Summers' Protege, III.

There is more to the story, and it gets even more bizarre. The article I cited below listing the 1995 Mazda Protege as Summers' car further states: Summers previously owned a 1996 Taurus GL.

So not only does Lawrence Summers purportedly drive a 1995 Mazda subcompact worth about $1,500, if his previous car was a 1996 Taurus, Summers may have very well bought the Mazda used. Yow!

Summers' Protege, II.

Thinking about it again, I simply can't believe Lawrence (since I don't know him personally I'm not going to call him Larry) Summers' primary vehicle is a 14-year-old subcompact. There has to be more to this story.

Summers' Protege.

I drive a 1997 Honda Civic EX with about 140,000 miles on it. It runs pretty well, and I hope to keep driving it for some time.

I'll admit that this car occasionally inspires feelings of inadequacy -- if I really were a successful and competent person I'd be driving something a bit newer and nicer.

But now it turns out that White House National Economic Council Director Lawrence Summers drives a 1995 Mazda Protege. In other words: The greatest economic mind of our time drives and even older and crappier car than I do. Whoohoo!

Like Peanut Butter and Thumb Tacks.

Why is it that when people want to describe two items as incomparable, they insist on using the phrase, ``like apples and oranges.'' I don't get it. Apples and oranges are very easily compared: They're both round fruit, suitable for lunch bag or quick at-home snack. One has a peel, the other doesn't. In my family the kitchen table fruit bowl often holds both apples and oranges, and I frequently ask myself: ``Do I want an apple right now or an orange?''

So I think we should think up better phrases to indicate incomparability. How about:

``Like apple sauce and gout.''

``Like acne medication and electronic fuel injection.''

``Like chocolate ice cream and the quadratic formula.''

Be Happy, It's still Adar.

A little late for Purim this year, but still during the joyous month of Adar, I found the following image on Wikipedia: A photograph taken during a 1934 Purim celebration in Tel Aviv. Featuring a young member of the Yemenite Jewish community, dressed as the Purim Carnival's Queen Esther.

Not Me Too.

OK, so this is a weird little story. When I told it to my teenage sons, they looked at me with a jaw-dropped fascination. I read their expressions as: How could anyone be that stupid?

To begin: In the late 1970's and early 1980's I became a fan of the Boston-based punkish band, Mission of Burma. Their shows were amazing, I thought, and I went to see them every weekend or so for a few years, at various grubby venues in and near Boston. They had this one EP, Signals, Calls, and Marches, which to this day I believe is one of the best rock records ever. I hear Mission of Burma's influence in a lot of what has come since. They produced layered washes of sound, steadily building to transcendent moments. One song led straight to another, and they would often play continuously for the entire set.

I thought their concerts were so great that I would leave immediately after they finished -- so as not to pollute with other sounds my memory of the experience. At this time they were usually the opening act, and so my leaving meant that I'd miss the main show. I started this practice after seeing Mission of Burma one time at the Paradise, opening for a well known Los Angeles punk band. Mission of Burma played brilliantly for about 45 minutes straight, stopped abruptly, leaned their instruments facing against the amplifiers, and walked off the stage in the ensuing feedback. A few minutes into the main act I realized that I had no interest, and so I left.

To get to the point. I happened to be in Albany, NY (that's another story) when Mission of Burma passed through on one of their low budget tours. I saw them in a small rather typical club. I remember Mission of Burma gave a good if not outstanding performance, and I left after they played. Again, they were the opening act.

The main act was this new band from Ireland whose music I had not yet heard. I remember seeing, before I left, this skinny guy with long bleached hair fussing with the equipment.

So I walked out on Bono on U2's first US tour.

The Music of My Youth.

When I was a teenager, growing up north of NYC, there was only one radio station for me: WNEW FM. This is the station on which I first heard music that has stayed with me since. The Who, Dylan, the Grateful Dead, the Allman Brothers -- a few of the popular rock bands and musicians at the time who, in retrospect, actually reached a reasonable level of artistry and originality. I clearly remember the DJ's, in particular: Jonathon Schwartz (who has since famously moved beyond rock&roll), Scott Muni, and Allison Steele. I remember being home for a visit from college, up late working on a problem set (I think in first semester real analysis), and calling the station. I spoke with Allison Steele, aka the Night Bird, asking her to play ``The Rotters Club'' by the obscure British band Hatfield and the North. She was so cool, with her incredible, smoky voice. And she did play the song. (A quick surf tells me that both Muni and Steele have since passed away.)

Anyway, the WNEW FM I knew in the 1970's and early 1980's dissappeared for a while. But it's back now, and I can listen to it on wnew.com.

Also cool is that I can again listen to the rock station of my late teens and early 20's, Boston's WBCN. Radio on.

A Cool Read.

Just finished The Cold Six Thousand by James Ellroy. The most deliriously insane political thriller ever. To be kept away from conspiracy theorists. Don't talk about Dallas. YOW!

The Worst Post in US History.

I have heard several times now, from ultra-smart Ivy League think-tank types, on radio and TV, that the invasion of Iraq was the worst foreign policy decision in US history. As much as a case can be made that the invasion was a terrible strategic error, and was morally wrong, our great country has made much, much worse foreign policy decisions to date. Just a few examples:

1. The importation to the US of Black African slaves. The US slave trade with Africa ended January 1, 1808, twenty-one years after the adoption of the US constitution. Of course, slavery itself did not end until much later. But until 1808 slavery was at least in part a feature of US foreign policy.

2. The conquest of the American West. People who think that the invasion of Iraq represents the worst of our country's imperialist excess should read (or re-read) Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, by Dee Brown. Remember, before the ``West was won,'' the expansion of the original US into new North American territories was entirely within the scope of foreign policy.

3. US involvement in Southeast Asia. Just as all of the violence in Iraq today can be laid at the feet of the US, all (or at least much) of what happened in Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam during and soon after our military involvement in these countries can also be blamed on the US.

OK, enough. I know this discussion is ridiculous. But I think some perspective is needed amidst some of the most harshly critical rhetoric on Iraq.

I will leave an analysis of the war in Iraq to future historians. Of course, my personal hope is that the situation in Iraq continues to improve, and that eventually Iraq becomes a model democracy for the Muslim Arab world.

Also, of course, one of my greatest fears for our country and the world is that the situation in Iraq massively deteriorates from its recently achieved relative stability. G-d forbid that our involvement in Iraq ever does rate high on a list of worst mistakes in US history.

The Best Background Music for the Occasion.

I know that many people have their own personal soundtracks -- background music for the many things they do with their lives. Music played on an ipod, or perhaps just recalled while humming along.

Well, I've just discovered the best background music for grading hundreds of calculus exams: Thelonius Monk. (In particular, Brilliant Corners.) No doubt.

Uh Oh.

This is bad news. But not surprising.

Computer Assisted.

I have frequently pondered just how much easier scholarly research has become with the rise of the internet, digital databases, and search engines. In particular, if I want to find out what has already been written on almost any given topic, I can now do a fairly complete search in a only few minutes. Such a search would take many hours of dull library work before the present age of the internet.

More recently I thought: If ``library'' research is now essentially instantaneous, has there been a corresponding increase in academic output? Are more papers being published per year per scholar? Are better papers being produced?

And then it hit me: Why don't I check the web! Indeed, a Google search on ``internet scholarly output'' produced the following hit:

Bibliometric analysis of the impact of internet use on scholarly productivity, Noam Kaminer, Yale M. Braunstein, Journal of the American Society for Information Science, Volume 49 Issue 8, Pages 720 - 730. Published Online: 7 Dec 1998.

I immediately felt so productive, and efficient, that I called it a day and went to sleep.

Not Recommended.

I had to send several letters of recommendation out Friday, for students applying to graduate school, in advance of February deadlines. (It seems that in the current ``no planning ahead'' culture it's perfectly acceptable to ask your professor for a letter less than two weeks before the deadline.) In any event, I liked the students for whom I was writing, and I was happy to be of service. As is my practice, I put in a couple of hours of work into writing each letter. But what I found frustrating was how long it took to submit these letters over the web. I was (not literally) tearing my hair out. I thought computers were supposed to make life easier.

I eventually figured out (I think -- I'm not sure) that my main problem was in using the Mac Preview program rather than, ahem, that other .pdf viewer. The .pdf forms I was filling out would not save properly, and I had trouble previewing my uploaded files before final submission.

But I've learned my lesson. And maybe I'll be able to do this all more easily next year. Unless everything gets changed again.

Recent Reading Roundup.

First, I finally finished James Ellroy's ``L.A. Quartet:'' The Black Dahlia, The Big Nowhere, L.A. Confidential, and White Jazz. Astonishing. (Although I admit that White Jazz required some patience on my part; I'm still used to sentences having verbs.) Ellroy has claimed himself to be the best crime fiction author alive, and it's hard to argue with him. His intricate but perfectly synchronized plots, together with ultra-hard-boiled prose, place his work apart from anything else I've read.
[Warning: These books are not for the timid, and it's possible that no one under the age, say, of 40 should read them.]

Second, I most recently finished Walter Mosley's, Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned. It is possible that I've read a better book in my life, but I can't think of one. A story of redemption, one small step at a time, through the eyes of a man newly freed from prison after serving 27 years for a brutal double murder. A beautiful book. A perfect book.

Public Intellectuals.

Having seen my own Ph.D. students struggle to find academic employment, I sympathize with the following proposal that the US government should provide jobs for new Ph.D.'s not able to find work in the academic marketplace. But universities have been producing more Ph.D.'s than can be employed in academia for some time now, and -- just as with the US auto companies -- a permanent solution to this problem will have to involve a substantial restructuring of the ``industry'' itself.

The Inauguration.

The provost of my university sent out an e-mail that we should feel free to cancel classes Tuesday, January 20, so that students may watch the inauguration. So I can honestly say that I have already received a concrete benefit from the new administration. Thank you.

More seriously, I can only hope -- along with most of the rest of the US and the world -- that the future will indeed be brighter.

Festival of Light (Bulb Jokes), #1

How many Orthodox Jews does it take to change a light bulb?
Ask your rabbi.

Festival of Light (Bulb Jokes), #2

How many Conservative Jews does it take to change a lightbulb?
Only one, but it takes three years.

[Note: If you don't get this joke, Google the following words: triennial cycle Conservative Judaism.]

Festival of Light (Bulb Jokes), #3

How many Reform Jews does it take to change a lightbulb?
We believe that light can be experienced in many ways,
and that the bulbs themselves are no longer necessary. However,
if you find the lightbulb personally meaningful, you may
change it yourself.

Festival of Light (Bulb Jokes), #4

How many Reconstructionist Jews does it take to change a lightbulb?
We reject this medieval prejudice against the dark.