Cassini’s big adventure

cassini image of saturn

I have been meaning for a while to post about Cassini, the orbiter that is currently approaching Saturn orbit carrying one of the most sophisticated arrays of imaging equipment ever fielded. What finally prompted me was my finding the Cassini Imaging Central Laboratory for Operations (CICLOPS) photo blog. All the photos taken by the orbiter are available here, grouped by mission, including amazing recent shots of Cassini’s Saturn approach and moon fly-bys.

(Yes, in case you hadn’t guessed: there is a part of me that will always be a NASA brat.)

The capital campaign is over. Long live the capital campaign

Washington Post: U-Va. Sets $3 Billion Campaign for Gifts. Having breathed a sigh of relief when the last capital campaign (which began right after I graduated) finished in 2001, it’s interesting to see the approach being taken on this one. The $3 billion goal looks to be aimed at finishing projects left unfunded by the last campaign, including the performing arts center, as well as starting new buildings, special institutes, hospital facilities, and raising professors’ salaries. A goal stated more quietly is reduced dependence on the state for funds; this is the state, after all, that tried to starve the University in the early 1990s.

While it’s good to see Casteen living up to his reputation as überfundraiser, one wonders about the effects of perpetual capital campaigns on the University’s alumni. Is severing the school’s connection to the state legislature worth the relationship risk? On second thought, maybe it is.

The Big Dig and property values

post-central artery pre-greenway boston north end

Boston Globe: Path to the Greenway: For property owners, parks mean profits. Unsurprisingly, the Boston real estate market is already pricing in the raise in property values that the creation of the Greenway along the former site of the elevated Central Artery will bring. The same rise can also be seen on the other side of the coast where californialand.com listings show an increase in prices as well and according to the Northpoint Mortgage Company the rise is bound to raise in the next few years.

This doesn’t surprise me at all. When I was in grad school, we briefly flirted with the idea of buying property in the North End. A visit to a 900 square foot brick loft with a view of the Artery (now the Greenway), which was selling for $399,000, dissuaded us. Even then I think the market was pricing in the anticipated increased value of the land once the Artery came down.

So the real questions are: How long will the small business and home owners in the North End be able to afford the rise in property taxes that the increased valuations will bring? And by how much will property values ultimately rise? Any chance of netting back the full $14.6 billion cost of the Big Dig? Somehow I doubt it…

Harry Potter y tu mamá también … otra vez

Or, man am I cheesed I used the best title last time, when I first wrote about Alfonso Cuarón’s taking on the directorship of the new Harry Potter movie. Don’t let anyone tell you that …and the Prisoner of Azkaban is a kid’s film. It’s actually two films in one. One, despite everyone’s worst fears, is remarkably respectful of the book, in a way that the slavishly faithful first two films couldn’t be. One can’t respect a book when translating it into film if one doesn’t respect cinema at the same time. And the first two films, though page for page follow the first two books very closely, are so leaden-footed (and sore-ass-inducing) that they are a shambles as cinema.

The new film is actually cinema. Not only is it watchable, it’s suspenseful (I actually felt a chill down my spine when I watched Harry save himself at the end with his patronus), and in moments it approaches poetry. That’s largely due to the second film inside the first, which is an art-house hommage to the passage of time and the maturing of a lovely young girl.

Yep, HPATPOA is Hermione’s movie. Not only does it put her in her rightful place as an ass-kicking young witch who can confidently stand beside Harry and Ron; not only does it show, as Lisa said after the film, “who’s really in charge: the girl!” in the three’s friendship; it also shows her growing up. Without dwelling on it excessively, certainly without wrecking the main story, little details show her starting to deal with her feelings for her friends, especially Ron: grasping for Ron’s hand while watching Harry deal with Buckbeak, crying on his shoulder at Bucky’s apparent execution, taking in stride Sirius Black’s compliment that she is indeed the greatest witch of her age.

The few places that Cuarón lets his directorial hand show through underscore Hermione’s passage into adulthood. He indulges (thankfully for us) in some gorgeous visual poetry as the seasons change at the school and foregrounds the passing of time with the magnificent clock with the three-story pendulum and transparent face, through which Harry gazes wistfully as his friends have pivotal growing experiences without him (and don’t imagine that the trips to Hogsmeade are anything but pivotal growth experiences, even if they have little to do with the story and nothing to do with classrooms. Where else can the kids learn how to live on their own without the adults?).

Harry, of course, is already alone without adults, having lost his parents (which this movie dwells on far more than the first two), and time moves differently for him. Witness his lessons in invoking the patronus, in the middle of a giant orrery that maps the movement of the planets, or his glimpse of the wheeling galaxies as he learns he’s in (apparent) danger.

But back to Hermione. The brilliant bit that Cuarón teases out of J K Rowling’s book is that Hermione is the key to the story. As she fishes the time turner out of the front of her sweater (there’s that subtext again!), she literally takes time in her own hands in a profoundly creative act that puts time aside. It’s the only place where the momentum of the movie pauses for a bit, as key pieces of the action happen again. But it’s also a place where Cuarón can give Hermione and Harry some peaceful time alone together. And it feels ultimately like a sweet breath in the middle of the building tension.

Good on you, Hermione. I think the boys will have a lot of growing up to do to catch up with you.

My own Chris Rock cell phone moment

I just very nearly had my own Chris Rock cell phone moment. I was just about ready to post the letter below, with proper names, in despair of finding another way of contacting this man whose email address was getting confused with mine, when I received a letter that led me to be able to contact his management company. Turns out his email address was only one letter different than mine. Crisis averted, but I’m posting the letter anyway because it’s kind of funny.

Mr. [DELETED]:

I started getting mail intended for you at my private email address (which consists of the letters toj at this ISP (link deleted)) several weeks ago. I concluded at first that there had been an error and that someone had the wrong address for you in their address book.

As I continued to get more messages, however, I grew concerned. The occasional email was one thing, but in the last two days I have received, erroneously addressed to me, a thank you letter from someone who had dinner with you and your wife and a letter having to do with the upcoming production of the TV series [DELETED]

At first I assumed that you were just some random schmoe with the same initials as me. Now it seems you’re a schmoe with the same initials as me who works in the entertainment industry. This is, as they say, interesting. Not as interesting as having Chris Rock’s old cell phone number, but interesting nonetheless. I shudder to think of what might enter my mailbox accidentally if this confusion isn’t rectified. And I don’t really want to know.

At any rate: I have owned the email address in question for several years and would suggest that you contact your business associates and straighten them out regarding your correct address. Should you wish to contact me to discuss this matter privately, please use the email link in my profile.

Thanks for your time.

Sincerely,

Tim Jarrett

But now I’m wondering: should I have milked it? Should I have emailed back all the people and asked for, say, Kevin Bacon’s cell phone number? Did I do the right thing? I guess we’ll never know.

Sigh. I used to think it was cool having a really short email address. Now I don’t know. Seems like there’s a lot of potential for confusion.

RIP Ray Charles, Robert Quine

Reposted after it mysteriously disappeared yesterday afternoon

On Thursday afternoon I was getting ready to write an obituary for Robert Quine, guitar hero who apparently killed himself last weekend, when I heard on KEXP that Ray Charles had passed away. Both will be missed. Ray Charles was starting to be in danger of being a living Mt Rushmore, so much a part of America through his constant TV appearances and patriotic performances (even well into his 70s) that people like me thought of him as a monument rather than a living musician. Hopefully this will be an occasion, past the mourning, to evaluate and appreciate his truly astounding artistry as well as his life.

Most of what I see on Google News is the AP release (which is identifiable for listing one of his best known songs as “What’dI Say” (note the lack of space—proving that even the best papers don’t copyedit wire feed)). Here’s the BBC obituary.

Regarding Robert Quine: as much as Ray Charles was a towering monument on the landscape, I think Quine was more influential for me personally through his boostership of the Velvet Underground and his truly seminal work with Lou Reed on The Blue Mask and with Tom Waits on Rain Dogs.

Hooking up an iPod to a Passat

I currently use a tape adapter to connect my iPod to my Passat’s stereo, but I’m getting tired of the grinding noise from the adapter. So I went looking for information about hooking it up directly to the stereo through an aux input.

What I found is that there are people who will spend a lot of money to get a perfect iPod install, including a built-in iPod holder and charger. It appears the answer to my question is: it’ll cost about $75 and some labor to pull the head unit and install a line in adapter, then some additional cables to run from the line in to the iPod. An alternative is to use a device designed to plug into the CD changer connector in the trunk and fool it into accepting input from the iPod.

Looks like a full weekend project… sometime later.

For all those who wondered what I do…

Two weeks ago at TechEd, Microsoft’s big conference for IT Professionals, my boss showed off some of the things we’ve got in the pipeline. A few people, including Microsoft CRM blogger Alex Barnett and the inevitable Mary Jo Foley, have had a few things to say about what was shown.

For a peek of what we’ve been working on that’s actually shipped, take a look at the new web-based newsreader available through the Microsoft.com Communities site and baked into dozens of product-specific community listings around the entire MSCOM network. The newsreader launched yesterday, and like any new web technology there may be some teething pains, but we think the user experience is really going to make a difference for those who want to talk to other customers, MVPs, and Microsoft employees to figure out how to solve their problems with our technology.

All I can say is, keep watching.

What I was going to write

Today’s post was going to be about all the music folks I caught up with over the reunion weekend, including the aforementioned Messrs. Webb and Barker, the elusive Justin Rosolino, and the mysterious Dr. Strangepork—wait, wrong show. But I didn’t quite get there. Next time…

Photos around Grounds

rotunda lunette

I took the Nikon with me to the reunion, and practiced on a familiar subject, the Grounds (aka campus) of the University of Virginia. It’s a worthy subject as well as a nostalgic one; the original grounds, designed by Thomas Jefferson as his last major project, are designated as a World Heritage site by UNESCO (together with Monticello). The buildings, which draw on an array of classical models and incorporate multiple architectural details, were meant both to provide housing and classroom for students and teachers and to be a living classroom for students of history and architecture. It was in this spirit, as well as with my Class of ’94 ring on, that I took my camera along. The result was a collection of almost 50 shots of the Central Grounds area of the University.

I tried to think more about composition this time out. I know there are things I could do to improve light-dark balance, but I only had three days in Charlottesville, and two of them were raining or cloudy. I also tried to grab photos of some interior spaces which were meaningful to me but haven’t been excessively photographed (example: the basement rehearsal room for the Glee Club in Old Cabell Hall). Despite the conditions, there were a few photos with which I am pretty pleased.

Happiness is…

If it were just the new Cowboy Junkies, it would be a happy day; likewise a new Sonic Youth. But a new Cowboy Junkies, Sonic Youth, AND PJ Harvey???? Bliss.

Maybe detailed reviews will come later. In the meantime, let me note that “Mariah Carey and the Arthur Doyle Hand Cream” would make a great band name.

—And one other note. Of the two friends and bloggers that I met this weekend who gave me mix CDs, one made a mix containing the original version of Snoop Dogg’s “Gin and Juice” and the other one had a 6:20 bluegrass hoedown cover of “Gin and Juice.” Who gave me the original? If you’re guessing Greg, you’re wrong. That would be my beloved one-quarter-preacher sister, keeping her mind on her money and her money on her mind…

Reunion friends met

estaminet, greenehouse, and me

I could probably continue to go blow by blow through the reunion weekend, but I thought focusing on some highlights would be more memorable and appropriate. And, as always, the highlights of any reunion are the people. I’ll save the music folk for another post, as this one will be lengthy enough without them.

The first night’s conversation with Scott and Susan Barker was an early highlight. I don’t think that, ten years ago, I knew Scott would be back at the University teaching, but I certainly knew he was destined for great things. The fact that Susan thought he was a good guy is definitely proof of that. —Friday night was the Barkers’ tenth wedding anniversary as well, they told us over a plate of Big Jim’s Barbecue. I asked them whether the tenth was traditionally the Pork anniversary. I don’t think they appreciated my joke…

We spent some time talking with Dan Herzfeld and his beautiful fiancee, who clearly outclasses all of us and with whom Dan is appropriately smitten. We saw Dan after Larry Sabato’s Crystal Ball lecture, during which he handicapped the presidential race. He’s a powerful speaker, but at the end I had to agree with the guy on the Lawn who said, “The bottom line according to Sabato is that it will be a close race, unless it’s a blow-out.”

Saturday afternoon I bumped into Doug Acton and his wife and new baby. Doug has been busy in the military-industrial complex, primarily on the IT side. He was one of two physics classmates I ran into over the weekend; the other, Patrick Manigault, had finished his Ph.D. only to decide it was time to do a career change. He’s now in consulting. (Sound familiar?) At the same reception I ran into Carrie Smith, who was a year ahead of us and also went to the same high school (and middle school) as I. She and her husband appear to be doing well.

On Sunday we breakfasted with Greg Greene and Esta, who drove up from Richmond. The morning was a little comical, as we started out planning to go to Duner’s for brunch only to learn from the helpful lady at our B&B that it no longer did brunch. We then tried the Biltmore and other Corner restaurants, only to find they didn’t open until 11. This left us with the Virginian, about which Bernie Fallon (who was unable to attend the reunion due to work) always said, “Who eats there? You never see anyone go in or leave. Parents don’t eat there, faculty don’t eat there… who eats there?” Well, Bernie, apparently the answer is: people who want Sunday brunch before 11 am.

Afterwards we stopped at the Brown College (née Monroe Hill) reunion brunch, where we saw Marc and Diane Leipzig and their little baby. We also said hello to Carl Trindle, who is still in residence at Monroe Hill (he jokingly calls it his “sinecure”—certainly given his contributions and continued work it’s much more significant than that).

Carl Geisler told me that he thought later reunions, when everyone’s kids were grown and life was more certain, were better. I disagree. The best reunions are ones where the years melt away and you’re speaking with the same people you studied, ate, drank, laughed, and lived with. By any standard this counts.

Day one evening: Friends and momentous occasions

Written at 2:12 pm Pacific time on Saturday, June 5: After a brief nap on Friday, we made our way to an informal barbecue dinner for my class. Since the rain was still coming down in sheets, we had to navigate our way to the Aquatic and Fitness Center, where we eventually found ourselves and met up with Don Webb, fellow Glee Club alum Scott Barker and his wife Susan, Lara Dalch, Steve Eslami, and a bunch of other folks. After eating and catching up on old times for a while, Don, Lisa and I drove back over to downtown where we found our way to the Court Square Tavern.

Don and I had joked for years about the tavern that we would make it our home away from home. We had passed many good nights there—with Scott Norris and John McLaughlin after their return from their post graduation trip to Europe; with John Navarrete and others watching Nav try his first hefeweisen and blurt, “It tastes like sweat socks!”; and with other Glee Club friends, including Jon Vick, who would always start the evening with a Newcastle Brown Ale.

We found a seat in the small booth on the upper level beneath the specials chalkboard (where Nav had sat). In Vick’s honor, we started with Newcastle and proceeded to some serious reminiscing. And we continued to reminisce into the wee hours of the morning.

Day one: High moderne to 18th century revival

Written at 5:54 am Pacific time on Saturday, June 5: We landed at Dulles a few minutes before 7 am yesterday morning. After pausing for a Starbucks fix in the terminal, we started looking around for the mobile lounges. —A moment here. I don’t think I appreciated the quintessential weirdness of Dulles while I was flying from it as a consultant, but man. Those mobile lounges. The big ol’ flying wing. You just know Eero Saarinen was hanging out with Austin Powers in the shagadelic sixties when he designed the place. On the plus side, riding in those lounges you get an unparalleled view of the airport’s real activity, which as Lisa put it appears to consist of very large slow moving machines trying to run into each other.

We got out of Dulles and navigated reasonably successfully back out into the suburbs. We wanted a proper breakfast and decided to head back to old haunts, so we made for McLean and got full breakfasts at La Madeleine, the local chain farmhouse-French restaurant. Then we realized we hadn’t packed for a weekend of rain, so we napped half an hour in the car to wait for Nordstrom’s to open so Lisa could go in and buy some more rain-appropriate shoes. Ah, the joys of travel.

We eventually made it to Charlottesville and checked in to the Inn at Court Square, which if anything actually excels its appearance on its website. Our room is furnished with antiques and looks out onto a park, and was gorgeous even in totally pouring rain. (Oh yes. So much for beautiful pictures of the Grounds.) We grabbed a late lunch at Michael’s Bistro and killed time until the first event, the class dinner, at which we met up with a few old friends. More on that in a moment.