Perception is everything

Is this a comely young lass or an old hag? If you’ve seen this classic optical illusion before, you know the answer is both. Or more precisely: “it depends on how you look at it.”

We humans perceive everything through our personal lens –– our unique blend of knowledge, experience, values and desires. No two people will perceive an identical situation the same way. Two people could be standing in the same room and see it differently –- they’re viewing it from different angles, for one, and interpret what they’re seeing uniquely. And each of those people might see the room differently themselves depending on the day, the time and their mood. People change --they learn new facts, gain life experience, rethink their assumptions, and value different things as they grow older and (presumably) wiser.

I’ve seen this for myself in a myriad of ways. Pop stars that seemed so cool and intimidating to me as a kid often seem ridiculous (and a little sad) in retrospect. Situations that tormented me in college wouldn’t faze me today. And people I once idealized have been knocked from the pedestal as their human frailties came to light.

Sometimes I’m surprised at how quickly my own perception of something can change –- new information, circumstances, or hypotheses, if compelling enough, can upend even the most entrenched sentiment.

But more often, our perception lags the changing reality. Once, when I was picking up my daughter from preschool, I mistook another kid for Elena. (I know: Father of the Year, right?) As I drew closer to the unwitting imposter, I noticed that she was taller and chubbier than my daughter –- and wasn’t responding when I called her name. Instead of recalibrating my initial assumption and realizing that I had honed in on the wrong girl, I instantly began adjusting my perception of Elena. Wow, I thought, Elena has gotten so big without my noticing –- not to mention a little hard of hearing. One of the teachers, embarrassed for me, sheepishly pointed out where Elena actually was.

This kind of perception-lag happens all the time. We bend new information to our preconceived assumptions rather than the other way around. We continue spending time with toxic people, supporting politicians long after their policies have ceased serving our interests, and buying products even when alternatives have emerged in the marketplace.

What blinds our perception? Is it inertia? Misguided loyalty? Unwillingness to admit you were wrong?

I guess it all depends on how you look at it.

Elena’s first dance performance

Elena’s dance class performed last night. I thought she did great, but Elena herself was less impressed, complaining that “the other girls weren’t doing the right things, and I didn’t like the music.”

We have to do something fast. She’s far too young to be a diva (in the pejorative sense).

Not getting the social-media hate

People who live their lives on Facebook, Twitter, Google +, Pinterest, Instagram or the countless other social networks have always seemed a little sad to me. As do the people who seem so self-satisfied for not being on them.

While I can understand why even a tech-savvy person wouldn’t personally use a social network -– I think it’s misguided in today’s world, but I can understand it on some level –- people who seem emotionally vested in others’ joining the boycott perplex me to the extreme.

Yes, reasonable people can find fault with particular services. Facebook’s fast-and-loose concept of user privacy irritates me, too, and I’d drop the service in a second if I felt the company crossed the line. And sure, Twitter is not the place for well-developed arguments or deep philosophical discourse. And no, seeing a photo of someone’s meal on Instagram is not exactly enlightening. People abuse and misuse every form of communication, whether it’s the printing press, TV or the telephone. Above all, I couldn’t agree more that If social media ever begins to take the place of personal communication, it has defeated its own purpose.

But in my experience, these tools enhance communication and personal relationships. In addition to allowing me to keep in touch with far-flung friends from every stage of my life, these tools allow friends to effortlessly share things that they wouldn’t necessarily deem significant enough to email, print or bring up in a quick conversation -– things that they wouldn’t think to share but I enjoy  enjoy knowing. An article in the New York Times a few years ago labeled this notion “ambient awareness.” This doesn’t take the place of real-life personal connections –- it encourages them.

That said, I have no stake in whether someone else uses a particular service --or none of them. (In other words, I’m not like the HR manager who wrote the third letter in today’s Dear Prudence column). If Facebook isn’t your thing or brings nothing of value to you, who am I to persuade you to use it? That’s why I’m surprised when someone feels so strongly against other people using social networks.

I hate Arby’s with a passion. But I promise I won’t think less of you for eating there.

Extended warranties are usually a bad deal

A nice follow-up from the NYTimes about Staples' questionable product-warranty practices, proving once again that big-box retailers' biggest problem isn't "show-rooming." It's themselves.

My Own Personal Book Club

 

A co-worker who occasionally discusses literature with me noticed my dearth of blog posts and suggested this week that I highlight my current reading list for public comment/ridicule. So on that spirit, here’s what I’m reading now:

• I started but abruptly stopped "Howard's End" by E.M. Forster. I'm not sure what happened -- I probably got distracted -- but I do plan to resume after I finish a few other items in this list. I haven't completed enough of the book to comment on it.
• "Malgudi Days," a collection of classic short stories by R.K. Narayan that became a popular TV show in India. I wouldn't call it great literature, but The stories provide vivid snapshots of life in India at the time and a cast of characters that seem extraordinary and real at the same time. The short-story format is easily digestible, enabling the reader to put the book down and pick it up later without losing anything.
• "The Sun Also Rises." Yes, the Ernest Hemingway classic. I know saying this makes me sound like a philistine or – worse -- presumptuous, but I can't say I like his plain, Spartan writing style. While the approach is great for journalism and other nonfiction (Hemingway, like me, was a journalist), it's not as enjoyable in novels, at least so far. Acclimating to an unfamiliar writing style is always the toughest part about getting into a new book, so I'm hoping I'll get used to it and begin enjoying the story for the story's sake.
• Anna Karenina, the Leo Tolstoy classic, which is being retold in a new movie. I usually stick to English-language novels, but the Maude translation is engaging, and the story is familiar and new at the same time. I have a feeling that this will be the story I finish before returning to the other items in this list.
• And for a bit a easy-reading nonfiction, "The Power of Habit," by Charles Duhigg. This book looks at how people form and break habits, with an emphasis on using triggers to harness the power of habit to our benefit. The premise seems reasonable -- habits form when we have a trigger, action and reward -- but I haven't yet tested the theory.

And while I'm on the subject of reading, I wanted to mention that I'm really tempted by Amazon's new Kindle Paperwhite. By all accounts, the device's screen is amazing. But I really like the physical buttons on my Nook, so I'm not sure whether the Kindle would be as usable for me. I really hope Barnes&Noble licenses the screen technology but keeps the Nook form factor. Or that Amazon adds physical page-turn buttons to the Kindle. Either way is fine, really.

A sucker for cover songs

NPR’s Happy Hour pop-culture podcast delves into one of my favorite topics this week: cover songs. I gotta admit -- I love ‘em. If you scrolled my music collection by song title, you’d see what looks like a lot of duplicates. In most cases these are different remixes of the song or different versions of the song performed by another artist.

I’m really a sucker for both categories, probably for the same reason in each case. I love to see a song stripped down to its elemental components and built back up from scratch. When done right, the core DNA remains, but the work is entirely new. This is especially true for cover versions, where the recording artist puts a new spin on the piece, imbibing a familiar tune with new life. (From a communitarian perspective, covering a song is also an act of tribute, honoring fellow artists and keeping past works alive for a new generation of listeners.)

Sometimes, the result doesn’t quite work –- a college friend once became vocally enraged when I played the Pet Shop Boys’ version of U2’s “Where the Streets Have No Name.” In other cases, the result is meh -- the cover doesn’t add much of anything to the original. Case in point: Erasure’s cover of the Blondie classic “Rapture.”

But in many cases, the result is something wonderful, such as Adele’s cover of the Cure’s “Lovesong.” And in some rare cases, the result is something close to magical, where the cover outshines the original. Gary Jules’ hauntingly beautiful cover of Tears for Fears’ “Mad World” is a prime example. (This version was featured in the cult classic movie Donnie Darko, which I highly recommend.)

My love of cover music is probably what drew me to the Glee in its early days, when the show still performed interesting new arrangements of music rather than simply replicating the original arrangement.

Fortunately, I live in the age of the Internet, where a person can indulge any fetish. In this case, The Covers Project ought to keep me occupied for awhile.

Blogs of Innocence and Experience

As the father of a 4-year-old, I do everything in my power to keep my daughter’s mind protected, soul uncorrupted and life uncomplicated. I want her to have a simple, romantic view of the world, where animals talk, people sing and stories have happy endings.

For now.

As she grows up, a crucial part of her development will be learning that the world is not the candy-colored playgrounds depicted in her My Little Pony Netflix queue. Like William Blake’s famous poems (from which this blog post takes its name), she’ll cross the event horizon of adolescence and adulthood into a world where the innocence of lambs gives way to the fearful symmetry of a tiger, and often, joy to sorrow.

Those lessons are easy –- they’ll naturally occur as she experiences the world in all its gnarled imperfection. She’ll learn that her parents aren’t perfect, politicians lie, and salespeople don’t always have her best interests at heart.

The tricky part is not letting experience transform that innocence into cynicism. It’s a fine balance. Naivety –- viewing the world through a child’s eyes -- is a dangerous way to live as an adult. But a life of world-weary bitterness is cold and lonely.

I can’t say I’ve found equilibrium yet. Despite my sarcasm and journalism-induced skepticism of anything stated as fact, I tend to romanticize the world, idealizing bigger-than-life people, government and institutions. When reality inevitably triumphs, I’m left disheartened and utterly disenchanted. As Byrd says in Len Deighton’s An Expensive Place to Die, cynics are just disappointed romantics. Or as Rick Bayan’s The Cynic’s Dictionary puts it, a cynic is “an idealist whose rose-colored glasses have been removed, snapped in two and stomped into the ground, immediately improving his vision.”

How do we balance the two extremes? Guarding our heart without  building a wall around it? Accepting that life will break your heart, but refusing to let it break your soul?

Maybe Blake answered it best in Auguries of Innocence:

He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mock'd in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.

He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.

Elena discovers that the Internet has information, too

She already knows she can find funny videos and music, but surprised me by asking to check whether the author of The Runaway Bunny also wrote The Runaway Mummy (no).

Then she wanted to see pictures of termites.

 

Let's just hope she doesn't figure out that the Internet can be used to buy things, too.

Motoactv price slashed to $150

One of my best gadget purchases ever, the all-in-one fitness/music/life-tracking Motoactv GPS sports watch, just got a 40% discount. Unfortunately, I can't tell whether this is a good thing.

If the stock-clearing discount is a prelude to a new version of the product, I'm happy to hear that Motorola is sticking with the product, which despite some annoying flaws, is ahead of its time in the fitness tracker category. This device played a big role is keeping me motivated and disciplined in my half-marathon earlier this year. The Google executive now in charge of Motorola is a triathlete, so there's hope that he's pushing for a watertight, tougher version of the Motoactv.

But my fear -- and gut feeling -- is that the discount actually means Motorola is killing off the device. That would be a shame, but it wouldn't be the first time a well-conceived tech product has failed in the marketplace. And cleaning out the product catalog is common after an acquisition.

Still, discontinuing the device so soon after adding golfing features and advertising it so heavily would seem odd. And Google is pushing Android anywhere it can. I mean, come on -- This device is a whole lot more practical than Google Glasses.

But if Arrested Develoment can get cancelled, I guess anything is possible.

If the Motoactv is indeed being killed off, I hope the company does one last favor and give users a way to keep using the device, either maintaining the portal or enabling the device to transfer run data to third-party sites.

Taking the plunge

Gulp. I've begun training for my first full marathon, which if all goes well, will take place in early November.

I won't lie -- 26.2 miles sounds daunting. In January, I had decided to tackle a marathon by the end of the year, but chickened out after the San Diego Half Marathon last spring. When I had finished that one, I couldn't imagine myself being just halfway through.

And yet, here I am, ready to go for it. I've done enough training and reading that I'm convinced -- not delusional, I hope -- that it's doable. Oprah did it. Drew Carey is a runner. And while I can't stand their politics, even George W. Bush and Sarah Palin have respectable marathon times.

I'm trying to time things so that the bulk of my training occurs in the September-October timeframe, when my wife and daughter are in Brazil. I've tentatively selected the Santa Barbara International Marathon but am waiting for my wife to confirm her plans before I settle on mine. As part of my training leading to the full marathon, I will definitely be running the Zombie Runner Half Marathon on Labor Day. (Despite the name, no Zombies are actually running. The name comes from the store sponsoring it.

Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I want to feel justified calling myself a runner. Maybe I just want the 26.2 sticker on my car.

It does get better

I couldn't disagree more with the title of this recent blog post from BuzzFeed writer Matt Buchanan, which argues that updates don't make most devices better.

You might buy a new phone that's missing something, thinking, "It will get better." No, it won't. If I were to tell you one thing about buying technology, it is this: Buy something because you like what it is right now, not because you think it's going to get better, or that one day it'll be what you really wanted it to be. It's kind of like marrying somebody and thinking you'll change them and they'll get better. They might. But they probably won't. Over time, you'll just hate them even more. And yourself, at least a little.

The writer makes several good points about making sure you're happy with a device you have, not the one you're hoping to have with the next update. And I completely agree with him about Android phones. Unless something changes dramatically in the next few months with regards to carrier OS updates, I won't ever buy another non-Nexus Android phone again.

But Buchanan oversells his case. Almost every device I have is better than it was when I first bought it. My MotoACTV running tracker has a dramatically better battery life, more features and better reliability thanks to the magic of software updates. My Nook has sharper text and changes pages more quickly than it did last year. And let's not forget how much better the iPhone was a year after its launch, when third-party apps had begun to truly transform the device from something cool to something transformative.

Buchanan concedes as much about the Xbox, but argues that it's an isolated case. He's wrong. Devices usually get better with updates. Let's hope tech journalists do, too.

Dear Best Buy: Your biggest problem isn't "show-rooming"

If I read one more business news article lamenting the effect of e-commerce on big-box retailers such as Best Buy, I swear I'm going to hunt down the reporter and make that person come shopping with me.

Yes, Amazon avoids many sales taxes. Yes, Amazon doesn't have to stock items in fancy buildings and pay people to wear blue shirts (from what I've seen, that's pretty much all they're paid to do). And yes, some people ogle and manhandle gadgets at the store and only to purchase them online.

But just as many people log onto to Amazon in the store to read the reviews, then head for the cashier with the item under their arm. I do.

Physical retailers have a couple of huge advantages over online retailers: instant gratification and hand-holding from salespeople, reassuring shoppers that any given purchase is a good one. If someone has already made the effort to drive down to a store and expressed a tangible interest in a given doodad, clinching the deal shouldn't be difficult.

And yet, for Best Buy it is. I've lost count of how many times I've gone to Best Buy hoping to snag an expensive toy only to return empty-hand because the store was out of stock or the salesperson couldn't find (or unwilling to look) for the item. And even when the store happens to have the item, the purchase process is painful -- "No, I don't want the extended warranty. No, I don't want any accessories. No, I don't want to justify my budgeting priorities to a stranger."

That anyone shops there at all is a testament to the power of I-want-it-now.

Best Buy's biggest problem isn't Amazon. Best Buy's biggest problem is Best Buy.

A modest proposal for gadget reviews

If I ran a technology product-review blog, I'd have a regular feature called "The Six-Month Checkup." It would basically be an addendum to every previous initial gadget review, detailing how well a product is holding up over time. Such a feature would let reviewers get better acquainted with a product -- its annoyances, reliability issues and even little surprise features that don't always make it into the press materials.

As a onetime/longtime technology journalist, I know the pressures of product reviews: your readers and editors want them immediately, and six-month-old gadgets aren't exactly eyeball magnets. But I think there's an audience that -- whether for reasons of frugality or conservation -- is looking to make careful long-lasting purchases. And for this audience, the Six-Month Checkup is just what the doctor ordered.

Happy Fathers Day (to me!)

The fringe benefits of fatherhood: I woke up to a delicious crepe breakfast, cookies and an iFitness hydration belt I've been eyeing. I am loved.

Starting over

After months of non-activity, I think I'm ready to start blogging again. I do have a few housekeeping things to take care of, including whether to switch to WordPress and whether to continue using Flickr to host my photos. Yes, I know -- both seem passé. I need to figure out whether the benefits of switching outweigh the hassle. Stay tuned.

For my first post, I present an original song written, arranged and performed by my daughter (surprisingly melancholy for a 4-year-old). Now, if only I could decide on a second post.