Wise Words...

Tom Petty - one of my all time favorite musicians:
http://men.msn.com/articlees.aspx?cp-documentid=760883

Rocky Anderson - mayor of Salt Lake City:
http://www.slcgov.com/mayor/speeches/2006%20speeches/SPdemonstration83006.pdf

I'm off to Spain for a day and a half...

JE

Small World #637...

One cool thing about the big trade shows is that I get to see friends from my old companies. The pro audio world is actually very small, and the same group of engineers seem to circulate around the different companies. There are people at four or five different companies that I stop by to visit when the trade show circus comes to town.

Last Saturday, Heather and I were out in London. We were doing some shopping, visited a museum, and took a walk though Hyde Park. As we were heading back to the nearest tube station, I heard my name called from the crowd. At first I did not recognise the person, since he had lost his pony tail and also lost some weight since I had last seem him. Eventually it dawned on me that it was one of my old bosses from SLC. He had just arrived in London for the trade show and was out for a walk trying to stay awake. The chances of running into someone you know in London are very slim, even if you both live in the city, but to run into someone who is visiting from another country is really bizarre.

It reminded me of when we were on our “honeymoon road-trip”. We were in the gift shop at Mount Rushmore and we ran into Heather’s sister in law. We had no idea that she was going to be there. It was definitely a strange place to run into someone you know.

The interesting thing about that kind of meeting is how long it takes to recognise a person out of context. When you take someone that you know well in one place and you put them in another place, it somehow seems to distort their features. It’s like the places we live, work and reside are an integral part of who we are, and when we move to another different location, we are changing part of ourselves. Enough rambling…

JE

More MP3 Woes...

I am sure that many of you who take the time to read this blog are sick of me complaining about MP3s, but I am duty bound to keep fighting against this audio abomination. Let me first try to explain why I get so worked up about this issue. My main gripe is that MP3s are “dumbing down” people’s audio expectations. The sound of quality recordings is destroyed when they are compressed into MP3s. As you know, I design audio equipment for a living, and I spend hours measuring, listening, and tweaking each design to provide the best sounding end product. Obviously the thought of “ugly” audio being pumped through my precious designs is quite upsetting. I also spend a lot of time recording music (though not as much as I would like). Again, hours are spent performing, recording, mixing and tweaking to come up with the best sounding piece of music possible. Obviously the thought of this music then being stripped of its vitality in the form of an MP3 is very discouraging. And the saddest thing about the whole issue is that I am sure people are forgetting how good music can really sound.

This week I went to a big Pro Audio trade show in London. While I was looking at all of the shiny new toys, someone asked if I would like to listen to “the world’s best sounding headphones”. Of course I was very excited by this opportunity. The headphones were plugged into an ipod nano. I sat down and selected a track that I recognised. After about 5 seconds of being assaulted by a wretched MP3 sound I pulled the phones off my head. “Is this an MP3 I am listening to?” I demanded of the salesman. “Yes, it is.” He replied sheepishly. I went on to explain that they surely could not expect to demo “the world’s best sounding headphones” using MP3 files. I also explained that you can store wav files (uncompressed audio) on an ipod, so there really was no need. The better quality the audio components used to reproduce a sound, the more obvious the artefacts and deficiencies of the compressed audio source will be. And with these headphones the music was absolutely unlistenable.

JE

Willesden Green

Since moving to the UK, Heather and I have started a new ritual of collecting all of the lost change that we can find. It’s amazing how much money is lying around. I’m not talking about money in our house or car, but money on the street, on the floor in shops, or in train stations. Every September, we count up the “found money” and put it towards a nice dinner out. To add to the thrill of finding the money, we have a special piggy bank that we put the money in when we find it.

We have named this pig, Willesden Green. Heather started the insanity. One of the underground lines that she takes to work terminates at the Willesden Green station. The recorded announcement states, “This train terminates at Willesden Green”. It is said in this wonderful sing-song English accent, with the pitch going up on the “Willesden” and back down again on the “Green”. So now when money is found it is appropriate to repeat the “Willesden Green” mantra.

There was a bit of a sad incident this year. After taking the money from the pig, I pushed his cork back in, and he split in half! He broke into two almost symmetrical pieces. I couldn’t believe it had happened; it was almost as if Willesden was protesting the removal of the money that he had been holding for us all year. I promptly glued him back together again before Heather got home, knowing how upset she would be if she saw Willesden Green split into two pieces. This year we had a grand total of £27.29, a total that I had almost guessed exactly (my prediction was £27.32).

The second part of the story goes like this. Back in the old days, when we lived in SLC, we had a favourite restaurant. We would go to this restaurant every Friday, almost without fail. In the summer, and when the weather was nice, we would walk (it was almost 3 miles from our house). The restaurant, on the corner of 1500 east and 1500 south, is called Mazza. It is a Lebanese restaurant and it is owned by one of the nicest guys I have ever met (unfortunately, he is not so nice that he would give us his recipes before we moved). Every week, I would order the same thing, the chicken kabob sandwich with a side of hummus. And when I was extra hungry, I would get a side of fries too. It is almost impossible to put the beauty of this sandwich into words. It has big chunks of tender chicken, delicately spiced, skewered and then roasted over an open flame. It has fresh tomatoes, and Mazza’s own special pickles. It is put together on a toasted French roll, and seasoned with a beautiful pink aioli sauce. I would dip this beautiful sandwich into the rich smooth hummus that I got on the side. Heather, also being a creature of habit, would get the same thing every week. Her drugs of choice included a large side of baba ganoush, and a large side of potato harra. Baba ganoush is a spicy, smoky dip made from egg plant and potato harra is a fried potato dish consisting of chunks of potatoes, Anaheim chillies, garlic and a slew of other magical spices. Since moving to England, there has been a void in our hearts and stomachs where Mazza once resided.

This void may have finally been filled. Heather is moving to a position at a new library and this library happens to be in a neighbourhood filled with Middle-Eastern restaurants, one of these restaurants happens to be a Lebanese restaurant called Balbac. When this restaurant was discovered, it was a no-brainer that this was to be the place where we would spend our “Willesden Green” money. One of the beauties of this restaurant is that it is remarkably affordable for London, so our £27 really went a long way. The waiter / cook must have been astonished by the amount of food that we ordered (and then promptly consumed). Since it was a special occasion, and our first time in this restaurant, we really went all out. And although the dishes weren’t quite up to the incredibly high standards set by Mazza, they were all really good. We ordered: a falafel sandwich, a chicken kabob sandwich (almost identical to the on at Mazza except it was in a wrap instead of French roll), baba ganoush, potato harra, hummus, fries, and Lebanese salad. Our table was completely covered with plates of food and we were left with £7 in change! We may not make it to the restaurant every week since it is in NW London and we live in SE London, but we will be dining there often and London will feel a bit more like “home”.

JE

Very Sad News

I woke to very sad news today. While I was eating breakfast, I heard on the news that Steve Irwin, the croc hunter had died. He was stung through the heart by a stingray strike to the chest. I couldn't finish my frosted flakes after hearing about it.

In recent years, I hadn't been watching his shows so much, but I remember when I first discovered him. I thought him completely insane and hilarious. True, his methods were a bit unorthodox and controversial, but there is no denying how much he loved all animals, and his work has benefited multitudes of weird and wonderful creatures.

As a tribute to him, I want to list some of his quotes that have become a part of my daily vocabulary...

"Danger, danger, food response!" - Used by Steve when being chased down by a komodo dragon. I use it often when a plate of food is placed before me and promptly devoured. I also like to use the shortened version, "danger, danger", when someone in the house may be in a particularly bad mood.

"Don't bite me in the face! Don't bite me between the legs either!" - Used by Steve when confronted by a rattlesnake. I don't really have a good application for this particular quote, I just like to say it every once in a while.

"Dragon poo!" - Used by Steve when tracking komodo dragons. Used by me to describe the cat's litter box.

"You're alright mate!" - Often used by Steve when holding a flailing snake by the tail. Used by me to calm my dog when she is freaking out during a thunder storm, or any time anyone seems to be getting unnecessarily upset about something.

The baby croc noise. Impossible to replicate here, but still one of my favorite croc hunter moments. He was holding a baby croc, mimicking it, and explaining how it was a distress call to his mother. I like to use this noise now to commiserate with people who are whining too much.

I'll miss you Steve.

JE