Happy Birthday, Blog

I just topped 60 entries and reviewed the dates--I've been at it now a year and almost a month. It's not impressive, only one entry per week average, but it's good for me. No expectations nor resolutions to announce for Musement Park, but I hope to live up to the quality, entertainment, and deep thinking of some of the other blogs I frequent, someday.

Chips Ahoy!

It's that time again...time for me to rant about implants.

See RFID as a jumping point. Or consult this blog RFID Weblog or this one, RFID Journal.

I think this rolls around about every six months, whenever I meet with opposition among the students I share this with. Some find it incredulous. Others find it too "science-fictiony." I imagine a few will simply forget about it for now, then ultimately admit I was right.

I am, for those who have endured this blog since the old days, referencing again biometric implants. For those who may be new to this, they are essentially little pellets of silicon implanted just under the skin, about the size of a grain of rice. Their purposes range (presently) from identification to credit to tracking. The ultimate abuse of them--yet to be determined.

They are marketed under the best of intentions. If your child were to go missing, an Amber alert issued, wouldn't you want to be able to track his/her whereabouts with GPS technology? What parent could say no? It will eventually not only be out-of-vogue to resist chipping your kid, it may be considered negligence. Some schools are already insisting on such implants. Truancy problems--solved. Attendance records--solved. "Now all please raise your hand for today's scan." Chipping is also suggested as a way to reduce a school's liability, for if a kid is injured or abducted while standing on school property, the school is, of course, considered somewhat to blame. If it can be proven the child was off-grounds, no sweat.

Some soldiers have been chipped, sort of a digital dog tag. Uniforms have long had chips in them for battlefield tracking and oversight. Pets have been chipped for coming up on ten years--you wouldn't want your dog show purebred out cavorting around unsupervised, would you? Cattle once wore brands, then ear tags, and now more and more commonly, they are being chipped. This allows ranchers to track their livestock in the event of a blizzard or worse, cattle rustlers. It also allows feedlots to tailor feed rations to specific groups of cattle more easily, for with a simple scan one can determine a great deal of information (diet history, vac. and vet. records both on and off site, etc).

Obviously it can be equally useful for medicine. Recently we had to endure ENDLESS and REPETITIVE questions on health and medical history which could simply be uploaded from one's own personal implant. If, perchance, one were travelling abroad, and say, one had a complicated illness or medical emergency--even if unconscious, one's medical history could be readily scanned/swiped, and treatment provided immediately.

Last Valentine's day, a couple was on the radio boasting of their ultimate trust toward one-another, so very much so that they bought chip implants for one another on Valentine's Day. No matter where one of them is, the other can be in-the-know. Trust me baby, you can watch my every move.

Advertisers have had a hankering for this technology to become commonplace for some time. In today's era of narrowcasting, where one home can be delivered different commercials than the neighbor, where we can dissect demographics to reach the most specific buyers...the potential for digitally accessible demographics is irresistible. In Minority Report, we saw the lead character exposed to various billboards addressing him by name, offering him products that would be best suited to him individually.

That seemed crazy a few years ago, but it is almost here today. Yesterday on NPR I heard of a new billboard in operation targeting Mini Cooper owners (and of course, potential buyers). The billboard scans traffic passing nearby, and whenever a Mini Cooper (with an implant not unlike these bio-chips) passes, the billboard offers up a personalized greeting, comment, etc. I drive by and it reads: "Hello Dejavaboom! How's that [job, family member, hobby, etc] treating you." It knows information about me, for it's been collected and offered up by a vaaaaaaast assembly of demographic and information services, not the least of which my product registration forms, my customer satisfaction surveys, my credit card buying habits/history...etc. If billboards are already interactive, what's coming next?

Credit cards can now be swiped from a few feet away. Credit chips are becoming ever-more-common. Advantages abound: you don't lose it, damage it, and it's not readily stolen. Originally touted as the end of identity theft, it is quickly becoming clear that these can be scanned and pirated from a distance (currently of inches to yards...but later, maybe miles!)

To me, it all comes back to identity and sanctity. I don't want to be locked into a spending pattern, marketed to based on buying habits. I don't want everyone with the technology to be able to know my medical and credit history. I don't want such things associated with my physical self. I know I need such information to rent a car or be admitted to a hospital, but something w/n me says, "Hey, if I want to go incognito or change my ways, I will."

Keep those chips away from me.

Tuesdays with Morrie

I missed this book when it came out, though I'd heard all the buzz and thought it would be interesting. Now, since it was in a clearance bin, I've gotten my hands on it. In case anyone has not been exposed, Tw/M is about an elderly sociology professor facing death, as told by a sports journalist/former student, Mitch.

It prompts me to get busy with the biography writing I wish to do. I need to find some clients. Everyone has a story to tell, but few folks take the time themselves or hire it out.

I have an aunt and uncle both in their 70's and a great uncle in his 80's...they would be great folks for me to start with. I want to master the craft of capturing the nuggets of life. I want to learn how to interview folks to draw the marrow of life from them (figuratively, of course).

I keep putting this off, for I have no professional training, but it's something I have an ever-increasing interest in. T w/Morrie has just inspired this, again.

Belated Welcome to the World, Edison!

It's been over a WEEK and I've still not written this--geez!

On Tuesday, January 9th at 7:48am Edison Dwayne was brought into this world, 6.78lbs, 18 inches. (I took photos of everything they'd let me, witnessed the entire C-section for the third time, etc.)

Edison, a name that my (then) 3 year old dreamed up, is consistent with the other two boys (Jaxson, Carson). All three boys have middle names beginning with "D." They are all blonde and blue eyed. Someday, the three amigos will be a force to be reckoned with.

If you've not encountered the most excellent collection of essays online, This I Believe, take the time. Here's just one essay sharing thoughts similar to what I have to share with Edison. I'm sharing such things with him offline, however, in a hardcopy journal I keep for the family.

I will share (in spite of how many readers tire of wrinkly new baby stories) that I am a very proud and happy father. I see in my sons the greatest potential. I hope not to twist and tweak them out of their own directions, but to help/coach them where they want to be. Edison, being the third (and my wife says final) child, the baby of the family, will likely be the hardest to let go some day. I've already written here of my pre-anxiety related to future parenting issues...and I imagine the letting go will always be the hardest.

Quite the turn around for a guy who just over 4 years ago felt threatened by kids, felt they'd be life-sucking, demanding, pooping and eating machines I would never be able to relate to!

My best example of the benefits of learning comes from my old neighborhood. Chuck was my neighbor, a living legend who was then in his late seventies. He had the traditional Horatio Alger story of come-uppance, eventually climbing to status of a CFO for a major Wichita corporation. One day he shared his secret of success with me: “Learn something every day.” This edict had been given him by the company founder, a man who took a sincere interest in his employees and their personal success. Chuck said that his boss would check in on his progress regularly, and he never wanted to let his boss down. The challenge of always learning something new propelled his success. It was the juice that kept him going, and going, and going. When my neighbor shared this with me, the war in Iraq was just starting, and that week he had decided to learn about Islam.

So from my vantage point of the outside, I’m going to look into the kitchen…you know, where food is cooked. The kitchen, it’s a place where men fear to trod, yet women are best found barefoot and pregnant, so the thinking runs. It’s that room in the house most costly to remodel. It’s that place that is moving from linoleum and lace to granite countertops, indirect lighting, and hardwood flooring. It’s a place entire magazines are now dedicated to, and it is the center of every convenience and innovation in America, from gizmos and utensils to processed cheese food.

From my vantage point of an English teacher, I have an appreciation for nice, short Anglo-Saxon words like food and cook. That words such as these survive the millennium and remain monosyllabic and virtually unchanged (except a vowel shift, but we’re not going there) tells me that they must be central to our culture and our humanity.

From the vantage point of a guy with an appetite, I have an even greater appreciation for the kitchen and all that comes out of it. Nothing beats the aroma of baking bread wafting through the home. As we have all just turned the calendar past the seasons of celebration, all those smell-good, feel-good memories are likely fresh at hand. I surprise myself that I have mouth-watering recall of my grandmother’s noodles served at Thanksgiving over thirty years ago. Food, then, is fundamental to our memories.

Once upon a time, not only was the product of the kitchen central to memory, culture, and humanity, but the place of its production was, as well. Food did not come from a kitchen, that is, “the place of cooking,” but it was shared from the hearth.

I was discussing this column idea with some people, and the term hearth was so alien to them, they thought I had a lisp. “You mean, ‘heart,’ right?” That sent me on an etymological dig, which I will spare the reader, except to report that though nearly homophones, the two words have different origins and root meanings, save this: hearth is ‘burning place’ while heart is ‘center.’

I was recently reading an architect’s dissertation of the displacement of the hearth by technological advance. Architects are always looking for something to design around, whether it’s a theme or a mood or a philosophical theorem. (I know, I had some for roomies in college, and they were constantly rearranging our dorm room desks and beds to evoke atmosphere.) This dissertation’s thesis really struck home (no pun intended) when it explained the physicality of the hearth and its evolution. Virtually all anthropological digs seek tools and/or fire as indications of civilization. Early fire pits evolved to indoor fire pits, a hearth. (Note: a nice, simple Anglo-Saxon word here, again?) As we became more sophisticated, the fire pit took on a mantle, chimney, etc, and the beautiful burning place became a fireplace. The term hearth now defines that part of a fireplace that is visibly containing fire, a stony, fireproof, protective spot.

The architect claimed that the hearth once was the center, a focus of warmth and family life. Cooking yes, but also home heating, light, and conversation were all huddled around the hearth. Then, as technology advanced, smaller, cleaner, and more insulated methods of containing fire reduced the hearth to a stove, a machine. He continued, stating, “The stove is now present in the kitchen as a machine, independent of its environment and not able to evoke nor support the making of a place. It is a functional object now disconnected from its past and from its ability to contribute to family life.” As with so many other advances, there comes a loss.

I have cleaned fireplaces and wood stoves, and I am, as a result, a champion of central heat and air…and microwave ovens for that matter. Truth be told, I like to cook; I just don’t like to clean up. As a bachelor, I spent my fair share of time in the kitchen thawing out frozen dinners and making SPAM sandwiches. As a married man, I know my place is traditionally in the garage or simply outside; however, in my home, I’m welcome in the kitchen. Our home has a sizeable kitchen, and in light of my exploration of the hearth, I’m dedicating myself to reclaiming some of the atmosphere of the ‘burning place.’ I’m hoping to change the center of my home from the glowing blue box to the warm, fulfilling flame.

That’s, erh…not a resolution, just a goal for the new year.

You talkin' to ME?

Parenthood continues to enlighten me. Now I'm even going to use it to develop a story idea I've been camped on a while. In the story, a character encounters himself-from-the-future (I know, it couldn't happen, due to space/time laws, etc, but it's fun to think about) who has returned to help his former self. I've found it engaging even to think about--how much would future self tell present self? how would present self feel about being mentored by himself? truly, how potent IS hindsight? ...stuff like that.

In the story, they come to conflict over --well, I won't say here-- but that was always a bit flat before I made a point of view shift. Even then, it was just not going anywhere.

Then, just last month, I had a parenting epiphany which will contribute to my creativity...my son, Jax, is not only my spittin' image, he is not only genetically a mini-me, he also has (for better or worse) my disposition, my imagination, my spirit--it's like he's a clone only better, for he still hops off his own way. Yesterday, I had a 'discipline moment' which I just absolutely hate...anyway, he responded exactly like I would have. I told my wife, it's like fighting with myself. Then, I started trying to double think: "If I were him, and x were my discipline, then what would I do--and how, knowing that, can I change up the discipline or the stimulus/response to get better results?" ...that sort of thing.

It plays perfectly in to the story from the current perspective I'm writing. Thanks son!