While Deborah
and I were hanging out that the SF Asian Art Musuem yesterday, she asked me
why I had chosen to become a member of the museum. Since I don't remember anyone
ever asking me that question and because I hadn't completely thought through
the reasons myself, I struggled to come up with a satisfactory answer. Certainly,
the museum has an excellent collection of Asian art, perhaps
the best place to get an overview. And I do have a thing for museums and
for sharing the experience with others. (I invested in a contributing membership
level, allowing me to bring up to 3 adults with me.) But why this museum and
why now?
Daily Archives: July 20, 2003
The joy of cycling
After I skimmed Krista's Visceral Appeal of Public Transit...? , I gave her a call -- I had been away for couple of weeks but had been following her blog from afar. We talked about various issues about blogging, and I encouraged her (as I hope to here) to keep up the writing. Although I won't be able to respond thoughtfully to everything she's writing, I'm reading her blog. Much of what she is sharing might not elicit an immediate response; some piece might judge lodge in my mind until weeks or months later only to come together with a disparate observation or idea. But what Krista is writing will help us immersed in our car-dependence to see into the personal angle of living in a different and free way.
I do, however, want to jot a make a few points in response to Krista's post -- some of which arose during my own bike ride to and from church today. First, a quote from Krista:
The fact is, public transit actually does appeal to me on a visceral level (as do bicycling and walking)--and that's something that I wish I could convey better to others. The absolute luxury of having someone else deal with the driving and traffic (not to mention maintenance and liability) while I read, write, sleep, pay bills, or talk to a friend--sometimes seems like a kind of miracle. My survival instinct also kicks in here--I feel a lot safer in a train, on a track, than amidst hundreds of unpredictable independently moving high-speed vehicles (not to mention my own car's mechanical unpredictability)--and statistics bear out this instinct. The exhiliration of riding a bicycle, the relaxed pace of walking--these things also appeal to me on a deep emotional and physical level.
Today is another glorious summer day in Berkeley, an absolutely lovely time to bike. As I pedaled my way home today, felt the soft breeze on my face, watched a young couple holding hands on the street, I wondered whether I had ever seen TV commercials that tried to capture what I was feeling right then. Perhaps car fanatics will disagree -- but I find biking a much more connecting experience than driving -- joining me to the elements and to other human beings. All those car ads (I have in mind images of a SUV serenely rounding the bend on a country road, absolutely alone) seem much more farfetched than an ad I can imagine celebrating the joy of cycling. (Imagine this: Happy cyclist in moderate physical condition with broad smile, soaking in the sunshine, pedling past gardens, trees, other happy people, little contented children -- bonded together in a great human community. Cuts to cyclist arriving at home, "glowing" from the ride and from the knowledge that he or she has not only gotten good exercise without adding any noxious fumes to the air. OK -- I would make a terrible ad man....) Why aren't there more ads that touch on the visceral appeal of cycling? (How does BART advertise? Does Critical Mass advertise? How?)
And we haven't even talked about walking yet....
Ads on personal blogs: to resist or accept?
Lloyd on google ads in Phil's blog:
So it's a terrible conundrum, my friend. You are in need of funds for your life as a college undergrad, and yet... if what you've done becomes the start of a trend in weblogging space, then it'll ruin weblogging for me (and perhaps others) in a fundamental way. All of us are assaulted on every side by ads and commercials already, that I think it's important to keep some space sacrosanct. For me, that would be weblogs.
Or maybe I'm being awfully curmudgeonly in this regard. Why shouldn't commercialism penetrate every inch of virtual real estate on the internet and on the web? I feel like I'm sticking my neck out on a silly ideal and at the same time trying to walk through quicksand here.
I don't have as strong of a negative feeling against ads in blogs as Lloyd does. The fact that Lloyd reacted strongly against the ads does make me wonder whether I've acquiesced when I should not have to the commercialization of our lives. I'm not inclined to stick ads on my own blogs or websites (though if I ever use the Amazon associates functionality to let people buy books on my blog -- something I've thought about doing -- then my site will also be explicitly commercial). Then again, I wasn't planning to make money blogging. Now, that doesn't mean that blogging might not have longer range economic benefits for me -- by enhancing my reputation, by getting my name out there, by getting me my next job. Those prospects have certainly crossed my mind. Hence, because we're thoroughly economic beings, I suppose I just think of myself as a sophisticated navigator of the medium -- and just overlook ads (or click on them, knowing full well that by doing so, I'm participating in some economic exchange. I also don't feel the obligation to click on links just to help out students (but then again, they're not my students....).
All this sounds fine and well until the thought crossed my mind: how would I feel if I started to wear logos and banners paid for on my sports jacket the next time I give a talk at a national forum? It's certainly done right now, and I would be a bit taken aback if speakers somehow started doing that. One might ask, "well, why not? Professional athletes wear logos all the time...." So what's the difference between my being upset at an academic speaker saying "hey, I'm sponsored by XYZ Computing" and Phil's google ads? (I'm sure there is a difference but I can't tease it out yet....)
It’s Bach’s fault
I still hope to make it to the 10:45 service of First Presbyterian Church on time....If I don't make it on time, it will not have been the first time that I'm late on the account of Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier or Mass in B Minor or one of his cantatas. I know that corporate worship is important, and all of my upbringing should keep me from being late. Nevertheless....