Long Weekend Indeed

So yeah. A very long weekend.

Started Thursday. Given the governor's stay at home order, I opted to do just that. I probably should have gone in to work, but there was enough darting about not really accomplishing all that much Wednesday it seemed fruitless.

Now tomorrow, no work. We're out until at least April 20. And blessed we are, it's with pay. That comes thanks to having a job connected with the government. And I'm trying not to bandy it about, as there's a little fever pitch in the community about others losing their jobs. Of course it's on my blog, which no one reads.

Some things, we're trying to get back to normal. We haven't held a Scout meeting yet, but we did do a committee meeting online, followed by boards of review for two new First Class Scouts. Tomorrow, we're planning our first virtual troop meeting.

The kids are starting online school April 1.

From what I hear, we have only two cases of Covid-19 in Bonneville County, but they're seeing community spread in the Boise area and in Blaine County.

The stay at home order has been odd. It's resulted in lines at stores -- they want to keep the number of people inside stores limited, to aid in distancing. I have to go to Home Depot tomorrow morning to get some backer board for a tile project, so we'll see how that goes.

On to brighter news. The reason I need the backer board is this:

We've had some loose tiles in the bathroom for a few years now. A few weeks ago we bought the tile to re-do the shower stall, and last weekend I started on the demolition. There's a lot more mold under there than I anticipated, but not all that much water damage to speak of. So the tile and drywall are coming out and the backer board is going in. We're also getting new fixtures for the shower, which is good, since the old ones are just worn out. As I'm not at work this next week, this'll give me something to do.

Then on to the fence. And the siding. Which isn't all that appealing, but you know, it needs to be done. And as long as I've got the time. . .

So I'm not feeling completely gloomy about the virus. It's a challenge, to be sure. But not overwhelming.

I have faith things will be fine. And I'm not just talking about the bathroom.

Big Brother, Watching Your Social Distancing

So far this week, it looks like Coronavirus is taking aim at three things:

1. The British royal family, with Prince Charles announcing a positive diagnosis
2. Easter, with egg prices in the United States soaring and hoarders gobbling up the surplus egg supply that was being built up for Donald Trump’s Easter.
3. Local news.
4. Your privacy.

And maybe that last one is a bit overblown.

But here’s this company, Unacast, using GPS data from cell phones to grade us, county by county, on whether we’re doing the social distancing we should.

I say company, but I’m not sure who these dudebros from Norway are.

Here’s their privacy statement:

The Social Distancing Scoreboard and other tools being developed for the Covid-19 Toolkit do not identify any individual person, device, or household. However to calculate the actual underlying social indexing score we combine tens of millions of anonymous mobile phones and their interactions with each other each day - and then extrapolate the results to the population level. As a company that originated in Norway we put privacy front and center and believe it to be an individual right, and since we operate on both sides of the Atlantic, we have been operating within the GDPR guidelines since May 2018 and this year also adopted the CCPA guidelines for the whole of the US (not only California).

But [enter the wormy med student from “Young Frankenstein”] isn’t it true they could they identify individuals via cellphone? Probably, given the technology available. We’re seeing such tracking in China, Taiwan, and Hong Kong, and probably other places too.

Temporary measures, you say.

Maybe.

But we are in the era of paranoid/populist governments, where such temporary measures could become the norm, you know.

I know this sounds paranoid. And I would have to say if someone official wanted to use my phone GPS to track my whereabouts and movements, my inherent Dutch stubbornness would be to tell them to pound sand. And I’d leave my phone home.

Also, part of me looks at their county-by-county data and things, well, this is kinda like a heat map for distance as well as population. Out west, where I live, things are further apart than in other areas of the country. And looking at Alaska, where they’re being praised for little movements in their boroughs or census areas, I’ll wager population is sparse for the most part (or concentrated, such as in Anchorage) so the data from this month might not look all that different from the data from this time last year.

There are just a lot of questions here, even setting privacy aside.

I do not confess to be a genius. My analysis here is totally by the seat of my pants. But I’d like to ask these dudebros some questions.

Another Virus Update

So the big boss just walked by, asked how we’re doing. A few cubicles down, he said something about “tuning in at 9:30,” but I wasn’t fully listening.

Nine-thirty has come and gone. Don’t know what’s going on. I’m not missing a meeting, because we’re not supposed to be having any in-person.

Here’s what else is going on in our increasingly Covid-19 world:

1. School is now out through April 20, with other things like ISAT testing and senior projects off the list. That last one has my daughter ecstatic.

2. We now have until July 15 to file and pay federal and state taxes. Federal taxes are already filed, and we’re hoping to see that refund soon so we can apply it to the state taxes. Getting that delay is helpful.

3. Lexie earned her Geocaching merit badge on Sunday. In other Scouting news, we held a board of review for two other scouts late last week via Zoom, so they both have earned their First Class rank. We need to do more for those Scouts as we’re not able to meet face-to-face.

4. Work goes on, the mysterious tuning-in notwithstanding.

I’ll update as things go on.

UPDATE: Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Rest Well, Mr. Uderzo

With the passing of Albert Uderzo, I’ll pause and mourn.

Uderzo and Asterix and Obelix writer Rene Goscinny helped me learn French. Reading their comic books, alongside the Book of Mormon in French as I served my two-year mission in France, is what got me through trying to wrap my head around another language.

They helped me have a tiny window into French culture, taught me idioms and really stretched my brain as I went from comic book to dictionary to real-life situation trying to parse French but not sound too much like a cartoon character (ironically).

Asterix.com has a fitting tribute to the artist today, reproduced here because I have no idea how long it’ll be there.

Other French influencers include, of course, Rene Goscinny, the fellow who wrote many of Asterix and Obelix’s adventures and who passed away in 1977.

And the translations. I read JRR Tolkein’s “The Hobbit” in French, in both novel and comic book form, to help me hone my language skills.

But it’s Asterix and Obelix who were the most help.

Thanks, fellas.

"Take it Penny!"

So apparently the world will continue circling the drain to Hell.

Stock markets plunging.

Virus spreading.

Kids out of school and going bonkers and such.

Earthquake this morning near Salt Lake that shook Moroni’s trumpet right out of his hands atop the Salt Lake Temple.

(Photos yoinked from the Deseret News.)

I’m still at work, where I’m not able to cajole and deflect the bored kids. I’m going to have to start working in town, I think, in order to be more present at home.

And my online students, oh the stress they’re having. Many of them in lockdown due to the virus. Or doing that and living through the earthquake.

The world is in tumult, as has been foretold:

And great earthquakes shall be in divers places, and famines, and pestilences; and fearful sights and great signs shall there be from heaven. (Luke 21:11)

And yet, at the center, I feel calm.

Things have been bleak before.



The sun still shines. The rain still falls. The birds sing and my weenie dogs are happy to see me when I get home.

Hermit of Iapetus, Virus Survivor?

How bleak would it be if the Hermit of Iapetus, and various other stragglers in the outer solar system, were the only ones to survive a virus outbreak in the inner solar system?

I know. Topical and cliché. It’s probably been done a thousand times before. Also sure there are a thousand monkeys pounding away at a thousand typewriters right now on the NEXT BIG CORONAVIRUS BLOCKBUSTER NOVEL, so by the time I got mine out on the street seventy thousand others will have gone live in that space.

And the more I think of it, the more I like the idea that the Hermit is on Iapetus just because he wanted to be. And because he’s probably a little bit crazy. Not enough pathos, I’m sure, but I still like the idea.

Most novels want to focus on the Big Idea. The Hermit of Iapetus, in its current form, does not. It’s just about a crazy dude who decided to go live on one of Saturn’s moons. Is that compelling enough? I don’t know. I haven’t shown it to anyone as Doleful Creatures, a Bigger Idea novel, has occupied my brain space, if not my writing desk.

One coronavirus bright spot: If it comes to social distancing with school and work closed (school, thus far for our kids, is staying in, but letting out Thursday, two days earlier than planned for Spring Break; BYUI is shut for the next few days as preparations go underway to take what classes can be online into that online space) maybe I could get working on the novel again. Or the chores around the house, now that winter is finally dying. Maybe both. Might even get new concrete underneath the master bathtub tonight as I prepare to re-tile everything.

A Message of Hope

To quote Linus from the Charlie Brown Christmas special: "Fear not. [Drops blanket.]"

Coronavirus Hunkering

Since my previous coronavirus post, things, as they say, have gotten real. Yo.

Here are a few things that have happened:

1. Idaho now has one -- count 'em, one -- confirmed coronavirus patient, apparently a woman from Boise who went to a business conference in New York and brought it home as a souvenir.

2. Church, at least for the time being, is off. As in we're doing church at home. Counting attendance is going to be a heck of a lot easier to do for the next little while.

3. BYUI has cancelled in-person classes for a week while teachers gear up to teach their courses online. Online classes will carry on, though we've been advised to show lots of empathy for our students who may be facing challenges at home.

4.Neighboring states have cancelled school. It's my assumption that for us, it's only a matter of time before that happens.

5. Fluor Idaho has let us know they're aware of the situation and are watching things closely.

6. There's still no toilet paper to be found, but I did buy 48 cans of Diet Pepsi (not because I'm panicking, but because at 21 cents a can, it was a killer deal).

7. Liam texted us from the Bishop's Storehouse last night, saying the home storage side was almost sold out. He was then sent home early.

8. We have unconfirmed rumors that people traveled from Utah all the way to the Rigby Broulim's to stock up, though I have my doubts that actually happened. Probably a lot of BYUI students with Utah plates.

9. The stock market, well, it's very unhappy. I looked at our latest statement, and yeah, I won't make that mistake again.

10. We're doing okay. Lexie is having friends over. Isaac is on a Scout campout. Liam is working at the temple where it's likely to be quiet, as only live ordinances are being allowed. I'm blogging, Michelle is doing her homework, and the dogs are sitting on my feet making me sweaty. And I cleaned part of the garage out.

11. We did cancel our troop swimming activity tomorrow, so much the pity.

So we're doing okay. Further updates as events warrant.

Getting Salty

It’s the lament commonly heard throughout Studentland: “Why didn’t they teach us THIS in school?” when they stumble across some new and vitally-needed information.

Three things to say:

1. Don’t stop learning, ever.
2. Don’t depend solely on others for learning.
3. What “needs” to be learned is fractal in nature; the deeper one delves, the level of detail scarcely changes.

I say this as I read Mark Kurlansky’s “Salt: A World History.”

It is what it says it is – it traces the history of salt through the first written records to where I am now, namely the scarcity of salt being a factor that hindered the Confederate States during the American Civil War.

Now had this book been taught in high school, where the lack of learning is lamented by those who discover new and vital knowledge once they leave, questions would arise: Why focus on salt? What about the broader scope of history? They must learn the broadest of things between Neanderthals and the Moon Landing. Salt is too much detail, too much in the weeds (thus why “everything” or “insert unlearned thing here” can’t be taught in school; there’s simply too much to learn.

But if you want to know about salt, read Kurlansky’s book. He’ll teach you more than you ever wanted to know about the subject.

A few things I’ve learned:

Venice, Italy, thrived on the salt trade. And was built on sandbars 25 miles from the coast. So if the city’s sinking now, it might be because it’s built on landfill in a lagoon more than the fact that the sea levels are rising.

Vikings left off most of their raiding when they began their own salt works and started selling salted cod in Europe.

Salt was vital to the westward expansion of the United States.

Salt began to lose its importance as a food preservative when canning and bottling were developed – which brought industrial disruption. Per Kurlansky:

In 1830, a canning plant was built in la Turalle [France] the sardine fishing town across the opening of the Guerance swamp from Le Croisic. The plant flourished, and gradually most of the area’s salt fish business collapsed, unable to compete with canned products. In time, much of the French Atlantic salt fish industry disappeared.; A similar fate befell much of the salted herring industry to the north and anchovy industry to the south.

The collapse was furthered a hundred years later(!) by the development of mass fast freezing techniques by Clarence Birdseye in 1925 and the development of railroad networks and market systems that sped up the distribution of fresh food.

Disruption before the age of tech disruptors. I *LOVE* finding these things out.

And this is broadly learned yet – Kurlansky tells an exhaustive salty tale.

[Cue Panic Music]

The world, or at least the world as framed through national media in the United States, is gripped by panic.

Mad maybe panic isn’t the right word. Others come to mind: Hysteria. Opportunism. Whataboutism and Itoldyousoitis.

All linked to coronavirus, of course, that little itty-bitty not-quite-alive thing that, while serious from a health standpoint, has been exploded to Gaussian proporitions

And toilet paper. Lots and lots of toilet paper being bought and hoarded because the general public must be found to be DOING SOMETHING to address the panic.

Cue the music:



Of course, the best way to battle coronavirus – the best way to be found to be DOING SOMETHING – is to wash hands, to stay home if you’re sick, and to watch those in vulnerable populations for any sign of illness or complication. You know, the standard advice for any illness, SCARY CORONAVIRUS or not.

So amid all the calm advice, the panic, and the MOAR TOILET PAPER blips out there, there is, of course, increased ridiculousness.

Slate.com wants you to watch a Hollywoodized version of events, namely 2011’s “Contagion,” which of course will lead into the inevitable politicizing of the virus: Trump can’t handle it while Obama or a boatload of babies could clearly do better.

The Atlantic suggests combating coronavirus with money. Not money for research, or medical equipment. Just money. Free money to everyone.

They also suggest cancelling everything.

Everything?

Everything.

Twitter was ablaze with fury at the Trumps: At Meliana for posing for pictures in a hard had ostensibly supervising the construction of a tennis complex at the White House, because ALL CONTSTRUCTION AND RECREATION BY ANYONE ASSOCIATED WITH THE BAD ORANGE MAN must STOP and all must instead board a helicopter to frown at areas of the nation impacted by coronavirus. And Trump himself must not golf at a time like this, particularly when the Democrats are pulling all of their pet programs out of mothballs and spray-paining CORONAVIRUS FIX on them because, hey, they can’t hoard toilet paper so must be seen as DOING SOMETHING by those who are looking inside the beltway for answers.

Looking inside the beltway for answers is akin to going to the bus terminal at 2 am and expecting to see normal things there.

I’m not even going to look at what Russia Today has to say on the topic, because HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

At least Buzzfeed, of all places, is offering statistics rather than scaremongering, at least at this link.

Do I have my head in the sand?

Maybe a tiny bit. But I did get my flu shot this year. The CDC says of 6.4 million US residents sick with the flu between October and the end of 2019, about 55,000 were hospitalized and 2,900 died. That’s not in the news. But it’s not new and scary and making people buy MOAR TOILET PAPER, so, you know.

Maybe this coronavirus strain will be as scary as it sounds. But I’m tired of the hype.*

Total US deaths as of today: 26.

What’s the best thing we could do?

Well, wind the clock back 20 or 30 years or so and figure out who thought a demanding 24-hour news cycle was a good thing.

Or turn off the TV and wander away from the Internet.

Not that we need a news blackout. But one small, informative dose daily. Or only when events warrant. The constant yammering is harmful to mental health.

And get that cone off your head.

*This will be ironic in a year if I’m dead of coronavirus, but I’m not counting on it.

Book Review: A Dog’s Purpose

Synopsis: Cute, maudlin, well-told. But also, it’s been done:



This isn’t to say that Bruce Cameron isn’t a good writer or storyteller. He gives a distinct voice to the reincarnated pup in this novel – and I’m a sucker for anthropomorphism.

But it is, truth be told, Garfield’s Nine Lives, with Dogs.

It also appears to be a cottage industry, if the website is to be believed. Good for Cameron et al being able to capitalize.

I’m not cynical enough to say my heartstrings weren’t tugged. And I’m not surprised at the book’s (or subsequent movie’s) popularity, given the market for maudlin in the United States. But maybe part of me is a little disappointed to think a dog’s purpose is “to save,” though I am pleased with the simplicity of it. “To be” might be even simpler, but there’s less of a lesson to be swung with that, I suppose.

And yeah (spoilers) I knew before the book brought him there that the dog was going to end up with Ethan again, and that the dog was going to see Ethan die.

And though it sounds cruel, maybe part of me wanted the stories where the dog was in a bad situation to last a bit longer. We already tend to look at dogs through rose-colored glasses, so maybe seeing the unpleasantness dogs go through would have made for a deeper story, though probably one that would not have sold as well or been as filmable (though Pixar’s Kitbull leapt into that territory and did well with its storytelling).



You’ll see in the sidebar, however, I’ve got another Cameron book in the wings. I’ll give it a go. But probably won’t delve further into the “Dog’s Purpose” universe. One book is enough.

Herp and Derp

Over the weekend, I posted the following Facebook memory:

It rang true when I first read the quote in 2018, and it’s as applicable today.

Also as applicable: Journalism professionals, don’t take the easy route.* If you don’t know something, say so. While speculation fills word count and air time, readers and viewers would better be served by a shrug of the shoulders. It’s okay not to know.

Case in point: This story from Quillette.

In brief, Scandinavian Airlines apparently put out a commercial meant to communicate the point that getting to know the world outside of one’s own borders is preferable to blind nationalism. Or something like that. But the message in the ad was so terribly presented and researched, it was picked apart online by critics of just about every stripe.

The company and some media reactions?

The day after the ad was released, the airline wrote in a press statement that it was investigating a suspected “attack” on social media – a theory which was uncritically picked up by leading international outlets. “When analyzing the pattern and volume of reactions we have reason to suspect an online attack and that the campaign has been hijacked,” SAS wrote in its statement.

Some media immediately began speculating on possible Russian involvement, a theory which the company did nothing to deny. Reuters claimed that the ad was simply “ myths about Scandinavia,” yet had nevertheless become “victim of an online hate campaign, particularly form nationalist and right-wing groups.”

Which sounds right, except for one thing: It wasn’t.

[E]xperts have rejected the idea that the company was victim of a coordinated attack, either particularly by “right-wing groups,” or by Russia. And a number of mainstream Scandinavian media outlets and commentators had been among the most vocal critics.

But by evoking existing fears of right-wing extremism, online hate campaigns, and real threats to national security, the company was able to deflect basic journalistic scrutiny.

The company cried wolf, as the author says. And international outlets – where the rest of the world would source their news – failed at their job by parroting the company’s line, rather than looking to see if the claims of derpism were true.

Journalists, don’t respond to derpism with herpisms of your own. Readers are still going to get things wrong and fly off the handle and trot out any of their own weird little pet theories. But that is not your job, journalists. Your job is to get it right. Find out what’s going on. Don’t speculate. And if you don’t know, in the end, say that.

Credibility, I know from personal experience, is expensive to buy. And no matter how credible you may be on many an issue, throw your credibility away enough times and you can’t buy it back. And the critics are always circling. Some with their own herp and derp, to be sure. Don’t respond in kind.

*As a reformed journalist, I confess to taking the easy route many times. Trust me, it’s not the way to go.

And STOP . . . the Devil!

This is what our youngest (age 15) created in church today. He had to add "of Satan" at the bottom, because this was supposed to be a sign about, uh, I forget. Something churchy.

Reminded me of this: