seem really archaic. (Judging from what I gather about my friends' home set-ups, I believe it already is!)

NFL Playoffs Week 3 Musings (Not to be Used for Gambling Purposes)

Last weekend was great for watching good football and lousy for making gambling picks. (I went 1-3.) Who cares, it's not like I have real money on these predictions. (Now if you'll excuse me, I need to take inventory of my possessions so I can start listing them all on eBay.)

STEELERS (-3) over Jets
Can the mouthy Jets, having beaten Manning in Indianapolis and Brady in New England, beat Roethlisberger in Pittsburgh? I say no, because Big Ben can extend plays long enough for receivers to get open. Meanwhile, I’m still not sold on the Sanchize, least of all in Heinz Field against that defense. By the way, what will Pittsburgheans be saying after Sunday: “one for the other index finger"?
Prediction: Steelers 20, Jets 13

Packers (-3) over BEARS
Aaron Rodgers made all the throws last weekend, and he made them with ease. He won’t be able to do that in Soldier Field against the Bears, but he’ll make enough to make the Cheeseheads delirious. Meanwhile, Jay Cutler turns into a pumpkin.
Prediction: Packers 20, Bears 13

As you can see below, I am predicting (rooting for?) an epic showdown two weeks from now between two storied franchises. A guy can dream . . .

Wussies, Redux

I arose this morning at the usual early hour, to pray, exercise, and, in the case of today, clear off the car for Amy. As we were expecting some accumulation from the night before, going out to take care of the porch and the car would afford me a sense of whether or not the streets were bikeable. I held my breath, as not being able to bike makes my commute a lot more complicated and time-consuming.

So I exhaled in relief when the accumulation ended up being hardly an inch. I shoveled the porch and sidewalk but could've easily used a broom. And the car was cleared within minutes with simple sweeps of the hand brush.

Remembering that to check is better than to assume, I refreshed the School District's Twitter page. That's when I read this:

All SDP schools will open on a 2 hr delay for students ONLY today. All other staff and personnel follow inclement wx delayed open protocol.

Excuse me? Is this a joke? Or was there a half-dozen of inches of extra snow that fell everywhere else in the city besides my block? On retrospect, the "wintry mix" from earlier this week was potentially impactful in terms of school openings. But this morning's "accumulation" is nothing. I give up.

Lee Huang Endorses David Oh for Philadelphia City Council At Large

David Oh posted a clip of my endorsement of him last week at the National Constitution Center. You can find it here. I was nursing a terrible cold but made the trek downtown to stand with David and put in my perspective that here we have someone who lives a life worthy of public service. Given that, once again, as in 2003 and 2007, he will be in the race of his life, I ask you to consider giving him your vote this year.

Birthday Wishes for Mom

It's my mom's birthday today. Along with birthday wishes, I pass along my hopes that 2011 will bring stability in her physical health and daily routines, such that she can regularly go out and do things and see people and be active. And though my dad has been a surprisingly quick study in the kitchen, here's also hoping they can renovate the kitchen so my mom can do some of her patented home cooking for us next we're in town; I think that would make us all really happy. Happy birthday, Mom.

Governor Rendell Was Right: We Are Becoming a Nation of "Wussies"

I was shocked - shocked, I tell you - when Jada and I got to her school courtyard yesterday morning to find it empty. We went all the way to the front door and found a small sign reading, "Will open two hours late." And all because of a "wintry mix" that was surprisingly fun to scrape off the car before Amy took it out for the morning and surprisingly difficult to bike in.

I had no idea to even register this as inclement weather, thus triggering even a look at the school district's website or turning on KYW. We trudged home, I got Jada settled, and proceeded to do my best to make the most of two hours at home, in terms of getting work-related stuff done on the computer.

Look, I'm as wimpy as they come when it comes to bad weather. I left California almost 20 years ago, and I'm still soft as it relates to the cold and to the elements. I'm already tired of the biting wind, the slushiness, and the way everything gets wet and dirty and messy.

But opening school two hours late in this kind of weather, after a dubious school closing last week because of about four to six inches of snow, seems absurdly hair-triggered. Governor Rendell was right: we are becoming a nation of "wussies." At this rate, I fear my kids won't have very many "when I was kid" stories involving arduous travel conditions to tell their grandkids.

Code of the Street

Our West Philadelphia neighborhood was in the news twice last week, both for bad reasons. First there was the five-alarm fire in the apartment complex on 48th and Walnut, and then there was the knife fight that took place during the morning commute at the subway station at 46th and Market Streets.

Both of these locations are less than five blocks from our house, and put us a little on edge for the next several days. Jada is deathly afraid of fire and smoke, so we had to tread lightly on that issue, assuring her that we take all precautions possible to ensure that we won't ever have a fire in our house and keeping her away from graphic images on TV and in the newspaper.

As for the knife fight, this one cuts closer to home. That's the subway station we use all the time. And, the combatants in the scuffle were boys from two very good local schools, a Catholic school in one case and a prep school in the other case, all of them by all accounts good kids from good families and likely college-bound.

No matter, sometimes, on these mean streets. For competing for influence on the behavior of young men, in addition to middle-class parents with solid values and to an aspiring student's dreams of college and gainful employment, is the very real "code of the street." That phrase is a reference to a book written by Dr. Elijah Anderson, a sociology professor at the University of Pennsylvania, and it refers to a moral code that young boys often feel bound by in inner city settings. It is not a totally unadmirable code, but it can be destructive and senseless at times, the guarding of "respect" leading otherwise upwardly mobile boys to do terrible things like hurl insults and stir up trouble and even pull a knife or a gun in a crowded public setting.

I do not wish for the homogenizing context of the suburbs. I like that many different people from many different walks of life are layered on top of each other in our big city neighborhood. But fire and knives are scary things. And it is uncomfortable to me how prevalent is the underlying ethos that governs the behavior of many of our young boys, because it is an ethos that can threaten to inflict collateral damage, and the next time something like this happens we might not be so lucky that there were no other negative impacts beyond those directly involved.

It is part of your kids growing up that you have to deal with big boy and big girl issues, I suppose. But I wish I had more time to figure out how to tell my little girl about fires and my little boy about what moral codes are out there and which it is I want him to live his life by.

Status Seeking

I remember once reading someone condemn Facebook for making it easy for people to cheat on their spouses by looking up, flirting with, and making plans with old flames. I found this sentiment laughable, since it’s obvious to me that the moral offender is the cheater, and not the mechanism for carrying out the cheating.

But I must confess that while I have not used Facebook to sin in that way, it is a source of stumbling for me in another way, and on an almost daily basis. My sin can be described in a number of ways, depending on how Christiany or high-falutin’ you want to be: keeping up the Joneses, covetousness, jealousy, envy, insecurity, poor self-image.

It happens when I read about others’ statuses and compare myself negatively with them. Someone’s photos and ravings about a great vacation in some exotic faraway locale make me feel bad that I haven’t gotten to do something fun like that. Someone doting on their kids’ piano playing or dance recitals makes me feel bad that I haven’t signed up my kids for anything like that. Someone sharing enthusiastically about a great political event or social cause or ministry success makes me feel bad that I don’t have time or energy or talent to accomplish in that way.

Maybe you’re not as insecure as I am, so you find the paragraph above to be pathetic and petty. Well, I admit it is pathetic and petty because I am pathetic and petty. Facebook didn’t make me that way; I take responsibility. But Facebook does facilitate me having my own little pity parties on an almost daily basis.

Please don’t misunderstand me here. I’m not castigating Facebook for this. Nor am I castigating others for flaunting their vacations or their kids or their achievements. I am just pointing out that, at least for me, the itch to not be satisfied with myself, and to instead be ever comparing myself with others, is easily scratched through Facebook and through the endless parading of others’ statuses before me.

Some people tell me they enjoy Facebook because it is a mindless escape for them, a time to turn off for a spell and just veg out. But for those of us who care about the condition of our souls, for whom such sins as envy and jealousy are lifelong struggles, I caution us not to tune out when we log on. For temptation lurks in such places and at such times, and we can be ensnared if we are not mindful.

NFL Playoffs Week 2 Musings (Not to be Used for Gambling Purposes)

I taped all four games last weekend, like I always do, and watched them bright and early the next morning, like I always do. But instead of doing so while running or biking, I was huddled up in a blanket while shivering and blowing my nose. Yup, whatever bug has hit every other person around here hit me hard, which dampened my enjoyment of the festivities.

Still, it was fun to watch, even if the Eagles' season is now over and I only went 2-2 on my "purely for recreational purposes no money was transacted" gambling picks. So let's keep this thing going, shall we? After all, it's only a few more weeks before pro football goes bye bye for several months.

Ravens (+3.5) over STEELERS
The important line here is the over/under, which is 37. Is that points or bone-crushing hits? If the latter, I'll take the over. I'm kind of copping out here, because probably the most likely scenario here is that the Steelers win by a figgie, which would still make this pick right. Still, I think the Ravens are a hair tougher. (I will now avoid direct eye contact with all local Steelers fans.)
Prediction: Ravens 20, Steelers 17

Seahawks (+10) over BEARS
Hey, Seahawk fans, did you ever think two weeks ago when your team was 6-9 that you'd be hosting the NFC Championship Game? Yeah, I would've already made other plans for next weekend, too.
Prediction: Seahawks 20, Bears 17

PATRIOTS (-9) over Jets
Rex Ryan blah blah Rex Ryan blah blah. Tom Brady does his talking on the field. Translation: this will not be pretty. Unless you enjoy Mr. Ryan getting his come-uppance.
Prediction: Patriots 37, Jets 10

Packers (+3) over FALCONS
Loved the Packers' game plan last weekend. Hey Andy Reid, did you see how the other team threw the ball in the air some times, and handed the ball off other times, to the point that no one could really predict what they were going to do next? Yeah, it turns out that kinda works.
Prediction: Packers 20, Falcons 17

Huang Boys on a New Bus Route, One with a Runny Nose and One with a Fat Lip . . . There Must Be a Good Backstory Here

It was a perfect storm over my normally smooth commuting routine: still not feeling anywhere close to 100 percent, big snow the night before meant biking was out of the question, the sloshy conditions made walking slippery and buses run late, and, just to make things fun, Aaron's school was delayed two hours. What to do? Well, keep a running diary, of course: morning and evening.

8:05a - Should've been out the door ten minutes ago but I can never find everything that needs to go on myself and the kids in an efficient manner. You'd think someone as hyper-organized as I am would have a better system for storing hats, gloves, scarves, jackets, and boots, but instead you could peek into our foyer on any given morning and find random items strewn hither and thither with no rhyme or reason. I know, doesn't seem like me, does it?

8:10a - Public schools are closed due to the snow, but Jada's after-school program goes full-day when that happens, so drop-off is just a half-block further up the street. The teacher asks me if I remembered what she told me the night before, which was to bring a change of clothes so that Jada could play in the snow and still have something dry to wear for the rest of the day. I sheepishly look back at her and say I did remember her saying that but then failed to do anything about it once I got home. Disorganized and forgetful: boy, I'm having a helluva day so far.

8:15a - Aaron and I are off down the street to my office. I figure I'm going to have to put him on my shoulders at some point in the journey, but if I can just use the fun that is snow to coax a few blocks out of him, it'll save my legs. Sure enough, he loses himself in childlike mirth, puttering around the magical stuff, making little snowballs, and kicking up white powder.

8:20a - Well, that didn't last long. He now realizes his legs and hands are freezing - we simply don't have the right clothes for him for the snow - and so onto my shoulders he goes, less because he's tired and more because he's cold.

8:25a - Since it's his birthday, I decide to stop at Wawa and let him pick out any drink and any bakery item. He goes with a chocolate milk and a chocolate donut. The woman at the cashier nearly falls over, she can't stand how cute Aaron is. When I tell her it's his birthday, she asks me excitedly, "And what are you going to do for him on his special day?" I shoot back, "this!," pointing to the $1.15 milk and the $0.85 donut. She laughs at first but then realizes that maybe I'm not joking. Look, lady, I'm cheap, I'm tired, and I'm sick - just let me buy something small for the little guy right now, and I'll figure out how to win "dad of the year" some other day.

8:30a - I get Aaron settled into my office. DVD player's got Madagascar on, donut is out of the wrapper, straw is deployed in chocolate milk. Happy birthday boy quietness ensues. I am able to start picking away at my mountainous to-do list.

***

10:00a-10:40a - Getting Aaron to school and then myself back to the office takes significantly longer than usual, and not just because I'm without my bike. For one, Aaron lasts on his own two feet for half a block at a time, so it's slow going carrying him. For another, the terrain alternates between powdery (i.e. strenuous to walk through) and slick (i.e. strenuous to walk through). I am not looking forward to the evening version of this.

***

5:10p - I was really hoping to cut out early but I went backwards on the to-do list, so 5:10 is as good as it's going to get. I speed-walk my way to Aaron's school, mentally calculating how much wiggle time I'll have in order to get to Jada's school before the 6 o'clock witching hour (there may or may not be a grace period, and I sure as heck don't want to find out on a day like today), and realizing it's not much wiggle time.

5:25p - I take a couple of deep breaths as I head into Aaron's classroom and say to myself, "OK, we have to hurry, but we can't hurry Aaron, or else it'll backfire." Sure enough, as I arrive, Aaron ambles over to me with his puppy dog look. His teacher turns around, sees that it's me, gives me a concerned look, and then says, "Just a few minutes ago, Aaron was spinning around and around, and he lost control and bumped his lip pretty good." I get down to Aaron's level and he crashes like a heap into my arms, sobbing, his bottom lip bleeding and pulsating a little. Temporarily, all thoughts of time disappear, and I give him a good long hug to make sure he knows I got his back.

5:30p - OK, enough with the huggy huggy. It's time to get this show on the road. While trying not to rush him, I ever so gently urge Aaron to pick up the pace in terms of the hat, gloves, jacket, and scarf. All of this takes longer because he feels the need to keep a paper towel pressed up against his fat lip. Once we finally get all his stuff on, we actually have to wait, because an incident report has to get filled out, and the teacher who filled it out isn't back yet for me to sign it. Soon enough, she returns, I scrawl my John Hancock, I'm handed a plastic baggy with some ice, and we are on our way.

5:40p - At this rate, it's going to come down to how fast I can carry the little guy and how lucky we are with the timing on buses. Instead, we strike it rich in an unexpected way: a bus that passes right by Jada's school is stopped at an intersection just as we arrive. I have no idea what this bus' route or schedule is, but sure enough, when I flag the driver down and ask him if it's going where I think it's going, he answers in the affirmative. I'm not sure we were even at a stop when he opened the door, but when a crazy guy with a runny nose and a little boy on his shoulders darts into the middle of the street during rush hour the evening after a big snowstorm, I think the SEPTA manual says you're supposed to let them on just for mercy's sake.

5:55p - Now I know why I don't know this bus route . . . it winds everywhere. But it eventually gets us literally to the doorstep of Jada's school, and with less than five minutes to spare.

6:00p - I think I can finally breathe a sigh of relief, now that I have both kids and all of their belongings with me and we are only two blocks from home. But then Jada and then Aaron decide they need to go pee pee. We happen to be right outside a bathroom, so I tell them to disrobe all of their outer garments and pile them on the floor, where I will stand guard while they go. Aaron makes it all the way to the toilet but then wets himself. And I get scolded because it turns out the bathroom is for adults only. Ashamed and smelling of urine, the three of us trudge home in the driving snow, me carrying Aaron fireman-style, and Jada firing off questions rapid-fire, some of which make sense and most of which are complete non-sequiturs.
The two-block walk home is as disorienting as I am making it sound.

But we finally do get home. And, in the grand scheme of things, I suppose that making it safe home with your two precious children is reason enough to be grateful.

We the People

Yesterday afternoon, at the National Constitution Center, David Oh officially announced his candidacy for City Council at Large here in Philadelphia. I was honored to be asked by David to be one of about a dozen people to introduce him and say a few words on his behalf (that's me, fifth from the right). I am sure that, together, our dozen testimonies spoke volumes of the legitimacy of David's candidacy, and I'm not just referring to the words themselves, though there was certainly more than enough in the words to convey David's decency and quality and intellect and merit.

More powerful for me, though, was the sheer diversity of those of us David assembled to stand up with him. All racial and ethnic groups. Men and women. Democrats and Republicans. Old and young. Political neophytes and grizzled veterans. A wide range of professional sectors and city neighborhoods. Union leaders. And a Pentecostal preacher who turned David's campaign's simple request to offer a blessing into a fiery pseudo-sermon that had the aisles rocking and me mock fanning my colleagues to the left and right with my hanky.

It was not lost on anyone that we were in a building dedicated to honoring the founding document of our country, a document that starts with the magical phrase, "We the People." We have layered on top of our political process so much professionalism, so much commentary, and so much cynicism, that we often lose the magic behind that phrase. It is a remarkable tenet, in the face of overwhelming evidence that people are differently endowed in terms of physical, intellectual, and moral quality, that yet we are somehow stronger as a unit when we diffuse power to the level of "the people," instead of concentrating it among the more gifted.

This is the aspect of the American narrative that makes us unique and great. I know it is what stirred David into service. And it is what qualifies him for the office he seeks. For he has demonstrated the ability to marshal a wide range of people to support him. And he has done so by serving a wide range of people: in the military, as a lawyer, and in the community.

It may seem a quaint notion to want your elected officials to be public servants. In fact, it is a quaint notion; it is the very notion that got this whole thing started right here in this very city. "We the People" are still looking for good people to represent them in political matters, and today in Philadelphia, David Oh is one who has my support.

Position Opening - Part-Time Children Youth and Family Director at Woodland Presbyterian Church at 42nd/Pine

Hi all, please let me know if you or anyone you know is interested in this position. I have provided some summary info below and can send anyone the full position description. Hoping for Summer 2011 start.



Job Title:
Director of Children, Youth, and Family (CYF) Ministries

Hours per Week:
15-25

Paid?:
Yes

Start Date:
Negotiable (prefer Summer 2011)



Overview of Position and Opening:

Woodland Presbyterian Church is a multi-ethnic, multi-generational church located in an urban setting at the intersection of campuses and community. We are a PC-USA congregation that was first formed in the 1860’s. Our Sunday morning worship service typically draws 100 worshippers, including 15-25 children. We believe that children, youth, and families are all important members of the family of God, and therefore their spiritual growth is an integral part of the overall health of the church and its mission to the neighborhood around us. The Director of Children, Youth, and Family (CYF) Ministries works in collaboration with other staff, Session, and volunteers from the congregation towards that end. There is always more to do than the time allotted each week, so prioritization, efficiency, and delegation are important components of a successful CYF Director, as is the ability to work with a wide range of children, youth, families, volunteers, and staff members.


Woodland’s staff presently includes a full-time Interim Senior Pastor, a full-time Sexton, a part-time Administrative Associate, and a part-time Music Minister. It is our preference that we are able to fill this position in time for a Summer 2011 start date. If you are interested in this position, please submit your cover letter and resume to Lee Huang, Chairperson of the Personnel Team, at jobs@woodlandpres.net (email), fax (215 386-1725), or mail (42nd and Pine Streets, Philadelphia PA 19104). We will try to answer all inquiries and will contact you if we would like to set up an interview.

Biking in the Snow

Friday morning's snowfall set off a series of huddles between Amy and me. Does she drive us all to work and school? How will she make it to work on time? What about traffic coming home?

But then I went outside to clean off her car and saw how light and powdery the snow was. To be sure, it was a fair amount, enough to accumulate. But it wasn't either too thick or too slippery to attempt the commute by bike. So I told Amy I could take the kids in the morning as usual.

If anything, the snow softened everything: things seemed less frigid, quieter, even beautiful. We three enjoyed the short walk to Jada's school, and as usual, she hopped her way down the half-block from the corner to the courtyard before turning around to wave us goodbye.

From there, Aaron and I gave our two wheels a try. The bike lane was covered in snow, but that was a blessing in disguise: no chance of skidding, much cleaner than the dirtier main parts of the road where cars were, and not nearly thick enough to offer much resistance.

We did have one heart-stopping moment. As I was slowly pedaling up an incline towards a major intersection, we were neck and neck with a snowplow. At the intersection, I looked through the snowplow to make sure no one was coming the other way before heading forward. Unfortunately, the snowplow, which I guess didn't see me (even though I was literally bobbing up and down right outside his passenger side window for several seconds), decided to turn right, right into me. I slammed on the brakes, which didn't help much, and steered the bike hard to the right (kind of like a hockey stop). The snowplow helped by taking a very wide right turn instead of a sharp one. I waited through one cycle of lights at that intersection to catch my breath and shove my heart back down from my mouth back into my rib cage.

From there, it was smooth sailing. No one was going very fast, least of all me, and it was actually kind of fun to crunch through the snow while cars were tackling the far harder task of driving on the slicker roads without skidding.

Aaron didn't have so much fun, I guess; because he's just sitting there, he can get pretty cold, even though I had bundled him up pretty good. So when we arrived at school, he was eager to get inside. But I take comfort that we got there - and home - in one piece.

NFL Playoffs Week 1 Musings (Not to be Used for Gambling Purposes)

For what it's worth, here's how I'm feeling about this weekend's games (which you know I will zoom through the next morning while pounding out the miles on the treadmill and exercise bike, so please no spoilers between the start of the game and 5 the next morning):

Saints (-10.5) over SEAHAWKS
Sorry, Emerald City fans, your playoff game was last week. I'm not sold on a deep run by N'awlins, but this one won't be close.
Prediction: Saints 24, Seahawks 10

COLTS (-2.5) over Jets
Suddenly frisky Colts run game + in order to win on the road your QB actually needs to be able to complete passes = ugly but comfortable Colts win.
Prediction: Colts 20, Jets 10

Ravens (-3) over CHIEFS
Raucous Arrowhead crowd just makes Ravens toughen up all the more. By halftime I begin to imagine whether the Raiders would've offered more resistance.
Prediction: Ravens 24, Chiefs 10

Packers (+2.5) over EAGLES
Sorry, Eagles fans. Everyone else thinks this is a close matchup but I'm sensing a blowout. Vick doesn't do cold weather and is banged up, so an early sack is followed by lots of bad body language, and the crowd at the Linc tightens up accordingly. Meanwhile, Rodgers carves up the Eagles' porous pass D, leading to all sorts of buzz about a deep run for the NFC's sixth seed. I wouldn't bet against them from here to Dallas.
Prediction: Packers 27, Eagles 13

Car Usage, City vs. Suburb

My December 2010 car usage splits were 5/12/1 (5 unique trips, 12 legs, 1 time driven). That was for the first 29 days of the month, and includes the ride we got to the airport by Amy's dad on our way to San Jose.

While in San Jose for one week (Wednesday to Wednesday), my car usage splits were 9/18/4. And this was with very mindful avoidance of the car: we walked to my cousin's house twice instead of taking the car (once under an increasing rain), walked to two separate playgrounds instead of driving to them, and parked the car in between two downtown sights and walked in between them instead of parking at one place and then driving to the second place.

The point is that lower car usage is only partly a matter of personal choice. It is also (you might argue more so) a matter of land use patterns. In inner city West Philadelphia, it is not much of a hardship to walk to work, school, and church: there have been numerous times that I've gone weeks without stepping foot in a car. In suburban West San Jose, it is almost impossible to go even a day without using the car once or twice.

Back from Cali

A little light lately on the posting over here, due to being in San Jose between Christmas and New Year to see my parents. Check out dispatches and pictures over at Huang Kid Khronicles.