I’ve been working on learning Dean Town by Vulfpeck on guitar. It’s been a great experience because it takes me back to when I was first working on playing an instrument, both excited by each little step that showed I was better than before, and amazed that anyone could play what I just did so much faster. I want to savor those experiences more.
That being said, the song is an absolute jam. Go watch the original version, and their performance at Madison Square Garden. I’m not sure I’ll ever have the technical chops to play it at speed but I enjoy the process of getting a little better.
Last year, I wrote a long post on scorekeeping in baseball. An hour before I headed to my first MLB game of 2023 with my scorebook in hand, I realized there was a new element to track: pitch clock violations that end a plate appearance. If a batter takes too long, they are assessed a strike. If a pitcher takes too long, the count gets an additional ball. It’s totally possible that a pitch clock violation would result in either third strike, or fourth ball, of a count and directly cause a strikeout or walk without a final pitch being thrown.
That’s such an odd scenario that I want a way to denote it. I did a little research and found this excellent article with quotes from various official MLB scorekeepers. It’ll take time to decide on a standard, but I opted for circling either the K or BB on my scorecard to mean that the result was due to a final pitch clock violation.
By sheer dumb luck, this happened on my second game of the season. In the image below, you can see two consecutive walks. The first was standard, the second had the 4th ball occur on a pitcher’s clock violation.
It’s interesting to have new wrinkles to deal with. Last year it was the Manfred runner for me. We’ll see what comes next.
I am thrilled when I try a new hobby. I’m sure part of that is the hit of getting to buy a few new things, but I also appreciate the initial challenge and the excitement of any initial progress. Yet I often drop hobbies if I feel I can’t devote enough time to become “good” at whatever skills it involves. This post is a message to myself that sometimes a hobby should just be a hobby.
Textbooks have been the premier mechanism for presenting curriculum for centuries. While the printed word is powerful and, for many people, superior to digital versions, the physicality of textbooks requires that their content remains static. Errors are inevitable, as are changes in relevant topics or pedagogy. New editions are the only tool to fight against the decay of a textbook’s utility.1Let’s not fight over who’s at fault for the prevalence of new textbook editions or their cost. I’m typically quite impressed by the forewords I see in many math textbooks comparing editions, and believe much of the time a new edition is worthwhile. In an educational landscape dominated by digital tools, it’s tempting to have content updated rapidly and frequently. This approach requires a deft hand.
Let’s not fight over who’s at fault for the prevalence of new textbook editions or their cost. I’m typically quite impressed by the forewords I see in many math textbooks comparing editions, and believe much of the time a new edition is worthwhile.
I’ve been reading How High We Go in the Dark by Sequoia Nagamatsu. Unlike other apocalyptic fiction I’ve consumed over the years, this is written as an anthology of short stories giving snippets of life over the course of time without any stated connection between the characters beyond their shared experience of something rather awful going on. I’m always drawn to anthologies, whether they’re a book or TV show, because I get a wealth of “experience” in the world.
Part of my draw to them may be a simple change of pace: I like to toss in some non-fiction books among the majority fiction that I read, and filling in the gaps of powerful narrative stories with these world-building styles give me a fresh perspective on how to construct and present information in an interesting way. Even then, I’ve always admired short stories. I’ve seen comments by some writers who don’t appreciate the power of a concise story, and the care that goes into crafting them. They’re delicate and sharp, and a book made entirely of them to tell a broader story is a fascinating concept.
It’s been a while since I wrote about my setup for various writing projects. It’s changed a bit since then, and is still not particularly robust. Consider this a report on the state of the world.
When you think something, what precisely are you doing? Does the thought take shape in your head, or does it only coalesce as it’s put in a communicable form? About once a year, I go down a little rabbit hole of curiosity regarding language, communication, and the meaning of thought. Here I go again.
