Stefan Sagmeister at RIT

Posted on 2009-Oct-05 by Jason Olshefsky

I thought 15 minutes was sufficiently early to arrive, but by the time I got to the The Caroline Werner Gannett Project, Ingle Auditorium at RIT (One Lomb Memorial Dr., campus map) was completely full and I had to watch a video-feed with another 60-or-so people in the 1829 Room next door. Designer Stefan Sagmeister was the speaker and he did indeed discuss Design and Happiness. You can get an idea of what the discussion was like through his similar TED lecture from a few years ago: Stefan Sagmeister shares happy design.

As I had expected, the lecture gave me some inspiration. I knew Sagmeister would comment on the tenuous balance of being creative — after all, he closes his design studio for a year in every five years to do non-work-related endeavors.

His observations on happiness reminded me of that which I often forget: that much of happiness is a temporary feeling. He divided it up into three layers: short-lived joy, mid-ranged satisfaction from accomplishment, and long-term fulfillment from pride in one's life. I forget that happiness at one layer is not experienced the same as at other layers: although my life philosophy has generally kept me fulfilled, that does not make me feel joyful in and of itself.

His lecture also reminded me that good design matters. It's good to have a world where we can feel pleasure, and we can feel pleasure from interacting with something well-designed. And by that, I mean everything. Like I think the Frederick Douglass — Susan B. Anthony Memorial Bridge (formerly the Troup-Howell Bridge) is a good design: it carries vehicles across the river just as effectively as a bridge that looks awful, but it has a certain elegance to its design that makes people feel good. On the other hand, The Monroe Community Hospital (435 E. Henrietta Rd.) is apparently having a chain-link fence erected around it: an ugly barrier that says, "we have problems with the likes of you entering our property" and makes people feel bad. And to think that everything in the world can effect a mood like that: wow.

Where is Fred Brown? and the Bogs Visionary Orchestra at Boulder

Posted on 2009-Oct-01 by Jason Olshefsky

I headed to Boulder Coffee Co. (100 Alexander St.) to catch the show there. When I got there, Where is Fred Brown? was already playing. Conceived as a three-piece with John Valenti, Alfred Brown, and Paul Burke, it's temporarily named for the absence of its middle member. They played a great set of melodic trance-snyth. It had this nice dreamlike finish to it. I also stayed for The Bogs Visionary Orchestra who played some excellent "new Americana", so-to-speak: rooted in Americana, but with a modern-rock presence. Unfortunately, the flu I'd been fighting for the past three days was getting the best of me and I didn't stay for Seth Faergolzia.

The Next Revolution

Posted on 2009-Sep-16 by Jason Olshefsky

I think I'm starting to see the boundaries of the next social revolution. Let me lay out a little context of recent references that I believe are related.

First, I talked last year about the "monkeysphere" idea. The basic idea is that our primate brains can only accept about 150 people who we consider part of our clan, tribe, or village, and beyond that, all the other people are equivalent to "things" in the world.

Next is related to things I've seen in discussions about Burning Man and the idea of "community". To me, the notion of "community" is like a lot of words: they are there to provide a spectrum upon which to measure. So when one says, "the community", that is a reference to a specific group of people with traits that tie them together. The thing that is important is that being "in the community" means you have the traits of the community — it does not mean that you must adapt your behavior because of your physical location. In other words, actions cause description; description does not cause action.

Related to that, I recently found a new term: POSIWID. According to Wikipedia at least, Stafford Beer coined the term as an acronym for "[the] purpose of [a] system is what it does". The underlying principle is that the intended function of a system is irrelevant: its purpose (or function) is solely defined by what it does. If, for instance, you set out to create a community of people who share art and resources, you might end up with a big party in the desert: the purpose of that system is a big party in the desert, no matter what your intentions were.

I have observed (especially in the last 10 years) that people I encounter are much more polarized by political party or political views than ever before. It is probably most attributable to whom I hang out with, but I also believe there is a trend. What I mean, specifically, is that I was finding prejudice in myself concerning politics: that I would judge someone favorably or unfavorably solely based on their political party affiliation. I thought this was interesting to observe, and generally not good.

I also see the strong opinions of people concerning socialized health care. Although there many facets to it, the one I find most interesting is the debate on whether an arbitrary stranger should be cared for. I'm neglecting any specifics because you can create straw men to support either side (i.e. abusers of a taxpayer-funded system versus a hard worker who circumstantially loses access to care). The question is: will you help someone you don't know anything about?

So finally, what's this next revolution?: it's how we treat strangers.

I see people lining up along a spectrum. On one side are people who are only willing to help those people they know personally (i.e. who are within their "monkeysphere") at the expense of the well-being of people they don't. On the other are people who willing to support everyone equally, even if that means they may not have resources to help people they know personally.

I think it is more noble to lean toward helping everyone, and a testament to the superiority of humankind. However, I also know that such civility is frail: a small percentage of people working to their own advantage can poison the whole system. All societies have blind-spots and points of leverage for the advantage-seeker, but civility is maintained by the unspoken agreement among people that they not take advantage at those points. And in America, there are socially-acceptable points to find advantage: that permission is specifically what allows capitalism to work.

Anyway, I find myself playing both sides of the fence for the time-being. I have a network of friends who I help freely (with my time, skills, money, and resources) and who will do likewise for me. I also strive for a better solution that is more inclusive because I feel better when my behavior also helps other people.

Pictures from Running

Posted on 2009-Aug-28 by Jason Olshefsky

I went for a run this morning and brought along my camera.

Along the canal path a recently painted note appeared on the trail. I always get a chuckle out of it: it says, "JPL Lock of Love" in a heart with an arrow pointing to the guard lock and the date 7/5/05.

Painted tag on the Canal Path near the west guard lock that says "JPL Lock of Love" in a heart with an arrow pointing to the guard lock and the date 7/5/05.

"Lock of Love" tag that appeared about two weeks ago.

Then I get into Genesee Valley Park (Hawthorn Dr.). I've always appreciated Frederick Law Olmsted's designs for paths to be varied in an ornamental fashion without becoming inefficiently winding.

Heading West in Genesee Valley Park

For months now, I've noticed that nearly every car parking in the lot by Building 520 on The University of Rochester (Elmwood Ave. at Intercampus Dr.) is in a handicapped-accessible parking space. I commend the University for their progressive thinking to hire people of different abilities. Of course, things weren't always that way.

The University of Rochester Building 520 parking lot.

I think it's funny how pervasive cultural norms are. When I say I run barefoot on sidewalks and streets, about 90% of people say, "what about glass?" I seem to be gifted and have an instinct to not step on things. When I run, if I just look toward the ground in front of me, my brain automatically sets my footfalls so I don't step on things — all without thinking about it consciously at all. Of course, when I see glass, I make a deliberate effort to go around it: I'm not concerned that I'll cut myself badly stepping on a big piece, the nearby tiny shards that get stuck in my foot are more likely and terribly irritating.

Broken glass in front of 185 Elmerston.

The Beaumonts at Taste of the Gate at Village Gate

Posted on 2009-Aug-20 by Jason Olshefsky

The other day, I met the drummer for The Beaumonts. He mentioned playing in Hypnotic Clambake and I knew that JoAnn Vaccaro also played with them (among a cast of thousands, I guess) so I had seen him again at the show last weekend. Well, we got to talking about The Beaumonts and Rochester people, and he mentioned that Marianne Buckley would be in town and would be playing with them today. I had known Marianne (and Steve from The Beaumonts) for years — they were among the first people I ever met in Rochester in the "music scene".

So today I'm at Village Gate Square (274 N. Goodman St.) to see the band. I discovered it was an event called Taste of the Gate by a group called Rochester A-List. Their deal is that if you sign up for the mailing list of the "best" events in Rochester and had RSVPed for the Taste of the Gate event, it would have been $10 instead of $15. I gathered that some or all of the money collected went to an adoption service which was there and had a raffle as well.

The event was — I guess — a way for restaurants at Village Gate to showcase their food. California Rollin' at Village Gate Square (274 N. Goodman St.) took it seriously and produced a great number of sushi rolls. Salena's (274 N. Goodman St., at Village Gate), I believe, provided a chicken wing tray with a kind of salsa sauce that was quite good. And although I only hovered near their table for part of the time, as best I can tell, The Gate House (274 N. Goodman St., in the Village Gate; formerly Salena's location) put out two sandwiches and (possibly) a pizza. Nonetheless, the $15 "buffet" wasn't much of a deal for the 200 or so people who were there.

Well anyway, The Beaumonts were excellent. They play a sort of rock with a ska-ish fluidity. Steve's influence in the band is at the forefront, and their CD is (so far) fantastic. Plus, I got to chat with my old pal Marianne — formerly of White Cotton Panties. I wore the T-shirt for the band that I had autographed at Norton's Pub (1730 Goodman St.) or some such place. It's sure been a while …

Ali and I Get to Not See Gaylord at Boulder

Posted on 2009-Aug-13 by Jason Olshefsky

Ali and I stopped by Boulder Coffee Co. (100 Alexander St.) to see Gaylord. When we arrived, the crowd was unusually sparse, but I figured I had just predicted on the wrong end of things: I commented when we were leaving Ali's that if I get there at 8 p.m., the band won't start until 10:30, but if I arrive at 9 p.m., they will have already played — more often than not, it's the latter case. I even checked their chalkboard schedule and Gaylord was listed — I was concerned that I mistakenly arrived at the other, identically named Boulder Coffee Co. (955 Genesee St.)

Well, we waited for an hour or so, but no crowd began to form. In fact, I saw nobody else who I've become acquainted as friends of the guys in the band. I asked at the bar and was told that Gaylord would not be playing. Apparently every other Gaylord fan got the memo.

It would have been helpful if Boulder had updated their website earlier than today: I last checked it yesterday. It would have been courteous if they had a sign at the bar — or, perhaps, offered the information without prompting. In the past, I have found the serving staff (not necessarily the people working this night) to be apathetic at best and downright hostile toward live bands. They'd turn off the "house" music so the band could play only with great reluctance and repeated prompting (sometimes, not at all). They'd be openly negative about nearly every act I've ever seen — usually making snide comments about how much they suck whenever I'd get a drink. And I've never seen them be supportive of unusual requests, like when a performer would like to extend the night for an enthusiastic crowd. To top it off, the start-times of shows tend to vary, and bands appear and disappear from the schedule at an alarming rate.

But you know, it works from a business sense. After all, if I had known beforehand, I probably wouldn't have come down and wouldn't have spent any money. So thumbs-up to you, Boulder. Good job!

Star Trek and The Brothers Bloom at the Cinema

Posted on 2009-Aug-04 by Jason Olshefsky

Ali, Amber, and I went to The Cinema Theatre (957 South Clinton Ave.) to see Star Trek. As you might expect, it's a decent movie and an innovative way to kick-start the franchise once again. Ali and I enjoyed it and I think Amber did too although she had some complaints. Anyway, they left and I stayed for the second feature: a movie I'd heard nothing about called The Brothers Bloom.

Apparently it came-and-went from The Little (240 East Ave.) and possibly corporate screens as well, all with little fanfare. Reviews have been lukewarm at best. My mood was to give it a try at the beginning, and my alternative was to meet Ali out at Lux Lounge (666 South Ave.): a not unattractive option.

Well, I figured I'd hang through the "early days" introduction: two brothers, Stephen and Bloom, had been in-and-out of foster families for quite some time when they stumbled into the notion of playing cons. I didn't know if I was in for a kids movie but I figured I'd linger to the credits. Once the relationship was established, the film heads for 25 years in the future when the brothers are adults, and still con-men.

Ok, so it's hooked me for 10 minutes.

Bloom doesn't want to stick with the game after their last job, but his brother ropes him in it for one more: woo a naive heiress — Penelope — living alone in her parents' estate. She's a handful, though, as she has a surprisingly fierce appetite for adventure (especially considering her apparently self-imposed exile) and she's extremely smart in a myriad of practical and philosophical fields.

Anyway, the movie runs along in a whimsical fairy-tale style. The simple surface conceals a more interesting philosophical bent: is it valuable to plan ahead? As such, the story — largely led by the plan crafted by Stephen — leads Bloom and Penelope on what should be a romantic and bond-forming adventure. But it's only in the fringe deviations from said plan that those things actually occur. I've found it's pretty much the same in life: it's no the planned trip to Chimney Bluffs State Park (7700 Garner Rd., Wolcott) that I remember as much as it is when Lucy ran her hysterical orbits through the muddy waters along the trail. It's the unplanned moments that make things worthwhile.

So … why plan?

And I think that's what The Brothers Bloom is getting at. To speak in music reviewer parlance, it's sort of Hudson Hawk meets Adaptation. meets The Adventures of Baron Munchausen: the lighthearted comedy and uneven production of the first, with the film-as-life-as-film metaphor of the second, and the attention to detail and understanding of fantasy of the third. It's not the best movie ever, but definitely worth a visit … hang in there the few times it really lags, and just have a good time with it.

Vacation to Acadia National Park

Posted on 2009-Jul-26 by Jason Olshefsky

In case you hadn't already noticed, there was no blog activity last week, and the events list might have been a little more erroneous than usual. The reason was that Ali and I left on July 18 and headed to my parents' house in Schenectady, my friends Jan and Shannon in New Hampshire, Acadia National Park (State Highway 3 and Paradise Hill Rd., Bar Harbor, ME) for 3 days, Ali's friend in Boston, a brief stop at my parents' again, and back home on the 25th.

Naturally, when we got to Schenectady, we got a late lunch/early dinner at Jumpin' Jack's Drive-In (5 Schonowee Ave., Scotia) for their highly prized fast food. Afterward, we took a drive out to Frosty Acres (150 Skyline Dr., Schenectady) which is a local campground that I've seen signs for since I was a kid. By the time we left, we dubbed it "Shady Acres" — not only was the site that was recommended for us to check out a mud pile (and $25 per night), the clientÃ¨le was a mix of people residing there and/or passing through with no other living options. In essence: a bit of a rough crowd. Topping it off was the strict, literal enforcement of the 51â„2 mile-per-hour speed limit. We ended up staying on the land in back of my parents' house, giving us a chance to fully test the tent and its set-up and take-down.

On Sunday we left for New Hampshire; this time taking the Turnpike through Massachusetts and forgoing the scenic, slower, and shorter trip through Vermont and New Hampshire. We hung out with Jan and Shannon, and my friends John and Michelle visited from Boston as well. We stayed through Tuesday before heading out to Maine.

Despite the rain, we decided to continue with the plan of following scenic Route 1. We got off Route 95 (which I guess now is 295 as 95 is now the toll road once known as 495 … thanks, Maine) at Freeport. We stopped at Classic Custard (150 Lower Main St., Freeport, ME) and had a hearty snack before continuing into town to visit L. L. Bean (10 Depot St., Freeport, ME) … I mean, how can you not, especially on a camping trip? I can only assume that L. L. Bean was there first and the shopping nightmare of "outlet" stores cropped up sometime later, but at least their store was competent … in my opinion, not worth a trip out of your way, but if you're a fan, it's worth it to at least stop.

Anyway, travel was excruciatingly slow and Route 1 is not nearly as scenic as it implies. That said, it's far more interesting a drive than Rt. 95, but the time cost is pretty high. We arrived at Acadia National Park (State Highway 3 and Paradise Hill Rd., Bar Harbor, ME) around 8 p.m. in steady rain. We decided to sleep in the Roadmaster after putting the coolers outside. Ali also wanted to get some dinner more substantial than the snacks we had; she settled for cheese and wine. We also got a chance to check out a Ranger lecture on the geology of the area at the park's outdoor amphitheater, giving us a taste of just how engaging the park really is. The rain kept the crowd light and most of us joined the Ranger on the covered stage. The rain got heavier as we left and we were confined to the car for the night.

Wednesday proved to be much better. We got the tent set up and had breakfast at camp. We took the "free" [paid for by our $20 car fee and L. L. Bean; once again] shuttle from the campground to nearby Bar Harbor. We signed up to go to Baker Island on Friday through The Bar Harbor Whale Watch Co. (1 West St., Bar Harbor, ME) — apparently a family of 12 lived on the remote island some considerable distance from shore during the 1800's. We stopped by Alone Moose (78 West St., Bar Harbor, ME) and chatted with the owner Sherry, stopping at the gallery upstairs, The Gallery Upstairs (78 West St., Bar Harbor, ME) to check out works by J. Stan Mason that greatly appealed to me.

Sherry recommended The West Street Cafe (76 West St., Bar Harbor, ME) which was excellent — and refreshingly inexpensive. I had the Cafe Special which was lobster and shrimp tossed with mushrooms over linguine; Ali had the lobster special which included a 1 pound lobster, clam chowder, and a slice of blueberry pie which we shared á la mode. Everything was excellent, and with 2 local beers, we barely cracked $50.

We headed back to our campsite then walked to Sand Beach — pretty much the only substantial traditional beach in Acadia, and a place where you can go swimming. The water temperature is claimed to be around 50°F, and I believe most adults (like Ali and I) experience pain from cold by letting the water wash over our feet. However, I couldn't resist playing in the ocean as it's so rare that we get there, so I used the technique the Ranger from last night suggested: run at full speed into the water. It turned out to be not as bad as first expected, and I stayed in for the better part of an hour; my body apparently adjusted much better to total immersion.

We used the park shuttle once more to get back to camp. I couldn't get much of a fire started, but neither could anybody as everything was so damp. We ended up eating what we could cook on the camp stove instead. I stayed up for a while trying, but I never could get the wood to stop boiling off water enough to ignite.

Thursday was also a nice day. We hiked up Beehive: one of the small mountains in the area, although much of the climb is quite steep. So much so, in fact, that iron rungs were installed to assist along the trail when it went vertical. The climb isn't all that high — only 500 feet or so — but it does yield a dramatic view of the coastline. There's also an easier trail that leads through the woods past Bowl Lake which was startlingly serene.

The park shuttles transfer at Bar Harbor's town square, so we spent some time once again there. We had another good meal at The Thirsty Whale Tavern (40 Cottage St., Bar Harbor, ME): I with a fish fry club sandwich (fried haddock, bacon, lettuce, tomato), and Ali with a lobster roll (big pieces of lobster held together with a bit of mayonnaise). We shopped for souvenirs and provisions: particularly, fire-starting sticks such that I might be able to get a fire going that would be capable of cooking something.

We decided to get ice cream and Ali joked that was going to get lobster ice cream so I said if they had it, she'd have to get it. As it turned out, Ben and Bills Chocolate Emporium (66 Main St., Bar Harbor, ME) had lobster ice cream and it wasn't all bad, although I let her off the hook and just forced her to taste it. We also stopped by The Bar Harbor Brewing Company (8 Mount Desert St., Bar Harbor, ME) which we'd had at the West Street Cafe and picked up a sampling of brews.

We got back later than we wanted, but still with plenty of daylight. I set to getting the fire started which went much better with the fire-starting sticks, but the wood was still too wet to yield good coals to cook over. We used it anyway, and had steak tips and corn for dinner along with some beer. We decided also to take down the tent as it was supposed to rain that night into Friday. And it did: starting around 2 a.m., waking us with its drumming on the roof of the car.

Friday was the day of the cruise to Baker Island, and we had set alarms to get up on time. No shuttles run that early, so we drove to Bar Harbor around 7 a.m., leaving the waterproof items behind for the time-being. We had a mediocre breakfast at Jordan's Restaurant (80 Cottage St., Bar Harbor, ME), forgetting that in most areas, diners are a "theme" restaurant and as such, expensive. Ali couldn't get over the fact that an unassuming vegetable-and-cheese omelette ran $11 … I almost had to take away her placemat menu! Further, the ship to the island was cancelled due to dangerously rough seas.

Instead, we decided to drive around the park loop. We drove up Cadillac Mountain — the highest peak on the Atlantic Coast north of Brazil — although it was essentially a steep grade in a blanket of fog and rain yielding a view of the sides, tops, and bottoms of clouds. We got back to camp and the rain had subsided as much as it was that day so we packed up and headed out.

We had our eyes out for those famous Maine blueberries. We stopped at a farm stand but the berries in the area were still too tart. Nonetheless, the guy also baked pies and had a blueberry one in the oven right then. Ali wanted it but I didn't want to wait for it to cool. After much disagreement, we finally decided to get it: as it turned out, it would cool fine in the car even if it wasn't perfectly level (it wasn't going to slop out as I thought). We made our way through Maine on I-95 (the new one, including the toll part) and hit Boston right at 5 p.m. The remaining 10 miles to Ali's friend's place took another hour and a half, but we ended up having a really nice time.

Saturday we got up and hit the road, stopping one last time to visit the ocean. We got to Schenectady by 4 p.m. and arrived at Ali's parent's at 8 p.m. to pick up our dog, Lucy. By 10 p.m. or so, we were all done and ready to take some time off to recuperate.

I was kind of expecting Acadia National Park to be like Stony Brook State Park (10820 State Route 36, Dansville), but alas, it's more like Yellowstone National Park (Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho) — only smaller in size. It would probably take a month to hike all the trails, attend all the Ranger discussions, and otherwise sample the whole place; much longer to savor it; and much longer than that to know it. I greatly enjoyed the "fractal effect" — that you could look at a grand-scaled wonder, then at the lay of the land and its geological history, then at the vegetation and stones nearby, then at the individual plants and the details in the individual pieces of stone, then at the lichens and mosses and their diversity — each time, there is something interesting to catch your eye.

Bad News, Good News For Fans of Paola's

Posted on 2009-Jul-13 by Jason Olshefsky

Ali and I stopped by Paola's Burrito Place (1921 South Ave., formerly Big Dog's Hots) for dinner. There's only two weeks left before they close to move back home for personal reasons. The good news, though, is that the owners plan to return to Rochester and open a new restaurant by next year. The new place will have a slightly different theme and — hopefully — more hired staff so they don't have to spend every waking hour doing all the work.

Ali, Lucy, and I Visit Chimney Bluffs

Posted on 2009-Jul-12 by Jason Olshefsky

Ali and I took the 50-mile drive to Chimney Bluffs State Park (7700 Garner Rd., Wolcott) for the afternoon with our dog, Lucy. The park is really nice and interesting: a moderately challenging [and, at this time, incredibly muddy], 1-mile trail that climbs to the top of alien-looking "earthen spires". It's a peculiar treasure around here: I have yet to mention it to someone who already knew about it.

On the way back, we stopped for dinner at Orbaker's Drive-In (4793 State Route 104, Williamson) which is this great burger joint that's been there forever. Ali knew of it — being an aficionado of sauce-laden burgers — and rates it very highly. While not quite worth a trip from anywhere, it's not that far if you're already out 104 on the east side.