My Curious Life

I took some time this evening to catch up on my newsfeed reading, and was entertained and amused by (Shane’s) Own Drummer post. He was, in turn, inspired by WAH(web)Mommy’s How Weird Are You?

Thanks to the current chaos in my day job, an overabundance of caffeine in my system and a lack of real purpose this evening, I’m feeling like chiming in with my own weird confessions. So here goes with my own 7 weird things …

1. I have six kids.
   From three continents. Four of them adopted. Three boys, three girls. You there, stop humming the Brady Bunch theme song! Never did I ever expect to have such a large family, but once you’ve gotten past three kids, you’re screwed anyway, so why stop the insanity there. As a result, I have come to embrace the chaos and somehow thrive in the midst of it. My kids keep me young and help me appreciate all that I have. And I have seen some beautiful parts of the world thanks to the international adoptions we’ve done.
    
2. I don’t drink coffee, beer or like seafood.
   And I grew up in the Northwest. Go figure, huh? I’ll drink coffee only if I can mix some serious chocolate with it, so why not just make an awesome hot chocolate? I was scarred for life in Munich by Rauchbier, which is akin to drinking warm blended wheat and charcoal. My affinity for the sea-species has been pretty limited to bland, white fish for years, though Mr. Williams was able to get me to try a variety of sushi in San Jose. I must admit that most of it was quite tasty, but finding equivalently delectable sushi in Portland has been a challenge. Perhaps there is hope for me to live up to my Northwestern roots someday.
    
3. I decorate cakes for fun.
   I have my own Wilton decorator tip set, and the will to use it. I can tell you about buttercream frosting recipes, home-made cake fillings, and how to make frosting roses in a number of sizes. And yes, I even do those kitschy little scalloped edges, too. Both my mother and grandmother decorated cakes in their time, and both of them semi-professionally.
    
4. I love speaking in front of groups.
   Especially if it’s about something I enjoy or can teach. (BONUS: I was going to go into teaching, but got diverted when some legislation passed that killed my plans.) Yet, if you get me alone in a room, I revert to my psychology training and start analyzing posture, asking open-ended “feel” questions and try to divert attention from myself. I’m fine in small groups though.
    
5. I cry at sappy movies/TV, but not much at real life.
   I can’t explain it, I get all choked up by Dead Poet’s Society or Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, yet horrible things like 9/11 or the loss of friends and family just leave me numb. Not unfeeling, just unable to express it. Strange … perhaps even weird.
    
6. I will have no (facial) wrinkles when I’m old.
   Or at least very few. On my left side. I’ll be an excellent spokesperson for Botox or anti-aging creams. I’ll also make a great before and after snapshot. I was born with a hemangioma occupying the cavity under my left cheekbone that went unchecked until my teen years. A surgery and some other procedures later, I have little feeling on that side of my face, a quirky smirk of a smile due to nerve damage, and a re-grown tumor. C’est la vie! And to make matters even more ironic, that part of my face sweats when I should be salivating, and salivates when I should be sweating.
    
7. I have a funky number memory.
   I can recall my 8-digit library card number from gradeschool, my first 16-digit debit card number, Social Security numbers, phone numbers and all sorts of other random numbers of some relevance. Whether I want to or not. Just don’t wave your Visa near me and tell me you have some credit to spare. (Just kidding, of course!)
    

Thanks to Shane and WAH(web)Mommy for the entertainment!

Reading about the healthy and growing European rail system the other day made me get a bit misty-eyed and sentimental. I have many fond memories of the convenience of rail travel throughout Europe from my days living in Vienna, Austria. Since then, the Channel Tunnel has opened Paris to London travel, even bringing with it a renaissance for some previously deteriorating train stations.

Jump over the pond to the U.S. and you have essentially one rail option, Amtrak: slow routes that only cover a few major areas of the U.S., worn out rails and trains, and customer service that’s none-too-stellar. Yeah, that’s enticing. (Don’t even get me started about local mass transit … that’s something else lacking in the U.S., especially the West Coast.)

In fact, many of the Amtrak routes are at least partially served by bus and not truly rail at all. Amtrak’s only true recent success has been in the Northeast, where population density has made it more financially advantageous to make frequent rail trips, even quasi-high-speed rail reaching speeds in some sections up to 134mph (over about 18 miles of track).

Even given Amtrak’s rocky history and their current financial stats, I think that a few truly high-speed regional rail lines built with the financial cooperation of the cities, counties and states they would serve might turn around the aging giant and bring to the U.S. some of the class and convenience of the European railroad. Take into account soaring gas prices, frustrations with current airline service, and extensive security measures and the number of reasons to revisit rail as an option start making sense.

Even U.S. juggernaut GE could be called in to develop a new, more eco-friendly high speed locomotive based upon their Evolution^TM series engines. Or we could simply adopt Bombardier’sthe ICE train, as Germany and the Netherlands have, built by Siemens AG and Bombardier. Or settle for the not-quite-as-fast JetTrain.

Alstom, maker of Europe’s successful TGV train, already has a very high speed train that has set a speed record of 574.8 kph ( ~ 357 mph ). Getting reliable high-speed service up around 180 mph should be feasible and attainable.

Amtrak takes over 40 hours to travel from Vancouver, BC to San Francisco, the first 4 hours on a bus. What would happen to travel along the U.S. West Coast if high speed rail served the region? You could ride in an incredibly comfortable rail car for the same (or less) time and money as taking a flight. Would security have to be as tight? Would we be able to do high-speed cargo as well? Perhaps maximize the necessary infrastructure investments by taking fresh local goods and services from one region to another faster and more efficiently than by truck or conventional rail?

Admittedly, nationwide high speed rail might be a fantasy at this point, but isn’t a high-speed regional system possible?

It’s approximately 1400 miles from Vancouver, BC to San Diego, CA. The trip by a conventional airline flight averages about 5.5 hours — 1 hour in flight from Vancouver, BC to Seattle, WA, then a 1.5 hour layover and another 3 hour flight to San Diego, CA. This doesn’t include the additional time necessary to check-in at the airport and go through security or pick up your bags in luggage claim.

What if we had a high-speed rail service that traveled the West Coast and stopped in these cities:

• Vancouver, BC
• Seattle
• Olympia
• Portland
• Salem
• Eugene
• Sacramento
• San Jose
• Los Angeles
• San Diego

A high-speed rail line operating at about 200 mph and making 20 minute layovers in each metro area, could make the entire trip from Vancouver, BC to San Diego, CA in just over 10 hours (caveat: heavily averaged math). That’s about 1/4 of the time it takes now. That may still seem like a long time, but rail can offer things that air travel can’t, like dining cars, sleeper cars and no limitations on electronic devices (bring those laptops and iPhones). I know I’d gladly spend the night on a train in comfort on my way to California rather than waste an extra day at the airport on either end of my trips. Or gain the ability to actually get things done during the course of my trip, as well as eat a decent meal.

For now, I’ll just have to wait and dream. Amtrak’s FY2008 request makes it pretty clear that they are still trying to revitalize their fleet and bring the overall system into “a state of good repair” at this point, and they make no mention of the West Coast at all. Maybe, just maybe, their success in the Northeast can translate into something good for us in the West. And if you start looking for a place to start new experimental service, Mr. Kummant, we’d be happy to oblige.

Okay, it’s been a couple of (insane) weeks since the last post … not that I don’t have a dozen posts queued up and (almost) ready to go …

Anyway, I was humbled today by finding out through the very clever David Armano that I made Grant McCracken’s blogroll list.

I’ve replied to some posts from both David and Grant, and I’m always interested in what they have to say, but to find my blog among the list on Grant’s site, is, well, very flattering.

Needless to say, I’ll try to live up to the promise of being a “new source of inspiration” that David feels many on the G-list are.

I have a confession to make. My son, Caleb, is from Mars. Or maybe Pluto. He doesn’t have antennae or a glowing finger, nor does he live in an egg-shaped bed. He does, however, live in a world all his own and only occasionally in this one. It’s those rare moments when he’s here with us, though, that make it all worthwhile. You see, Caleb has autism.

Not only that, he also has pervasive developmental disorder — a form of mental retardation.

A couple of months ago my wife and I went to see the latest John (and Joan) Cusack movie, Martian Child. The simple story is about a boy who’s different. Very different. A boy who believes he is from Mars. A boy whose needs and differences challenge and inspire his widower foster father (John Cusack) to come to grips with his own differences. A boy who exposes how cruel the world at large can be to those who are truly different from the norm.

Shortly thereafter, I heard a story on NPR about a film being released that tells one child’s story of special needs and inclusion.

As an interaction designer, I’ve found it particularly meaningful to have a child with special needs. I think it makes you even more sensitive to the world around you and how those of us who fit the norm so unknowingly take simple things for granted. I find it amazing to watch my almost 8-year-old son work through problems that my “normal” 3-year-old breezes through with ease.

Small buttons that require excellent fine motor control (remotes/telephones), handles and knobs that operate counter to their purpose (car doors and 3-way switches), and frustrating tools that expose rather than hide their underlying complexity (AV systems). These are just a few of the many things that confound my son day-to-day.

It’s an adventure that is constantly changing the way that I interpret the world.

So, as we start 2008, what (or who) has caused a change in the way you think/act/perceive over the course of the past year?