Back Home in Indiana

In my hometown, there’s an ongoing fall music festival called Lotus that fired up in 1994 for the first time, after I had moved away. I’ve never been, but it’s a big deal in Bloomington and lots of my friends back home go check it out now and again. Overnight, a pal posted to her Facebook wall regarding the experience of attempting to attend the largely outdoor and street-based festival without purchasing a ticket for the first time, and she was unhappy with the experience. Her child asked why their family was outside one of the tents rather than inside, and her answer reflected the event’s increased cost. She characterized the cost for her family to attend the event on a paid basis as $300, probably reflecting a number of passes for several events over a period of days. That in and of itself was not the particular issue, however. She wrote of having attended in the past on a ticketed basis and having noted fellow ticket holders complaining about non-ticketed onlookers, and noted her discomfort with the exclusionary sensibility thereby expressed.

This became a hotbed of commenters, the majority reflecting her concerns about rising costs, some defending the costs as reflective of the event’s expenses, and some defending the exclusionary perspective. The event is held largely in areas such as streets and parks which have access restrictions enforced during events to one extent or another and this prompts some of the debate. It seems clear that over time the event has moved to address the concerns of volunteers and ticket holders with regard to non-paying onlookers by progressively reducing knot-holing opportunities at the same time as the cost for the event has gone up.

I found myself weirdly engaged by the discussion, since I haven’t even been to Bloomington since late 2001, and wanted to grab some of my contributions.

One of the interesting exchanges was with internet friend and songwriter Kenny Childers, who expressed frustration with what he perceives to be the local media’s coverage of Lotus and similar events at the expense of significant regionally recorded and/or released music.

Kenny posted, “I’ll be honest here. Lotus irks me on a larger scale because I feel like the event is treated like the second coming of Christ every year in the HT and elsewhere. Meanwhile, a band like Thee Tsunamis charts on CMJ (local band on local label, Magnetic South), and virtually nothing. Two of the most important independent record labels around are here: Secretly Canadian & Jagjaguar- I think the HT finally mentioned SC when one of their artists WON A GRAMMY. Not to undermine the performers who are so often mind-blowing, but the local promotion of it feels like a big circle jerk being hosted by like 6 people. Ok, I promise I’m done.”

After some back and forth by others in which Kenny also noted he’d found attempting to provide the local paper (that’s “the HT,” the Herald-Telephone) with PR to be frustrating and pointless, I posted a mini-essay about how odd that was to read.

I wrote:

This is really interesting. This same split was evident thirty-five years ago; of course, it wasn’t as though local lofi labels were releasing material that had any particular national attention or in pressing quantities that would give them a shot on a broader scale. Back then, there was no local broadcast outlet for the material either. I remember just sort of figuring that midcareer reporters at the HT that were into music would reasonably be expected to be more into stuff they’d liked in their twenties and that was more accessible or derived from that world – so bigger acts got coverage and smaller-appeal and underground acts didn’t. It was kind of a drag but just one of those things that goes along with being a kid and aware of how the world is directed by older people.

But Kenny IS one of those older people now, and presumably the HT music writers are folks that are conversant with Bloomington’s past forty years of music history and heritage – I mean, I gather that Lee runs Lotus and he was one of the folks that made Second Story what it was back in the day. Not that Lee’s going to be flogging Seth’s acts in the context of Lotus or that they have any particular overlap.

I feel like I see similar stuff here, though, too. Even in the absolute height of the early 90s feeding frenzy, the local daily papers did not do a great job covering it – that was left to The Rocket and to a varying extent The Stranger. The city council passed a later-found-unconstitutional flyering ban right at the very height of it, for christ’s sake, with editorial support from the Seattle Times (I think).

So there’s something here that’s not specific to the decade or the locale. I guess maybe the papers try to guess what their readership’s demographic wants, what demographic their advertisers want to reach, and that is a demographic that skews to houseowning world-music and jazz aficionados as opposed to house-concert attending renters.

But shit, you, and Austin, and Seth and undoubtedly other folks that I just don’t know, you’re making music for grownups too, not just for me when I was sixteen. You’d think the HT or whoever might want to build that audience. Anyway. It’s somewhat amazing to me to hear this particular dynamic retains its shape.

The thread has kept going and growing now for many hours, with divergent branches and a great deal of vigorous disagreement, not a whole lot of attempts at persuasion but not a whole lot of name calling and fingerpointing either, probably because most of the participants in the thread know one another. It’s not a trainwreck, but the issues aren’t going to be resolved neatly in the conversation either.

Among many comments, one someone I don’t know stood out to me as memorable: “There are costs that have to be dealt with but back in the day you could go downtown and at least enjoy the vibe without feeling like a thief.”

I was a bit taken aback, because the comment seemed to imply that part of the activities of the event’s staff and volunteers was aimed at shaming onlookers, of actively patrolling the boundary between the privileged ticketed space in such a way as to make the boundary as public and visible as possible. Of, in other words, defining and protecting class privileges.

One of the event’s volunteers posted to essentially defend the implementation of essentially limited access policies. I won’t quote her at length but remarkably she used language that exactly mirrored the language of the commenter I just cited.

“I am one of the people responsible for blocking sightlines for those who do not pay for any tickets to the Friday or Saturday shows. It kills me to look at the crowds essentially stealing from lotus and the musicians by squeezing in to watch from outside the tents. Walk around and enjoy the music, ok, but damn, that’s crazy-bold, in my book.”

I literally couldn’t believe what I had read and it kicked off another long comment from me.

I wrote:

How in the world can you mean what you say? “Essentially stealing”? I mean, I recognize that you feel unhappy about people attempting to view and listen to music and performers without paying. But in what possible sense is that stealing? If someone snuck into a paid-entry area, that’s clearly a violation of the rules. But these are outdoor venues, right? If the core value here is to protect the performance and audio as a limited-use-and-access good, the performances should be inside in gated and sound-insulated spaces, I would think.

I mean, I remember watching IU football games from the berm outside the stadium as a kid. Admittedly, they were terrible, and therefore the performance had limited value, and it wasn’t something I was super into or anything. But unless I just don’t understand your meaning and intent, or unless you possibly mean something different and used words that don’t convey your view accurately, according to your viewpoint I was essentially stealing, and that just doesn’t seem to describe what I did.

I keep puzzling over this and I don’t feel right challenging your vocabulary. I mean, I don’t understand what you mean, but I need to respect your words and try to gain a viewpoint in common.

You feel that something is being stolen, and it’s something that is valuable enough that it irritates you. I do feel on solid ground challenging the perception that it’s the performance or the audio, because it seems unlikely to diminish revenue and because open-air implies open access. So something else is being stolen.

Could it be that you sees the non-paying onlookers as devaluing your volunteer work, that outside onlookers are disrespecting your community contribution?

That is, you and other volunteers are committing your own time in exchange for access to the performances, and when others also have even partial access, the volunteer’s time commitment is devalued, because why volunteer if you could just show up? That would generate strong feelings, I think. One possibly way of offsetting that might be to provide a dedicated volunteer-access only performance, like in a closed indoor venue. Wouldn’t that be a valued exchange good, an exclusive-access show available only to volunteers and not for sale at any price?

Anyway, they’re still at it.

Too Soon

I regularly read Wodehouse’s Jeeves and Wooster material as a sort of palate cleanser between whatever more weighty reading I have been occupying myself with and recently set out on tackling the canon, as I have done with many other genre characters and authors. Inevitably my appreciation for the material deepens even as I note the authors recycling, treading water, and otherwise returning to themes, often with what appear to be a lack of volition and sometimes (I appreciate these the most) a lack of self-awareness.
Wodehouse’s stuff is *deeply* controlled and self-aware, his central dictum (or perhaps that should be the latin for the opposite of what is uttered as a rule, beyond my scope) being “don’t talk about the war.”

He repurposed pre-war stories featuring a character called “Reggie Pepper” as Jeeves and Wooster stories. Jeeves is named after a British athlete, a cricketer, who died in 1916 in the Great War. Wodehouse himself was interned during World War Two by the Germans and was induced to participate in wartime propaganda broadcasts. He also introduced a character to his material before the war intended specifically to mock English fascists.

Wooster’s vocabulary in particular relies on prewar British upper-class slang and continues to do so until Wodehouse’s death, tinkerty-tonk. Neither war is ever mentioned. Tonight as I was musing on this it struck me that Bertie Wooster, like Billy Pilgrim, was knocked loose from time by these wars. It’s not unreasonable to suggest that the wars created the market for these comforting, funny stories about a time and place that never existed, where the poor are invisible and the wealthy are fools. It’s a shame that Wodehouse never wrote of Bertie’s life with or without Jeeves in the outer colonies.

The other antecedent to Jeeves and Wooster I keep seeing in this trawl is Holmes and Watson, a resemblance not missed by Wodehouse, down to the recycled stories and repeated plot elements.

(Originally posted on Facebook)

(Relatedly, “What Ho, Gods of the Abyss“)

Armstrong

A friend on FB posted a link to “Before the Moon” at the BBC, and that prompted this memory:

I’ve been a member of the local Museum of Flight for years and years. They send a magazine every other month that I usually forget to look at and because I’ve been a member for so long I get invites to donor events. I usually just put them in a pile and look at them every so often because I have found I am a poor cultural fit with the folks that tend to show up at these things. Not hopelessly so, as there will be plenty of opportunities to nerd out about airplanes, but usually the people that don’t also want to talk politics are over my head mathematically and the people who want to talk politics unselfconsciously tend to open their conversation by saying stuff I find personally threatening, usually without being aware that they are so doing. Not always and of course I generalize, but this holds true often enough that I just put ’em on the pile.

About two months before Commander Armstrong passed away, I went through one of these piles to find an unopened invitation to a fundraising dinner in support of the MoF’s effort to become the eventual home for one of the retiring Space Shuttles. At the time, the Museum’s president and leader was a retired Shuttle-era astronaut and she was instrumental in leading the effort to bring an orbiter here. The efforts failed, but a knock-on effect was that the museum significantly expanded its’ collection of space-related artifacts, in particular personal effects of Apollo and Gemini program vets. This was often in association with appearances at the Museum by these aging astronauts, usually in conjunction with private fundraising events.

The invitation was to one of these, a holiday event about four months gone. It was a run-of-the mill invitation to an event I had already missed – until I saw who the guest of honor was: Neil Armstrong. Armstrong had essentially stopped all public appearances over twenty years prior due to his discomfort with the increasing pressure he felt to sign autographs and so forth, going to great lengths in his old age to resist the commodification of his presence and traces thereof, including a legal dispute with his barber over the unauthorized sale of hair clippings. I was flabbergasted. I quickly dug through the pile of magazines to find the one issued after the holidays in early spring, and flipped to the flash-saturated event photos. There he was, wizened, gripping and grinning like a trouper. Apparently he permitted an unlimited photo op, although now that consider it, that can’t possibly be right. I mean surely it’s possible, but that’s a lot to ask of this elderly, private man.

Whatever, I’ll never know, because I did not open the invitation to the event. I was invited (along with a couple of thousand other folks) to have dinner with Neil Armstrong, and I did not know it because I unnecessarily make negative and dismissive assumptions about the world.

Syncthing

This looks like a promising alternative to BitTorrent Sync.

UPDATE: Literally the day after I wrote this, my install of BitTorrent Sync began showing an alert badge, so I went to check it out.

Earlier this week, BTS announced some changes to their offerings. The previous application was offered free with some functional limits which involved limiting the number of folders that could be created at the root of the shared folder, a slightly confusing policy that actually prevented me for ever even trying it once I had it up and running.

The revisions include a permanent, apparently fully-featured free version with no folder limits and a one-time upgrade to a Pro license at a $39.99, (discounted by $9.99 until 9/22). I’m still not clear on what the feature differences are between Pro and non, but the removal of the folder-count limit was enough to get me to dump my LAN share folder into BTS.

Previously I had been using AerosFS but they announced end-of-life for personal users and had originally been the ones pointing me at BTS.

I’m glad to see some life in LAN-only sync.

Anyway, long story short, I have now stripped out most of the content I was previously hosting via DropBox including some enormous client asset bases and can drop the DBX annual fee too, so that’s another $10 a month saved.

I’ve been mulling over trying to renegotiate my service fees with CenturyLink, which have steadily crept up over the years, from $97 in Feb. 2013 to $113 today. I think the first step in that process would be identifying alternative DSL providers and looking at Comcast again.

Automation

Notes and such regarding keyboard macro products for Mac OS X, circa late summer 2015.

Doing a bunch of data entry on Quickbooks Mac I was grated on by the numerous anti-usability design decisions that seem endemic to accounting software in general but are especially egregious in certain Intuit products.

The primary work-flow offender in QBX is the lack of keyboard shortcuts to power through required data-entry issues when entering charges and expenses – if the charge requires data entry to capture surcharges, such as a purchase with a sales tax, there does not appear to be a no-mouse way to open the ‘splits’ view, even when the program auto-populates the expenditure with a multi-line charge based on the last prior charge associated with the vendor.

Worse, ones you correct the incorrect amounts, rather than automatically recalculating, you must mouse to the button labeled ‘Recalc’ and THEN the charge is entered. As I recall, the Windows version has some slight usability advantages in similar matters but I have to get Viv using this too and that was something that proved impossible under Windows over a period of five years, soo…

At any rate!

(I do realize Automator might be able to provide what I need and will take a look at it too when I am ready to define a specific actionset. However, as QBX has a long track record of doing things its own way I’m not really expecting Apple’s tool to provide what I need.)

QUICK KEYS – $59.95/seat
No longer the same product or ownership as the venerable System 7 keyboard automation software.

  • Latest release and date? Unclear, but likely release date of 2009: “Designed for Mac OS X 10.5 Leopard and 10.6 Snow Leopard. With assistance from our Support Department and our customers, QuicKeys 4 substantially works with 10.7 Lion, 10.8 Mountain Lion, 10.9 Mavericks, and 10.10 Yosemite.
  • Demo download? Download before purchase, yes.

KEYBOARD MAESTRO – $36/seat
From Stairways, former and original developers of Anarchie. The KM site notes that KM was an acquired product.

  • Latest release and date? 7.0.1, 18 August 2015 – clearly under active development.
  • Demo download? Yes.

iKEY – $30/seat
Developers Plum Amazing offer a range of apps on several platforms and the iKey site prominently features an Adam Engst ‘Take Control’ Book.

  • Latest release and date? 2.5.3, 6/17/14
  • Demo download? Yes.

And some dark horses…

Mac Mouse Recorder – $19.95/seat
From JitBit, distributed indie team with a contemporary sensibility.

  • Latest release and date? 0.7, 9/16/2012
  • Demo download? Yes.

Macro Recorder for MacFree? I could not find a price. $5.00, although I am not sure how to pay.
From MurGaa. Given the barebones site design and Quirky use of Language and Capitalization, I surmise this is a one-person shop with cultural roots in the subcontinent. There is quite a range of automation apps here. The UI design on them is pretty engineering-forward, but hey, if it’s free…

  • Latest release and date? 5.0, Feb. 5, 2015
  • Demo download? Yes.

OK, that’s the lineup. I’ll continue when I have implemented.

Data

Ah, data entry with Quickbooks, how I loathe your nonsensical, sandpaper-like forced use of the mouse and outright rejection of graceful entry-button focus shifts. You’ve driven me into the arms of Keyboard Maestro and other macro overlays yet again.

Activities

Over the past few days we’ve done a few things. We went to see a movie at the Crest, Avengers, Age of Ultron, which I had actually both forgotten about and forgotten the generally negative reviews of. The reviews were right, which is too bad. Still, it made Viv happy.

We then dined nearby at a very old-school (American) Chinese place which we picked because the parking lot was packed, and it was a good call. The food was nothing special or spectacular but it was good and tasty and fast and cheap.

We went to a baseball game on Friday with Spencer and Daena and many members of Daena’s professional association, which was fun. By happy chance it was an Iwakuma start and I was pleased to be going. I finally got around to taking the damn bus, which is the most practical choice when Vivian and I are meeting to attend a game on a Friday. Unfortunately beginning Tuesday or Wednesday I began feeling poorly, apparently a major arthritis and inflammatory disorder flare-up and was feeling weak and in pain all the way through the weekend. I was somewhat subdued, I am afraid.

I had to go try to take a nap after we’d eaten before Spencer and Daena showed up and walked to the car to try to do so. It was an unseasonably warm day and the car was parked in full sun, and I unthinkingly turned it on and ran the A/C for a little bit before realizing that was hopeless and useless and rolling down the window instead. I then turned the car off.

On leaving when I rolled up the windows I noticed that they were verrry slugggggiish but didn’t really think about it.

When we reached the car after the game, the doors would not unlock for the key fob and when we finally got in the car would not start. Somehow, I had drained the starter battery.

I called triple A. It was hard to convey the address of our location and I ended up on the phone with their intake person for about 30 minutes. During that time a random sportsbro saw what was up and offered to try a jump. Viv and I had both thought that Priuses could not be jumped but that proved, happily (and logically) to be incorrect. Priuses apparently cannot jump other cars, if I understand correctly, but they are quite jumpable. Which is a relief.

So I was able to cancel the call to AAA and off we went.

Then last night we drove to Bellevue to have dinner with my old girlfriend Julie, whom I hadn’t seen since just after Suzy’s death. Julie and I have been in touch on and off online for many years so we knew the general outline of each others’ lives and have also kept up via Facebook for the past decade or so but we hadn’t seen or spoken to each other for thirty years or so. Of course Viv had never met her either. We all had a great time, and it was very pleasant to catch up.

Julie was in town for a presentation and instructional seminar on hair techniques – she is a traveling trainer and presenter for Redken – and we had both known that at some point she would get to do a session here. It was great to reconnect.

My job hunt has been going OK, not great but not terrible. I have had two face-to-face interviews, both times for jobs that I was clearly overqualified for, so it’s no surprise I have not heard back from the interviewers for these gigs. It’s just a sales-contact problem so they key thing here is to maximize contacts and keep plugging away.

Gains

I stopped posting here just before the change in months mostly because I am still working on the database export and did not want to increase the entry base here while still trying to get everything out. After working out the methodology I need to run the experiments, there’s no harm in adding entries, so I have a few to run through.

First, over last weekend in August we bought Viv a new desk, a low-boy fold-out secretary which looks to be prewar and probably local – the wood is bone-dry cedar and the desk is light as a feather, which was kind of a relief because it meant I didn’t hurt myself hauling it into the house.

It was a little convoluted to set up, as Viv has been using the built-in kitchen-counter desk that was built when they remodeled the house in the late 1960s. It was a very simple, small des, 18″ x 42″ with a laminate surface and a two-cubby masonite dependency just big enough for a could of phone books. Plainly meant as a palling desk for the home’s domestic needs such as bill-paying and meal-planning, Viv was never happy with it and it offered zero storage.

In order to move her new desk in, I had to demo the old desk, spackle, mud, and repaint the wall, install the old desk downstairs as an additional work surface in the tool/mud room, and conduct a series of minor repairs to the incoming antique desk.

It took a few days but everything went well and she is now happily ensconced in the new work environment.

Losses

An article on Slog prompted a memory, which I posted as a comment over there, and then reshared on Facebook, and which also should be here.

Inside the Seattle Clinic That Survived the Darkest Days of AIDS, by Matt Baume, looks at a doctor and clinic whose career coincides with the time I have lived in Seattle.

My original comment on Slog:

my first apartment in seattle was the upstairs of a small house at the corner of 12th and Denny. Central Co-op was across the street. The lower floor was occupied by a band of midwives and doulas. There was no physical separation between our upstairs one-bedroom late-80s freshly remodeled space and the medical offices downstairs.

This was curious to me and after befriending the (curiously clearly non-breeder) breeder helpers downstairs, I asked why and how the place was remodeled in such a way, apartment upstairs, no door, medical facility downstairs.

They explained that the house had been owned by a gay couple, doctors, who had recognized the urgent need in the community for safe spaces and committed care.

They’d each passed away from AIDS sometime within a relatively recent timeframe. My impression was that the midwives and doulas were the first tenants after the former proprietors had passed. Occam then taught me in turn that I and my then-partner were the first tenants in what had been the doctors’ residence. I never learned their names. In common with Occam, they still taught me a great deal, and I suppose I should look up the property records to learn if I can write a note to their families.

Then in the discussion on Facebook another memory cropped up.

There was this one guy I met a couple times, never clocked his orientation, showed up somewhere with a pal from Bloomington some of you might remember, Dave Dushe. We had had a great time talking about obscure rock bullshit the first time we met. I remember actually thinking to myself, “Damn, Millen would love this dude” with absolutely no consciousness of anything other than this guy was funny and liked rock music.

Anyway, the second time I saw him he just looked like shit, and I didn’t beat around the bush, I was just like, “what the fuck is up, you look like a fucking junkie.”

He just unloaded on me. He was getting ready to go into hospice with AIDS and was so fucking mad about it. I eventually just had to turn and walk away but I give great credit to his rant. I will not post it here, but it was something else. In the moment, it wasn’t something that was emotionally affecting for me – I really just did not know the guy – but over time I have come to appreciate and admire it and to regret I did not try to record it in writing.

Old pal Jennifer Johnson noted to me that it was possible this fellow might have been suffering from AIDS dementia, which seems like a good guess. Anyway, it’s a damn shame he, and they, passed away.