FrostBurn Day 3

On the third day of FrostBurn, I woke up feeling much better. I was nice and warm inside the winter shelter overnight. I got to have a lot of bacon during the day — largely from the Church of Bacon camp. Too much bacon, I think — if that's even possible [although I could still smell it two days and three showers after I returned.] I got my sea-legs back and had a few drinks during the day.  I didn't participate in the Polar Plunge, though, figuring it was something I would not regret if I didn't do it.

I had another nice night beside a roaring fire.  I even played with melting glass in the fire.  After one of the guys left and took his music, I pulled the Buick around and played some stuff for people.  Unfortunately it was already quite late so it wasn't long before we called it a night.  I don't even remember turning off the battery on the car, but I got up later and checked and it was fine.

FrostBurn Day 2

On day two of FrostBurn, I felt pretty hungover. Needless to say [or is it?], I skipped all alcohol today.  My shelter had made it through the night, although there was no reason it should not have.  I spent some time resting inside the shelter and with the heater on, the temperature easily climbed to over 70°F. All my water and soda had frozen so I put it inside the heated "bath house" — thankfully this year, we had access to heated bathrooms.

That was the night of the burn, too.  The guy who made this year's effigy did a great job and burned well.  It really looked like a snowman, too, since the body was made of three multifaceted approximations of spheres.  There was another Jason — "The Jason" — who was the poster boy of the festivities.  He ran around with a bottle of Jameson's in one hand and champagne in another, all the while with a toy monkey on his back.

That night I got to do the official winter shelter experiment: not use the heater.  When I got inside, it was 18°F.  I had calculated that the 84 or so square feet of the R-3.3 "Tuff-Board" stuff would allow the interior temperature to be about 20°F higher than outside with just one person inside (assuming they'd produce about 75 watts of heat).  After an hour or so, the temperature had climbed to 26°F.

That's still really friggin' cold so I turned on the heater and quickly brought the temperature into a more temperate range.

FrostBurn Day 1

Today I headed out from Rochester and drove to Cooper's Lake Campground (205 Currie Rd., Slippery Rock, PA) to attend FrostBurn.  Last year it was during President's Weekend in February but they mentioned that they planned to change it to Martin Luther King weekend this year.  Ali and I realized we'd have to rearrange her mom's annual visit to accommodate the trip — but we forgot and, although I remembered again in November, it was too late.  So, it was just me this year.

The trip out was not bad, except for lake-effect snow around the lake near Buffalo.  I slowed down to 45 MPH or so and was getting frequently passed, but after 80 miles or so I did successfully drive out of it.  I arrived around 4 p.m. or so and got settled in.  The commercial campground where the event is presently held is located on a hill, and the organizers decided to split it up so there were people camped on top and at the bottom. Initially I was placed at the bottom of the hill.  Since I had the rear-wheel-drive Buick Roadmaster, I figured it would be impossible to drive down.  And since I also had a 180-pound base to the winter shelter I made, I really had no desire to try and make that happen either.  Thankfully there were some spaces available at the top so I camped there.  Also, I had access to electrical power: even though my winter shelter was pretty good, the predicted sub-zero temperatures would have been overwhelming without use of the electric heater I had at-the-ready.  As it turned out, I never even got to try it out that night.

Because of the cold — it was, after all, no warmer than 5°F outside — I decided to consume and share the two bottles of homemade wine I brought rather than let them freeze.  I got to meet lots of nice people and check out the whole event. Along the way, I met another Jason who ended up … umm … overdoing it, and ended up in bed early.

By the time all the drinking and debauchery was done, I was leaving the lower section and really don't remember much of what happened.  Based on legend, I became "the guy who passed out in the snow," "almost died," or "got frostbite."  As it turned out, this guy Tony helped me up the hill and let me stay in his heated RV overnight.

So now as you all cluck your tongues and "tsk-tsk", let me add two things.  First of all, I didn't go out with any plan whatsoever to end up passing out.  And second, this event isn't like day-to-day life: it's more like a village or an extended family.  Rather than stepping over somebody passed out, anyone there would have stopped to help.

That said, it got down to -11°F in nearby Slippery Rock, PA and, depending on who you asked, it got as cold as -14°F or -18°F — so there was some real danger of getting injured out there.  Thankfully I had on a full 4 layers on my legs and 6 on my torso along with chemical warmers on my hands and feet that were still working by morning.  For the most part it was pretty comfortable.

Ten Whole Years

As best I can remember and as best I can tell, the first official meeting at O'Bagelo's (165 State St.) happened on January 16, 1999.  So now it's ten years later to the day and, despite not stopping by this weekend, I'm still basically going every week.  It used to be a hub of activity for all my college friends to catch up on the week.  As the years passed, though, friends moved away, or they just stopped coming.  In the interim, I started writing up events for this crazy website and have pretty much kept with it every week.  Looking back, it sure seems like a lot of work.

No Tone at Potential Life Studios

I headed out to the Gallery at Potential Life StudiosMySpace link (34 Elton St.) to check out The No-Tone Party. I got there a little early and got to chat with the folks from the studio — Jeremy and Colleen, I think. They run a nice space for music, art, and performance.

Anyway, the show was primarily organized by Ian DowneyMySpace link and Nuuj. The idea was for musicians to record pop songs that had no appreciable notes. For the most part, the songs pit the two concepts against one another, as if "pop song" and "melody" were opposites. As such, most of the songs were either not very catchy or they included some melodic element. I decided that the closest approximation to the no-tone pop song would be the rhythm of a train: a recognizable and appealing "music". Before I became overwhelmed with tiredness (as I've been going to bed rather early lately) I did hear one song that captured that kind of element.

We'll have to see where this all goes … if it's not a genre unto itself, some version of it will probably start appearing in alternative-rock within a couple years.

Rational Skepticism Without Condescension

On one of the discussion lists I subscribe to, there are frequent questions about "fringe science" — particularly involving energy, since the topic of discussion is "alternative energy". I have yet to receive a message that contained something both revolutionary in scale and backed by science (and likewise, seldom is a topic banal and poorly explained). An example is "eloptic energy" which describes some kind of field around all objects that can theoretically be tapped.

I have trouble describing it in any serious way. Its science begins by neglecting well-explored and well-understood properties of fields — basically that to get energy using a field, you have to put energy in. It's the way generators work (it's the combination of a magnet and a wire moving past one another). Another example might be to use the force of a river to do work by presenting resistance (like in the case of a water wheel). I guess the buzz around eloptic energy is that you don't need to add energy to get the energy out — analogous to working a water wheel while moving with the current of the river … a boat-mounted water wheel, if you will.

But even there, I take a condescending attitude that I can't seem to avoid. I shake my head and roll my eyes, frustrated that I must defend myself against lunacy with rational argument. This feeling of aggravation seems to come from two factors.

First is the misunderstanding or misapplication of science. The basics of the scientific method are to conceive a theory, develop an experiment with measurable, repeatable results, and ascertain whether the experiment supports the theory; then repeat ad infinitum. Everything we claim to know in science is based on a chain of everything we figured out before. It seems that people who entertain pseudo-science theories believe that science is a bureaucratic ivory tower of knowledge sanctioned by self-proclaimed experts. Sometimes bureaucratic, ivory-tower, self-proclaimed experts try to sanction knowledge, but that is not science.

The other is the appropriation of words that have an established meaning to give the illusion of credibility. Words like "energy" have a specific, well-defined meaning, so to use them in relation to something else is nothing less than lying. One example was during a discussion of essential oils (not on the discussion list) where they used "megahertz" as a unit to quantify the relative power of the oils. It was frustrating that nobody else in the room wanted to ask what part of the oil was vibrating (as "megahertz" exclusively means "millions of times per second"), and if it was in the radio-frequency range like the speaker implied, could we tune in a radio to hear it?

Of course, as I wrote before, there is no way to discern an expert from a non-expert in a field that you are not familiar with. In the end, it comes down to whether you believe one person or another. And when it comes to belief, well, there's really no point in arguing.

Doubt at the Little

Ali and I went to The Little (240 East Ave.) to see Doubt. It's a fascinating film which, although obviously different from the play (which neither of us saw), is extremely strong. I suppose it could only help that the film was written and directed by the original playwright, John Patrick Shanley. The story primarily follows Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman), the minister of St. Nicholas in the Bronx in 1964, and Sister Aloysius (Meryl Streep), the principal of the affiliated school. Flynn takes an interest in one of the students: Donald Muller — a black boy in an otherwise all-white school. Sister Aloysius fully believes Flynn molested Donald and intends to ensure he [Flynn — duh] is punished.

The audience is left to their own beliefs to ascertain whether Flynn molested Donald. I found this fascinating, as I maintained his innocence throughout the film but realized afterward that I could experience the film again completely differently by believing he was guilty.

Sister Aloysius is someone who would act to destroy based on their beliefs. I think it's a particular kind of logic that permits this: believing that one's belief alone is more true than having no factual basis — perhaps a manifestation of the nature of faith (although in the case of religious faith, it's more about filling a gap in that which is knowable). The trouble is, there is an element of circular justification: if she succeeds in destroying Flynn's reputation, she feels justified, but by putting her own reputation on the line in making such an accusation, she has no choice but to fight to destroy Flynn's reputation no matter whether he was guilty or not.

Sister James, meanwhile, acts as a foil to Sister Aloysius by believing in the kindness of others. Sister Aloysius' long-time experience as disciplinarian provides her only with evidence of sin and wrongdoing. So is it Sister James' naiveté or Sister Aloysius' limited perspective that is at fault?

For myself, I find that when factual evidence is not available, belief in kindness is the more fruitful path. As is the case with Sister Aloysius, believing more in evil makes you a destructive force in the world whereas believing more in good opens up the possibility of being constructive.

But equally important is that it makes you happier to believe that people are generally kind.

FileMaker Failed to Save the Wrong Version of this Entry About Jesse Sprinkle and Burning Daylight [hooray!]

OK, this one's specifically dedicated to John Lam. Whenever we talk about JayceLand, he frequently comments that I don't blog "properly" — often posting an entry for — say today — on next Wednesday. So this one's for you, John: it's 2:59 a.m. and after the event about which I'm about to blog. …

So I went to Monty's KrownMySpace link (875 Monroe Ave.) earlier. I arrived in time to catch just a song-and-a-half of Jesse SprinkleMySpace link. I liked what I heard, but don't feel confident opining further due to insufficient experience. Next was Burning DaylightGarageBand link who are really swell. Jesse plays drums in this band — and I met lead-singer/guitarist Nick and bassist Tim afterward. I generally stand by my database-stored comment from December 21, 2006 at the Bug Jar: "unremarkable bar-rock except when they get more punk-rock". [No offense, guys: let me qualify …]

I had a great time. I considered heading to The Bug JarMySpace link (219 Monroe Ave.) for the metal and metal-like show featuring (among others) SulacoMySpace link (featuring some friends of mine) but instead, I opted to get a pint or two (or three) at Monty's KrownMySpace link (875 Monroe Ave.) instead and enjoy some, well, bar-rock. Burning DaylightGarageBand link does a fine job with a mix of [mostly] originals and [some] covers in a bar-rock/punk-rock style. I mean, what more can I say? Have you been at a bar where some band was playing and had a drink or two, and noted, "hey, these guys are pretty good."? It's that kind of personal experience that really doesn't carry over well to radio-play or other popular, substantive fame. It's just … well … nice. With notably-sexceptional exceptions like "Black Soul, Black Heart", it's not the kind of thing you're going to get nagging in your head. But that one song can keep you coming back.

Heck, maybe it's whatever it was that Ali and her friend were so impressed that the band played for them. Or maybe it's just that Tim's this kind of faux-Canadian [in the "gosh, aren't those Canadian folks polite and kind" kind of way] Buffalo … umm … resident. Or that I owe Nick, Tim, and Jesse a drink [and $1.33 more each] for giving me their CD (Jesse 2x for supplying his personal-favorite own CD in addition).

In conclusion, thanks: you guys gave me a great time (even despite that poor dude who got carried away by ambulance for whatever reason … at least it wasn't body-bag). So when you're at your regularly-paying day-jobs, know that I thought your time was worth its while. Sure, your songs aren't on 'BER regularly [or are they?: I'm so irritated by the Guisto-inspired BOCES-training-esque 'play what the people want' kind of crap that I barely listen anymore].

But whatever: play live and there's someone there who'll love it.

The Afternoon Before Christmas

Since Christmas is on a Thursday, like in 2003, I'm sure you're all expecting some kind of JayceLand twist on 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, but I'm taking the holiday off.  So my computer is dark — not even a blink from the optical mouse.  [Be glad I'm not going to write any more!]

Anyway, have a great day on Christmas if you're doing anything, and if not, just enjoy the relative quiet and absence of nutjobs racing here and there on the roads like on a typical weekday.

Doing the Mistletoe Mingle

Ali, Christina, and I decided to do the Mistletoe Mingle pub crawl. As it turned out, it wasn't associated with Michael Warren Thomas at all — it was part of The Business Association of the South Wedge Area (BASWA) under the Savor Our Flavor moniker. We started at Little Venice Pizza (742 South Ave., formerly Skippy's) so Christina could get some food in her stomach before drinking; Ali and I had already eaten. From there we started at the north end at The South Wedge Colony Bar and Grill (503 South Ave., formerly Dashen Restaurant) I still have very lukewarm feelings about the place — it just seems so much like a poor imitation of an East Avenue bar; and as such, it wouldn't get better by being a better imitation. We got our first playing card there for the poker contest.

Next we went to Solera Wine BarMySpace link (647 South Ave.) and picked up another card and had a decent glass of wine that was on-special for the crawl. At Lux LoungeMySpace link (666 South Ave.) we figured out the card-marking scheme and devised a way to cheat — the goal was to have the best 5-card poker hand at the last of seven bars. The Beale Street Cafe (689 South Ave.) offered welcome relief as they set up their back restaurant room for the pub crawl and we got a chance to sit down and warm up for a bit. But it was short-lived as we headed for The Tap and Mallet (381 Gregory St.) a half-hour later. Although The Keg (315 Gregory St., behind German House where Rohrbach's used to be) set me up with a half-shot "shot" drink special, at least the band was amusing and there were holiday cookies and stuff.

Caverly's Pub (741 South Ave., formerly Genesee Co-op Credit Union) was our last stop and we paced our drinks well by skipping a few along the way. It turned out our cheating scheme was for naught — Ali had an honest full house which was better than we could have cheated together. Alas, someone else pulled out 5 aces that went unchecked, card-marking-wise. The way I figure it, the odds of getting 5 or more aces from 7 decks is about 399,672:1 against so, although possible, I kind of doubt it was done honestly. Regardless, we had quite a good time.