Updates Weekly
My wife, Erin Gilbertson, officially has her PhD in Biological and Medical Informatics from the University of California, San Francisco. You can read her entire thesis, entitled Machine Learning Insights into the 3D Genome: Diversity and Gene Regulation in Human Populations, online here.
I’m incredibly proud of all of her work. It’s been amazing watching her grow, learn, persevere, and succeed in so many aspects. I’m thrilled I’ve been some part of that journey.
I started using feeeed after reading about it on MacStories. It’s a neat app that, though lacking a certain style and polish, is a wonderful way to create a personal list of suggested content using only sources that you provide. I can take in a fun mix of baseball subreddit posts, articles on several blogs I follow, random photos from my library, and a handful of other options.
I’ve tried the RSS game, but as someone who leans toward completionism with my content, I find it difficult to see the list of unread articles grow, yet I refuse to declare feed bankruptcy. feeeed offers a better way for me to access this content naturally. I can always open a chronological list view if I want to find something in particular, but the default view that serves you a mix of content and then cuts you off is ideal. It’s not for everyone, but I’m glad this app was made.
Much like two years ago, Erin and I made it back to the Minnesota State Fair for a few hours. We didn’t eat much. However, walking through those busy streets that look absolutely packed from above but are fairly navigable on the ground was an absolute joy and comfort that helped smooth the transition away from San Francisco.
The spirit of The Great Minnesota Get Together inhabits everyone there. I felt light despite the cookies and corn dogs. I was calm and cool while roasting in the sun. Everything is a little nicer, a bit more joyful and fun at the fair. The familiarity of the fairgrounds, the pleasant conversations at a few booths, and the overall pride for our state all made a huge difference in my mood and outlook after a difficult couple of weeks.
Well, I lost my head in San Francisco
Waiting for the fog to roll out
But I found it in a rain cloud
It was smiling down
San Francisco by The Mowglis
Farewell, San Francisco.
I never meant to love you. People asked me, “How do you feel about the city?” I would always respond, “It’s good, plenty to like. But I’ll be ready to go when the time comes.”
That time has come, and you’ve called my bluff.
We grew from strangers to friends during long weekend walks across sleepy city streets, moving from sun to fog, cresting steep hills to reveal breathtaking vistas. You taught me the charm of culture and variety through neighborhoods that merge with each other while remaining wholly distinct, creating a patchwork of people with their own stories and lives, each of them making this city uniquely their home.
As we spent those hours together, ambling without purpose or drive, solely focused on exploring, I found many of your quirks and surprises that you hide away from endeavoring tourists. Each new staircase, sculpture, and park brought me further into your fold, enamoring me and making me realize that you could also be a home for me.
But you are not just the streets and rolling hills. You’re more than artwork on sidewalks and coffee shops, more than your greenspace and restaurants and museums. Like all of us, you’re made of the bits of personality provided by every person here. More than anything, I love San Francisco because I love the people I’ve met, and I now have the great fortune to include them among my friends.
These people, each bringing their own history to bear on this city and our time together, are incredibly special and dear to me. I’m amazed I found such a supportive and inclusive group full of laughs and care and joy. I could say so much, but I will be brief: I am a much better person for having met them.
I promise to visit and spend time once again walking your streets. You’ll no longer be my home, but I will be thrilled to see an old friend I found on accident who impacted my life tremendously and shaped how I approach the world.
Farewell, and thank you.
My thanks to Jack Prelutsky.
Packing! Oh, Packing!
I hate you, you stink.
I wish I could throw
All this stuff in the drink.
These terrible boxes
Are crowding my floor.
I’m getting so flustered
Each time through the door.
Packing! Oh, Packing!
You’re making me ill.
These thick cubes of cardboard
Are getting their fill.
The crumpling of paper,
The ripping of tape,
All makes me just want to
Run off and escape.
Packing! Oh, Packing!
How can there be more?
Somehow our apartment’s
A general store.
Tchotkes and treasures
And bobbins and toys,
All sorts of clutter
I cannot enjoy.
Packing! Oh, Packing!
What else can I say?
I wish I could ditch and
Get out of this fray.
I’m swimming in boxes,
These prisms abound.
Where once there was happiness
None can be found!
Packing! Oh, Packing!
When can I be done?
Is it time for a break
And a romp in the sun?
“Of course not,” says Packing,
“You’ll never be through.
“I cannot be sated,
“Let items accrue!”
Packing! Oh, Packing!
You mistress of harm.
I’m hurting my back
And have aches in my arms.
A burgeoning tower,
Oppressively brown,
Is building around me
And getting me down.
Packing! Oh, Packing!
I swear I’ll be free.
Sisyphus doesn’t have
Boulders for me.
Soon we’ll be done,
All our life hid away.
Then it’s time to unpack!
What a glorious day.
A pickle I’ve avoided for a couple of years has finally been unjarred.1Is this a good metaphor? Two years ago, I was issued a company-owned laptop that was precisely the same make and model—down to the color—as my personal computer. I was loathe to use two computers and felt uncomfortable doing my extracurricular tasks on the work device, so I continued exclusively using my personal laptop as I’ve done since I started there.
To comply with various data privacy laws and ensure the company can provide tech support, it was recently made clear to me that work had to be done on the work laptop. I now have to maintain feature parity between two computers, bring them both with me while traveling, and generally be inconvenienced by this change.
Continue reading “Managing Multiple Computers”A short post during a hectic time. I’ve officially visited all MLB stadiums within a reasonable distance of the Pacific Ocean: Petco Park (San Diego), Dodger Stadium (Los Angeles), Angel Stadium (Anaheim), Oracle Park (San Francisco), Oakland Coliseum (Oakland), and T-Mobile Park (Seattle). The next two closest to the west coast are Chase Field in Phoenix and Coors Field in Denver.
On my way to San Diego this weekend, I stopped in Anaheim to see the Los Angeles Angels play the New York Mets. It was a toasty experience in 90º heat, but I found the stadium beautiful and the game itself was good. Going to a stadium surrounded entirely by parking lots is weird—I’ve grown used to Oracle Park and Target Field in Minneapolis, both nicely nestled within their cities—but the setup was nice. It feels good to check it off the list.
AUSTIN, TEXAS—Staring deep beyond his bathroom mirror, George Kurtz, CEO of Crowdstrike, repeated “There’s no such thing as bad publicity” under his breath. He let his head drop and began absentmindedly splashing water on his face, hoping the bags under his eyes would disappear before the back-to-back-to-back interviews that began the next hour.
Looking back up, he wiped down his face with a nearby hand towel embroidered with the phrase “Keep Austin Weird” and forced a haggard smile across his face.
“It was horrifying, seeing that smile,” said one anonymous witness. “It’s like he was auditioning for a new role as Joker.”
Kurtz began muttering to himself, with the comment “It’s just like Zoom during the pandemic” heard by passersby. He was seen thirty minutes later driving his Tesla Model X. Other drivers on the road noticed the man putting his head into his hands at every red light.
Later that day, Kurtz was seen staring at banks of computer monitors steeped in blue screens.