Back in college, I used to go to hockey games with some frequency. I wasn't much of a hockey fan but was unable to turn down free entertainment. Games were exciting but the occasional check was the extent of the violence that I saw.
College hockey was a child's tea party compared to the American Hockey League (AHL) game that we recently attended. Several minutes into the first period, two players got a little too close to each other and exchanged words. I waited for the refs to get in the middle, as they do in every other sport--but they made no effort to interfere. Moments later, gloves and helmets were thrown to the ice, and then the fisticuffs began!
The crowd jumped to their feet, clearly excited at this development. They shouted and demanded that the young men seek vengeance for the slight that had occurred.
I didn't hear the sentiment phrased quite like that; the overwhelming chorus came from the party of blood-thirsty seven-year-olds in front of us shouting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"
I wondered if the fight was just for show, but upon closer inspection, I determined that the players were throwing real punches! I've never been in a fist fight, but their ferocity looked like it would hurt.
The punching continued until the gentlemen fell upon the ice, and then the referees interfered and stopped the fight. I assumed that everyone had got the excitement out of their system and that play would continue as usual.
Play continued, but the fighting was not over. There were several more fights and many more near-fights throughout the rest of the game. The penalty boxes got plenty of use.
During the calm periods between the fights, I interrogated B about all of this fighting, which made me very uncomfortable. (I can't even handle fake movie violence.) My understanding is that fighting isn't allowed in college or the NHL but for some reason, it is encouraged in the AHL. This policy discrepancy doesn't make any sense to me, but so it is.
If you go to a game, prepare yourself in advance.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Badly done, Toyota
I have always been a big fan of my Corolla and of the Toyota brand in general, but I am starting to question my fangirl status.
If you've been following the news, you can't have missed the news about the Toyota recalls due to a tendency to accelerate suddenly.
Moving forward, indeed.
As investigations mount, the news that's coming out is damaging. Scores of people have died--and the numbers keep growing as cases are reinvestigated. Others are sitting in prison because their out-of-control vehicles killed someone.
The news and the breadth of this recall makes you wonder how long Toyota knew about these problems before deciding to do something about them. Which ruined life was the tipping point for them?
My car is not included in the recall, but I've come across reports of people who experienced the sudden-acceleration problem in other vehicles that are not included in the recall. If a company put finances before ethics and was willing to ignore a fatal problem like this one, isn't it conceivable that they would try to limit the financial fall-out by not recalling all of the vehicles that are actually affected?
I'd say it's possible.
As I drove home this evening, I wracked my brain trying to think of a time when my car accelerated suddenly and uncontrollably. My car has over 113,000 miles on her, and I've been in the car for most of them. I can't remember a time when she accelerated suddenly without my touching the gas.
But Toyota's reluctance to address this issue in a timely manner leaves me wondering about both the safety of my car and my loyalty toward the company. I used to trust that the company would do the right thing, but now I actively distrust them and assume that they are doing the wrong thing.
Toyota, you have a long way to go before you can count on me to buy another of your vehicles.
If you've been following the news, you can't have missed the news about the Toyota recalls due to a tendency to accelerate suddenly.
Moving forward, indeed.
As investigations mount, the news that's coming out is damaging. Scores of people have died--and the numbers keep growing as cases are reinvestigated. Others are sitting in prison because their out-of-control vehicles killed someone.
The news and the breadth of this recall makes you wonder how long Toyota knew about these problems before deciding to do something about them. Which ruined life was the tipping point for them?
My car is not included in the recall, but I've come across reports of people who experienced the sudden-acceleration problem in other vehicles that are not included in the recall. If a company put finances before ethics and was willing to ignore a fatal problem like this one, isn't it conceivable that they would try to limit the financial fall-out by not recalling all of the vehicles that are actually affected?
I'd say it's possible.
As I drove home this evening, I wracked my brain trying to think of a time when my car accelerated suddenly and uncontrollably. My car has over 113,000 miles on her, and I've been in the car for most of them. I can't remember a time when she accelerated suddenly without my touching the gas.
But Toyota's reluctance to address this issue in a timely manner leaves me wondering about both the safety of my car and my loyalty toward the company. I used to trust that the company would do the right thing, but now I actively distrust them and assume that they are doing the wrong thing.
Toyota, you have a long way to go before you can count on me to buy another of your vehicles.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Not much of an Olympic athlete
Like the rest of the world, I've been engrossed by the winter Olympics these past two weeks. While watching, I realized that when I was a child, the Olympics were my only "interaction" with people from different countries. The Olympics helped shape my expectations about people from around the world.
Now that I'm older, I know that not everyone from Belarus is a gymnast, not everyone from Russia is an ice skater, and not everyone from Germany is a skiier.
Or maybe everyone in Germany does ski, though I suspect there is someone there like me, living in a snowy clime and growing up on the ocean but having zero interest in snow sports and refusing to eat seafood.
Some of us like to defy expectations.
Do you ever watch competitions and wonder if you can do what the athletes are doing? As I watch, I try to figure out the sport that would best suit me.
Short-track speed skating, I learned, is out. The crowded racing conditions would be overwhelming. Plus those competitors appear to be on the shorter side. I think I would face a similar struggle in figure skating, especially partner skating. A six-foot-tall woman is likely not a male figure skater's first choice for a partner.
Long-track speed skating had some appeal, and competitors look to be a bit taller. I like that you get your own lane, and the race is based on your time and not on judges' scores. But I have practical concerns. I have enough problems as it is trying to buy pants. If I had the thighs of a speed skater--forget it! Perhaps all types of skating are out.
Skiing, then? I learned during my only foray into skiing that I don't like going fast. (This news is probably not a surprise to anyone.) Maybe cross-country skiing, then? Did anyone watch that race where the competitors who crossed the finish line immediately fell down in exhaustion?
I don't want to have to work that hard.
I guess the Oympics aren't for me. And that, along with the more obvious reason (lack of skill at all Olympic sports) is why I'm sitting and watching them from my couch rather than competing.
Now that I'm older, I know that not everyone from Belarus is a gymnast, not everyone from Russia is an ice skater, and not everyone from Germany is a skiier.
Or maybe everyone in Germany does ski, though I suspect there is someone there like me, living in a snowy clime and growing up on the ocean but having zero interest in snow sports and refusing to eat seafood.
Some of us like to defy expectations.
Do you ever watch competitions and wonder if you can do what the athletes are doing? As I watch, I try to figure out the sport that would best suit me.
Short-track speed skating, I learned, is out. The crowded racing conditions would be overwhelming. Plus those competitors appear to be on the shorter side. I think I would face a similar struggle in figure skating, especially partner skating. A six-foot-tall woman is likely not a male figure skater's first choice for a partner.
Long-track speed skating had some appeal, and competitors look to be a bit taller. I like that you get your own lane, and the race is based on your time and not on judges' scores. But I have practical concerns. I have enough problems as it is trying to buy pants. If I had the thighs of a speed skater--forget it! Perhaps all types of skating are out.
Skiing, then? I learned during my only foray into skiing that I don't like going fast. (This news is probably not a surprise to anyone.) Maybe cross-country skiing, then? Did anyone watch that race where the competitors who crossed the finish line immediately fell down in exhaustion?
I don't want to have to work that hard.
I guess the Oympics aren't for me. And that, along with the more obvious reason (lack of skill at all Olympic sports) is why I'm sitting and watching them from my couch rather than competing.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Banff update
It's been a while since my last Banff update, but my lack of updates is not an indication that I have not been planning. (But then, you know me well enough to know that.)
Here's the process that I usually follow when planning a vacation:
Here's the process that I usually follow when planning a vacation:
- Identify all of the attractions that we would like to visit in each location. I usually copy the information from the guidebook and include location, cost, hours, and other helpful information. This task is finished.
- Based on our interests in each area, decide how many nights we will stay in each location. This task is also finished. I would much rather explore a location semi-thoroughly than visit many places and spend hours traveling each day, so most of our stays are 3- or 4-nighters.
- Research and book hotels. This task is also finished. I'm used to staying in larger hotels with lax cancellation policies, but not so with these smaller hotels. For instance, one hotel demands a $25 fee if we cancel at any time, even months in advance. I sympathize with smaller, independently owned hotels and understand that they can't stay in business if they allow last-minute cancellations, but I think that such a cancellation fee is as unjust as the so-called "resort fees" that you encounter at some of the bigger hotels.
- Scope out a rough itinerary for each day. I used to plan days more thoroughly (schedule and everything) but now leave more flexibility. (See--people can change!) I've planned all of the legs except Jasper.
- Research restaurants in each location. For this trip, I've been using the guidebook (Moon's Canadian Rockies) and tripadvisor. I didn't used to perform this step, but finding a restaurant is frequently a source of stress on vacation, and having a list from which to choose alleviates stress when hungry bellies are a-growling.
- Plan transportation. I have a rental car booked (through 2 companies actually) but I need to do further research. Some rental companies impose mileage restrictions if you leave the province from which you rent. We plan to visit both Alberta and Britich Columbia and are not interested in calculating miles to avoid fees.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
The Dunkin Donuts index
Like many New Englanders, I pass several Dunkin Donuts restaurants on my way to work each day, and I always look at their parking lots. I'm not a coffee drinker, and I can't think of the last time I ate a doughnut, but I think that the DD parking lot is a good indicator of overall economic health.
When we first moved here--nearly four years ago now--the DD parking lot was jammed in the mornings, even very early in the morning. The drive-through lane frequently backed up into the street, and every parking space in the lot was full. Times were good. However, times have since changed.
The thinning of the crowds happened gradually, but a year ago, you could find only a small handful of cars in the lot.
Around the same time, the crowds at our favorite mall were similarly sparse. Finding a rockstar parking space was never a problem. Waiting in line at the cash register? No way.
The economy wasn't prosperous, but there were signs of hope. Our nearby shopping center was always crowded on Friday and Saturday nights, and restaurants had wait times for tables. People were still spending money, but they were being choosier about how they spent it.
Now, a year later, signs of an improving economy are all around me. While it hasn't resumed its glory days from 3+ years ago, the DD parking lot has seen an increase in traffic. Our favorite mall, which was tediously busy before Christmas, kept up the trend into January, a promising sign. And while the people in the mall from a year ago had empty hands, today's shoppers are weighted down with their purchases.
Additionally, last weekend during our drive to the museum, we were on very crowded highways. A crowded highway on a weekend tells me that people have money to spend, since it's difficult to leave the house and not spend money (at least for me). We also passed a mall in which nearly every spot in the lot was occupied (by either a car or a giant snow pile--the snow wasn't there to spend money but the cars' drivers certainly were).
My unscientific observations tell me that the economy is in recovery.
When we first moved here--nearly four years ago now--the DD parking lot was jammed in the mornings, even very early in the morning. The drive-through lane frequently backed up into the street, and every parking space in the lot was full. Times were good. However, times have since changed.
The thinning of the crowds happened gradually, but a year ago, you could find only a small handful of cars in the lot.
Around the same time, the crowds at our favorite mall were similarly sparse. Finding a rockstar parking space was never a problem. Waiting in line at the cash register? No way.
The economy wasn't prosperous, but there were signs of hope. Our nearby shopping center was always crowded on Friday and Saturday nights, and restaurants had wait times for tables. People were still spending money, but they were being choosier about how they spent it.
Now, a year later, signs of an improving economy are all around me. While it hasn't resumed its glory days from 3+ years ago, the DD parking lot has seen an increase in traffic. Our favorite mall, which was tediously busy before Christmas, kept up the trend into January, a promising sign. And while the people in the mall from a year ago had empty hands, today's shoppers are weighted down with their purchases.
Additionally, last weekend during our drive to the museum, we were on very crowded highways. A crowded highway on a weekend tells me that people have money to spend, since it's difficult to leave the house and not spend money (at least for me). We also passed a mall in which nearly every spot in the lot was occupied (by either a car or a giant snow pile--the snow wasn't there to spend money but the cars' drivers certainly were).
My unscientific observations tell me that the economy is in recovery.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
What do the French Laundry and NASCAR have in common?
Around 12 years ago, Jeff Gordon appeared on the cover of TV Guide, and my interest in the sport of NASCAR was piqued.
I knew nothing about cars, but hey, Mr. Gordon was a good-looking guy! I began watching races here and there, learning a lot from commentators about the sport and growing to appreciate the skills that are required to do well in it.
After college, the lengthy weekend commitment required of true fans became overwhelming and I mostly stopped watching races. However, my fam's interest in the sport has not waned, and they recently challenged B and me to a fantasy NASCAR competition.
The rules are simple: We each pick 5 drivers for each race. There's no draft, so you can pick any drivers you want. You can have the same drivers for the whole season (the tactic that I'm trying, though my choices did not outperform at Daytona) or change up your drivers each week.
There's no entrance fee, though T offered the great suggestion of the winner being taken out to dinner by the rest of the group. B promptly demanded dinner at the French Laundry, which is not exactly a bargain, even if the rest of us order only water. However, the restaurant's location in California makes it likely that he will have to choose another restaurant in the event that he wins.
Based on my performance in the first race, I have decided to hold off on choosing a restaurant because it doesn't seem likely that I'll be treated to dinner.
If you want to monitor my pitiful progress, check out the Vroom Vroom blog link to the right.
I knew nothing about cars, but hey, Mr. Gordon was a good-looking guy! I began watching races here and there, learning a lot from commentators about the sport and growing to appreciate the skills that are required to do well in it.
After college, the lengthy weekend commitment required of true fans became overwhelming and I mostly stopped watching races. However, my fam's interest in the sport has not waned, and they recently challenged B and me to a fantasy NASCAR competition.
The rules are simple: We each pick 5 drivers for each race. There's no draft, so you can pick any drivers you want. You can have the same drivers for the whole season (the tactic that I'm trying, though my choices did not outperform at Daytona) or change up your drivers each week.
There's no entrance fee, though T offered the great suggestion of the winner being taken out to dinner by the rest of the group. B promptly demanded dinner at the French Laundry, which is not exactly a bargain, even if the rest of us order only water. However, the restaurant's location in California makes it likely that he will have to choose another restaurant in the event that he wins.
Based on my performance in the first race, I have decided to hold off on choosing a restaurant because it doesn't seem likely that I'll be treated to dinner.
If you want to monitor my pitiful progress, check out the Vroom Vroom blog link to the right.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Be my valentine
Valentine's Day has never been one of those big-deal holidays for me. In my personal ranking of holidays, I place it between New Year's Eve, which I not-so-secretly dislike, and Labor Day, which involves zero celebration but does merit a day off.
Ranking holidays sounds like an interesting activity, but I'll have to save it for another time. Perhaps I'll be rewarded with a marshmallow for my ability to delay such fun. Where oh where will I place Arbor Day???
Back to V Day. Prior to B, I spent the vast majority of Valentine's Days as a single lass. I felt obligated to publicly diss the holiday but didn't care that much. (Or so it seems now. If you had asked me then, I might have offered a lonelier response.)
For our first V Day, I bought a couples French cooking lesson for B and me. I thought an activity together might be more memorable than a gift. And it was. While making souffles, we learned how to break cream. It wasn't part of the class; we just overboiled the light cream. Lesson learned: When in doubt about your ability to regulate heat, choose heavy cream, which is practically indestructible.
After our cooking adventure, we took the more traditional gift-giving route for subsequent V Days, but this year I wanted to find another activity that we could do together.
I wasn't interested in going back for another cooking lesson. I booked a night away at a quaint town we'd visited while attending a wedding and wanted to explore more, but I decided I'd rather visit during warmer weather, so I cancelled. I considered another trip to NYC, but again, the weather inspired me to save my pennies for a better time. Any warm location would require flights and wouldn't fit into the V Day budget.
B suggested seeing a show, so I looked around, found a promising jazz performance, and bought tickets for this upcoming weekend. We're also going to a museum that neither of us has visited.
It will be a low-key Valentine's Day but I am looking forward to it.
Ranking holidays sounds like an interesting activity, but I'll have to save it for another time. Perhaps I'll be rewarded with a marshmallow for my ability to delay such fun. Where oh where will I place Arbor Day???
Back to V Day. Prior to B, I spent the vast majority of Valentine's Days as a single lass. I felt obligated to publicly diss the holiday but didn't care that much. (Or so it seems now. If you had asked me then, I might have offered a lonelier response.)
For our first V Day, I bought a couples French cooking lesson for B and me. I thought an activity together might be more memorable than a gift. And it was. While making souffles, we learned how to break cream. It wasn't part of the class; we just overboiled the light cream. Lesson learned: When in doubt about your ability to regulate heat, choose heavy cream, which is practically indestructible.
After our cooking adventure, we took the more traditional gift-giving route for subsequent V Days, but this year I wanted to find another activity that we could do together.
I wasn't interested in going back for another cooking lesson. I booked a night away at a quaint town we'd visited while attending a wedding and wanted to explore more, but I decided I'd rather visit during warmer weather, so I cancelled. I considered another trip to NYC, but again, the weather inspired me to save my pennies for a better time. Any warm location would require flights and wouldn't fit into the V Day budget.
B suggested seeing a show, so I looked around, found a promising jazz performance, and bought tickets for this upcoming weekend. We're also going to a museum that neither of us has visited.
It will be a low-key Valentine's Day but I am looking forward to it.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
The marshmallow experiment
The marshmallow experiment frequently comes up in conversation in our house.
If you're not familiar with it, the marshmallow experiment was conducted in the 60s. Researchers gave 4-year-olds a marshmallow apiece and told them that if they could wait 20 minutes to eat the marshmallow, they'd receive a second marshmallow.
The children who were able to delay gratification were rewarded with a second marshmallow and, as it turns out, many more benefits later in life. As they grew up, they were considered more well-adjusted than their marshmallow-devouring peers and scored higher on standardized tests. Being able to delay gratification is a skill that has widespread benefits in life.
I frequently find myself in situations in which I want to eat the marshmallow right away, metaphorically speaking. I recently convinced myself for a period of about 48 hours that my next car purchase was going to be much more extravagant than I originally planned. Why upgrade to a Camry when I could get a Lexus instead? They have great safety ratings and are so quiet inside! Who wouldn't want a Lexus? I deserve a Lexus!
(Beware of all sentences that begin with "I deserve" and end with an exclamation point.)
After 48 hours of Lexus-induced euphoria, I did some calculations and came back to reality. A Lexus is not in my crystal ball, and another vehicle won't even be part of the plan for at least 3 more years.
At first glance, this situation doesn't seem like a close match to the marshmallow experiment. It might seem like I am delaying gratification only to delay gratification further, never receiving a second marshmallow. However, if you consider the financial bottom line, the situation is a close parallel. My first marshmallow will be my new (to me) vehicle and my second marshmallow will come in the form of money that I would have spent on a Lexus that is instead available for other life expenses.
Another area of life for which gratification is difficult to delay is retirement, or, more specifically, saving for it. B and I both contribute to 401k accounts and opened up IRAs a couple years ago. However, after our initial contribution, we haven't made any more contributions to our IRAs.
The tanking of the stock market soon after we opened our accounts did not help our motivation. But I quickly recognized that this reasoning was actually an excuse. When our financial advisor asked what we'd want to do when the market lost 30 percent of its value, didn't we say that that was the smart time to add more money?
Theory and reality didn't quite meet up on that decision.
It's difficult to justify setting aside funds for a retirement that won't happen for another 30 to 35 (or more!) years when there are so many expenses that could be paid now, from student loans to an underwater mortgage. However, we have come to the conclusion that not eating this marshmallow now will mean a better, easier future for us. It's time to start making regular deductions into our IRAs.
Do these fiscally responsible decisions sound boring? That's because they are! Delayed gratification is by nature unspontaneous and dull in the moment. When you get your second marshmallow, life will be exciting and thrilling, and you will be so happy for your hard work or sacrifice or whatever.
Until then, you're sitting at a table with me, and we're staring at marshmallows that we can't eat.
If you're not familiar with it, the marshmallow experiment was conducted in the 60s. Researchers gave 4-year-olds a marshmallow apiece and told them that if they could wait 20 minutes to eat the marshmallow, they'd receive a second marshmallow.
The children who were able to delay gratification were rewarded with a second marshmallow and, as it turns out, many more benefits later in life. As they grew up, they were considered more well-adjusted than their marshmallow-devouring peers and scored higher on standardized tests. Being able to delay gratification is a skill that has widespread benefits in life.
I frequently find myself in situations in which I want to eat the marshmallow right away, metaphorically speaking. I recently convinced myself for a period of about 48 hours that my next car purchase was going to be much more extravagant than I originally planned. Why upgrade to a Camry when I could get a Lexus instead? They have great safety ratings and are so quiet inside! Who wouldn't want a Lexus? I deserve a Lexus!
(Beware of all sentences that begin with "I deserve" and end with an exclamation point.)
After 48 hours of Lexus-induced euphoria, I did some calculations and came back to reality. A Lexus is not in my crystal ball, and another vehicle won't even be part of the plan for at least 3 more years.
At first glance, this situation doesn't seem like a close match to the marshmallow experiment. It might seem like I am delaying gratification only to delay gratification further, never receiving a second marshmallow. However, if you consider the financial bottom line, the situation is a close parallel. My first marshmallow will be my new (to me) vehicle and my second marshmallow will come in the form of money that I would have spent on a Lexus that is instead available for other life expenses.
Another area of life for which gratification is difficult to delay is retirement, or, more specifically, saving for it. B and I both contribute to 401k accounts and opened up IRAs a couple years ago. However, after our initial contribution, we haven't made any more contributions to our IRAs.
The tanking of the stock market soon after we opened our accounts did not help our motivation. But I quickly recognized that this reasoning was actually an excuse. When our financial advisor asked what we'd want to do when the market lost 30 percent of its value, didn't we say that that was the smart time to add more money?
Theory and reality didn't quite meet up on that decision.
It's difficult to justify setting aside funds for a retirement that won't happen for another 30 to 35 (or more!) years when there are so many expenses that could be paid now, from student loans to an underwater mortgage. However, we have come to the conclusion that not eating this marshmallow now will mean a better, easier future for us. It's time to start making regular deductions into our IRAs.
Do these fiscally responsible decisions sound boring? That's because they are! Delayed gratification is by nature unspontaneous and dull in the moment. When you get your second marshmallow, life will be exciting and thrilling, and you will be so happy for your hard work or sacrifice or whatever.
Until then, you're sitting at a table with me, and we're staring at marshmallows that we can't eat.
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