The old watch is dead.

A moment of mourning...

I finally got the back panel off of my old watch.  I tested that battery with my multimeter, and it seemed fine (2.9 volts), so I continued taking it apart.  There didn't seem to be any corrosion on the inside of the watch (as I had feared), but when I tried unscrewing the analog adjustment arm it broke right off.  To make matters worse, I think I found out why it hadn't been working - the hands fell of when I loosened the case, so I think the reason it wasn't keeping time was because the hands were off of the spindle.  I tried putting them back on, but my less-than-ample jewelery tools bent the hands, ensuring that they would catch on each other even if it was fixed.  The only thing to come out of this was the CR2016 battery, which I put back into my Casio Data Bank watch.  The SRAM still had the phone numbers of all the people from the last time it had a working battery (a little over a year ago).  I updated the phone numbers and I think that I'll put it back into my rotation, making this my longest lived watch (I gave my original Data Bank to my friend Brian who replaced the guts).

Curses!

I recently read this article on MSN about the decline of cursive writing in our schools, and I have to say, I don't see what the big deal is.  If you're too young to remember when cursive writing was synonymous with penmanship, then consider yourself lucky.

I understand that there is a certain romanticism associated with cursive writing, but it's not like learning to write cursive is like learning a whole new language, just a different font.  If done correctly, one's result is a thing of beauty that brings to mind poetry, love letters, and an eighteenth century aesthetic.  If done incorrectly, as by 99.999% of the English speaking world, you get a completely unreadable mess of scribbles that brings to mind memories of forged truancy notes and accidentally amputated limbs (because surgeons couldn't read the doctor's writing, see?  Forget it.).

Cursive writing's sweeping design is meant to be swifter and more flowing than standard printed text, but one also needs to realize that this was developed in a time when people of all creeds used quills and inkwells instead of pencils and pens - let alone computers and cell phones - to write their notes because it was easier to drag an ink-sodden feather or nib across a page than letting the ink splatter and drip all over it.  I am more amazed that this romantic fallacy has endured beyond the age of the typewriter let alone into the computer age.

Parents concerned about their child not being forced to use cursive writing for everything need to realize that they are being stupid; the only reason you want your kids to learn it is because you were forced to learn it all those years ago.  I'm sure that there's more than a few of us out there that remember the pointless drills, the countless hours of criticism about the shape and form of our cursive letters simply because we don't possess the natural coordination to do it properly.  Also, try getting the proper instruction when you're left-handed in a class where everyone but you and maybe one other student is right-handed.  That's enough to give me nightmares.  Just because you were made to suffer an outdated practice does not entitle you to force it upon your child.  Grow a brain and come to your senses.

I'm not even sure that cursive works as a time saver as opposed to print anyway.  A few of my friends and I are every bit as capable of writing standard as fast and messy as cursive.  It really makes no difference which one we use, though I know a few younger people who didn't waste their youth on this pointless exercise and who are now far more capable typists than my high-school educated butt (guess who is more marketable in today's dwindling job bank).

In conclusion, if you want to expose children to this pointless "skill," then do so only briefly at an early age, and maybe set up calligraphy clubs for the kids that want to continue with it, but don't force it on the rest of them just because you're bitter that you had to learn it.

New watch

Here I go, spending money needlessly again.  Well, sort of needlessly.

Over the past two weeks I have had no less than three strangers comment on how nice my watch is.  Those individuals really have no idea just how wrong they are.

It's not that it's a bad watch; this has been the best non-calculator watch I've ever had.  I didn't pay much money for it, as I recall it was only about $17 when I purchased it from Sears a few years ago, and it was more than worth it at the time, with both analog and digital functions, a stop watch, timer, back-light and movable bezel.  In fact, this watch might still be in use this very moment if I hadn't insisted on wearing it to my job at Home Depot and subsequent sh** jobs of the past few years.  This unreasonable wear and tear has caused some functional and visible blemishes.

The first real problem I had with the device was when the back-light button fell off.  Oddly enough, this was only a marginal annoyance, as the glow-in-the-dark hands made reading it in intermittently lighted conditions easy.

Ever since the mid-nineties, I prefer my watches to have metal bands, as the rubber plastic of every watch I've ever owned cracks and falls apart after a few months of wear, and replacing the things wasn't always easy.  With a metal band, usually the case will crack before the band wears out... unless you start losing the pins that hold the band together.  Most pricier watches have removable links in a metal band, but as I established early on I didn't pay much for this one, so it might come as little surprise that I lost a critical pin for the band's clasp earlier this year.  Being the resourceful chap I am, I simply substituted a small paper clip for the wayward pin.

While the paper clip does a fine job of holding the band together, it does a pretty bad job of not chafing my wrist with its rusty painfulness.

So late last week, my watch's analog hands began slowing down disproportionately to the time on the digital face.  I had to wonder whether it was because that the battery was dying or if the case's extreme corrosion had finally crept into the watch's innards.

I decided to open up the watch and see about replacing the battery.  I got my jeweler's screwdrivers out only to find that the case had no screws - this isn't unusual, as this isn't a diver's watch and therefore it is just a friction back.  Unfortunately, the corrosion has gotten so bad that I can't get the back panel off.  I've been trying for days to no avail.  My only option then was to take it to one of the battery replacement places at the mall.  My last experience with these establishments was when my friend Seth took the watch that I gave him there and they charged him a king's ransom for a simple battery replacement ($11+).  So my options were to take it there to see if they could replace the battery (if that was the problem) and if not I would still have to pay them and learn to live without a functioning watch, and/or just use my cell phone to tell time (it's more accurate anyway).

I opted instead to invest $17 in a new watch at Sears (they were on sale).  Even though they had the same model as the one I was replacing, I decided to go with a different one... and the buyer's remorse has kicked in.  I didn't really need the watch (as mentioned before, I could just use my cell phone), but I'm so used to having that metal band on my wrist I was actually getting anxious without it being there.  Maybe I have a touch of OCD, but I needed to replace it and all of my old watches are either childish or broken.

The replacement is slightly larger, a much darker chrome finish, a black movable bezel (with better numeration around) and a fully LCD panel behind the analog hands.  The back light button is much sturdier than my old watch's and the luminous display is much cooler looking.  It isn't without its flaws, though.  There is no countdown timer, which was an often-used feature on the old one, and if I had realized that it was missing it in the store it would probably still be there, though the bezel makes it superfluous.  It also doesn't have the luminescent hands (though oddly enough it does have luminescent hour marks), which makes it difficult to read in low light, but if the back light continues to function it isn't that big of a deal.  It's certainly a better looking watch than the old one, and if I can stay away from exposing it to the kind of abuse that a decent watch shouldn't be exposed to (grout, girders, et al) it will probably last longer.

I'll still try to get the other one open.  Anyone know of any good corrosion cures that don't involve spraying liquid on or submerging the very-not-waterproof watch?

Hellth-care

What the hell is wrong with people that are against health-care reform?

For a moment, let's ignore the fact that like me, millions of Americans don't have health insurance because they are either unemployed or cannot afford it.  Let's ignore the fact that when these people are struck with a condition that would have been cheap to treat in early stages they are forced to clog our emergency rooms because their condition's gotten so bad they can't ignore it any longer.

I am talking about the people who are saying that people should still have a choice in their health-care and that the government should stay out of it.

First: nobody's saying that you need to give up your HMO.  That is not what the plan is for.  The plan is to ease the burden on the lower and middle class that health-care has become to the millions of people who can't afford it.  If you want to keep your current plan, go ahead.

Second: You don't have a choice in your coverage - your insurance company does! They tell you who they're willing to reimburse, how much they're willing to pay, and if they feel it's better to take your money for years and then drop you when you finally need that coverage, they will.

Third: In caps, for emphasis, THE GOVERNMENT ALREADY RUNS MEDICARE!  Quit trying to scare old people into thinking that the government (who already gives them insurance) that they're going to take it away when the reality is that it isn't going to change their coverage outside of making it available to more people.

What the hell is with this country's priorities?  I didn't see protests of this scale when former president George Dumbass Bush invaded a sovereign country under the flimsy (at best) premise that the dictator that our government helped to install was working with fundamentally different philosophical religious fanatics who there had been no prior relational evidence to hurt our country and not because Dick Cheney had blue-balls from Operation Desert Storm.

If you're going to protest, at least do some research beforehand.  Don't just do it because you live in a red state.

Okay, okay, okay.

Yes, my sister had a baby last week.

Yes, he's really cute.

Yes, I'm really happy for Dan and Rita.

His name is Drake Liam Benson.

I didn't feel it was my place to tell everyone, so if you want to see pictures you'll have to seek out Rita for them.

Ignorance, mine.

As I was walking back to my apartment from downtown with the roll of quarters that I needed to start my ever-mounting pile of laundry, I noticed that there was a lot of police blockage throughout the city.  Intersections in the vicinity of the David L. Lawrence Convention Center were closed off for no apparent reason, and there were National Guard and Pittsburgh Police boats in the Allegheny River.  I had to wonder what was going on, as the G20 summit doesn't start until September 24th, and the city's current "Spit-shine Pittsburgh" campaign (wherein downtown areas that homeless and low-income people usually gather are closed and torn up supposedly for improvements but more probably so that the G20 chairs don't see the seedier side of our economically depressed town) seems focused on our already recently renovated parks and historic districts. 

It turns out that the police were there because the president of these United States was speaking at the convention center for the AFL-CIO convention.  I watch the news when I can and was understandably quite surprised that this missed my notice.  I think that it is noteworthy though, that during the MLB All-Stars game the Coast Guard boats had rather large chain-fed machine guns on their decks, but a visit from the POTUS didn't seem to warrant as much intimidation.

Watching parts of Obama's speech on the news later, I do agree with him to some degree:  the middle class is better off with unions in place.  Let us not forget though, that the reasons that unions worked originally is because they took a bat and fists approach to abuses of the workers (they actually physically threatened management).  As soon as unions became "legitimate" businesses, the people at the top refocused their legally questionable methods from management to the workers they claimed to protect, often taking much and giving back very little.  Unions don't work when the purpose of their existence switches from protecting workers rights to keeping the union going.  These should not be mutually exclusive ideals.

I think that one point everyone can agree with the president is in saying that Kanye West is indeed a jackass.

Photos from home

I apologize for the graininess of these pictures. Blogger seems intent on shrinking my seven mega-pixel images too small, then not re-sampling them when I try to enlarge them.



I went back to my hometown of Warren, Pennsylvania today for a medical reasons (not mine). While there I decided to snap some photos using various settings on my camera. It's not an expensive piece of equipment, but it is by far the best camera that I've ever owned. I decided to document not a day in my life, but just random views of a town that you would miss if you were flying over, or driving really fast through.

The city of Warren is located in Warren county on the shores of the Allegheny River. Oddly enough this is the same river that I now live near in Pittsburgh, but that's not important now. It is a Victorian-era town that had its boom in oil, lumber, and industry, though much of that wealth has fled.


I began my day at Warren General Hospital, and then made my way over the river and across town to Liberty Street. In my lifetime this was once the unquestioned retail center of the county, with department stores for every taste and income. Now I see it being slowly eaten away by the nerve center of Northwest Savings Banks. While it is nice to see that someone is making use of the various neglected buildings and abandoned riverfront parking lots, it is a private setting, and only those who have business there are welcome. Gone are the sidewalk teller windows, Levinson Brothers department store... Kresge's store with its bargain lunch counter. The Viking ship that adorned the H.K. Wendelboe's building an ever-present reminder of the people and wealth the city once had, the dragon's eyes constantly searching for new customers that will never come.


Having time to think about it made me remember days of my youth perhaps more fondly than they were. Twenty or so years ago a boy of twelve could walk down the streets of this town and have adventures, go window shopping, browse the book stores and never feel anything but that this city was alive and that the future was bright.

From here I collected my thoughts and headed to the top of the hill to Washington Park. It wasn't too difficult, although the road is one of those oily country roads that rural Appalachians know all too well. Narrow, curvy, and steep as it is, pedestrian traffic is not welcome but allowed all the same. The trees were green and full of precious life, thankful for both the previous day's rain and the present day's delicious sun. Unfortunately, the trees aren't the road's only inhabitants, and the goldenrod plants were as invasive and aggressive as ever. As I have always lived in Pennsylvania the goldenrod is both a familiar and frequent sight, which makes it my misfortune to be allergic to it. I could smell the stink of its pollen while making my trek, but I had prepared for this with come allergy medication, and the plant's metaphoric teeth had been pulled. The only thing that I didn't prepare for this day was the insects, which were legion in the shade of the trees.

I finally made it to Washington Park, and enjoyed the view for awhile, snapping some quick pictures of the overlook. There was a bit more haze than I would have liked, and because my camera can't use filters or interchangeable lenses the backgrounds look a bit more washed out than I had expected.




Still, as photos lacking retouches, the greens are quite vibrant.

From that point the insects began to outweigh my desire to film without a telephoto lens and I began the crawl back to town. Once back to my car I traveled to the Warren Mall -- not to shop, but for more pictures.



I wish that I could say that the panorama photos that I took came out even half-decently, but as you can see in the above picture that anything with lines will show seams when you capture it. Unfortunately moving the camera rather than rotating it doesn't offer a much better effect because the foreground will still look inconsistent.

Entering the mall, from the main entrance, you are greeted with artwork depicting derricks pumping the oil that made Warren great.


Anyone visiting Warren for the first time will notice that our shopping mall is in the winter years of its life. While the city does have a Wal-mart now, the superstore actually has very little to do with the mall's decline. In 1980 the mall opened its doors to shoppers. There was a time when New York state (a scant ten miles away from the mall) had sales tax on all goods and services, while Pennsylvania didn't require sales tax on food or clothing, and had a lower sales tax overall. This changed at the end of the eighties, and New Yorkers who had once flocked to Warren for duty-free goods suddenly had little reason to come here. The mall still had a selection of stores and was very profitable even then, but the "boom" was over. Later still the stores began dropping off and staying unoccupied, for a number of reasons.



My postulation on why the Warren Mall, and in fact most shopping malls across the country are failing is a bit more complicated: technology. Shopping malls are strange beasts. While being one of the biggest temples of consumerism know to man they are also very communal. Heated against the cold, cooled in defiance of the heat they are meant to be gathering places. In the early days, shopping malls had a plethora stores, each specialized to a different market. There were toy stores, smoke shops, booksellers, pretzel vendors, orange-flavored drink dealers, video game arcades, movie stores, record stores, and novelty stores. When you lived in the middle of nowhere in the winter, it was a small trifle to ask your parents to drop you off at the mall with your friends. In its warmth, you could spend hours buying trading cards, trying to beat a video game, enjoying a movie at the theater, or having a warm cookie or pretzel while you looked at the latest Nintendo games and wondered aloud if it was as good as it sounded. Once, even the back of the mall would have cars parked in it.


One day though, came a thing called the internet. Suddenly you could look up reviews of products online, no more need to window shop... PROGRESS!


Now comes a 3D accelerator for your computer, followed by a shiny new disc-based video game system -- it's better than the arcade... PROGRESS!


They sell the big pretzels in the supermarket now, and you're sick of them... PROGRESS!


Hey, you have chat programs and cell phones that keep you in constant contact with your friends day and night, no need to meet at the mall with its aging video arcade, closing toy stores, and more expensive pretzels, we'll just chat right now... PROGRESS!


As tech evolved, the need for these "social shopping" places waned, and focus instead shifted to spaces where everything was packed haphazardly under one roof. Business here has dried up like one of the building's many fountains.


I cannot remember the last time when I saw any water in these.

One of the Warren Mall's last casualties was the Waldenbooks.


I spent many hours here in the entirety of my life; my mother bought me Star Wars picture books in my youth, this was one of my regular stops for comic books in middle school, and from high school and beyond the only place I could go to purchase my very own copies of classics and nonfiction, as from that point on it was the city's sole purveyor of books (but only if you don't count the romance novel exchange downtown). It's gone now in the wake of Amazon.com and heartland America's declining readership, but it will not be forgotten.

To the critics who might see the last half of my essay as nostalgia and glorification of rampant consumerism, I humbly admit that at least on the surface it would seem so. Though I can be materialistic and shallow, this place is dear to me not for what I purchased from within its walls, but for those scant hours that those who I called my friends would celebrate the end of a long week of school with pizza, pretzels, and laughter.