I attended a soccer game

Happy 4th of July. My wife genuinely wanted me to attend a Crew game despite knowing that soccer is squarely on the bottom of my bucket list.[1] I agreed to go to the game and promised not to complain (and I didn’t) as long as I was allowed to answer questions honestly, which led to extremely judicious questions. The MLS’s[2] Columbus Crew play in a beautiful new soccer-specific stadium, which is about a ten-minute walk from our condo. The walk was pleasant with the crowd flowing smoothly, joyously, enthusiastically anticipating the game.

Once the game started, my confirmation bias engine was running full tilt. It took 30 seconds to reach fruition, maybe 32 seconds. I’m not kidding, within the first half minute, a Philadelphia Union player went to the ground and starting flopping like a proverbial fish out of water. I have seen baseball players get hit the face with a 90+ mile an hour fastballs.  They don’t flop.  I have seen football players get hit so hard they had to leave the game never to return. They don’t flop. I have seen boxers get knocked into concussion protocol.  They don’t flop.  But man o man can soccer players flop. This guy flopped so beautifully, so artistically that the ref decided to give a yellow card even as the replay showed that there had been essentially no contact. The player who flopped so outrageously did not leave the match, they rarely do.

Then they played soccer as they often do, without any sense of urgency. The ball is as likely to be passed backwards as forwards. It rarely leads to progress, but the sense of control is (apparently) a reward unto itself. We watched all 90 minutes and saw seven shots on goal. For those without a calculator, that’s a shot on goal every 12.8 minutes. There were an additional 13 shots not on goal. My estimate-o-meter suggests that the average miss was 10 feet. Ten feet!!! A single air-ball in a basketball game (where the goal is 18 inches in diameter) and a visiting player will be mocked for the rest of the game. Missing a shot in soccer by 10 or 20 feet (where the goal is 24 feet wide and 8 feet high) = whatever, just another missed shot.

There was one penalty kick, which I had just been reading about in Think Like a Freak.[3] Statistics reveal that a penalty kick is successful 75% of the time. To have a legitimate chance to make a save, the goalie must guess and jump to one side or the other. They jump to the kicker’s strong side[4] 57% of the time and to the weak side almost 41% of the time. But – you say – those numbers don’t add up to 100. That’s because 2% of the time, the goalie doesn’t move at all and that’s because 17% of shots are aimed right at the center of the goal. (Those shots are 7% more likely to succeed than shots to the corners. Dubner and Levitt did the math, not me.) In the event, the shooter went to his weak side, the goalie guessed right, and the kick was shunted aside. He should have shot up the middle.

Before the game I was asked and predicted that the final score would be 1-0 Crew, the home team. Alas, I was wildly optimistic about how many goals would be scored. But I made the correct guess. According to bettingoffers.org.uk, which I didn’t look at until today, “the most common scoreline is 1-0 for either side,” 17.6% of all games, with the home team winning roughly 60% of the 1-0 games.

The game ended in a nil-nil draw, which purists probably love. Over 7% of English Premier League (the highest ranked league in the world) games end 0-0. Almost 49% of EPL games end with 2 or fewer total goals.

I’m never going to be a soccer fan. The last game I attended was my son’s final game during his senior year of high school in 2013. That nine plus year gap between games feels about right to for me. Nevertheless, I have a few positive takeaways from last night – other than the most obvious, spending quality time with my wife:

1. Fountain drinks come with free refills (though ice was hard to come by),

2. The post-game fireworks were a Fourth of July treat, and

3. It’s going to be another ten years or so before I can reasonably be expected to attend a soccer game.

For the record, please don’t try to convert me. It’s a lost cause. (Soccer doesn’t need me, it’s the most popular sport in the world.) I love baseball and know lots of people who don’t. That’s their prerogative and I never try to convince them otherwise. Because for them, they are not wrong. Equally, I am not wrong about soccer. And after last night, I have proven conclusively that I love my wife more than I dislike soccer. I did the math on that one myself.


[1] See 6.4.19 post of the blog for my version of a bucket list, spoiler alert: it’s a reverse bucket list.  I once met a friend at a pub to watch a world cup game and famously (no), notoriously (nope), petulantly (yea, that’s it) sat with my back to the game the entire time. The beer was good nice and cold.

[2] Major League Soccer is the 16th ranked league in the world according to https://www.globalfootballrankings.com/, slightly worse than the Swiss league (population 8.6 million) and slightly better than the Danish league (population 5.8 million).

[3] The book is by Stephen D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner. They are outstanding writers and thinkers and I highly recommend two other books they wrote together: Freakonomics and Superfreakonomics.

[4] The strong side is the side away from the kicking foot. So – if you are right-footed, generally you will have more power and accuracy kicking to the left.

Quick comment on MLB divisions

We’re a little more than 40% of the way into the major league baseball season. The statistics and records are starting to matter.

I noticed today that four of the five teams in the American League East (ALE) division have more wins than losses. Two other divisions, the National League West and the NLE have three teams with more wins than losses. That’s hard to do by the end of the year because almost half of games are played within a division – and, of course, the winning percentage within a division is exactly .500.  For every division game, one team wins and one teams loses, for a net nothing for the division, though (again), of course, it is a net positive or negative for the teams involved.

I decided to do some quick math. I don’t think it proves anything, but it is interesting, and if I don’t post this tonight, the information will be obsolete by morning.

DivisionWinsPayrollMillions
(millions)per win
ALE1916773.54
NLW1817674.24
NLE1737534.35
ALW1575753.66
ALC1545493.56
NLC1525513.63

As you can see, the ALE has more wins than any other division. The NLW is a clear second and the NLE is a clear third. The other three divisions (the AL west and both central divisions) are clumped together, at a significantly lower level, in both wins and total payroll.

Total team payroll is wildly uneven. The Los Angeles Dodgers spend the most, with a payroll in excess of $289 million. The Pittsburgh Pirates spend the least, a bit under $38 million. This disparity is impossible in the other three big leagues in our country (NFL, NBA, and NHL), because each of those leagues has a salary cap and a salary floor.

Here’s the really interesting takeaway: the (so far) clearly best division, the ALE, does not spend more per win than the three worst divisions. That is amazing – and subject to change.

The ALE is comprised of perennial spending juggernauts like the Yankees ($198 million) and Red Sox ($182 million), who are followed closely by the Blue Jays ($166 million). The ALE also has two teams who are usually at the bottom of team payroll: the Rays ($86 million) and the Orioles ($45 million, just above the sad sack Pirates). (All salary information is from one of the greatest websites of all time: baseball-reference.com.) The ALE’s overall spending is basically half-way between the high spending NLW and NLE and the other three divisions. (Flyover country – the two central divisions – almost always spend less money than the “coastal” divisions.)

What to make of this:  not too much, though I do feel sorry for the Orioles. They have a decent record, with 30 wins against 38 losses, and they play in the toughest division and have a miniscule payroll. I wonder what their record would be if they were in a weak division?

It’s not quite July and the season isn’t yet half over. But so far, game results suggest that the ALE teams are spending their money wisely and that the NLW and NLE teams may be overpaying, but at least they are getting wins.

Re-reading

Scholars don’t agree on what the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus said or wrote about rivers. He might have said “on those who step into the same rivers, different and ever different waters flow down,” or “we both step and do not step in the same rivers,” or “it is not possible to step into the same river twice.” [1] But there is little dispute about the modern spin we put on his words. We believe that he said: “no man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man,”[2] or something similar.

As with rivers, so with books. Every time you re-read one, it and you are different. Here are a few of the many quotes about re-reading by literary greats:

Oscar Wilde – If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.[3] [Makes it difficult to assess upfront whether to read any given book]

Umberto Eco – I think a book should be judged 10 years later, after reading and re-reading it.[4] [Not great for an author, he should have said you can’t judge my book without reading my other books.]

C.S. Lewis – Re-reading, we always find a new book.[5] [Here is the main point.]

I sought the quotes after recently re-reading two pieces of fiction that I first read many years ago. It was a good experience, though to be honest, I knew it would be. I have re-read dozens of books through the years. Frankly, a couple of times I re-read a book without realized that’s what I was doing.

The concept of re-reading being a valuable experience has been done to death – see the articles listed in the footnote for a sampling, so I’ll not belabor the point.[6] Instead, I’ll talk about my experiences.

I have purposely re-read the Lord of the Rings multiple times (see Wilde quote). I don’t seek new meaning, which is good because the book is little more than a fun romp through a fantasy world. But sometimes I find lines that resonate more than they did on prior readings. For example, in the Fellowship of the Ring, the hobbits and Strider were searching for Rivendell, a glorious well-hidden Elf realm, and being hunted by “the Nine,” extremely powerful, if dead, beings. When the elves realized what was happening, they dispatched help: “There are few even in Rivendell who can ride openly against the Nine; but such as there were, Elrond sent out North, West, and South.” [7] I want to know more about the awesomeness of those elves, yet we learn nothing else about them, not even their names.

More recently, I re-read The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy for the first time in 40 or so years. The story of Ilyich’s confrontation with the bitter finality of impending death strikes a bit closer to home for a man whose sons have graduated from college than it did when that man was a college student. I am definitely not the same man as when I fulfilled a requirement for some long-forgotten literature class.

It’s a short compelling novella, which well rewards the reader. Tolstoy sets the stage, describes the characters, and infuses them with heart and soul in a way that few other authors can. With Tolstoy, even though you are reading, you feel what is happening, much the way you feel a song like Rhythm of the Heat as much as you hear it.[8]

I also recently re-read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair. After I explain, you may think that I “re-read” The Jungle. The format of The Jungle that I re-read is a graphic novel, which was adapted and illustrated by Kristina Gehrmann. A graphic novel is “a novel whose narrative is related through a combination of text and art, often in comic-strip form.”[9] Have you ever read one?  They aren’t comic books, well, sorta. Still, you should consider reading one.

I wouldn’t recommend a serious reader to experience The Jungle for the first time by reading a graphic novel, too much nuance and description is missing. But if you have read the book, if you already know the story, if you don’t want to devote a week or more to learning the gory details of the meat industry as it was existed 120 years ago, then a graphic novel is a great way to go.

Much is lost, but most remains. The difficult circumstances for immigrants and the gratuitous venality of the business owners are manifest. The horror of knowing that someone is taking advantage of you and that there is nothing you can do about is patent. Many details are conveyed in the illustrations, which bring the characters and surroundings to life without a surfeit of words.

Most of the graphic novels that I have read are independent entities, not derivatives. Berlin, a graphic novel by Jason Lutes, evokes the feel and flavor of the Weimar Republic much quicker than reading any of the many historical texts about that period. The same goes for 300 by Frank Miller, which tells the tale of the Spartans at Thermopylae.

Graphic novels aren’t necessarily grounded in history. The Watchmen series, by Alan Moore, describes a world with alternate superheroes, which contrast sharply with the heroes from the Marvel and DC universes, in both skills and personality. (They are strange.) Another bizarre world was created by Brian Vaughan: Y, the Last Man, in which a geneticist wakes up and realizes that he is the last male on earth.

Whether approaching a new world for the first time or re-engaging with an old book (for example, Fahrenheit 451), a graphic novel is a terrific way to both read and not read a story.


[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heraclitus

[2] https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/heraclitus_107157

[3] https://quotepark.com/quotes/783556-oscar-wilde-if-one-cannot-enjoy-reading-a-book-over-and-over-a/

[4] https://www.theguardian.com/books/2011/nov/27/umberto-eco-people-tired-simple-things

[5] https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/470196-read-and-re-read—re-reading-we-always-find-a-new-book

[6] https://the-artifice.com/reread-books-pros-cons-rereading/; https://www.mindjoggle.com/10-books-worth-reading-again/; https://www.theatlantic.com/books/archive/2022/01/critically-acclaimed-books-atwood-ishiguro/621287/.

[7] Chapter 12.

[8] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpqJxb_pNTM. Listen through the end to hear an especially compelling drum sequence (it’s half the song). Tip – turn it up as loud as you can tolerate.

[9] https://www.ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=graphic%20novel

Scott Galloway

Scott Galloway is ubiquitous. He appears is so many media that I can’t avoid him, not that I’m trying to. My introduction to him was in May 2018, when I read his book The Four.[1] It predisposed me to like him, so when a friend suggested that I listen to his podcast, I embraced the opportunity.

His podcast is called The Prof G Pod (Galloway invariably refers to his podcast as a “pod”) and comes in four chunks. The most consistently interesting is his lead-in. Each podcast starts with him riffing on some (usually) business subject. He is a professor of marketing at the New York University Stern School of Business[2] and has an irreverent take on many topics. For instance, he considers Mark Zuckerberg, the most dangerous man in the world. He talks about big issues that are occurring, like covid and its impact on markets, on issues that should happen, like Peloton being acquired by Nike, or, well, really on just about any subject that strikes his fancy and impacts the financial world.

The most inconsistent piece of the show is also the largest: his interviews. Some are outstanding, best of breed. I especially like it when he discusses global issues with experts like Ian Bremmer, whose big picture look at the world is sensible and well informed. Another especially good one was with Dr. Sanjay Gupta about the lessons that we have or should learn from the covid-19 pandemic. But some are a bit too much in the weeds for me. He recently discussed the psychedelics industry – really, it’s an industry. And he often has guests who are involved in the crypto or NFT (non-fungible token) space, which is interesting writ large, but not when they delve into technical aspects of the technology.

The third part of the podcast is Office Hours. As any self-respecting professor should, he accepts, indeed encourages, questions and he answers them (according to him) impromptu. This part of the podcast is so popular that it has been spun into its own entity, so the podcast now has only three parts with the Office Hours chunk produced and available separately. More Galloway pod for the same money – none.

The final part of the podcast is the Algebra of Happiness, when Galloway talks about some aspect of personal life and its importance to general well-being. He is clearly devoted to his two sons and often asks guests about ways to be a better parent. Another fixture is to ask guests what advice they would give their younger selves. Niall Ferguson had two especially good answers: listen to young people (because they get trends) and read more.

That’s just the podcast. He also has Chart of the Week,[3] which highlights many different issues, including religiosity, college enrollment, love, and covid. The only problem with “chart” is that is comes with a mandatory (if short) video that explains the chart. I just want the charts, which invariably present interesting information.

He has another podcast Pivot that he co-hosts with Kara Swisher. I haven’t listened to that one – there are only so many podcast hours in a week. Chartable says they “make bold predictions, pick winners and losers, and bicker and banter like no one else.”[4]    

And he has newsletters and speaking engagements. And classes.  And No Mercy/No Malice.[5] He really is everywhere, including recently being added to the staff at CNN, which describes him as “a serial entrepreneur, business professor, and bestselling author.”

And I don’t think he does it for the money. I mean, sure he gets paid. But he has what he describes as independent wealth from various business ventures. This enables him a certain level of freedom, which he takes advantage of. He attacks any perceived injustice, but reserves much of his disdain for higher education, which he described as “one of the most corrupt cartels in the world.” He doesn’t tell us who else is on the list.

He believes the goal of higher education should be to expand opportunities, which makes sense to me. He does that himself by teaching at NYU and offering classes at Section4, his start-up that “is here to equip curious, ambitious thinkers with the business know-how they need to excel.”[6] And Galloway excoriates elite schools for not expanding opportunities, calling them “halo” or luxury brands and “ossified.” And he believes that the companies that hire their graduates “fetishize” the top 100 colleges and universities. He is nothing if not irreverent.

Galloway has many tics, most of which are endearing. For instance, when a guest has raised an intriguing argument, he prods them with “say more.” And he likes to say “if it sounds like I don’t know what I’m talking about, trust your instincts,” “if it sounds like a commercial, trust your instincts.” I agree that there is wisdom in trusting your instincts.

And through it all, the many venues and products for delivering content, Galloway offers up plenty of gems. For example: “The good news is I know how to get you rich. The bad news is slowly” and “if you aren’t paying and you aren’t the customer, then you are the product.” There is much to be learned, from both host and guest. Steve Schmidt described a way to make decisions, called the OODA loop – which stands for observe, orient, decide, and act. Galloway himself defines the valuation of a publicly traded companies as 70% narrative plus 30% numbers.

And finally, Galloway is self-deprecating to the core. He frequently comments on his youthful (and not so youthful) follies and says things like “I’m just getting started, elevator up, then elevator down. I don’t know what I mean by that.” And he describes his own forays into startups (and those of many others) as suffering from a proximity bias, meaning that rich white guys solve rich white guy problems because those are the problems they are most familiar with (think concierge health care).

Scott Galloway is informative, entertaining, and available is a format that is just right for you.  I recommend that you give him a chance to educate you.


[1] I wrote about the book on June 9, 2018 – see The Four is a great book — https://www.notesfromnokomis.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=844&action=edit&calypsoify=1

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scott_Galloway_(professor)

[3] https://profgmedia.com/chart-of-the-week/

[4] https://chartable.com/podcasts/too-embarrassed-to-ask

[5] https://www.profgalloway.com/apple-thief/

[6] https://www.section4.com/about

I Don’t Care

I can’t remember how I discovered the song I Love It by Icona Pop, but I’m glad I did. It’s not a great song, unless you like electro-dance music, and maybe not even then, but it sure is catchy. You can watch the official video on youtube.[1] If you do, you will notice that they don’t play instruments or have a backing band. But they have a hypnotic beat and an easy-to-shout chorus “I don’t care, I love it, I don’t care,” which a live concert showcases.[2]

That line is wonderful. There is so much in life that just doesn’t matter that “I don’t care” could be a motto of our species. Obviously, there are important things, family, health, and many other things, but much of life evokes a shrug and an “I don’t care.”  For example, think about the last time somebody asked you where you want to go for lunch or who won the most recent reality TV contest.

I had two “I don’t care” pop culture moments recently. I was reading The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles. He is a terrific writer, skilled at evoking bygone eras. I greatly enjoyed his first two novels:  A Gentleman in Moscow and Rules of Civility. And I was really looking forward to The Lincoln Highway. Then, about 140 pages in, I realized I just didn’t care what happened to any of the characters. I didn’t care whether Emmett retrieved his stolen car or found his mother or married Sally. I didn’t care whether the indomitable Sally was revealed as anything other than an efficient hard working trapped-in-her-time domestic woman. I didn’t care whether the smartest, most mature eight-year-old in history ever showed his humanity. I didn’t care whether Duchess ever told the truth or whether Woolly expanded beyond his stock character role as a rich kid who doesn’t think money was all that important. None of it mattered to me. I did not care. So – I stopped reading the book.

It was highly recommended and, as mentioned, I like the author and was, therefore, predisposed to like the book. But there was no continuing once I realized I didn’t care. The second moment involved a movie: Don’t Look Up. It was also highly recommended and the creation of a well-regarded writer and director:  Adam McKay. The movie is on Netflix and has all-star cast. I mean ALL-STAR – Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence, Rob Morgan, Jonah Hill, Tyler Perry, Arian Grande, Cate Blanchett, and Merely Streep, among others. That is a cast full of famous characters.

The movie has strong comedic moments and an end-of-the-world message:  climate change will kill us all. But, somewhere along the line, I realized that I didn’t care how the movie ended. I got the point, I enjoyed the satire, the jokes, the stars, but how it was going to end did not interest me. I watched it all and got one more laugh during the credits, but really, I just wanted it to end. At 138 minutes, it could have sacrificed 20 or so minutes without losing anything of consequence.

Which brings me to today and the matchup between Georgia and Alabama in the College Football Playoff National Championship Game. I don’t care who wins. It will be one SEC juggernaut or another. It’s a rematch of a game that Alabama won handily a few weeks ago. Will Alabama beat Georgia for the second time or will Georgia prevail. Does anybody who isn’t a fan of one of the teams really care?

It’s not sour grapes because they deserve to be there. Georgia dominated a very good Michigan team and Alabama crushed an undefeated Cincinnati team in the national semi-finals. There is no credible argument that any other team should have displaced Cincinnati or Michigan. The 5th ranked team, Notre Dame, lost to Cincinnati; the 6th ranked team, Ohio State, lost to Michigan. The 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th place teams all had two losses. The four most deserving teams played and two of them were clearly outclassed and outplayed. Which means that Georgia and Alabama are the two best teams and should play in the championship game. But it doesn’t mean I have to care.

I’ll probably check the score from time to time and, if the game is close late, I may check in on it, but it won’t be must-see TV for me like most championship games are. Watching Alabama crush the soul out of another team that can’t run the ball or stop the run, is not fun (unless you are an Alabama fan). And watching an offensively challenged Georgia team rely on its punishing defense isn’t very compelling either (for anybody, probably not even Georgia fans).

I have nothing against either team.  I just don’t care which one wins.[3]


[1] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UxxajLWwzqY

[2] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvXrOE8pXk8

[3] Yesterday was the last day of the NFL regular season. I have several friends who are die-hard Cleveland Browns fans. We have a regular group text chain that banters back and forth during most Browns games. Usually comprising dozens of text messages about this or that play or player or season or whatever. Today, I sent a text about the game: does anybody care. Only three of five text recipients responded:  1. Nah, 2. not even watching, and 3. at the beach. I’m not the only one who doesn’t care. Life is too big and too complicated to care about everything. It’s not even possible to always care about the things you care about. These guys love the Browns, but today that wasn’t enough to make them care.

I Checked the List Twice

I didn’t read Around the World in 80 Books by David Damrosch, a professor of comparative literature at Harvard, but want to share the list of those books. They span the globe, illuminating various times, cultures, genres, and spaces. Damrosch  was born in Maine (I like that ) and hopes “that the range of books * * * and the varied approaches to them here, can illustrate the opportunities that an expanding literary canon offers us to open out our world.”

London:  Inventing a City

Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Arthur Conan Doyle, The Complete Sherlock Holmes

P.G. Wodehouse, Something Fresh

Arnold Bennett, Riceyman Steps

Paris:  Writers’ Paradise

Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time

Djuna Barnes, Nightwood

Marguerite Duras, The Lover

Julio Cortazar, The End of the Game

Georges Perec, W, or the Memory of Childhood

Krakow:  After Auschwitz

Primo Levi, The Periodic Table

Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis and Other Stories

Paul Celan, Poems

Czeslaw Milosz, Selected and Last Poems, 1931-2004

Olga Tokarczuk, Flights

Venice—Florence:  Invisible Cities

Marco Polo, The Travels

Dante Aligheiri, The Divine Comedy

Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron

Donna Leon, By Its Cover

Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities

Cairo—Istanbul—Muscat:  Stories within Stories

Love Songs of Ancient Egypt

The Thousand and One Nights

Naguib Mahfouz, Arabian Nights and Days

Orhan Pamuk, My Name is Red

Jokha Alharthi, Celestial Bodies

The Congo—Nigeria:  (Post)Colonial Encounters

Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness

Chinua Achebe, Things Fall Apart

Wole Soyinka, Death and the King’s Horseman

Georges Ngal, Giambatista Viko, or the Rape of African Discourse

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, The Thing Around Your Neck

Israel/Palestine:  Strangers in a Strange Land

The Hebrew Bible

The New Testament

D.A. Mishani, The Missing File

Emile Habibi, The Secret Life of Saeed the Pessoptimist

Mahmoud Darwish, The Butterfly’s Burden

Tehran—Shiraz:  A Desertful of Roses

Marjane Satrapi, Persepolis

Farid ud-Din Attar, The Conference of the Birds

Faces of Love: Hafez and the Poets of Shiraz

Ghalib, A Desertful of Roses

Agha Shahid Ali, Call Me Ishmael Tonight

Calcutta/Kolkata—Rewriting Empire

Rudyard Kipling, Kim

Rabindranath Tagore, The Home and the World

Salman Rushdie, East, West

Jamyang Norbu, The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes

Jhumpa Lahiri, Interpreter of Maladies

Shanghai—Beijing:  Journeys to the West

Wu Cheng’en, Journey to the West

Lu Xun, The Real Story of Ah-Q and other Stories

Eileen Chang, Love in a Fallen City

Mo Yan, Life and Death Are Wearing Me Out

Bei Dao, The Rose of Time

Tokyo—Kyoto:  The West of the East

Higuchi Ichiyo, In the Shade of Spring Leaves

Murasaki Shikibu, The Tale of Genji

Matsuo Basho, The Narrow Road to the Deep North

Yukio Mishima, The Sea of Fertility

James Merrill, “Prose of Departure”

Brazil—Columbia:  Utopias, Dystopias, Heterotopias

Thomas More, Utopia

Voltaire, Candide, or Optimism

Joaquim Maria Machada de Assis, Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas

Clarice Lispector, Family Ties

Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Mexico—Guatemala:  The Pope’s Blowgun

Cantares Mexicanos:  Songs of the Aztecs

Popol Vuh:  The Mayan Book of the Dawn of Life

Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz, Selected Works

Miguel Angel Asturias, The President

Rosario Castellanos, The Book of Lamentations

The Antilles and Beyond:  Fragments of Epic Memory

Derek Walcott, Omeros

James Joyce, Ulysses

Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea

Margaret Atwood, The Penelopiad

Judith Schalansky, Atlas of Remote Islands

Bar Harbor:  The World on a Desert Island

Robert McCloskey, One Morning in Maine

Sarah Orne Jewett, The Country of the Pointed Firs

Marguerite Yourcenar, Memoirs of Hadrian

Hugh Lofting, The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle

E.B. White, Stuart Little

New York:  Migrant Metropolis

Madeleine L’Engle, A Wrinkle in Time

Saul Steinberg, The Labyrinth

James Baldwin, Notes of a Native Son

Saul Bellow, Henderson the Rain King

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

I’ve read 24 of these books (bolded), some a whole lifetime ago, and none of them disappointed me, so I have high hopes for the other books in the list. For sheer fun, I recommend The Lord of the Rings, which details a raucous romp through Middle Earth, featuring a battle between good and evil. If you want to read a book quickly (to add to your total of books read on this list), I recommend One Morning in Maine, which is a children’s picture book. When Things Fall Apart does a remarkable job exploring what happens when a European culture supplants an existing indigenous culture—spoiler alert, it isn’t pretty for the natives. One book that I tried to read, and will not pick up again, is Ulysses (almost as unreadable as Carlyle’s The French Revolution). Another I am unlikely to read in toto is In Search of Lost Time; I have read one of seven volumes.

Most of these books were written in languages other than English and I cannot vouch for the existence or quality of the English translations. (The first two books I requested from the library are not in its collection, suggesting that they might not have been translated.) Given the constraint of only 80 books, there are some obvious gaps.  For instance, Korea and most of South America are not included.  Of course, it they had been, something else would have to be deleted. At a minimum, it seems that replacing Stuart Little with a Mark Twain book would improve the list.  

I just ordered The secret life of Saeed:  the Pessoptimist from the library because I love the “word” “Pessoptimist.” The summary from the library website states that Saeed’s “life is lived in constant fear, yet he is never without hope.” Despite knowing nothing else about the book or the word, that’s about what I would guess the mashup word means.

For future reference, if you’re trying to write a 1,000-word blog post, letter, or anything else, and you want to do it fast, include a 500-word list. Please let me know about any of these books that you especially recommend, otherwise I’ll have to attack the list haphazardly, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Merry Christmas

An Old Idea

One of the benefits of moving from a house to a condo, beyond reducing yard work to zero, is getting rid of 20-plus years of accumulated stuff. We retained plenty, but feel liberated from the tyranny of useless possessions. While going through files, I found something I wrote so long ago that it was typed physically on paper. A reference to the Family Leave Act suggests that it was written after 1993, but before I acquired my first PC. Rereading it all these years later reminds me of how naïve I used to be. (Some things really don’t change.)

I offer this old piece of writing without alteration, except for a couple of obvious typos.  Consider it a prelude to something else I’m thinking about – finish date uncertain.

Individualize Social Security

The current state of our Social Security (“SS”) Trust Fund (so called) is a disgrace. Our elected leaders (elected, yes; leaders, no) have chosen to use this money, tens and hundreds of billions of dollars earned by tens of millions of hardworking Americans and supposedly saved and reserved for their personal financial well-being as if it were current income.

Our Congress and Presidents have been and continue to spend our savings.  Everyone knows what happens when you spend your savings (especially if you’re counting on them to last):  your investment income decreases, causing your savings to decrease at an accelerating rate (as you spend to make up for the earnings shortfall) resulting in an inescapable downward spiral. Every school child knows that if you constantly raid the piggy bank, it will never fill up. Why then does our Congress spend our long-term savings for current expenses? And more importantly, what are we going to do about it?

I propose a simple straight-forward approach. A plan that is easy to understand, quite a contrast to the proposals of Congress.  Does it ever occur to you that Congress prefers to hide behind big words and indecipherable laws? Do you realize that virtually every time Congress passes a law telling us what to do, they exempt themselves (Family Leave, Equal Employment Opportunity).  But, I digress.

I propose that we lump SS taxes in with all the other taxes and fees that the government collects. They are currently collected and considered separate funds; in reality, they aren’t. This change in accounting will simplify discussions concerning the federal budget and reduce the underhanded attempts to explain why we have surplus SS taxes and why we are spending instead of saving the surplus. In typical fashion, Congress says: “we are saving” and “we do have a SS Trust Fund.” And, in fact, we are buying US government bonds with the SS surplus.  In actuality, the government buying bonds from itself is like putting money in a mattress and paying yourself interest every month.  It is a very difficult way to get ahead.  When will Congress and our various Presidents stop playing word games?

According to my plan, we now have one pot of money from which we pay all government expenses.  Simple, straightforward, unlike Congress.  I now propose that we systematically reduce the amount of money paid into this pot for the next fifteen years.  Under current law, all employees put 7.5% of their pay into SS and all employers also put in 7.5% of their employees’ pay, for a total of 15% of our total salary.  I propose that we reduce this by 1% per year for the next 15 years. At the end of the period, there will no longer be anything called a SS tax.

The federal government will continue to pay all of its SS obligations (it has to keep some of its promises).  The only difference is that these payments will come from general funds, not from a fictitious trust fund. So far, so good.

Now for the radical part:  as we are eliminating SS taxes, I propose that the funds freed be used to establish Mandatory Retirement Accounts (MRAs), separate from all other retirement plans and accounts. Thus, in the first year of this plan (and please excuse the simplicity of the analysis), 14% of your pay would go to help pay SS and 1% to an MRA, in the second year 13% of you pay would go to SS and 2% to the MRA.  After 15 years, all 15% would go into your own individual MRA.  You would manage and be responsible for your own account.  No withdrawals would be possible until the age of 60.

Obviously, there are many details to be worked out.  For instance, who will maintain the accounts? How will SS be phased out for those who have already paid in substantial sums? What happens if someone invests poorly? Even so, the plan has the significant benefit of reducing some of the double speak emanating from Washington; of treating SS for what it is: current expense; of reducing the influence of government interference in our retirement planning; of reducing government influence period. No doubt you can think of benefits that I have not considered.

The most difficult aspect of the entire program (other than enactment) is to keep Congress from changing substantive portions of it in the future.  I apologize for chiding Congress so much, but really, do you think they care more about us or about getting re-elected.  It is time someone legislated for the benefit of the country, not just a narrow parochial interest.  Where are the far-sighted citizens who want to help all of us (as our founding fathers did in the revolutionary period), not just the people they know or collect funds from?

Our representatives need to do what is right for the country.  It is not always possible to please everyone, however if decisions are made based on the aggregate good for the country, everyone would benefit.  This new no-SS plan is good for the country, though it will adversely affect certain individuals and that concerns me.  But the overall good vastly outweighs the negative impact, which can be alleviated by other in-place programs.

Wow!  I was quite self-assured back in the day.  I like to think I’m a touch more nuanced now.  As most of you know, George W. Bush broached the idea of privatizing SS during his presidency – it went nowhere. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_Security_debate_in_the_United_States. Based on this recent article posted at the Motley Fool (https://www.fool.com/retirement/2020/02/15/the-surprising-amount-of-money-congress-has-stolen.aspx), perhaps it’s time to revisit the concept . . .

Input > Output

Languishing has been something of an epidemic during the pandemic.[1] I prefer to think that I have been languidly accepting input, mainly from books, other publications, podcasts, and filmed programs (broadcast and streaming), while generating extremely little output. It’s probably not possible to generate more output than intake, but my ratio has been astonishingly low.

Some of the input is virtually valueless, that’s the languishing part. I have read a few Agatha Christie books this year, fun, diverting, virtue-free. I have watched the first nine seasons of the Perry Mason show, which my family delights in deriding me about.   

To say the shows are formulaic is to belittle formulas. The victim or the alleged perpetrator (always of a murder) is invariably wealthy. The standard Mason client is innocent, if besieged with convincing evidence to the contrary. The actual murderer is typically unknown to anyone, except Mason, until the end of the show, when he or she breaks down under questioning and confesses to the crime.

Another part of the formula is the staggering creativity and determination of Mason. Though ably assisted by his secretary, Della Street, and his investigator, Paul Drake, they never solve the crime and rarely understand the big picture. Only Mason sees through the fake alibis, spurious motives, and callous hearts of the criminals. The bombastic prosecutor and his sycophantic police officers never even realize that it’s possible for someone other than Mason’s client to have committed the murder. How the supercilious, if honest, Hamilton Burger kept his job is astounding.

Fortunately, some of my current input is a bit more edifying. Rolf Dobelli, in The Art of Thinking Clearly (imagine “Thinking” to be upside down and red as it is on the cover of the book), is regaling me with three-page vignettes about how we don’t think clearly.  Consider:  the swimmer’s body illusion (swimming doesn’t give them that body type, they swim better because they have that body type) and the sunk cost[2] fallacy (considering costs to date causes us to improperly assess the cost/benefit of moving forward).  There are many others:  the winner’s curse, contagion bias, default effect, and planning fallacy to name a few, but I can’t give them all away – it would take too long.

Even deeper is Dambisa Moyo, who tackles a topic that should be near and dear to all of us in Edge of Chaos. The subtitle is Why Democracy is Failing to Deliver Economic Growth—and How to Fix it. Moyo was born and (mostly) raised in Zambia, then educated at universities in Zambia, the US, and England. After stints at the World Bank and Goldman Sachs, she became an author and speaker, and excels at both.

The book is wide-ranging, but I most enjoyed her discussion about suggested   democratic reforms. She determined whether the following countries have adopted the following reforms: Australia, Brazil, Canada, France, Germany, India, Indonesia, Italy, Japan, Mexico, Russia, Singapore, United Kingdom, and United States.

1.  Ability to commit to long-term agreements. This seems crucial, especially for military alliances. Whatever you think of the merits of the Paris Climate Agreement, you must agree that embracing them, then disengaging, then reengaging, does not look good. No country has a way to lock in long-term agreements.

2.  Campaign finance restrictions. This is a bit open ended, but generally considered necessary to reduce the undue influence of great wealth. Given that 11 of the 14 countries in her list (including the US) have adopted some form of restrictions, it is a relatively easy standard to meet.

3.  Restrictions on ability to take on high-pay opportunities. This is supposed to prevent government officials from moving to positions that might encourage graft and self-dealing, whether before or after government service. Seven countries (including the US) have adopted some form of this reform, typically a cooling off period.

4.  Extended elector cycles (more than 5 years). No country has adopted this reform, though US senators serve for six years.

5.  Term limits for legislative and executive offices. Six countries (including the US) limit executive terms; only Mexico limits the terms of legislators.

6.  Minimum qualifications for office. Only two countries are listed as adopting this reform. Indonesia requires candidates to “believe in one true god,” to have attended high school, to be “physically and mentally healthy,” and to not have declared bankruptcy. I like that last part. In Singapore, candidates must be at least 45 years old. In the US, all federal elected offices are subject to an age minimum, but typically state office holders are not.

7.  Design of electoral districts to incentivize competition. This is one of my favorites – we need less gerrymandering. We need voters to elect representatives, not for politicians to select or create safe seats. (Here think about Hillary Clinton deciding to move to NY to run for the Senate.) No country has adopted this reform.  In the US, some states have or, in any event, have tried.

8.  Mandatory voting. Four countries have adopted this reform. I think more people should vote, but I’m not comfortable forcing everyone to vote.

9.  Minimum voting requirements. This seems incompatible with the former reform and has not yet been adopted by any of the 14 countries in this survey.

10.  Weighted voting system. Only France has adopted this reform. Some states in the US use versions of a weighted system. I endorse this reform idea because I believe it would drive politicians toward the center, leading to fewer far-left or far-right extremists.

Mexico has adopted the most reforms (5); Germany the fewest (0).  The US has adopted three. For the record, none of the adoptions have occurred because of the book.

Whether or not you have been languishing, please think about these suggested reforms and consider whether they or other reforms would enhance our political system.


[1] See for example — https://www.nytimes.com/2021/04/19/well/mind/covid-mental-health-languishing.html

[2] I have a sunk-cost story that is over 30 years old and still causes friends in the know to laugh out loud when they think of it.

Merry Christmas (Happy Holidays)

We haven’t heard much about the war on Christmas lately.[1] I think that’s a good thing. This year, festering election fraud claims, which are believed by many but proven by none, have been rather distracting.[2] There is also the matter of the resurgent pandemic caused by a tiny novel corona virus, which has disrupted the economy, many social practices, and virtually everything else. Fortunately, 95% effective vaccines are starting to be introduced. If they work as advertised, we should be on the road to quasi-normalcy within six months.

By then, the virus will have affected every single annual event. It started with the greatest show on Earth:[3] the NCAA basketball tournament. Then Wimbledon and The Open (golf, British) were cancelled. Countless weddings were postposed, graduations virtualized, and worlds turned upside down. Every person on the planet has been affected, either directly or indirectly. And recently, we learned that the virus has made its way to Antarctica. Why should the few people who live there miss out on the fun?

Thanksgiving was spent largely in small nuclear units, bubbles if you will. Christmas will likely be the same – for most, not all. Too many people continue to believe whatever they want to believe about the virus, which exacerbates community spread, which has resulted in many hospital intensive care units operating near or at capacity.

As different as this Christmas will be, it will still be Christmas: a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ for Christians and a celebration of Santa Claus for others. It wasn’t always that way. For instance, Christmas was not celebrated at all until approximately 300 years after Christ died. Moreover, the historical progenitor of Santa, St. Nicholas, was born about 50 years before that, although he wasn’t considered to be Santa for many centuries.

Through the years, different groups have actively opposed the celebration of Christmas, few more so than the Puritans who declared war on it. Not the intentionally divisive fake war that we have heard about over the last couple of decades or so, but an actual authentic war: an at times incredibly effective effort to eradicate the celebration entirely.[4]

Today’s so-called war on Christmas is a decent proxy for the entire political correctness battlefield. For some, saying “Merry Christmas,” although not wrong in and of itself, struck a divisive tone. It ignored the other holidays (Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, Boxing Day, New Years Day) that take place on or around Christmas.[5] It excluded some people, who could be easily included with a more expansive expression, such as: Happy Holidays. There was no direct attack on Christmas, which was very much encompassed within Happy Holidays.

For some others, this attempt to be inclusive was considered an assault on religion. To them, Happy Holidays was effectively divisive, by separating away those for whom the religious aspects of Christmas are paramount, not inclusive. Any expression other than Merry Christmas was tantamount to elevating other cultures or holidays over and above Christmas because of the religious nature of Christmas.

In short, the well-intended attempt to be inclusive was deliberately misconstrued as an attack on religion. This concept of a war on Christmas never made any sense to me, especially when you consider the historical wars that have actually been levied against Christmas.

The Puritans knew how to wage war against Christmas. They were always so afraid that somebody somewhere might be having fun, that in 1647, they banned Christmas altogether. They were concerned that Christmas had descended into the depths of revelry from its true home: the Puritans’ metaphorical mountaintop of piety. And this was not a war of words, among other controls, shops were required to remain open, troops were deployed to break up parties and games, and, in London, to tear down decorations.

This war on Christmas was political; in essence, the losers of a civil war were protesting against restrictions imposed by the winner.[6] The war on Christmas was prosecuted so poorly in England that it led to a revival of the civil war and ultimately the repulse of the Puritans. But not their war on Christmas, which had traveled with them to North America. There, the celebration of Christmas was subject to a fine in some parts of their domain (New England) until the 19th century.

The great C.S. Lewis decried the amalgamation of religion and commerce that early 20th century Christmas engendered, loving only the former, not the commerce. Communist Russia and Nazi Germany decried Christmas itself, preferring the elevation of the state at the expense of anything related to religion.

Despite these and other efforts to eradicate or minimize Christmas, the holiday remains an important part of calendars around the world. Though atheists and Muslims would love to eliminate Christmas, that does not appear to be the goal of whomever is in charge of political correctness in the United States.

This year, the virus will affect how we commemorate Christmas, but it will not eliminate our celebration. To those of you who prefer it, “Merry Christmas,” and to the rest of you, “Happy Holidays.”[7]

Bibliography – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_controversies; https://www.historytoday.com/archive/feature/christmas-under-puritans; https://www.nationalgeographic.com/news/2018/12/131219-santa-claus-origin-history-christmas-facts-st-nicholas/; https://theconversation.com/when-christmas-was-cancelled-a-lesson-from-history-149310#:~:text=Christmas%20is%20cancelled,replaced%20by%20a%20Presbyterian%20system; https://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/15/opinion/the-puritan-war-on-christmas.html


[1] Though not long ago, President Trump sent out a fundraising letter that included: “This is a HUGE victory in the Democrats’ pathetic WAR ON CHRISTMAS, and I want YOU to be a part of it.”

[2] On December 17, Fareed Zakaria wrote that 60 million Americans believe Trump’s assertions about election fraud. This is good evidence of something he wrote in the same column: “Trump understands that a sensational lie is far more effective than a complicated truth.”

[3] “Earth” derives from the Anglo-Saxon word – erda – for dirt.

[4] Christmas did not become a national holiday in the US until 1870.

[5] There is no particular reason to believe that Christ was born on December 25. No date is mentioned in the Bible and various references contained therein point to different times of year. There isn’t even a consensus on what year Christ was born.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Date_of_birth_of_Jesus

[6] It was also about the desire to have some fun, at a time when “Christmas” consisted of as many as 12 days of festivities.

[7] If you say either “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” or even “Happy Birthday to a Jehovah’s Witness, they (third person plural used as first person plural because “he or she” is awkward) will inform you that they don’t celebrate any day. For most, this is religious conviction; for some (perhaps), it is a war on Christmas.

Pandemic Traffic

I have noticed a few things about traffic during the past six months or so – which coincides with the massive expansion of remote working associated with our attempt to ward off the coronavirus. First, traffic in the suburbs is pretty similar to what it was before the pandemic. I’m not in the suburbs as often as when I lived there (obviously), but when I drive to shopping areas, etc. in suburban areas, there is considerable traffic and relatively full parking lots.

Second, when driving to Maine last month, there was much less automobile traffic than normal. The number of trucks appeared roughly the same as in years past. But the number of passenger cars was way down and was especially noticeable at service areas, which usually teem with travelers, but this year didn’t.[1] 

Third, in downtown Columbus, there is essentially no traffic. It has been over six months since I have had to wait for a second light cycle to get through an intersection. In at least 75% of my encounters with traffic lights downtown, I am the only car in my lane of traffic. Metered parking spaces that used to get extensive use sit empty at prime times. Returning from lunch last week around 1:00 pm, the ten spaces on Marconi Drive (right next to the Supreme Court of Ohio) were all empty. Pre-pandemic, it was unusual for even one of those spaces to be available mid-day.

Most striking of all is the parking lot across the river from downtown. Pre-pandemic, the lot was full every single weekday – with over 250 people parking there and walking across the river to work. Since the onset of “work from home,” I have not seen more than 15 cars in the lot.

This general lack of traffic has caused me to reconsider an old idea: increasing pedestrian and cycling access to streets. On Sundays during warm weather months, Memorial Drive in Cambridge, MA, which is a major thoroughfare otherwise, is closed to traffic. It is a great opportunity for skate boarders, bladers, cyclists, runners, parents with young children in strollers or on tricycles, and anyone else who wants to roam along the north side of the Charles River without worrying about motor vehicles.

Why not introduce some of that to Columbus and other cities? We could start with Capital Square on Sundays. No cars, just people. Driving around the closed off area would barely inconvenience drivers because there is so little traffic on Sundays.

Given the lack of traffic on weekdays and the possibility that it may never fully return (because, let’s face it, people enjoy working from home), it might even be possible to convert some streets permanently. Right outside my front door are two four-lane streets, which go one way (in opposite directions). What if we changed one street to two-way traffic and the other to no traffic? In the short term, it would not affect traffic because there is none. In the long term it might lead to out-of-control backups.  If so, we could re-convert. There is no way to know whether it would be embraced by non-drivers (it would), but why not try and see what happens.

I encountered an out-of-control traffic backup the other night when returning to Columbus from Cincinnati.  Miles of it. According to googlemaps, the last ten miles of the trip home were going to take over 80 minutes. So – I started driving in the left travel lane with a few other cars.

It was wide open because three lanes were merging into the two rightmost lanes. We were making good progress, passing dozens of immobile cars. When someone in the center lane moved over half a lane to block us, we drove around. Then we drove by dozens more unmoving vehicles. This time an unofficial traffic warden decided to sit in the middle of the left lane. That stymied us until one intrepid soul decided to use the shoulder to get around him. I followed even though the warden swerved in an attempt to cow me into submission.

After getting past him, there was at least a half mile of open road in the left lane. That enabled me to learn that the two right lanes were moving slowly but with lots of space between cars. There was no reason for the traffic to be as backed up as it was. But for the wardens, there would have been more cars in the left lane and shorter wait times for everybody. This last part is not made up.

I’m not a traffic engineer (or whatever the folks who monitor and study traffic are called) but I did read the book Traffic[2]about ten years ago.[3] What the book and other subsequent studies conclude is that drivers should stay in the lane that is disappearing – for the common good (not to mention their own). Ignoring the lane causes worse traffic. The warden who attempted to divert me was doing himself, other drivers, and almost my front bumper a disservice. As it turns out, I made it home in about 30 minutes after getting off the highway and taking an alternate route.

Traffic is quite good. The first 75 pages or so were a bit technical, but once the author started addressing roundabouts (rotaries) and traffic calming techniques, I was rather riveted. Traffic is a regular part of our lives, I enjoy dealing with less, hope it stays that way, and would love to see our cities experiment with ways to better utilize streets that currently are in oversupply based on current traffic conditions.


[1] A small ancillary benefit of wearing masks becomes quite obvious when traveling – high-use public restrooms are easier on the nose.

[2] Traffic – Why We Drive the Way We Do (and What It Says About Us) by Tom Vanderbilt.

[3] My books-read list indicates that I read the book 12 years ago, in October of 2008. Reading that book gave me much more knowledge about traffic than staying at a Holiday Inn Express would.