29.JULY
A man went to Paris...
for the first time, and observed right off...
that the carriages of suburban trains had seats on the roof like a tramcar. He was so thrilled by the remarkable discovery that he observed almost nothing else. This enormous fact occupied the whole foreground of his perspective. He returned home and announced that Paris was a place where people rode on the tops of trains.
A.B.
60 Pushups
The first time I ever watched a game of American football (I was about 8), I asked my dad, "how come the refs can throw the ball so far?"
He said, "the refs?"
I said, "yeah."
He said, "Well, because they do 60 pushups a day."
That night, after my mom had turned out the lights, I jumped out of bed and went down on the floor. I did 60 pushups. I had to split them up into sets of 10 with breaks in between.
Then, I hopped back in bed and fell fast asleep, knowing all the neighborhood kids would be envious of my throwing arm in the morning.
I'm at the point in my trip when the new place starts to fade into the background, a routine sets in, and you start thinking about other things.
Like football.
RoboGames 2008
I went to RoboGames on Saturday. I've never seen anything like it before. Robots everywhere. The guys from Make Magazine were there too.
Catch with Anybots.
The BattleBots event was a personal favorite, as it is for mostly everyone who goes. One large cage, with iron support beams and plexiglass windows and ceiling, with metal teeth around the inside of the arena. Two painted squares, a red one and a blue one. One robot starts in the blue square, and one in the red. Then, lots of smashing and clashing and grinding and burning and bumping until one robot falls down dead.
Make Mobile.
The Brazilian teams definitely took the cake for enthusiasm. Lots of yelling in Portuguese. But there was one robot, called 'Ziggy,' who really had the crowd cheering. It's a 340-lb robot with strong and fast motors turning its wheels and one large pressurized arm that flung a lawn-mower-like robot &mdash called 'Jaws of Death' &mdash six feet into the air in the final round.
RoboSoccer is also pretty fun to watch. It's a little bit of a slow-paced game, but that only makes goals more exciting. The robots built for this event can generally do cartwheels, and all of them can get back up after they fall down.
Score one for Korea.
The Koreans dominated in the Fighting event. There were a bunch of kids from Kwangwoon University who had really cool-looking red robots to which the American bots just couldn't stand up.
In the end, I got to have a game of catch with a humanoid named Monty Anybots.
Past 20th Street
I've met a lot of people lately with interesting characters. Many at the hostel, but not all.
I don't know this guy, but I've met others.
One night I had to use the bathroom, so in I went and there was Nicky brushing his teeth. "Sorry," I said and went out. "Mo, mo!" he said trailing me out the door. "It's fibe." He couldn't talk too well with so much toothpaste in his mouth. I'd gotten to know him pretty well before he thought to spit it out.
I learned that he goes to school at Yale &mdash a year ahead of me &mdash so we joked about being big Connecticut guys. Then, he wondered if I wanted to get some dinner. I did want to. I hadn't eaten yet.
"I heard about this good place past 20th Street," he said. "Sure," I said.
Dinner was good. Fish and chips. He's a philosophy major so we talked about weird philosophers and our schools. And he wanted to know more about linguistics. Of course, I chose to try to explain what a nominative-accusative language was. I'm not quite sure why. The waitress came by and the whole explanation broke down into a lot of laughter.
Apparently, though, it was more a bar than a restaurant. Only after we'd eaten and were ready to leave did I learn that I &mdash under 21 &mdash wasn't really supposed to be there. That was a funny note to leave on.
20th Street.
I met Adam while I was eating a pizza. He wasn't too shy. He said he was staying in another hostel nearby and had run away from Bethel, Alaska because he wasn't getting along with his family. I felt comfortable suggesting, "are you sure you didn't just move here? Maybe you didn't really run away.. per se."
He said he'd just moved here, but added that he wasn't getting along with his family.
Twisted Trunk in Golden Gate.
Sander was watching the Netherlands–Italy match when I met him. He's Asian but has lived his whole life in Amsterdam, and speaks Dutch as a first language. He had a lot of interesting things up his sleeve to talk about. He's becoming a diplomat. I spent the day with him walking around Golden Gate Park talking about artificial intelligence. He uses the phrase "and my colleagues" a lot. I think he's in his 30's.
Talent scouts.
Then, I roomed with a 25-year-old-looking talent scout who said he'd been the one who originally found Hilary Swank &mdash from Million Dollar Baby. He said he'd also been in the original (Chris Farley) Black Sheep, but I told him I hadn't seen it. He turned out to be 48. He looked really young. I guess he also has a bunch of music videos on youtube but I haven't found them yet. His name was Michael something, but I didn't catch the rest. He talked so fast and so much that I didn't get a chance to ask.
Long Now
I started at Long Now &mdash the mother-foundation for the Rosetta Project &mdash Monday the 2nd. So, I have a week under my belt. I don't think this will be a dull summer. That's partly because I won't let it be. But it's partly because Long Now isn't a dull place.
Long Now prototypes.
Monday, I met Laura &mdash she's heading up Rosetta &mdash and she spent the early part of the day explaining the projects and showing me around the space. I have a desk in the upper loft-studio area with Laura, Zander (who builds combat robots), Danielle (who has a loud voice and tons of material for interesting conversations), and Ben (who's a coder). Veronica works around the corner, and Auburn and Austin downstairs in the gallery space. Kurt (coder) and JD (linguist) are off doing other things, but step in from time to time.
The gallery space is full of prototypes &mdash the Rosetta disc (a 4-inch nickel micro-etched disc of thousands of pages of language documentation), the 10k clock (a mechanical clock that will run for 10,000 years &mdash this is the second prototype; the first is in the Science Museum of London), the chime generator... and some other pieces of techno-stuff, like the tungsten bob for the clock (which is the size of a tennis ball but weights 22 pounds), and the equation of time model (also for the clock).
Equation of time.
It's a pretty lively place. Sure, we have desks, but they're just for returning to, not for sitting at. People are up and down and conversations fly.
Though I may do some programming later on, my primary task this summer is to work on the 1,000 Tongues book project. It's a book of a selection of 1,000 languages from the disc, and is meant to be a representation of what it'd be like to browse through the disc pages. I'm choosing which languages will go in the book. I won't work on all 1,000 of them, but maybe a couple hundred. For each language I choose, I'll do some good research on it (I have Berkeley library and a bunch of journals I can access online), then write up a page on why the linguistic structure of the language is interesting, or what makes the language itself interesting &mdash maybe it's moribund (or Mandarin), maybe it's OSV (or SVO), maybe it's an isolate, maybe it has ergative syntax. It's tricky because I have to find the right balance of technical terms and general concepts &mdash and it all has to fit and be understood in a page. It's a fantastic writing exercise. And each page will have to be backed by a deeper understanding of what's going on in the language. It'll take time.
Then, I'll send off the written materials to Srdjan in Serbia, who is working on the book design.
Next week is a conference on language revitalization at Berkeley called 'Breath of Life.' It's being organized by Leanne Hinton.
I'll get to be around some real speakers of Miwok. Their language is practically extinct.
Moving On
Today, when I hopped on the bus in the morning, there was an old man sitting across from me who looked like he'd come from the 19th century. He had on trousers and stockings, black and white shoes, a vest with a gold pocket watch, and round glasses. His mustache was waxed into two curls.
Justice for San Francisco.
After a time, there came a shout from the back of the bus. "You there! Magician!"
Aha. A street magician.
Again from the back of the bus, "long time no see!"
It was another old man. He was shouting quite loudly. The magician acknowledged his presence with a fair shout of his own. The two launched into a conversation &mdash to the dismay of the man sitting next to the magician, who kept wincing and putting a finger in his ear.
The trans-bus conversation turned suddenly from small talk to comic books and super heroes of last year's generation. It was a lively debate. The bus filled with exclamations like, "I'll tell you what! The best version of Batman I ever saw on the silver screen was..." and "Ask a question of more substance, for heaven's sake! Of course I've read Iron Man!" and "Of course I know how the joker became the joker. He fell in a vat of chemicals!" and "I hear they're making a movie of the old comic..." and "Impossible! They'd never pull it off!"
I stayed on the bus a few extra stops just to hear the end of it.
I had to walk back up the hill five or six blocks to my original destination &mdash Telegraph Hill, where I knew I'd find a couple of used bike shops. Apparently, San Francisco worships the bicycle &mdash I don't intend to be left out.
Moving on up.
After getting the scoop on where to buy a good Trek or Giant, I got back on the bus and went to where I was really trying to go &mdash the City Center Hostel. The first hostel was just for a few nights, but I still need to find housing so I'm hostelling a second time. It's kinda fun. The new one is really nice and I've already met some foreign friends &mdash just like last time. Hostels are good for that.
I think I'm going to enjoy my stay here.
The Grocery
I finally got to stop being a tourist when I went and bought groceries for the first time here. Tourists don't go grocery shopping. They eat out, I think.
Oranges and potatoes.
The produce was glowing with freshness. I took a step back in the touristy direction when I whipped out the camera. I wanted to get a shot of some good-looking fruit and perhaps a shopper carefully choosing a mango.
I tried a few times, but I kept getting angry looks. I didn't think I could really nail a good close-up without being hit by a potato. These shoppers weren't in the mood for photographs.
So I went for just the fruit. I got in nice and close, then I grabbed some oranges so I was less conspicuous and checked out.
The oranges were really, really good.
Too far on MUNI and Genentech Hall
MUNI is actually a really easy and convenient system to use. Stand in any given spot in the city. Walk two blocks at the most to the nearest bus shelter. Wait a couple of minutes. Get on the bus. Go anywhere.
Med students at Genentech.
I rode the 22 line from the Marina station all the way down past the Mission. When I got on, I told the driver, "I need to get to the Mission, but I've never been there so I'm not sure when to get off." He said, "I'll make an announcement."
I looked out the window the whole way and studied the street names. I eventually want to be able to move dexterously about the city without too much of losing my way, so times like this are good times to pay attention.
A good deal later on, I heard, "Last stop!" I'd forgotten to get off at the Mission. Now, I didn't know where I was. I knew the street names like the back of my hand, but I didn't really know how they related in location to the Mission.
I did my best playing-it-cool slide past the driver, but he caught me and gaped. "M— Mission!" he said, pointing his finger at me. Grinning, I jumped onto the sidewalk and called back. "It's alright! I decided to stay on longer. I'm exploring!"
Too far.
It took me a few laps around the block to get my bearings. I realized I was at the UCSF Mission Bay campus. Wow. It looked fantastic.
I saw a building called Genentech Hall. The architecture was interesting. I was drawn inside. It turned out to be a big medical building full of labs. Judging by some of the looks I got, I'm not sure I was supposed to be wandering around up there poking my head in on lab-coat-clad students holding Erlenmeyers. But I did.
On my way out, I grabbed a seat at a computer and started webmailing. My password was almost in when an official-looking man whispered behind me. "Those aren't public computers."
I closed the browser and took off out the door before he could blink.
After the door was safely closed behind me I laughed out loud and said, "geez."
Alcatraz and Being Mistaken for a Native
It turns out, Alcatraz is about 4,000 yards from the room I'm staying in at the hostel. I popped by to take a look. Maybe I'll get a chance to go out there soon.
Azkaban.
I've only ever seen boats full of trains go out there, though. They might have to put you in a train car for safe transportation.
Coming back up from the wharf, I had to cross Marina Green again &mdash I had the soccer ball &mdash and two tourist-looking women waved me over. I went.
"Um," they said, "we're trying to find..." and they named a few places I'd never heard of. They went on for a while, alternating the talking, until finally one said. "So, can you point us in the right direction?"
"Actually," I said, "I've only been here for three days. I don't think I'll be of much use. But that guy in the hat looks like he might know."
I scurried off.
"You had a soccer ball!" they called. "So, we thought you lived here!"
They scurried off.
The guy in the hat scurried off faster.
Meditating on the Drone
I was exploring beyond the field with the flowers &mdash which I'm told can otherwise be called Marina Green &mdash and up Fillmore Street and back, when I saw a guy meditating right there on the side of the busy street.
Meditation from 15 feet.
For some reason, I wanted to capture it. Maybe as a tribute to the fact that no conditions are too loud for some quiet time to yourself. That's neat.
I really struggled with this one. I wanted to go straight in &mdash a close-up face shot. But I wasn't ready to brave the roughs and toughs of real photo-journalism. So I went for a side-attack. I was still pretty close &mdash maybe 15 feet.
And I had to lie in some sharp gravel.
Not Dandelions and a Boat Full of Trains
There's a lot more to Fort Mason than first meets the eye. And I haven't seen it all yet.
This morning, after hearing by phone that my appointment to look at an apartment in the Sunset would be delayed until tomorrow &mdash and not yet feeling up to braving the MUNI system which would carry me out into the heart of the city &mdash I decided to get to know the Fort a little better than I'd gotten to know it so far.
I took a flight of concrete steps off the back of the hostel and found myself in a park full of joggers and sun-bathers. I crossed the street at the bottom of the hill and came to a larger field. There was a girl kicking a soccer ball around, and I waved my own ball &mdash which I'd brought &mdash in her direction as I passed by.
The field was full of what first appeared to be dandelions. But they weren't. They were different. I dove onto my stomach to bust out a few close-up shots of the plants, and when I got up I discovered that they left nice little yellow stains all about the clothing.
Looking rugged, I trekked back across the field, then stopped by the water to watch a boat full of trains go by. This is something you don't see much in Vermont.
Trains full of boats, maybe. And a robin instead of a seagull.
Arriving in San Francisco and Some Exploring.
I'm glad I made it. I almost hopped on the wrong flight. San Francisco is pretty welcoming.
First impressions. Palm trees! I hadn't expected to see them here. It's Northern California. But not enough, I guess, for the palm trees to go away. The sounds of this place are different than the sounds of Strafford, Vermont &mdash my middle-of-nowhere hometown. Obviously, the city sounds different than the woods, but that's not all. There are different natural sounds here as well. There are birds that sound like crows &mdash but much louder, and shriller. Maybe they're urban crows &mdash they've learned to use loud voices to be heard over the drone of the lively city. I call it a drone, but it's much nicer than that.
I got to San Francisco yesterday &mdash May 28th &mdash at 3:25 Pacific Time. My first solo flight ever. It's actually not all that exciting. It's hardly different than sitting alone on a bus. I'm not certain, but maybe I'd have thought differently if I'd gotten on the wrong flight. I almost did.
Standing in line, I was trying to peek at other people's boarding passes. Luckily for me, when their numbers were all different than mine, it didn't occur to me to marvel at how unique I was for being the odd-man-out. Instead I wondered, why don't I fit in?
The first leg of the trip was a puddle-jumper from Manchester, New Hampshire to Chicago. I ended up sqeezed between two large men. For the duration of the flight &mdash an hour and a half &mdash I sat very still looking straight ahead. No one said a word.
From Chicago, I got a four-and-a-half hour flight to San Francisco International. This time, I high-tailed it to the back of the plane and dove for a nice aisle-seat. I wanted to be able to easily get up and down this time and stretch my legs.
I was joined at the last minute by a middle-aged guy in jeans and a black button-down. He took the window seat. "How are you doing?" I asked, not wanting to go four and a half hours in silence.
Turns out, he was a paleontologist from University of Chicago on his way to Berkeley for a science meeting. He asked me where I was off to and I told him about my internship at the Rosetta Project and my to-be first visit to San Fran. He told me he had a sister in Linguistics.
A little ways into the flight I asked, "So, have you dug up anything interesting lately?" He fished around in his bag for a minute and pulled out a white binder full of photos. "Yeah," he said. "A hundred humans." He thumbed through a few pictures of the site &mdash in Niger, I think he said. It was wild.
I made it to the youth hostel in Fort Mason without a problem. I liked it. Right on the water. I stowed my bags in my room and decided to set out for town. Dinner was sounding good.
I think I spent close to six hours out there. After I almost got pummeled by a shuttle coming out of the Fort Mason entrance, things went pretty smoothly. I picked up pretty quickly the technique for crossing a busy street when there is no walk light. You face toward the corner you want to get to across the intersection. You'll see a traffic light there. When it's red, that means the traffic is moving perpendicular to your desired crossing path. That's no good for walking. You'll get hit if you try to cross now.
Once the light turns green though, the traffic starts moving parallel to your crossing path. You start crossing as soon as the light turns green. That way, any cars trying to turn into the street you're crossing will just be getting started and you'll have time to get out of their way.
I decided to walk up from Fort Mason. A big hill. But when I hit Van Ness, I turned left and most of my exploring after that made use of Van Ness as a base line. Looking at a map afterward, I guess I covered a pretty fair chunk of ground.
I wasn't really in the restaurant area, though. I needed a place to eat. I walked into a Starbucks hoping maybe they'd have some soup or something dinner-like. But, it's Starbucks. Starbucks is a coffee shop. They don't have soup. Nor do they have anything dinner-like.
Once I was looking up at the menu-board, though, and the guy behind the counter was staring straight at my forehead, I couldn't really turn around and stride out. So, I bought a shaken-black-iced-tea-lemonade and sat down for a minute. It was a little too cold, given my summer attire and the evening weather.
I finally found a pizza place around 8:30 and ordered spaghetti and meatballs. It was good. But now it was dark and I was pretty far from Fort Mason. And, I'd spent most of my available cash on the meal.
But I'd been paying attention to where I was walking earlier and made it back to the Fort without trouble. Once, though, I thought I saw someone lurking in the shadows. I wanted my street-smarts to be a little more practiced before I went up against shadow-lurkers, so I was going to take a right down the next main street. But then a car went past, the shadows receded, and I realized it was just an old lady and her dog.
I slept well &mdash in a room full of eight strangers I'd never met, yes &mdash but it was fine. Seven of them were students, at least two of the seven foreign &mdash and the eighth was a old, sleepy man who didn't say much. No sweat.
I didn't even feel jet-lagged.