Everyday people

Since I’ve been living in Seattle’s Belltown neighborhood, I’ve been reading community blogs like BelltownPeople (a.k.a. Belltown People, belltownpeople) to find out what’s going on around here. Last Wednesday, Jesse and Trina, the people behind the blog, held a meeting for readers, neighborhood residents, and pretty much everybody who wanted to come.

The meeting was held in a basement of a hostel that wasn’t far from my apartment. Nothing could be too far away since this isn’t a huge neighborhood, but it was particularly close. There was free pizza and beer, and I was one of the first people to show. There were plenty of subjects for pre-meeting chatter, such as hobbies (I guess blogging is my main hobby these days since that’s what I talked about).

Eventually, about six or eight people had come, and something like an official meeting began. Jesse wanted to know how BelltownPeople could be improved. If I hadn’t gone to the meeting, I wouldn’t have known that everyone is free to sign up and write posts for the blog, so I volunteered that that aspect should be more prominent on the site. I didn’t even know that the blog had multiple authors, so I suggested that each article have a photo of the author near the byline. Yes, I’m quite often a blog skimmer, and as a joke I was going to insert a nonsense phrase into this sentence to see if anyone would catch it, but I think everyone would and I would never live it down. I am not clever enough to make that work. I mean, you are all too smart.

Anyway, there was also some discussion about the neighborhood, like restaurants closing, sidewalks not getting fixed, and those sorts of things. Jesse also asked each of us to share a Belltown moment we had had. Several people explained why they believe it’s a good place to raise children, pointing out that great places for a day out with kids are in walking distance whereas they would be too far away if you lived in the suburbs. Others compared urban Belltown favorably to the clean, “censored” suburban neighborhoods.

I hadn’t been in the neighborhood long enough to really get a feel for it, so I just explained why I chose to live there. I had been researching neighborhoods near Amazon’s headquarters, and the Walk Score website, first featured in the World of Stuff post of January 23, 2008, indicated that Belltown was the most walkable. From there, I did more research and liked what I saw. (My current address has a Walk Score of 97/100, which is typical for Belltown. My last place had a Walk Score of 5, and the new formula revises it downward to 1.)

Jesse said that as a newcomer, I could provide a unique perspective for BelltownPeople, so he invited me to share my thoughts. I suppose I will once I have enough to write about.

It was good to go out and meet people in the neighborhood. I’m looking forward to the next meeting, not to mention any other opportunities to go out and socialize in a setting that’s not awkward for me. I walk to work; I walk to the grocery store; I hardly have any social outings to walk to. Yet.

Time to answer an Ask Jordon question.

Kate: Do you think it’s worth celebrating Valentine’s Day if you’re in a relationship? Are there people who feel unhappy this day? What about you?

I don’t know whether it’s worth it to celebrate Valentine’s Day; I don’t have enough experience. But in my experience, plenty of people are unhappy are about it. It seems that it’s often because they wish they had a girlfriend or boyfriend and are jealous of people who do. Maybe they’re even the majority, but it’s possible that they’re just the loudest people. I used to be like that, but I haven’t been for the past couple of years.

The BBC reports on a French house that’s recently been opened to the public after just sittin’ around for a hundred years.

Amazin’

I work at Amazon.com (but I don’t represent the company here, and the opinions expressed are not necessarily theirs… just in case you weren’t sure about that). I’ve been there for almost a month now, and I know you guys are probably pretty curious to know what it’s like. Even if you’re not, I’ll tell you.

First, a little background: Amazon is headquartered here in Seattle, but it’s grown so fast in its short life that it has office space in buildings around the city. A few years ago, Amazon decided to build its own campus in South Lake Union, a formerly industrial neighborhood close to downtown that’s on its way back to being cool for the first time in, like, forever. Those plans have finally come to fruition, and most people are working in the new campus now. (It’s an urban campus, so it’s really just a set of buildings among some other unrelated buildings and they call it a campus. It’s not like the sprawling suburban campuses like Microsoft and Google have.)

Anyway, my first date was May 31, and I was due to attend New Hire Orientation in the morning. A whole bunch of us new people had an ice breaker about Amazon trivia and got information about health benefits and pretty standard stuff like that. One of the guys in my session had also come from the University of Florida, but with a master’s degree. He said he recognized me, but I didn’t recognize him. I hate when that happens. Each of us also got an ORCA card paid for by Amazon, so we can use most of the region’s public transportation on their dime.

When New Hire Orientation was over, I met my supervisor. It was lunchtime. Since more and more people are working in South Lake Union these days, especially with Amazon moving in, a number of restaurants have sprung up to cater to the weekday lunch crowd. Near the building where I work, an enterprising local restaurateur has set up three new restaurants, so we went to one of them for a quick bite. My supervisor told me about the kind of stuff I’d be working on and asked me about myself. I was pretty nervous, it being my first day and all, but I didn’t collapse into a heap or anything.

I had chosen to work in Retail Systems, so within that area I was assigned to a team that’s working on software to manage inventory orders. My supervisor leads the team but isn’t detached from it; he’s a member of the team like everyone else. At first it was kind of intimidating being around so many adults all the time, but everyone’s cool. I’m not the only young and new person on the team, either. An intern started at the same time as I did, and another one joined us last week. If I had to guess without counting, I’d say there are about ten of us at this point. We probably won’t get too many more people because Amazon likes to have what it calls “two-pizza teams.” It seems like a good rule of thumb.

So, what’s a typical day like for me? I can get in whenever I want; I don’t even have to clock in or clock out. (As long as you’re doing your work, they don’t mind.) Actually, I like to leave my apartment between 7:40 and 7:45 so I can make it to my desk at 8:00 AM. And then I work on software, mostly fixing bugs or adding features I’ve been asked to add. I like to take an hour for lunch, and I usually eat at one of the restaurants within a few blocks of my building. Then, if I have time left over and the weather is nice, I go to Lake Union Park and just sit and watch the seaplanes, sailboats, geese, or whatever else happens to be hanging around. I can’t believe the park is less than a year old; it’s a real treasure.

In the afternoon, it’s back to coding. Some afternoons, I guess about every week or two, a band or author will come to Amazon to plug their latest album or book, respectively, so I figure that’s a fun thing to look forward to. (I’ve been to one so far: The Airborne Toxic Event gave an intimate performance and even had an opening act.) But invariably, at 4:30, my team has its daily stand-up, where everyone fills everyone else in on what they’ve done during the day and what they plan on doing next. I think other teams do this in the morning, but we do it in the afternoon so we can teleconference with one of our teammates who works in Amazon’s Beijing office. And with that, my day at work is over, so I walk back to my apartment, where I arrive 15 to 20 minutes later.

I’m loving it so far, especially because I got my first paycheck today. Yes, I get paid monthly. The check (well, direct deposit) includes half of my signing bonus (the other half comes in a year). It’s been kind of a tough month for me since moving-related expenses were draining me dry. But I don’t have to worry about that anymore.

If you have any other questions about what it’s like to work at Amazon, fire away!

And on an unrelated note, the answer to a question you’ve been wondering about: When did prisoners start dressing in orange?

Here we are now, entertain us

This past weekend, my sister and I visited Seattle so I could get a feel for the city and scope out some places to live.

It started at her apartment on Thursday, where we hung out and walked to a nearby Mexican restaurant. Even though it was Cinco de Mayo, it wasn’t crowded. Well, we were also early. It was a great experience. At my apartment, there are no restaurants within walking distance (unless you want to walk on a road bridge that has no sidewalk). In Seattle, I hope to be within walking distance of most everything.

In the wee hours of the morning, we made it to Orlando International Airport, and from there we flew west. In doing so, she lost the #1 fun fact she’s uses to describe herself: that she’s never been on an airplane. She’ll have to think of something else now! But I’d never been out west at all, so really, the trip was new for both of us.

We were flying to LA for a layover, so from the plane, we were able to see the Southwest’s mesas, mountains, and canyons in the morning sunlight. What a beautiful sight it was… And then there was LA. I thought I would feel cooler being in LA, having digested all the crap that everyone tells you about California and everything. Instead, I probably caught some sort of lung disease. As luck would have it, we had to go outside and take a bus to a different part of the airport to catch our next flight, and in doing so, we about choked on the filthy air.

Our first flight had been with Delta, but the next was with Alaska Airlines. It seemed more comfortable in a way. The plane was less well-kept, the flight attendants were older, and the pilot was more than happy to point out landmarks like Lake Tahoe as we made our way up the West Coast.

I wasn’t feeling good. I think it was the combination of a total lack of sleep (it’s relatively hard for me), some coffee I had had without sugar (never again), strange eating habits borne of being awake all night and sitting in planes for hours, and a large amount of worrying about whether I’d even like this city I’d been visiting through a computer screen for months, the city that was destined by contract to be my home.

The plane descended, and downtown Seattle appeared behind the gray clouds below. It was all there, the Space Needle and everything. That, I think, is when my attitude really started to turn around.

It was cold as we got out of the airport. It was also raining. We took the Link Light Rail from the airport to downtown. Where the other passengers saw the usual sights, I sat with wonder. I hope never to lose that sense of wonder one should have in new places. Same with being on a plane. Everyone in an airplane always seems so bored, even as it’s taking off and landing. A lot of them don’t even bother to look out the window. What a shame.

Once we made it to the right station downtown, I found the hotel Amazon had booked for me and checked in. After taking a breather, we decided to walk to the 5 Point Cafe in the nearby neighborhood of Belltown. Belltown is where I want to live, and the 5 Point, I am led to believe, is a Seattle institution. It also has chicken-fried bacon, so we would have had to check it out anyway.

It wasn’t a long walk. We could see the Space Needle from where we sat in the restaurant, so after enjoying some soul food (including the bacon, which came with biscuit gravy), we headed to Seattle’s most famous attraction. It was very windy up there, but we stayed outside long enough to get a few good pictures. I also pointed out the locations of Amazon’s new headquarters and some of the apartments we were going to be touring.

Next, we took the monorail to the Westlake Center. It’s a short ride, barely more than two minutes, but it saves some walking and is pretty fun. It goes to the Westlake Center, which is this shopping center closer to downtown. (I guess you could say it’s actually downtown, but Seattle’s neighborhoods exist only unofficially, so it can be hard to say what’s where.)

While my sister shopped there and at Nordstrom’s flagship store, I thought. I hate the cold and the rain, so Seattle sounds like an odd choice for me. But it seems like a really interesting and liveable city, and the fact that I have a lucrative job lined up there doesn’t hurt at all. It’s just… the weather. At any given time, I was wearing almost all of the clothes I had packed (including three shirts and a windbreaker), and I was still cold. It was unbelievably windy at times. If it was going to be like this all the time, I wasn’t going to like it.

The next morning, it was pretty clear out; I could see snow-capped mountains from the hotel room. The forecast called for it to be cloudy and drizzly all day with only a few “sun breaks.” Neither my sister nor I had heard the term before, and we thought it sounded pretty sad. In Florida, we have cloud breaks.

We started our day by going to a doughnut place I had heard of called Top Pot Doughnuts. It was also in Belltown, so we were able to walk there too. If you like doughnuts, you’ll love Top Pot. Their doughnuts are fantastic. I also had a cherry blossom, which is their cherry milkshake. It was good, but with the doughnuts, there was too much sweetness there, and that’s saying a lot coming from me. Everything’s good, but don’t get the cherry blossom and the doughnuts at the same time.

My destination services consultant (hired by Amazon) had made six appointments for me at apartment complexes in the area, so our next task was to visit those. Everyone we talked to was really nice, and nobody really tried to get me to sign a lease right there (which was good because the consultant said that might happen). Some buildings had only a few stories and others were very tall. Some didn’t look so good and others were very fancy. Some places impressed me more than others, so I managed to come up with a few favorites. The whole point of the trip was to do just that; I didn’t have to pick one just yet.

Between appointments, we had time to slip away to the famous Pike Place Market, where they throw the fish. For lunch, we split a Dungeness crab BLT and a salad from a nearby restaurant called Seatown. We also were able to go to the Olympic Sculpture Park, which is right on the water and is run by the Seattle Art Museum. The weather was better than forecast; it was actually sunny some of the time (but it was still pretty windy too).

After the last appointment, I was tired of seeing apartments. We had a little bit of time left to go to the Experience Music Project, a music museum near the Space Needle. We met up with my friend Mark to check it out.

Mark is quite a bit like me. We’re both left-handed; we both use the Dvorak keyboard. We both enrolled in the University of Florida, majoring in computer science and minoring in business administration. We were both in the honors program and both lived in Hume Hall. We both got jobs in the Dean of Students Office and were both officers in the Esperanto Club and Students for Free Culture. And then we both got hired by tech companies in the Seattle area and moved or are moving there. Actually, he’s a year older than I am, so I followed him into many of those things, but it’s just a coincidence that we’ll be living near each other in the same city after we’ve both graduated.

Anyway, we checked out the Nirvana exhibit at the Experience Music Project. I learned a lot about Nirvana, and it was cool to see all their broken guitars and stuff. I’m sure nobody expected them to end up in a museum someday. Seattle seems to be pretty proud of the fact that it was the musical capital of the world for a few years.

After that, the three of us moseyed to Amazon’s headquarters in the South Lake Union neighborhood. If I hadn’t known where it was, I wouldn’t have found it. There don’t seem to be any markings of any kind; just some big, new buildings with yellow accents and a courtyard in between with some tables. I’m going to be working there. I still can’t really get a grip on the thought.

Mark had to get going, but we asked him to recommend a place for dinner. He told us about a restaurant called Etta’s where they had good seafood. We followed his directions and found that it was right next to the restaurant where we had lunch. After dinner, we went back to Pike Place Market, where my sister, who is Starbucks’ #1 fan, visited the first Starbucks. After that, we went to a candy store and got some sweets. There’s always room for candy.

(no jurdon there isn’t thats how you get fat)

From there, we walked through the heart of downtown, all the way to Pioneer Square and back. On the way, a drunk and/or homeless guy started talking to us and wouldn’t leave us alone even though we weren’t really responding to him. We got rid of him by walking into the first place we passed, which happened to be a shop. The shopkeeper was closing up shop, but I explained our situation. She was nice and talked about how the police cracks down on homelessness whenever Seattle plays host to a big event.

This is an issue I’ve grappled with before, but I’ll probably have to confront it much more often now. How does one deal with homeless people respectfully? Our society does so much to make them miserable, but I realize that they’re people and that they deserve to be treated as such. I don’t necessarily want to talk to them all the time—I don’t necessarily want to talk to anyone all the time—but I want to do a little bit to help them out without sustaining their bad habits, even if it’s just giving them a $5 gift card for Denny’s or something. On the other hand, I don’t want anyone to grow dependent on me. I also would want to be sure they’re actually homeless and not just out collecting cash for fun. It’s a tough situation.

Anyway, I was exhausted after a big day, and I was sad that it was almost over, but I was excited that I’d be going back soon.

On Sunday morning, we went to Top Pot again, and then we were off to the airport. This time we had a layover in Minneapolis, so we got to see some different scenery on the way there, including the Rocky Mountains (which the Alaska Airlines pilot duly pointed out). Then we flew back to Orlando and made it back to Gainesville. It was a lot of traveling, but we did a lot while we were in Seattle.

I’ll be back there in less than two weeks, this time for good. I’ll be moving into corporate housing at first, and that’s when the more serious apartment search will begin. I guess if I can stay warm, everything will be fine.

Recently, I was interviewed over the phone about my involvement in Where’s George? by a journalism student at Arizona State University. He talked to several other people, but I was the one who got the Quote At The End That Summarizes Everything. Nice! Here’s the article.

The college years are over

These past few months, while I haven’t been writing about my trip to Russia, I’ve been focusing on my studies. It was my last semester of college, and I had a lot of stuff on my plate, so I wanted to make sure I did a good job with everything. In my case, I needed to take a full course load this semester to satisfy all my requirements.

One of the things I had to do was complete a senior project. I chose to develop a ride-sharing website in a similar vein as CouchSurfing. I need to make sure the university doesn’t own the rights to it; otherwise I’d like to roll it out myself sometime later.

Since I work on campus, this week is my last week of work. (I think I’ll have to come in on Monday for a little bit, but probably not for long.) At this month’s meeting, on April 14, the other graduating seniors and I were honored with certificates, windbreakers, and catering from Olive Garden. Three of my favorite things right there. They’re going to miss me at work, and I’ll miss being there, but I can’t pass up the opportunity to move out to Seattle and work at Amazon.

I can’t pretend that I haven’t been thinking about the move—I’ve been obsessing over it, actually—but I’ve been trying to reflect on the past four years as well. You know, to wax poetic the way I usually do. I’ve done some fun stuff and made a lot of friends. I don’t think I would have done anything differently if I could do it all again. Maybe I would have gone out more (I played a lot of Minesweeper my freshman year). I think I’ve turned out okay, though.

Right now, I’m kind of in a weird place: My classes are over, but instead of heading home as I usually would have done by now, I’m staying in Gainesville, going to work every day, and waiting for the graduation ceremony. My sister is graduating on Saturday; I’m graduating on Sunday. (Surely she’ll brag about this for years to come, just like how she tells everyone that she’s a minute older than I am.)

I can already tell that college graduation is different from high school graduation: it’s not mandatory, no rehearsals you have to attend, no maximum number of people you can bring, no bullshit. Well, there is some bullshit: Herff-Jones is back and selling college rings. But you and we that have free souls, it touches us not.

So, on Sunday, I shall stride across a stage wearing funny clothes and pretend to receive a diploma. Call it what you want, but I call it closure.

And hey, if you can’t make it or just want to be a total creeper, you can watch my graduation online! Click that link at 5:00 PM EDT on Sunday; that’s when it’s supposed to start.

And while I have your attention, it’s time to bust the myth that fast-food burgers don’t rot because they’ve got nasty stuff in them. Actually, it looks like homemade burgers don’t rot either. (Via The Presurfer)

The great eight

The World of Stuff is 8 years old today! Holy crap. I know some people who aren’t even 8 years old. Actually, I think I don’t.

At this juncture, I’d like to give you a quick update on yours truly. As I alluded to earlier, I’m bogged down with schoolwork, but it’ll all be over soon. The last day of classes is two weeks from today, and I actually don’t have any exams during exam week! Finally!

Mostly I’ve been working on my senior project. The phrase “senior project” has been on my mind so much, in fact, that it’s starting to become hilarious. It’s something about the letter “R,” I think. I had the same problem once when I was working with MATLAB. varargin. Say it a hundred times, and you’ll get what I mean.

When I’m done with my education and they’ve found someone to replace me at work, I’ll have some more time to write about what’s been going on (and what went on during winter break—I know I’m really far behind on that!). And as I move to Seattle and start my career, I’m sure I’ll have a whole lot to say.

One more thing: I haven’t done away with my trademark “Links at the End of the Post.” It just so happens that 7 out of my last 8 posts have been what I call “11:59 posts.” I like to shove my posts out the door by midnight. I know you’ve been missing the links, so here are a few to keep you busy:

Young People on Car Ownership: Meh. That describes me pretty well.

If the most populous countries had the greatest area, China would be the size of Russia, India would be the size of Canada, the US would be the size of itself, and so on down the list. Here’s a map that illustrates that idea. It really gives you a sense of the relative populations of different countries. (Via The Presurfer)

New layout preview

A few months ago, as my boss was talking to me about the importance of having a good resume, he made an offhand remark that resonated with me: If I’m to get a career in web development (or anything computer-related, I guess), then my web site should be my portfolio.

I took a look at my layout, with its wannabe-Web-2.0 stripes and “beta?” badge thing that already looked outmoded when it got off the drawing board, and decided that the whole thing wasn’t really professional enough to be taken seriously. I decided it was time for a redesign.

I’ve been working on a new layout on and off since then, and in my eyes, it’s pretty much done. It just has some rough edges that need be smoothed out. And, rather than springing it on you as a surprise, I’m going to let you have a sneak peek. See that link on the top of the page that says “Switch”? Click that. (You’ll have to enable cookies in your browser. If you don’t know what that means, you needn’t worry.)

So, here’s a brief tour of the new layout:

The first thing you’ll probably notice is the collection of colored squares in the upper-right hand corner. Hate the colors? Reload the page! You’ll almost certainly never get that combination again because the colors are picked at random on each page load. I think you’ll find that randomness usually produces beautiful results.

The new layout will stretch to fit your browser window. There’s a maximum width, though, so if your screen resolution is really high, the page won’t get ridiculously wide. There’s also a minimum width for obvious reasons, but most people shouldn’t encounter that.

On the right, in addition to the usual old stuff, you’ll see my latest tweet (excluding blog post announcements). Basically, this is to get you to follow me on Twitter—not gonna lie. It is also useful if you’re Twitter-averse but still want to keep track of my (formerly figurative, now literal) blog marginalia.

If you’re using the latest version of your browser, you should see everything in the wonderful typeface Linux Libertine. The previous layout uses three different fonts, so I thought I’d consolidate them down to a single one this time, and an elegant one at that.

Speaking of browsers: In the course of designing this iteration of The World of Stuff, I’ve come to a new philosophy. I’m no longer trying to make each page look the same in all commonly-used browsers. Internet Explorer 7 (released in 2006) and 6 (2001!), which are still widely used by certain swaths of the web population, have been holding back the web for far too long as web designers have had to deal with their bugs and their lack of support for useful new features. From here on out, if I want to include an embellishment that superseded browsers don’t support, then I’ll include it as a reward for people who upgrade their stuff.

For the new layout, this means including a row of asterisks after each post even though IE7 won’t display it. In fact, IE8 doesn’t either, but with IE9 just around the corner, I expect everyone to upgrade soon. I know it’s an unrealistic assumption since IE is widely used by businesses, but I don’t care. It may seem unfair to single out IE users in this discussion, but they’re far and away the least diligent when it comes to upgrading. I just want to keep people who fail to update their software from spoiling everyone else’s fun.

As I said, there are still some things I would like to work on. Many of them are formatting cock-ups that have come from years of assuming that paragraphs aren’t indented and have spaces between them. I’m still not sure what I want to do about those, but I’d appreciate your comments and suggestions about anything and everything.

Aaaand here’s a montage of security camera footage showing trucks crashing into an underpass. For the metric people, 11 feet, 8 inches is about 3.5 meters. (Via The Presurfer)

Memorable

Yesterday I was at Turlington Plaza on campus, signing some petition, when one of the guys behind the table said he recognized me. He said he’d taken a class with me, a biology class a few years ago, and pointed in the general direction of the building where the class met. I didn’t recognize him at all, but he had to be right. I’ve only taken one biology class; it was BSC 2008 in Spring 2008. I was dumbfounded: How could anyone have remembered me, especially after all this time?

“I remember everyone I’ve ever had a class with,” he said.

Psh. I sure don’t. Even though our class wasn’t very large (or not many people showed up every day, I can’t remember which), I only remember two of my classmates because they were, well, memorable. One was a big guy who, with his Southern accent and ever-present baseball cap, would contribute to class discussions by mentioning something vaguely relevant about his family’s fish-farming operation. The other was a olive-skinned, short-haired brunette who would smile at me whenever our eyes met in class. She looked a few years older than me, so I feel like she should have graduated by now, but I swear I saw her pass by me on her bike a few months ago, and I think she even said hi.

That’s not what this post is about.

Today, I was eating lunch outside the library when a guy sitting nearby struck up a conversation with me. Using my name.

He said he remembered my name and face from this web site, which he had found while looking for information on how to connect to popular IRC servers from the dorms. (I used to have a small collection of information on the subject, but I took it offline because I thought no one cared. I was wrong!) He even remembered the URL, which he proved by showing me my home page on his iPad.

We started talking about my site, blogging, computers, clubs, and classes. We seemed to get along well. All the while, I was amazed. Sure, this kind of thing has happened before, but it still knocks my socks off. I’ve always dreamed of being a blogging celebrity, or blogebrity, and if a few people on this campus of 50,000 students know who I am because of this site, then who knows how many others recognize me but don’t bother to tell me?

And why does this happen? I guess I’m just a memorable-looking guy with a memorable name and a memorable web site that also has a memorable name. Like Southern Fish Guy and the girl I never talked to, I am memorable in my own way. That’s the only explanation that makes any sense.

Apparently it’s pretty common for college students to cheat by ordering custom-written essays on the Internet. One writer in the biz pseudonymously spills the beans about his shady profession, with details changed to protect the guilty.

First of all, I’d like to thank you for this opportunity…

One of the classes I’m taking is called Legal and Social Issues in Computing. I have to take it for my major, but it’s actually pretty interesting. For example, we’ve watched relevant clips from The Daily Show and The Colbert Report as well as a presentation by my dawg, Lawrence Lessig.

Lately, we’ve been having debates in class. We’ve had to pick a debate topic (and position) from a list. The debates have to do with legal and social issues in computing, if you can believe it. The topic I chose was “Whether people who would never consider shoplifting a music CD from a store are correct when they argue that there is difference between that and downloading the same material for free off a P2P network.”

The fun part is that the debates, for the most part, have two people to a side. My debate was yesterday, so I e-mailed my debate partner beforehand for some ideas about how to argue our position. My main idea was that downloading isn’t stealing because it doesn’t deprive the owner of the original, and my partner had the really ingenious idea of arguing that they aren’t the same because the law gives (vastly) different penalties for each.

I started by making my point, and our opponents countered that downloading should be considered stealing because you’re enjoying the music without paying the author what he or she requires. I had anticipated this response, so I laid out the point that downloads are not equal to lost sales. Or, as I have often seen it said, downloads != lost sales. (It’s a geek thing, really.) My partner also offered her argument.

I thought we were doing pretty well, but our opponents had found that the definition of stealing in the law included using someone’s copyright or something of that nature (I don’t have the exact wording). I couldn’t think of anything to say to that, but by then, the audience (the rest of the class) was busy berating our opponents over some obscure point they had made about RIAA settlement fees.

That was it, really. I think the professor preferred our opponents’ argument, so I consider us to have lost. Still, I feel like we did a pretty good job. I had never been in a debate before, so it was kind of fun.

A Facebook-related link: If Historical Events Had Facebook Statuses.

Adventures with Kate, part nine

On Tuesday, August 17, Kate and I had just arrived outside the Greyhound station at Key West International Airport after a long, long bus ride. Kate called the woman we’d be CouchSurfing with to let her know we had arrived. She came right from work to drive us to her apartment, which wasn’t very far. (Nothing is very far away in Key West, I guess.) She said she had to go back to work and that she’d return in a few hours.

We were free to go out and explore the town if we wanted, but we stayed in the guest room, which had a bunkbed and its own bathroom. Kate spent the rest of the day getting some much-needed sleep while I surfed around on her netbook. I sank a good deal of time into my CouchSurfing profile, hoping that my roommates would allow CouchSurfers to stay with us.

A few hours later, our host came home. After she offered me a serving of the dinner she was making for herself, I woke up Kate to keep her from missing out on another night’s sleep. We talked to our host, who said she hadn’t lived in Key West very long but had CouchSurfers over all the time, about tourist attractions in the area. I had been to Key West five times (1999, 2000, 2003, 2005, and 2007) but never for very long, and I always sort of did the same things. After our host gave us some suggestions, we called it a night.

The next day, we set out for the historic part of the city by bus. I didn’t know Key West even had a bus system, to be honest, but sometime between hugging the ocean and zigzagging through neighborhoods, I could see why it was necessary. Yes, Key West is a relatively small island, but it seems like it would be pretty big if you’re walking. It’s not big enough that there are a lot of buses, though.

We got off near the famous Mile Marker 0, the end of mighty US 1, from which distances are measured in the Florida Keys. To Kate it was just a sign, but to me it more than that. To me it was the symbol of a lifestyle—a state of mind, even. Okay, not really. To me it was a sign, and I get a bang out of signs.

Next, we went to the Florida Keys Eco-Discovery Center. It was a sort of small museum with information about the ecology of the area as well as a few fish. There was also a theater, where Kate and I watched a short movie about eco-discovery or something like that, told from a first-person perspective. Clearly, it was very memorable. Maybe Kate remembers exactly what it was about.

After that, we went to Fort Zachary Taylor Historic State Park. Our host had told us that there was a good beach there, and was she right. It was gorgeous and not extremely crowded. Kate and I swam around for a little while before drying off and moving on. We hadn’t eaten lunch yet.

We walked up lively Duval Street to a restaurant that our host recommended: Caroline’s, appropriately located near Caroline Street. As soon as I got there I realized I had been there before, when I visited Key West with my family five years ago. We had eaten outside then, and I wondered if they had inside seating since it was pretty dang hot. Fortunately, they had a couple of tables inside, so we sat at one of them. At the other were seated some people about our age who were speaking a foreign language. Kate recognized it as Russian and said that they were talking about stupid things.

In a break from restaurant tradition, I didn’t order an enormous hamburger, but Kate did. Instead I got a pasta dish, but of course, we shared our food with each other. Even though we were stuffed, the dessert menu looked too good to pass up. Kate got what I believe was a giant cookie with ice cream on top of it, and I got a slice of the Florida Keys’ most famous dessert, Key lime pie. I’m not sure if anyone outside Florida has heard of it, hence the Wikipedia link.

Kate had mentioned that she wanted to go parasailing, so we found a place on the street that was offering parasailing… sessions?… and signed up there. Soon after, we walked to a nearby marina and found where we had to be. We signed something, handed over some money, and got onto the boat that was waiting there.

With us were a young couple and a mom and dad with a kid. Our captains were a couple of young dudes who coolly disregarded the “No Smoking” sign near the steering wheel, which made me wonder how much stock they put into the one that said “It Is Customary to Tip the Crew.” They put on some dude music and took us out west of the island. The young couple parasailed for a few minutes; next the mom and the kid went up.

Kate and I were last. I was sure I would have a problem with the harness or something since I always have problems with those kinds of things, but I ended up being secured pretty tight. The boat sped up, and up we went.

I was sure it was going to be really windy up there, but there was only a gentle breeze. Instead I felt like I was sitting on a cloud. Kate and I, sitting on a cloud, side by side. We were really high up, and we could see probably half of the city. Maybe all of the city, I don’t know. I was pretty psyched. Meanwhile, in the boat, one of the dudes was taking pictures and recording a video of us for our possible purchasing pleasure.

Finally, the boat slowed down, and we came back to earth. Kate had requested that we be skipped along the water like stones, so the driver dude obliged. That was when I kind of fell out of my harness and got a wedgie, the memory of which I can now enjoy forever on a mini CD that I paid $20 for. (It was $30, but they secretly knocked it down for me since I didn’t want to spend the money.)

After our parasailing adventure, we walked around the marina some more until I noticed that the sun was setting fast. I was determined for us to take part in the tradition (maybe it’s only a tourists’ tradition, I don’t know) of watching the sun set in Mallory Square. We made it just in time… as far as I could tell. I forgot that you can’t really see the sunset from Mallory Square. There’s an island in the way. An artificial island. Rich people live on it. It’s called Sunset Key. Kate was not amused.

Now it was getting dark and there wasn’t much else to do, so we took the bus back to our host’s place. It was around that time that I discovered that federal regulations prohibit making more than six withdrawals from a savings account in 30 days. I had been paying for bus tickets with my debit card, so I would regularly move money from my savings account to my checking account. Now, I was about to be out of money.

The next day, Kate wanted to go kayaking, so in the morning we walked to a marina on nearby Stock Island, where we rented a ‘yak for a few hours. They gave us life jackets, paddles, and a copy of a hand-drawn map showing the navigable waterways in the immediate area. With those, we set out, Kate in the front, me in the back.

Kate first wanted to a go to a salt pond that was only reachable from a canal. The canal wasn’t far away. On one side were houses, and on the other side were mangroves. The map showed an opening among the mangroves that would lead us to the salt pond. We found the opening and started to make our way through. The passage was barely navigable and seemed to be way too long. Eventually, it was clear that we had taken a wrong turn, but we couldn’t turn around. Finally, we got stuck and had to try. I don’t even know how we managed.

After paddling the whole way backwards, we made it out to the canal and looked again for the actual opening. This time, we found it, and before us was an enclosed area of very shallow water. It was a good place to relax after that ordeal.

Next, we decided to paddle out to the ocean. Along the way, we passed some anchored boats, some of which were clearly abandoned. Soon, the water was getting choppier, and we could say that we were pretty much out in the ocean, even though it was extremely shallow in places (we had to try not to run aground). Once we realized what time it was, we hurried back to the marina, hoping to catch a bus that would take us back downtown. I’d never paddled so hard in my life. During the home stretch, it started raining. We hung out at the marina for a few minutes until it stopped.

Next, we walked to the nearest bus stop. While we were waiting, I called my parents and asked if they could give me an advance of five weeks on my allowance and deposit it into my checking account. The bus didn’t show up, and it would be a long time before the next one, so I called for a taxi. The taxi didn’t show up either. Then the next bus didn’t show up. Finally, a couple of guys who were walking by said (in Spanish) that the bus didn’t stop there. That stop was on the bus schedule, but they had to be right.

Dejected, we walked back to the apartment and had lunch. If we wanted to go back downtown, we would only have about an hour before we’d have to be back to catch our bus out of Key West. We decided to go for it.

After getting off the bus, we walked down toward the Southernmost Point marker, passing the Ernest Hemingway House on the way. After getting our picture taken with the buoy-shaped monument, we had a few minutes to swim at a tiny beach called South Beach. At the beach was a sign that said:

Tennessee Williams, who swam at this beach every morning, said, “I work everywhere, but I work best here.”

After a brief swim, we had to hurry to catch our only bus back to the apartment. I thought we weren’t going to make it, but fortunately, we were a few minutes early. We were still wet when we got on the bus, but it was Key West, so I bet nobody cared. Actually, they were probably like, “Damn tourists.”

We headed back to the apartment and got our things together. Then, our host dropped us off at the Greyhound station at the airport, where she had picked us up two days before. We thanked her and exchanged goodbyes. Our bus was waiting. The final part of Kate’s visit was about to begin.

Actors read actual quotations from online Christian fundamentalist forums while somehow managing to keep a straight face: If Atheists Ruled the World (language NSFW).

Adventures with Kate, part eight

Hey, that rhymes!

It was Monday, August 16, and we had just decided to go to Key West after all. We spent some time packing all of our things; the next time I would be back, it would be without Kate. The end of her visit was drawing near.

Conveniently, there was no city bus stop at the Greyhound bus station, and we wouldn’t have even had time to take the bus anyway, so we had to call a cab. Even though our Greyhound bus wouldn’t be setting off for Key West till 10:30 PM, we had to get to the station while it was still open so we could print our tickets.

The taxi was extremely late, and I made several calls to the cab agency to make sure it would be on its way soon. Finally, a van pulled up. The driver was a lively middle-aged man with an English accent. He knew we were in danger of being late and wasted no time helping us put our stuff (including Kate’s friend’s guitar) in the back. I told him there would be extra in it for him if he got us to our destination on time. (Besides a regular tip, I mean. Come on, I’m not that cheap.)

It was a long way to the bus station in spite of the rush, so pretty soon there was some chit-chat going on, mainly between the driver and me. He asked how we knew each other, and I explained it well enough to avoid further questions. He said he was from Scunthorpe, Lincolnshire, and I said I had heard of it. We talked about the guitar in its oddly-shaped case, and he revealed that he had been in a band for many years. He said he had also played guitar for the likes of Willie Nelson and Roger McGuinn.

He somehow managed to take us to the station with enough time to spare, so, true to my word, I tipped him generously. We got our tickets as the station closed and then needed to kill a few hours somewhere. I had looked up some restaurants in the immediate area, hoping to find one where we could linger and use Wi-Fi. We ended up at an inexpensive Italian restaurant where they said they might have Wi-Fi. Fortunately, they did. We were about the only people there, and we ordered from the buffet, each of us going up for a plate occasionally.

After what seemed like an eternity in the restaurant, they were getting ready to close, and it was almost time for our bus to arrive. It picked us up at the station, and we headed to Orlando and then to Miami. We also had a rest stop in the Treasure Coast area. Surprisingly, I actually seemed to sleep a little bit on the bus.

In the morning, we arrived at the Greyhound station in Miami. We had a few hours to kill and some shopping to do. Kate had collected money from family, friends, and acquaintances who wanted her to buy them stuff in the USA. Unfortunately, even though we were near the airport, there didn’t seem to be any buses going where we wanted to go. So we resolved to go shopping at the end of Kate’s trip and decided to eat breakfast.

We went inside a gas station where they actually had a small restaurant-type place that even had some tables with vases of flowers on them. It was a classy gas station restaurant. Besides having some food, we got coffee from one of those nifty Kreurig machines with the ground coffee beans in little cups. I also bought a map of the Florida Keys so I could see where we were on the long drive to Key West.

After a long wait at the bus station (which was very small for such a large city), the bus came, and we were headed to the Keys. Eventually, blue seas came into view on both sides, and endless fields of grass gave way to necessarily tiny communities with almost as many boats as people.

We had a very short lunch break at a Burger King in the Middle Keys. It seemed to be an official Greyhound stop since there was a Greyhound sign near the premises. Inside, a section of the seating area was designed to look like the inside of a boat. The bus driver chatted it up with the employees behind the counter, who knew him by name. Kate and I didn’t have a long time to eat, but we managed. It’s easier when you work as a team.

Not long after crossing the famous Seven-Mile Bridge, the bus dropped us off at Key West International Airport. We had made it. I was excited but tired. Kate was just tired. I took a picture of us that I’m not sure she’d let me post on Facebook. I’m grinning ear-to-ear, and she looks like she wants to kill me. We had just been on a bus for most of the last 17 hours. I would have killed me too if I were her.

Kate had already secured accommodations for us with CouchSurfing. Our host had said she would take a few minutes off work to pick us up and take us to her place, so we called her to say we had arrived. As we sat waiting outside the airport, I started thinking about how we could spend a precious few days in my favorite place in the world.

Here’s a video of a bunch of guys called the Fab Faux performing a fantastic cover of the medley from Abbey Road. (Via waxy.org)