Merry Christmas

Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Dependent Clause

Dear blog readers,

I try very hard to use correct spelling. My apostrophes are usually in the right places. I try not to run on too many sentences, although it still happens sometimes.

But I use sentence fragments. A lot.

Please forgive me for my dependent clauses. One of my resolutions for the new year is to limit fragments to a maximum of one per article. Please cyber-smack me if I fail.

Sincerely,
Kate

A Friendly Debate

There are many recent political decisions, made on my behalf, that I am uncomfortable with. Those who made the decisions are not idiotic, nor evil, nor ignorant. They are human beings who have made their careers in politics and who live and breath policy everyday. I am entitled to disagree with the direction that they steer my community/province/country, but I have a responsibility to openly yet critically understand their reasoning before I form an opinion.

Last night, I had a very lively conversation with my brother-in-law about global politics, specifically climate change policy. His scholarly expertise is in business while mine is in natural science and mathematics. I presented what I felt to be right and he countered with what he felt to be true. Undeniably, both ethics and realism are essential for any worthwhile discussion. We argued passionately for a good half hour, then gave each other a warm hug and went about our evening. Later that night, when the heat had subsided, I thought critically about what he had hashed out. He had some excellent points.

No one knows everything, but we all know something. We do not need to completely agree with one another to work together. It is tempting to villainize those whose priorities are different from our own, but portraying the "other side" as evil, egotistical, selfish morons is rarely accurate and does not strengthen our argument. Respectful collaboration and good faith are necessary for progression. Very often we may disagree on specifics while holding general consensus. This is reality.

Thank goodness there is so much for me to learn and so many friends and family members to learn from. Otherwise, life would be rather dull.

In Today's News

Last week, my sister was asked about civic politics by a reporter on the street. She answered his question and went about her day. Two different news channels used the footage, and each used a small portion of her quote to support their assessment of the political events in Nanaimo. The strangest part of this story is that the two news stations held opposing editorial views. If you believed everything you watch on TV, you might come to the conclusion that my dear sister holds simultaneously opposite political opinions.

There is bias inherent in the media. So what do we, the audience, do? Do we shut our eyes and ears and ignore the events in the world? Perhaps, instead, we should play an active role in the way we learn from the news.

The news media has a responsibility to strive to provide objective reports of current events. In reality, this is a virtually impossible task. The very best in the field can come close to escaping bias, but it is always there. We, the audience, have a responsibility as well. We are charged with monitoring incoming information and asking ourselves, "What may have been omitted from this report?" We must begin to form our own opinions, instead of relying on editorials to tell us how we should feel. Our interpretations of events may change as more information becomes available. The credibility of a news organization must be assessed. When "facts" are presented, ask "How likely is it that these statements are correct?"
Both the news media and the audience have an obligation to live up to their respective responsibilities.

Be cautious of what you're told, because it may not be true. But don't stop listening because of the existence of lies.

A Lesson Learned

Fill in the blanks.

"I would never ever ever, not for all of the ____________ in the world, [do] _____________. Never."

What did you put in the blanks? Was it something really disgusting? Embarrassing? Demeaning?

I have filled in those blanks a thousand times. There are some things (that I won't write here, just in case you are eating) that I thought I wouldn't do for all of the money, vacations, and guitars in the world.

And yet I do them now - for free. They are jobs that I didn't think were going to be part of adulthood, and yet here they are. I do them because no matter how disgusting, embarrassing, or demeaning they are, someone needs to do them. And I do them with a smile because they make somebody else comfortable and content. It's worth it.

[I'm not talking about anything illegal. Jeez Louise! Get your head out of the gutter.]

I'm talking about taking care of someone. Parents can attest to this: when you take care of someone, you often get more than you bargained for.

For example, I've learned to have a strong stomach. I've learned to listen even while I'm sleeping. I've learned that it's not all about me. I've learned to go with the flow and to find happiness in microseconds and micro expressions. I've learned that I'm stronger than I ever gave myself credit for. I've learned that I have a lot of growing up to do, but that I'm capable of growing up.

I've learned all of this by doing things that "I would never do for all of the money in the world." Sometimes, we must put ourselves in an uncomfortable position, and - if we are lucky - we will learn some of life's most precious lessons.




When you give your heart, it may be broken. When you give your time, it may be wasted. When you give your ideas, they may be ignored. These are the risks we must take in order to grow.

My Christmas Wish List

Someone asked me what I want for Christmas. I sat around, humming and hawing, saying idiotic things like, "Duuurrrrrrrr, weeeellllllll, ummmmmmmmmmm. I - uh - don't really need anything."

Here's the thing - I don't really need anything. I thought very hard about what I might like. Someone was offering to give me whatever my little heart desired (for free!), and my heart desired no material thing.

I think I might have grown up this year.

If there is some relative or friend who is generous enough to actually desire to give me a gift this Christmas (Thank you!), let me make it very easy for you. Instead of taking the time to think about what I might like, then driving to the mall, then spending four hours looking for parking, then fighting with eight old ladies who also want the very last item of the thing-a-ma-junk you are buying, then driving across town  to try to find the thing-a-ma-junk at another store (because the old lady with the sideburns beat you out; what a scrapper), then wrapping it in pretty paper and a big bow, please just use that time to come over for coffee and spend some time with me. It's what I really want.

If this notion of spending-time-not-money makes you uncomfortable and you really really really really need to buy something to feel like you've done your job, I respect that. I recommend donating to a charity, such as this one.

But honestly, I would rather just have a coffee with you.

Happy Holidays

Can't Beat the Classics

When I was seven years old, my parents gave me my first guitar. I played classical music almost exclusively until I was 15. Today, my commitment is only recreational, but I still love to sit and listen to recordings of the best guitarists doing their thing. Here are some of my favourite pieces.

 Recuerdos de la Alhambra by Francisco Tarrega (my favourite romantic period composer), played by James Edwards

 The Old Castle (my favourite piece to play when I was 14 years old - I wish I could still play it!) by Modest Mussorgsky, played by Ray Reussner

La Catedral by Augustin Barrios (my favourite contemporary composer), played by Denis Azabagic

Stormy Weather

November storms are one of the best parts of living on the west coast. Mother Nature demonstrates her power. She reminds you that you live in her world, and that she could easily kick your butt if you don't behave. 

Power. Excitement. Thrills. Passion. And wind. A lot of wind.

I'll be good, Mom. I promise.

Some (crazy people) hope that a roller coaster has rapid drops and corkscrew turns because it brings them excitement. I, on the other hand, hate roller coasters. But when a storm hits, I hope that the power gets knocked out and that the rain pounds against my window. I have plenty of candles, flashlights, and blankets to deal with a power shortage. The sound of the howling winds and the sight of the bowing trees is somehow invigorating and yet satisfying.

In Come Away With Me, Norah Jones sings,

"I want to wake up with the rain falling on a tin roof."

Me too. I wouldn't mind some gale force winds, as well.

An Early Start

Most years, my motto is that Christmas season begins December 1st. At the earliest. Never in November. Never. Often, I am so busy with exams that it effectively begins around December 20th.

Not this year.

This year, Christmas season began today. Thank-you digital cable music channels for fueling my need for carols, and Martha Stewart and Canadian Living for giving me decoration ideas.

In the near future, I'm going to attempt to make these:

What crafts or goodies do you make for Christmas?

Civic Elections are this Saturday

Nanaimo's civic elections will be held this Saturday, November 19th. If you have spent more than ten minutes commenting on (or complaining about) how this city is run in the past few years, then you certainly have ten minutes to be proactive and cast your ballot. Find out about the candidates here.

Practically the only hot button issue in this election is the low barrier housing project. Social media has facilitated the transformation of this heated conversation into a real-time 24/7 debate-apollooza. Both opponents and proponents have Facebook pages devoted to raising awareness about the issue. I think it's fabulous that technology has made it trivial for citizens, especially young adults, to engage in civic politics.

As we speculate the impacts of supportive housing will have on our community, it is natural to consider other communities which have undergone similar processes, and  to assess the benefits and costs. This is called research. We then assess what we think that situation would look like here. No matter how similar another community's project is to our own, the conditions will never be identical. It is important to understand the similarities and the differences between their system and ours so that we can be aware of the level of confidence we have in our assessment.

We ask, "What happened? How are the conditions similar? How are they different? What can we learn?"

Horror stories that are kinda-sorta loosely related to Low Barrier Housing in Nanaimo suggest the worst that could happen. Accounts of similar housing projects in similar communities with similar demand and similar challenges suggest what is likely to happen.

If you are interested in learning about the issue, check out this brochure from the city. To join the conversation, head over to The Green Light Project on Facebook (in favour of the supportive housing project) or the Concerned Citizens of Nanaimo (opposed to the project.) Be aware that anyone is free to post on these pages, so not all information may be correct.

I have a great deal of respect for those who are engaging in local politics, regardless of their stance on this issue. Hats off to you! And remember to vote on Saturday!

A Neat Problem - Points on a sphere

I came across a little riddle while studying for the Putnam Mathematics Contest. I thought it was neat, so I'm passing it along.

Suppose there is a sphere on which you draw five tiny dots. Prove that there is a way to cut the sphere in half (simply into hemispheres - no zig-zag cutting allowed!) so that four of the dots are on the same hemisphere, regardless of where the dots are placed. You can count dots "on the line" of the cut toward whichever hemisphere you wish.

If you have questions which begin with "Is it ok if I...," the answer is very likely "no."

Enjoy!

A brief thought about a tricky problem

I'm working through a math assignment. Question 3 is a doozie. I have this sneaking suspicion that it was put on the assignment just to screw with me.

No matter what I do or how hard I try, I can't force this question to make sense. I am totally consumed. I think about it before bed. I think about it when I wake up. I think about it when I cook dinner. I think about it when I sit on the bus. I am thinking about it right now. And somehow, I still can't find the answer.

The strangest part of this experience is that I actually enjoy being driven half crazy in search of the answer. I like the challenge. I like to be up in the middle of the night thinking instead of sleeping.

But I hate feeling like a prisoner to this obsession. I'd like to be able to think about something else for a little while. And I'd like some sleep, too.

I guess it's a "love-hate" thing.

I'm Always Right

There is a hot debate in my community.

The Municipal and Provincial Governments have teamed up to build low barrier housing in Nanaimo, BC. The purpose of this project is to house those with addictions and mental illness. The use of illicit drugs (inside their rooms) would not result in the eviction of residents. Nanaimoites are divided on the issue, and with good reason. (I am not going to dive into these reasons here, because I fear the word-storm that may result in the comments box. Perhaps some other time.) Few of us are experts on mental health, and so we speculate the effects that such a facility would have on our community and compare them with the effects of doing nothing. Some have spoken out creatively and suggested amendments to the plan which would adjust the consequences of the project.

Personally, I'm quite happy that public dialogue has shifted from digitization of power meters and minor changes in the tax structure to an issue which is much more relevant.

When a person debates any topic, they can have a confirmation bias. This phenomenon causes one to actively seek out information that confirms his existing opinion, while rejecting information that opposes it. In other words, I am always correct because those who disagree are always wrong. While this bias, coupled with pride, leads to some very exciting debates, it often makes effective conversation impossible. For evidence of this bias, refer to the Letters to the Editor column in any edition of the Nanaimo Bulliten. By becoming aware of our confirmation bias, we can begin to participate in meaningful and productive discussions, which can help to progress our society.

Hopefully, this hot debate can result in actions which improve the lives of those who need housing and those who already have it.

My Confession

I'm just going to come out and say it.

I love (some) country music. With all my heart. Forever and ever.

You know that very stereotypical country music about dying dogs and broken pickup trucks? I'm not talking about that kind of country music. I love country music sung by musicians who have, at one time or another, been a great chanteur or chanteuse of any other genre of music. The musicians who can blend a little jazz or a little rock into slide riffs and bent notes hold a special place in my heart and on my playlist.

When I was a kid, my dad would play Willie Nelson on repeat. When he bought a car with a functioning stereo, his Willie disc was permanently lodged in the CD tray. There was no need for a 5 disc changer, because there was only one worth listening to. Sure, he would try out some other music every now and then. But it only seemed to last a few songs before the disc would be removed and the car would, once again, be filled with that soothing voice of Mr. Nelson. I always felt that he was not singing into a microphone, but instead that he was having a very personal conversation with me in which he divulged all of his deepest personal secrets. I loved his jazzy phrasing and sophisticated chord choices in the context of whining guitars and the occasional honky-tonk backbone. My love affair with blended country music began with Mr. Willie Nelson's rendition of Blue Skies.

This week, I listened to a YouTube video of Norah Jones and Bonnie Raitt singing Tennessee Waltz by Pee Wee King and Redd Stewart. While I am not a big fan of the original, nor many of the dozens of covers, Norah's version had a strong jazz and blues influence, while Bonnie's licks were 100% country flair. I adore the blend of genres. This video reignited my passion for quasi-country. I searched on YouTube, and much to my delight, Norah Jones and Willie Nelson have also sung duets, including The Wulritzer Prize and Baby, It's Cold Outside (ok, that song is a little more jazz than country. It's still amazing.) If you ask me, it's a match made in heaven.

Four Square

Yesterday was one of my favourite kinds of days. It was just warm enough to walk around without a jacket and the sun was bright yet gentle. When the temperature is in that range, there is no fretting with your clothing layers; you're just comfortable. And when you are comfortable, it's so easy to look for the beauty in the world. Mother Nature isn't one to disappoint. Thanks, Mom, for the changing leaves and the views of the coast mountains.

I decided to enhance my already-awesome-day with three upgrades.

1. A mid-morning stroll in the harbour with my man.

2. A Cinnamon Kiss Latte. (Move on over "pumpkin spice." My heart belongs to someone else now. Someone who brings the real spice back to my caffeine romance.)

3. A read-through of the proof that every positive integer (definition: a regular old number; no fractions, no decimals) can be written as the sum of four integer squares (an integer times itself).

Pick your favourite number. In our house, where Micheal Jordan is heavily featured, this number is 23. Now try to write it as the sum of four squares.

23 = 9 + 9 + 4 + 1 = (3x3) + (3x3) + (2x2) + (1x1)

(Note: 0x0 counts as an integer square. Also, if you know how to use superscript on blogger, please let me know how.)

What is truly remarkable is that EVERY positive integer can be written this way. Even this one: 84863672095433749084578467379049368059659357463527546367548986937846572

It also means that if you have a number of Skittles, you can arrange them in exactly four square shapes. Since 0x0 counts as a square, this means that you can arrange them in at most four squares. These squares must be filled in, like this.

 

If you had 7845674986935860893457289 Skittles, no temptation to eat them, and nothing better to do, you could arrange them in at most four square shapes. It would be possible! Then, if you ate some, you could rearrange the remaining Skittles into at most four new square shapes. Outstanding!

Furthermore, if we had a super-charged gravity pump capable of towing stars, we could arrange all of the stars in the universe into, you guessed it, at most four square shapes. If we had two super-charged gravity pumps, we could divide the stars into two groups. You and I could have a race; the first to arrange their collection of stars into at most four square shapes using their gravity pump would be declared the winner.

I think it would be quite a long race.

Bye for now.

Enjoy the autumn weather! Thanks for stopping by.

Crunch Time and PSP

Well, hello there! It's been a while.

It is now what we university folk refer to as "crunch time." There are so many assignments and midterms due that there isn't enough time to pick of the pieces of my shattered brain off of the sides of my skull. However, procrastination binges (no matter how poorly timed) are not uncommon. You are reading one right now, and you may find yourself reading them all semester.

And now for something completely different:

Have you ever heard of PSP? No, not the game thingy or that red tide illness. The other PSP. Progressive Supranuclear Palsy. No? Never heard of it? Neither had I.

It is a rare neurodegenerative disease whose patients gradually lose their muscle control, especially the ability to walk, speak, and swallow. Cognition is also slowed, so conversation progresses at a much slower rate. The cause of PSP is unknown. It progresses over time and there is no effective treatment and no cure.

Actor Dudley Moore, pictured below, was mistaken for a drunk and treated with disrespect while in the early stages of PSP, because his disease caused him to lose balance, slur his speech, and converse awkwardly.

For a 20/20 story on Dudley Moore's battle with PSP, click here.

It is truly unfortunate that so many battle this disease, yet so few know it exists. Patients deserve respect and compassion, not judgement. While they fight the battle to hold on to their brain, they need us to fight to find a cure. It starts with awareness. So thanks for reading.

But for now I'd better get on with my mountain of homework.

Thanks for stopping by!
K