There are some things in the tech world I seize on right away, and others I refuse to upgrade on. Firefox 3.6 was one of those I stuck with. I had tried the FF beta, but found its tab handling overbearing, and refused all updates. And then a couple of months ago, Mozilla made Firefox v. 11 a "minor update" for 3.6, and I went through a quiet upgrade. I put up with the tabs, got used to the new interface.
And that was, coincidentally, when the problems started. I'd take out my laptop to write a blog post (or maybe something else), but it wouldn't start. I'd press the start button to wake it out of hibernate mode. Although with a 90% charge, it had no business going there. But then half the time the Mac would go through a full restart. It's a three-year-old MacBook Pro. Not brand new, but shouldn't be entering senility yet.
Yesterday I saw a post on this on a now-forgotten feed. The conclusion was the "check for updates" feature of all programs. The only one I always run that I can think of that does this is Firefox. So I went into Preferences/Updates, chose "Never check for updates", and we'll see if that fixes the problem.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Consistency in Software: Case #3841-22
chrome $ unzip --help UnZip 5.52 of 28 February 2005, by Info-ZIP. Maintained by C. Spieler. Send bug reports using http://www.info-zip.org/zip-bug.html; see README for details. Usage: unzip [-Z] [-opts[modifiers]] file[.zip] [list] [-x xlist] [-d exdir] # 2 dozen lines of helpful info omitted chrome $ zip --help zip error: Invalid command arguments (no such option: -) chrome $
There's a very logical explanation for this, similar to why certain words in English are spelled in apparently arbitrary, inconsistent ways. For
example, while it might seem maddening to remember which adjectives end
in "able" and which end in "ible", all you have to remember is whether
the Latin word the adjective is derived from ends in "abilis" or "ibilis".
Another useful cue,which I can't come up with a concrete example for, is
knowing in whch rough century a word entered the English language. Knowledge
of the fashion at the time could help remembering whether a trade, for
example, would end in "er" or "or".
It's similar in software. Sometime around the turn of the century the GNU
Coding Standard calling for "--help" for command-line help options was
adopted nearly universally. Before that common ways of accessing help
were "-h", "-?", or programs often left the help to the man page[2].
The link program I run has a 2005 copyright on it, while the zip program
was last compiled in 1999.
So obviously to be a fluent user of a system you need to know when the
various tools you use were last compiled. Chances are, if you knew that,
you wouldn't need the online help -- there's enough in your head already.
Any program that supports "--help" and doesn't have a "-h" option, and is
unlikely to ever tie it up, might as well map "-h" to "--help". Doing
otherwise leaves the impression that the user is an incapible moron and
software is inflexable.
[1] http://www.gnu.org/prep/standards/html_node/Command_002dLine-Interfaces.html#Command_002dLine-Interfaces
was dropped
[2] http://www.faqs.org/docs/artu/ch10s05.html
Vancouver's Bike Lanes: We're Eating Airplane Food
One of the first times I saw Father Guido Sarducci was on Letterman, back in the days when Dave was funny ("hip" and "ironic" were big terms in the 80s, because so few shows were), Sarducci was asking why airplane food was so bad. (Yes, for my two readers who weren't around then, airlines used to serve passengers real meals on flights over 3 hours long. With metal cutlery and real plates. What could they have been thinking???) Anyway, he said if you were trapped in a well for a week, and after the rescuers pulled you out and offered you a typical airplane meal, you'd think it was pretty good. But otherwise, no.
Tonight's talk by Mikael Colville-Andersen on bicycle design for cities reminded me of the Sarducci routine. Andersen's talk was entertaining, of course. But during the questions from the audience, someone asked him how he felt about Vancouver's bike network. We had already seen the slide of the broken chair which can still support a grown man standing on it, just like the bike infrastructure. But with that question, Andersen got serious, and took the city to task for ignoring the "best practices", just copying and pasting, and instead built things like two-way separated lanes which Copenhagen had tried and tossed out 20 years ago.
This isn't the first time I've heard something like this. But after spending decades in various North American cities dodging errant BMWs and other sundry 4-wheeled scum while trying to get from point A to B, I was like that guy in the well, just happy to have a few crumbs of separated bikeways tossed my way. And forgetting how it should be.
Now that we know that one separated lane on the Burrard Bridge doesn't have morning rush hour traffic backed up 16 blocks -- it's more or less like it was before the lane change -- it's time to put in the separate northbound lane and return the east sidewalk to the pedestrians. I personally don't mind the two-way lanes on Hornby and Dunsmiur, but I can see how less-seasoned riders might. If they need to be included to meet the city's goals for 2040, then finish the job and put in dedicated one-way lanes on Richards and Georgia to complement the other two.
But then I also used to make my own lunches back in elementary school with Venice Bakery's airline-style buns. Shows you what people will put up with when they don't know any better.
Andersen's talk will probably find its way online somewhere, but you can hear the gist of his talk at Wednesday's interview on The Current
And if anyone can find the Sarducci sketch I mentioned, please let me know. I vaguely recall he read some of his correspondence with the airline in question, where they apologized for the meal that didn't meet his expectations, and he said that he wasn't referring to a specific meal. He was referring to the Platonic notion of an airplane meal (which is now more of a Buddhist ideal).
The Fridays sketch is just a placeholder. Think of it as an incentive to get someone to find the clip in mind. I need to refresh that 30-year-old memory.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Salt Spring: Maybe the best ride I've ever done
It's been a typical late-June Vancouver weekend, I'm exhausted, but there are some people waiting to hear how the Salt Spring/Velo Village (those would both look better as single words, but I'm not going to quibble with typographical conventions here) ride went. A few words first, then a few pictures.
Background: as a prelude to the Velo City conference in Vancouver this week, some people I never got to meet organized a mini-conference on rural cycling on Salt Spring. The highlight was a first-time ever bicycle-only ferry from Swartz Bay (north of Victoria) to Fulford Harbour, at the south end of Salt Spring, followed by a 15km ride on the second route to Ganges, with no northbound car traffic to deal with.
I haven't been to the Gulf Islands a lot, but everytime I've been there I realized it would have been nice to cycle, but you have to deal with a combination of narrow roads, steep hills, plenty of curves, and, of course, cars. The shoulders are thin or non-existent. So when I heard about the ride, I realized it was a great opportunity to truly enjoy one of the islands.
But June weather in this part of the world can be unpredictable, and this year's was unusually wet. The weather forecast wasn't looking good, with "rain" on Friday, and "showers" on Saturday. When they say "rain", they're talking about the kind Ken Kesey described so well in the opening chapter of Sometimes A Great Notion. You want to get a towel and sit in front of a hot air register after reading that chapter.
But on Friday the next day's forecast for Vancouver and Victoria was just showers, and light showers and sun for Salt Spring. I called Heather at the must-see must-buy-everything Salt Spring Bakery, to see what was happening there. "It's raining right now". Obviously that meant the rain would pass, so I asked her to save me one loaf of Apricot-Almond, and one of whatever she was making with ginger, booked my Velo Village ride ticket, and figured out how to fit everything else in for the weekend.
Another thing about June in Vancouver, is a lot of big events happen then, under some assumption that everyone leaves town in July and August. Some people do, but the exodus is miniscule compared to places like Toronto or Montreal, to name the places I'm familiar with (when I lived in Ottawa everyone was either starting out or had young families and not at the cottage-buying stage of life; don't know if they are now). So among the things going on this weekend were also the annual MadSkillz juggling and-other-stuff festival, Maker Faire, Greek Day (lemon-lamb souvlaki...), the jazz festival, a family birthday celebration. Plus the usual other things to do every weekend. But this bike ride might be a once-in-a-lifetime event.
So I went to sleep Friday night listening to heavy rain, woke up around 5 AM (before the alarm -- how did that happen?) listening to incessant drizzle, got everything in the car, and headed to Tsawassen, and saw a few dozen cyclists pulling gear out of cars in the parking lot and getting ready. Did I mention that about 5 miles before the parking lot my wipers started complaining that they had nothing to do? One of the best sounds you can hear when setting out on a ride.
Enough words, here are some pictures…
A perfect day for riding. I learned that I can deal with big island hills way more easily than I can deal with cars. And did you notice what's not in the pictures (not that I realized it when I was taking them): hardly anyone was wearing the full boat cycling gear. Some cycle shorts, but the only other synthetics were typically for dealing with rain, not resistance. Most of the people were out for a fun, relaxing, enjoyable ride (given a few steep hills). And got it.
I don't know when Salt Spring, or any of the other Gulf Islands will be running a ride like this. But does want to do the Chilly Hilly next year outside Seattle?
Background: as a prelude to the Velo City conference in Vancouver this week, some people I never got to meet organized a mini-conference on rural cycling on Salt Spring. The highlight was a first-time ever bicycle-only ferry from Swartz Bay (north of Victoria) to Fulford Harbour, at the south end of Salt Spring, followed by a 15km ride on the second route to Ganges, with no northbound car traffic to deal with.
I haven't been to the Gulf Islands a lot, but everytime I've been there I realized it would have been nice to cycle, but you have to deal with a combination of narrow roads, steep hills, plenty of curves, and, of course, cars. The shoulders are thin or non-existent. So when I heard about the ride, I realized it was a great opportunity to truly enjoy one of the islands.
But June weather in this part of the world can be unpredictable, and this year's was unusually wet. The weather forecast wasn't looking good, with "rain" on Friday, and "showers" on Saturday. When they say "rain", they're talking about the kind Ken Kesey described so well in the opening chapter of Sometimes A Great Notion. You want to get a towel and sit in front of a hot air register after reading that chapter.
But on Friday the next day's forecast for Vancouver and Victoria was just showers, and light showers and sun for Salt Spring. I called Heather at the must-see must-buy-everything Salt Spring Bakery, to see what was happening there. "It's raining right now". Obviously that meant the rain would pass, so I asked her to save me one loaf of Apricot-Almond, and one of whatever she was making with ginger, booked my Velo Village ride ticket, and figured out how to fit everything else in for the weekend.
Another thing about June in Vancouver, is a lot of big events happen then, under some assumption that everyone leaves town in July and August. Some people do, but the exodus is miniscule compared to places like Toronto or Montreal, to name the places I'm familiar with (when I lived in Ottawa everyone was either starting out or had young families and not at the cottage-buying stage of life; don't know if they are now). So among the things going on this weekend were also the annual MadSkillz juggling and-other-stuff festival, Maker Faire, Greek Day (lemon-lamb souvlaki...), the jazz festival, a family birthday celebration. Plus the usual other things to do every weekend. But this bike ride might be a once-in-a-lifetime event.
So I went to sleep Friday night listening to heavy rain, woke up around 5 AM (before the alarm -- how did that happen?) listening to incessant drizzle, got everything in the car, and headed to Tsawassen, and saw a few dozen cyclists pulling gear out of cars in the parking lot and getting ready. Did I mention that about 5 miles before the parking lot my wipers started complaining that they had nothing to do? One of the best sounds you can hear when setting out on a ride.
Enough words, here are some pictures…
 |
| My attempt at capturing pure fog |
 |
| Normally there are mountains in that background, gives you a better idea of the weather we were looking at. |
 |
| Check-in for the bike ferry |
 |
| Best ferry waiting line ever |
 |
| Boarding |
 |
| Entertainment provided by the Fabulous Flakes |
 |
| All that space… |
 |
| Getting ready to ride |
 |
| First hill out of Fulford |
 |
| Locals singing, dancing, and drumming at the first Encouragement Station |
 |
| Bike art, one of about 100 scattered over the island |
 |
| Toughing it up the main hill |
 |
| And getting closer to the top |
 |
| Island forest bliss |
 |
| This hill was nothing compare to the previous one |
 |
| Salt Spring's answer to Slugging |
 |
| Red Sara and Lori K, with unidentified happy guy behind them. |
 |
| 90 minutes to go up (with stops), maybe 10 minutes to get to Ganges. Here's the bike park. |
 |
| It's Salt Spring. Custom goat cheese at the market |
 |
| Custom chocolate |
 |
| Ghost artbike on the way back |
I don't know when Salt Spring, or any of the other Gulf Islands will be running a ride like this. But does want to do the Chilly Hilly next year outside Seattle?
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Link of the Day: The Rule of 72
Not a lot of time, but this post took me back in time.
First, I learned about the Rule of 72 from my uncle, back in the
days of double-digit interest rates. It was a quick way of figuring
out when an investment was expected to double. Conversely, you could
use it to figure out how long it would take for the amount you owe
your credit company to double as well, if you couldn't pay it off.
At the time I remembered the Taylor expansion of e (or is it the
Maclaurin expansion), and could derive why this worked.
About ten years later I met Terry Jones at Indiana U, learned how to
bounce five balls (and why bouncing five balls looked so much better
than the much harder accomplishment of keeping seven balls in the air).
Terry soon after left the 80s-era computer science of Hofstadter's
office for the emerging, cooler complexity theory of Santa Fe,
and now runs a startup in NYC.
And today I was pointed to his post yesterday about the rule of 72.
Go read it, and amaze or bore your less financially literate buds.
http://blogs.fluidinfo.com/terry/2011/06/20/back-of-the-envelope-calculations-with-the-rule-of-72/
First, I learned about the Rule of 72 from my uncle, back in the
days of double-digit interest rates. It was a quick way of figuring
out when an investment was expected to double. Conversely, you could
use it to figure out how long it would take for the amount you owe
your credit company to double as well, if you couldn't pay it off.
At the time I remembered the Taylor expansion of e (or is it the
Maclaurin expansion), and could derive why this worked.
About ten years later I met Terry Jones at Indiana U, learned how to
bounce five balls (and why bouncing five balls looked so much better
than the much harder accomplishment of keeping seven balls in the air).
Terry soon after left the 80s-era computer science of Hofstadter's
office for the emerging, cooler complexity theory of Santa Fe,
and now runs a startup in NYC.
And today I was pointed to his post yesterday about the rule of 72.
Go read it, and amaze or bore your less financially literate buds.
http://blogs.fluidinfo.com/terry/2011/06/20/back-of-the-envelope-calculations-with-the-rule-of-72/
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Richmond River Road Ride -- Psycho!Geography with RedSara
So Velopalooza, the big bike love fest, came and went, and I didn't bother going on any rides in the rainy weather. But the tradition of spontaneously organizing rides has hung on, and when I heard about a ride RedSara, a local artist, had proposed, a twilight ride along the north arm of the Fraser River, I was hooked.
Our intrepid leader, RedSara
I'll let the pictures tell most of the story, but I stopped taking shots after sundown, but I'm now on the lookout for a bike-friendly collapsible tripod. Hopefully the pictures can convey how the trip straddled Vancouver's two worlds -- the peacefulness of the river on its last legs to the sea, mixed with a few former and working vestiges of the industry that used to blanket most of this area.
We started at the Marine Drive station on the new Canada Line skytrain, meeting by the sculptures. After allowing for the inevitable latecomers (we are in Vancouver after all), we headed over the pedestrian/bike bridge over the river. I've crossed enough times over the R. D. Laing[*] and Oak Street bridges to know that I'll probably always make the detour for this bridge now. It's that cool.
View from the Canada Line bridge
New views of the city
The route east from the bike bridge is a mixture of riding on the dike and River Road. Most of this route went through Richmond's warehouse district (I know, you're probably wondering what part of Richmond isn't the warehouse district). The district ends at the site of the Night Market, and as we passed under the Knight Street bridge (which boasts an average of two accidents/weekday, one at each end), we got to enjoy a bit of nature, before encountering the plywood factory, an amazing piece of industrial kinetic sculpture backed with symphony of buzzsaws, drive chains, and reversing forklift trucks. Sara pointed out a couple of picnic tables next to the plant, a logical place to stop for a snack while on the route.
The sites after the plant are a blur of more industrial spots, farms (including the Rabbit River egg place), a few houses, and the incongruously located Riverside Ballroom, located somewhere between No. 6 and 7 Roads. We caught the end of the sunset off a pier located somewhere due south of the new residential developments at the southeast tip of Vancouver proper. People were fishing, and they were even keeping their catch for later eating. When the Fraser used to be dotted with industry on both sides, you wouldn't think of fishing it. We contemplated the gains of fresher air and water, and a more peaceful environment, results of that big exchange that's taken place over the last few decades, where we traded industrial jobs and their side-effects with our overseas partners, and got a better environment in return. The harder problem is to figure out how to reduce pollution worldwide.
We biked along the east end of River Road in darkness, joined by the occasional car, and farm workers walking home with bags of groceries they bought at one of the big malls in Queensborough. And there was no missing Queensborough. The last paved part of River Road dumped us onto Westminster Highway, and we went from the world of rabbits, fish and beaver to the land of the car. Queensborough has it all -- the Stardust, the kind of tawdry casino that Las Vegas razed in the 90s; what looks like the biggest Big Box mall in the lower mainland; and the piece de resistance, the ICBC write-off lot, sprawling below us as we biked over the Queensborough bridge to the 22nd St. Skytrain station, and our return to the city.
As Dennis pointed out (the guy in the recom trike), there were about 15 of us on the ride, but it's easily accessible to a few hundred thousand other Vancouverites. All you need is a bike and the cash or tickets for two skytrain rides, and you too can enjoy this triangle ride. From downtown, you can take the skytrain to one of the two terminals, either the Marine Drive station on the Canada Line, or the 22nd St. station on the Expo line, find your way to River Road, bike along it, and take the other train back home. In the evening, it makes sense to bike east, so you don't have the sun in your eyes (or in the eyes of the drivers approaching behind you). But I would prefer to start with the car-oriented nightmare of New West/Queensborough, and end on the Canada Line bridge. Except for the two bridges, the ride is completely flat.
There are also a few logistical details to work out at some point, mainly getting to/from River Rd. and Westminster Hwy., and 22nd St. There is a bike path along Westminster, and since Hwy 91 opened, Westminster isn't that busy. There are also signs pointing to New West for bikes; you want to ride on the west side of the Queensborough bridge. The bike path on the bridge actually feels quite safe, compared to other bridges in the city, like the ones to the North Shore. A solid barrier separates the bikes from the cars, and the outer railing is high enough to soothe all but the most acrophobic.
If you're concerned about hitting a forklift truck at the plywood factory, you can detour around via Vulcan Way, but then you'll miss the special bike tunnel that goes under the assembly line. It really needs to be seen, but if you're bringing kids along, I can understand giving it a pass. But then I'd advise waiting until the kids are at least 10 or so, and will appreciate the plant.
Finally, there aren't a lot of cars on River Road, but most of the ones we encountered were driving fast. Be sure you're visible, especially if there's only one of you, as opposed to a group of 15 or so (not that that guarantees safety, these days).
[*] Isn't it about time we rename this bridge after the sometimes local writer, instead of a long-forgotten Trudeau-era hack? Whose legacy is still around anyway?
I'll let the pictures tell most of the story, but I stopped taking shots after sundown, but I'm now on the lookout for a bike-friendly collapsible tripod. Hopefully the pictures can convey how the trip straddled Vancouver's two worlds -- the peacefulness of the river on its last legs to the sea, mixed with a few former and working vestiges of the industry that used to blanket most of this area.
We started at the Marine Drive station on the new Canada Line skytrain, meeting by the sculptures. After allowing for the inevitable latecomers (we are in Vancouver after all), we headed over the pedestrian/bike bridge over the river. I've crossed enough times over the R. D. Laing[*] and Oak Street bridges to know that I'll probably always make the detour for this bridge now. It's that cool.
The route east from the bike bridge is a mixture of riding on the dike and River Road. Most of this route went through Richmond's warehouse district (I know, you're probably wondering what part of Richmond isn't the warehouse district). The district ends at the site of the Night Market, and as we passed under the Knight Street bridge (which boasts an average of two accidents/weekday, one at each end), we got to enjoy a bit of nature, before encountering the plywood factory, an amazing piece of industrial kinetic sculpture backed with symphony of buzzsaws, drive chains, and reversing forklift trucks. Sara pointed out a couple of picnic tables next to the plant, a logical place to stop for a snack while on the route.
The sites after the plant are a blur of more industrial spots, farms (including the Rabbit River egg place), a few houses, and the incongruously located Riverside Ballroom, located somewhere between No. 6 and 7 Roads. We caught the end of the sunset off a pier located somewhere due south of the new residential developments at the southeast tip of Vancouver proper. People were fishing, and they were even keeping their catch for later eating. When the Fraser used to be dotted with industry on both sides, you wouldn't think of fishing it. We contemplated the gains of fresher air and water, and a more peaceful environment, results of that big exchange that's taken place over the last few decades, where we traded industrial jobs and their side-effects with our overseas partners, and got a better environment in return. The harder problem is to figure out how to reduce pollution worldwide.
We biked along the east end of River Road in darkness, joined by the occasional car, and farm workers walking home with bags of groceries they bought at one of the big malls in Queensborough. And there was no missing Queensborough. The last paved part of River Road dumped us onto Westminster Highway, and we went from the world of rabbits, fish and beaver to the land of the car. Queensborough has it all -- the Stardust, the kind of tawdry casino that Las Vegas razed in the 90s; what looks like the biggest Big Box mall in the lower mainland; and the piece de resistance, the ICBC write-off lot, sprawling below us as we biked over the Queensborough bridge to the 22nd St. Skytrain station, and our return to the city.
If You Go
As Dennis pointed out (the guy in the recom trike), there were about 15 of us on the ride, but it's easily accessible to a few hundred thousand other Vancouverites. All you need is a bike and the cash or tickets for two skytrain rides, and you too can enjoy this triangle ride. From downtown, you can take the skytrain to one of the two terminals, either the Marine Drive station on the Canada Line, or the 22nd St. station on the Expo line, find your way to River Road, bike along it, and take the other train back home. In the evening, it makes sense to bike east, so you don't have the sun in your eyes (or in the eyes of the drivers approaching behind you). But I would prefer to start with the car-oriented nightmare of New West/Queensborough, and end on the Canada Line bridge. Except for the two bridges, the ride is completely flat.
There are also a few logistical details to work out at some point, mainly getting to/from River Rd. and Westminster Hwy., and 22nd St. There is a bike path along Westminster, and since Hwy 91 opened, Westminster isn't that busy. There are also signs pointing to New West for bikes; you want to ride on the west side of the Queensborough bridge. The bike path on the bridge actually feels quite safe, compared to other bridges in the city, like the ones to the North Shore. A solid barrier separates the bikes from the cars, and the outer railing is high enough to soothe all but the most acrophobic.
If you're concerned about hitting a forklift truck at the plywood factory, you can detour around via Vulcan Way, but then you'll miss the special bike tunnel that goes under the assembly line. It really needs to be seen, but if you're bringing kids along, I can understand giving it a pass. But then I'd advise waiting until the kids are at least 10 or so, and will appreciate the plant.
Finally, there aren't a lot of cars on River Road, but most of the ones we encountered were driving fast. Be sure you're visible, especially if there's only one of you, as opposed to a group of 15 or so (not that that guarantees safety, these days).
[*] Isn't it about time we rename this bridge after the sometimes local writer, instead of a long-forgotten Trudeau-era hack? Whose legacy is still around anyway?
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Recession Bellingham & the 3rd of July
Tough times are finally showing up in Bellingham. Five years ago the town boasted that it was on a top ten list for expensive residential real estate in the U.S., and now the place is full of for sale signs and boarded up businesses.
This video store has been at the local mini-mall, near Lake Whatcom, since we started coming here ten years ago. But it was no match for the 1-2-3 punch of Netflix, internet downloads, and a moribund economy. The swimming pool's also closed this summer, due to a budget shortfall this year, and a deficit last year of about $27,000.
Things aren't any better in big-box land. I don't even remember when these two places opened, if they did. They're behind the Value Village off Meridian near Bellis Fair mall, a can't miss location two years ago. Now it's an asphalt wasteland.
Hey, Baby, it's the 3rd of July
Every year Sudden Valley puts on a fireworks display. For some reason it was scheduled for Saturday night, the 3rd, this year. Very weird, considering that most people with jobs most likely had Monday the 5th off, and the kids could sleep in.
It turns out that a Sudden Valley family has been sponsoring the fireworks display for the last couple of years, and they couldn't stay for Sunday (maybe they're from Canada). So the association happily set the fireworks off on Saturday. Here are some shots.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)