GRIZZLY PEAR

written snapshots

Category: Notes

  • Man’s Search for Ultimate Meaning, Viktor E. Frankl, 1974

    If you’re a fan of Man’s Search for Meaning, then this book is a required sequel.

    You won’t dig it as much.
    It doesn’t have the power of the original.
    Nothing can match his narrative of life in concentration camps.

    That’s why this book is so important as a follow up.
    This book is technical theory.
    A polemic for Logotherapy and Existential Analysis.

    Boring is the point.
    If you buy his philosophy, then the belief should survive a much dryer accounting.

    On my end, I don’t know.
    I can’t knock it — anything that survives Auschwitz is worth consideration.
    It’s certainly truthy.
    But is it true?

    I’ll leave that to professional psychologists and philosophers.

    I appreciate that Frankl drew a distinction between theology and psychiatry.
    In our soup of competing totalizing theories, I respect someone who is humble enough to prescribe limits around his own discipline.

  • Music, generally

    I grew up in a strictly classical house, but I ended up enjoying an extremely wide variety of music, everything from death metal, to tejano. My tastes run a mile wide and a millimeter deep.

    Out of this sea of noise, I do find myself regularly returning to celtic instrumentals, bluegrass, and Bach’s Goldberg Variations. Though I’ve gotten onto a jazz kick lately.

    Unfortunately, I never sit down to listen to music. Music is utilitarian noise while I do other stuff, Music has been relegated to third place after audiobooks / podcasts (for brainless chores and commutes) or silence (for focused attention).

    Music is for the middle tasks needs a non-distracting background noise to keep my brain from becoming anxious when the work is progressing slowly. Music can lull a mind that is spinning faster than the hand can fly.

    Traditionally, the lullaby has been Electronic Dance Music with driving beat and a simple melody. I’m slightly embarrassed by how much EDM I’ve consumed on youtube, but I’m also perversely proud of this odd quirk, like my occasional interest in the Eurovision song contest.

    I’ve always been too cheap to pay for concert experiences so my musical life has been 99.5% experienced over recorded media. I grok the appeal of the live experience, but for $16 I can get a plastic disc that can replay that sound sequence in perpetuity. It’s a classic 80/20 problem, especially now that it is all free on the interwebs

    In theory I want to learn how to properly appreciate music properly, but what should I delete from my schedule to make room for analyzing different versions of the Goldberg Variations or jazz standards?

    Even if I found time for music appreciation, I’d rather practice a musical instrument to some level of proficiency. Much like my musical tastes, I have a wide variety of instruments that I play at an exceedingly beginner level.

    I played piano for a very short period as a child. I lasted just long enough to learn the elementary basics of reading musical notation.

    In elementary school, I learned the recorder like every other kid. I still have the beige Yamaha recorder from 3rd grade in Mr. Edwards class.

    I played trombone in high school with a disastrous stint as a freshman in the UC Berkeley marching band. Music is too ephemeral for my materialist inclinations. I need a tangible deliverable. When I started architectural studios in the spring semester that year, I found my tribe.

    For quite a while I didn’t play any music, but after finishing undergrad I road tripped through the Southwest. In Albuquerque I met a guy from Alaska who spent the long winters playing the banjo. He pulled it out for a magical night, noodling on the front stoop of the hostel.

    (This was before we all had the internet in our pockets. I wonder if we’ve lost a generation over the last couple decades.)

    After the trip I got my own banjo, but never got any good at it. Just like all the other instruments I didn’t practice diligently. I had a short revival of playing the banjo during grad school, but hit a plateau and stopped.

    A couple years after grad school, I got into blues harmonica for a few months, playing it during lunch in the empty park next to my office (no one is outside during the Houston summer). I got good enough to bend notes, but stalled out and lost interest. I’m still quite fond of the harmonica – where else can you get a professional level instrument for $45?

    About seven years ago, I borrowed my parent’s ukulele which taught me the concept of chords. Playing childrens songs felt like a reasonable goal. I got far enough to buy my own ukulele (a plastic model that is virtually indestructible), but then I came across a book on clawhammer banjo at the library and went back to my old fellow.

    With the clawhammer style, I got good enough to play about five or six songs on the banjo but stopped. (For a while I kept it the corner of the playroom, so I could frail on a whim, but the boy broke with the fifth string a year ago and I haven’t fixed it.)

    Finally, when the boy was born, I suddenly got entranced by the idea of percussion. I first picked up a djembe (what gorgeous bass!), but settled on a darbuka because I enjoyed the asymmetrical position. But again a lack of dedication meant I never internalized any of the standard rhythms. Maybe I can blame COVID because I stopped going to drum circles and haven’t returned.

    I’d like to pick up a cajon to get some snares, but given my two week dalliance with the native american flute last summer (the girl hated the sound), I’m well it would be a frivolous purchase.

    If I was to buckle down and focus, I would think the banjo would be my primary instrument, but who knows when I will prioritize doing musical practice.

    I enjoy my music to be sure. Just not enough to be expert at any level.

    Maybe one day.

  • Jazz Roundup, Jan to Oct 2022

    With “Lucy and Linus”, my daughter got me back into jazz last Christmas on Spotify and youtube. It’s something I’ve always felt I should study, but I hadn’t gotten around to it over the decades.

    This kicked into high gear in October after discovering that the library’s Hoopla streaming app has a host of classic albums in their catalog. (And if an album isn’t on Hoopla, it’s almost certainly on the library’s other app Freegal).

    Now I can listen to the music without advertisements!

    I’m no good at listening to music, much less writing about it. But following my old tagline “notes on my consumption” here’s a write up.

    A Charlie Brown Christmas — The classic christmas album, Guaraldi riffs on old classics along with her favorite “Linus and Lucy”.

    From All Sides — My daughter got into this collaboration between Guaraldi and Bola Sete, especially “The Ballad of Pancho Villa”. I should give the album an active listen.

    Time Out — Brubeck was a favorite in college and this remains a classic. Brings me right back to studio when I wanted to feel cool.

    Time Further Out — I need to give the whole album it run. I was a dancer in a piece that included “Unsquare Dance” (and “Rabbit in Your Headlights”).

    Giant Steps — Grabbed me late one night and made see the light of Coltrane.

    Olé Coltrane — The use of spanish / arabic scales makes the music seem otherworldly. Spiritual.

    Parker With Strings — This isn’t the most representative introduction to Charlie Parker, but it’s his most popular album. I pushed past my dislike of sissy stuff to understand why. After a few listens, I was thrilled to hear him synchronize with his accompaniment while rising beyond as the soloist.

    Kind of Blue — Why is this the best selling jazz album of all time? Took a few listens for the music to groove into my brain. Miles Davis’ catalog is primarily on Freegal, which is less user friendly. It may be a moment before I get deeper into his oeuvre.

    Portrait in Jazz Parker got me to accept soft jazz, so I gave Bill Evans a run when I saw he was the pianist in Kind of Blue. Started with Portrait in Jazz because I initially found the live noise sounds of the other two albums slightly off putting. It didn’t click.

    Waltz for Debby, Sunday at the Village Vanguard — On the other hand, these albums hit. In just a couple of years, these three musicians melded organically into a comprehensive sound, sacrificing individualism for a unified totality. Though fate was much too cruel to take Scott LaFaro right after these Vanguard sessions.

    Ballads — Since Bill Evans cemented my appreciation of soft music, I thought I’d see how Coltrane does it. I don’t remember much.

    A Love Supreme — Time to listen to Coltrane’s other Magnum Opus. It is.

    Fiddler On The Roof — Loved the yellow cover with Cannonball Adderley, and gave it a whirl. Unmemorable. Would I enjoy it more, if I knew the original musical?

    Somethin’ Else — It feels dominated by Miles Davis’ trumpet even Adderley is the headliner. I wonder if some folks have that ineffable extra edge that dominates a stage, even when it’s not theirs.

    Way Out West — A unique trio with Sonny Rollins on saxophone accompanied by bass and drums. I dig the unique instrumentation, though the music was unmemorable after the cheeky first track.

    Brilliant Corners — I’ve always held that Straight No Chaser should be the soundtrack of the sophisticated high life. Time to listen to the album that landed Thelonious in the Library of Congress National Recording Registry Listing. I dig it. Lively. Monk showcases immense range. The cover is a perfect visual representation of the album’s music.

    Getz/Gilberto — Felt the urge for bossa nova over lunch so I borrowed this album. We argued about going to the park that day. Otherwise, very comfortable music. This Adam Neely video is a great breakdown of the “Girl from Ipanema”

    Jazz Impressions of Black Orpheus — It’s got memorable moments, but I’m still in thrall of the Bill Evans Trio borg-mind-meld, so the distinctness of the instruments in Vince Guaraldi Trio is slightly grating. But very nice once I get past my prejudice.

    The Black Messiah — I borrowed this after reading best-of lists of Cannonball Adderley. After a few listens I’ve gotten used to it, but I’m not ready for the 70’s (nor electricity).

  • Mahjong solitaire

    My boy discovered our old mahjong set and pulled it out.

    It was from my grandparents.
    They didn’t like this set because the engraving was shallow.
    You can’t feel the tile’s identity before looking at it.

    Mahjong is truly a great rummy game.
    Traditional Hong Kong scoring, three points minimum.
    Unfortunately the kids aren’t ready.
    (I’ve tried.)

    But they’re ready for Mahjong Solitaire.

    I remember hating this knockoff.
    Wishing for the real MJ on the computer.
    The only available program on the 386.

    Thirty years later, I downloaded a couple clones on the phone to review the rules.
    We started playing.

    First the classic pyramid,
    then some wacky stacks,
    ended with a big simple cube.

    The iPhone is a lot easier to set up.
    Click a button.

    The physical set lets us do anything we want.
    It makes real sounds.
    Direct visuals.
    Interacts with gravity!
    You can actually feel the tiles.

    Even if they weren’t engraved deeply enough.

    ䷧䷵

    My cousin’s grandfather could play the game without sorting the tiles in his hand.
    (he was a ship’s captain)
    All the history, all that skill, gone as the wind.
    What will we leave behind?
    The kids in their turn?
    Wisps lingering in the ether.

  • Puppy Dog Pals (with Olivia) watch Toy Story 2, Lasseter, Branon, Unkrich, 1999.

    He finished his mask for Halloween.
    I cut the paper.
    He insisted that she draw and color.

    She drew more characters, taped to popsicle sticks.
    They held up their new friends so they could watch a movie.

    Later that night, he asked me to add a cat for their collection.
    She said it was the strangest drawing ever.

    ䷱䷴

    The movie was fun.
    Not an absolute classic like the first one, but still very good.
    It was ambitious of them to push into the wider world with more human characters.
    The Cleaner scene and the Jessie montage are top-notch.

  • Pui Pui Molcar, Tomoki Misato, 2021

    12 episodes (32 minutes) of fuzzy cutesiness in a surreal stop motion universe of guinea pig cars.
    (Humans are live actors inside their cars and plastic figures outside their vehicles.)

    It starts innocently with a few slice of life incidents before spinning into pure absurdity.
    As usual, I preferred the life around town more than the movie references.

    Then again, I love the absurd (more than the toddlers of its target audience).
    Screw it, I’ll take them all!
    Give me more!

    Like all great children’s shows, it’s written for both adults and children.
    By series end, the cars have distinct personalities, without saying a single word.

    The show is a testament to the expansive potential of shear creativity.

    It could be the cutest show you’ll ever watch!

    The world moves so quickly now. Asian shows took real effort to discover (much less watch) during college (I didn’t bother). Now this children’s show is distributed on the world’s largest streaming service, just a few months after airing in Japan.

    If you don’t have Netflix, check out the Misato’s vimeo account.

  • Rango, Gore Verbinski, 2011

    The film had the dubious honor of winning the Oscar Animation award the year that Pixar went for the cash grab called Cars 2.

    It’s an unfortunate slander against this movie, cause it’s awesome.

    The story is pretty typical American fare — Wild, Wacky, and Western!

    Breaking the fourth wall is a undoubtedly a gimmick, but nicely done.

    And the early 2010’s feels as good a marker as any of the time when 3D animation hit its stride. It’s a decade old but didn’t feel visually dated or technologically constrained.

    I should check out the other Oscar winners and nominees. That list would keep me quite busy for a while.

    ䷿

    I don’t have any deep thoughts at the moment (or a year later) except to say I felt an urge to rewatch the film. Such an urge is uncommon for live action films, but Disney+ has shown that I enjoy repeat viewings of animated films.

  • Aristotle and an Aardvark Go to Washington, 2008; Heidegger and Hippo Walk Through Those Pearly Gates, 2009; Thomas Cathcart, Daniel Klein

    Like most sequels, these books are nice, but underwhelming.

    The Washington book on politics was downright depressing. It’s important to examine the sophistry of politicians, but it’s hard to laugh about misdirection in the service of power plays in the face of rising authoritarianism and a war in Europe.

    With my recent interest in aging and death, I had higher expectations about Pearly Gates, but it didn’t add much to the conversation. Maybe I’ve been over-exposed to the subject with my recent readings.

    Both are worth checking out if you really liked Plato and a Platypus, but don’t go in with high expectations.

    ䷒䷊

    I doubt I’ll revisit Washington (too depressing) but I might relisten Pearly Gates to see what I missed.

  • Toy Story, Lasseter, 1995

    Wow the graphics have aged.
    Five minutes later, I was swept up in the story.

    The kids loved it too.

    My sister and I watched the VHS many times, a quarter century ago.
    Turns out that cutting edge graphics wasn’t the primary draw.

  • Midlife: A Philosophical Guide, Kieran Setiya, 2017

    Midlife is a strange time. Major decisions have been made, and with kids the focus has been switched towards preparing for their wild problems.

    But we’re not old! We’re caught in a predetermined present, experiencing physical decline, playing out the decisions of the past, while dimly peering towards decades of an uncertain future.

    So how we manage? The book starts with contemplations upon regret (fully acknowledging that much “regret” in affluent countries are #firstworldproblems). Then Setiya ponders how to best consider about our mortality and closes with a chapter about life beyond goals.

    When young, we pursue projects for specific results. Get that degree, grab that job! The paradox of such pursuits is that accomplishing the goal kills the goal. I often felt such emptiness after final reviews. A killer presentation is better than failure (I’ve done that too) but still left lingering hollow emptiness. All for what? On to the next semester.

    Accomplishments are critical in the pursuit of prosperity (there is almost little income benefit between a high school graduate and a 3-year college dropout). Crossing the next check box can’t be all there is, especially now that the ultimate checkpoint is visible in the far horizon.

    Setiya brings up the concept of “atelic activities“. Activities for their own reward. Walking for the joy of taking a stroll (not just getting to point B). Reframe one’s hassles with kids from specific tasks (cooking, cleaning, training) to the generic atelic act of parenting (easier said than done!).

    Live in the present.

    I’ve noticed this shift in my reading. I used to devour business books, searching for nuggets to improve productivity and leadership skills. But I’m now closer to retirement than hand drafting in Berkeley. The ROI has waned and this homo economicus has turned away from consuming productive fare.

    My bed stand currently has two books of poetry, a book on philosophy, and a photo monograph. Hell, instead of reading last night, I listened fifteen minutes of Sunday at the Village Vanguard.

    Midlife might not be pretty, but that’s pretty cool.

    ䷠䷋

    I enjoyed the book, listening to it twice before writing these notes. Setiya dives into deep topics but writes accessibly for a popular audience. He knows he’s in the self help genre and respects that we aren’t his academic colleagues.

    This book is worth reading well before breaking into your forties. It’s good to get some advance warning on the foibles of the upcoming decades. Just like my recommendation to read Travels with Epicurus to folks my age.