2011

Get healthy: This may seem ambiguous, and when I started it was amorphous. So my first challenge was to define it. At the beginning of last year, I didn’t feel like I was eating healthy and felt like I was lacking stamina and strength in my karate workouts. Step 1, make lunch healthier. Cut down on the chips, the carbs, the soda. Step 2, add a walk at lunch. Can’t fit it in every day, sometimes shorter than others. Step 3, find a timeslot to add an extra workout during the week. Monday nights seemed to work in the garage in the summer and in the basement through the winter. Result: one year later, I’ve dropped about 20 pounds but even more important I feel healthier. I feel different than a year ago and I’ve been able to integrate the changes I made into my lifestyle.

Turn 40: This might seem like a given, it was just going to happen on a certain day regardless what I did or didn’t do, right? Was a time when I was young and stupid and reckless and age forty seemed very far away. Somehow, none of my bad decisions resulted in anything too serious or damaging. And now I feel less like “over the hill” and more like ready for the next chapter.

Climb Mount Washington: My Facebook friends have seen the post. Effectively, this goal was a capstone to the “Get Healthy” goal. When we visited New Hampshire in 2010, we drove to the top of Mount Washington, and as I saw people coming off the trail at the summit, I knew I had to take a shot at it. I had done a fair bit of hiking in southern California but that was…well about a decade ago, maybe a bit more. Still, driving to the top of a mountain is the easy way. With the help of a friend, we set off from Pinkham Notch Visitor Center where it was clear and 70 degrees. At the summit, it was 39 degrees (22 degrees when factoring in the 86 mph wind) and visibility was all of 50 feet or so. But again, if it was easy, would it mean as much?

Earn my karate black belt: This is a goal I did not achieve last year. I did not put enough time and preparation into it. I’ve been studying karate for 10 years, but in Seirenkai karate we aren’t just awarded rank based on how many classes we’ve been to or number of pushups or particular drills. So this is a different kind of challenge; not one that can be achieved like climbing a mountain simply by putting one foot in front of another.

2012

Earn my karate black belt: I didn’t achieve this last year; did you think I’d give up on it? Hell no. I’ve been working on putting more effort and more focus into my karate. Every step is a chance to succeed or a chance to learn.

Climb Katahdin: Climbing Mount Washington last year got me into the hiking kick again. I also climbed Mount Greylock in November. That’s two of the six state high points in New England (and Connecticut and Rhode Island aren’t much of a challenge). Katahdin will definitely be as much of a challenge as Mount Washington.

Learn to play guitar: Something I’ve always wanted to learn, and given my fumble fingers, definitely a challenge. But, nothing ventured nothing gained. I’ve been at it for a few weeks now, fitting in a few hours in between other evening commitments of family, work, karate, and Airport Commission. I’m still a long way from rocking out “Stairway to Heaven”, but I guess you’d call it a work in progress.

Stay healthy: What’s the point of achieving something if you’re just going to turn around and forget about it. The nice thing about the approach I’ve taken to feeling healthier is that it has set up a positive feedback cycle. The changes I made, I’ve integrated into my lifestyle, so they aren’t really changes anymore they’re the new norm.

What are your goals? One thing the past few years have taught me is that you may not always have the time you think you have, that tomorrow is not guaranteed. And life is too short to spend it on the couch watching TV. Now, it’s time for me to practice guitar.

The presentation that Master Dunne gave was on the importance and pursuit of kime. In particular, many of us may remember a photograph of a shotokan master executing ago yoko geri. Naturally, the kicking leg is fully extended with the sokuto edge of the foot well-positioned to deliver a very decisive blow. But what Master Dunne added to this was the observation of everything else focused on the target. The eyes, the hands, the back foot; all of the energy, focus, and power is directed at the target of the kick. Master Dunne highlighted this by superimposing lines from various points to the target of the kick.

Recalling that image, thinking about the literal translation of kime, and our emphasis in class, it struck me that both focus and power contribute to kime but only when aligned. Think of power as a vector, it has magnitude and direction. Focus also, can be thought of as a vector, with it’s own magnitude and direction. Now, if power is aimed in one direction, and focus is aimed in another direction, you get a certain result with it’s own magnitude and direction:

The result, if we’re going to use vector math, is: Power²+ Focus² = Result²

If you recognize that as the Pythagorean theorem, thank your math teacher.

Now, a result of 1.4 is slightly greater than the power put into the technique, but look what happens when power and focus are aligned:

That’s a substantial improvement! (Technically, the result vector overlays on top of the focus and power vectors, but I moved it to the side so it’s easier to see)

The challenge, of course, comes in directing both your focus and power fully at the same target. Concentrating power is an effort in itself, putting all of your physical energy into the technique. That ago yoko geri has power from the sokuto edge of the foot, but also derives power from the hands directed into the technique, the hips turned into the technique, the body leaned into the technique. Any of those pieces missing or misdirected, and it robs the technique of vital power. As seen in Master Dunne’s presentation, concentrating focus starts with the eyes. And there is a mental component as well, staying in the moment and focusing on the target.

Everything must come together to achieve the kime, that decisive movement, in the technique. As a student of Seirenkai karate, it is that concentration of both power and focus that I am working on in pursuit of kime.

As a licensed private pilot, I am required to perform a biennial flight review (BFR) every two years. It’s a proficiency and safety check by a certified flight instructor. Each time I’ve had to complete a BFR, I’ve done it with a different instructor and learned a little something new. For one BFR, the instructor I worked with had a particular interest in aerobatics. I should have known I was in for some fun when he said “Let’s get you out of your comfort zone, I’ve got the airplane”. And we proceeded to perform a series of ‘unusual attitude’ maneuvers.

What’s an ‘unusual attitude’? Think 45 degrees of bank with the nose high and airspeed dropping. You don’t have to be a pilot to know that airplanes don’t fly very well in that orientation. The instructor would put us in an unusual attitude, hand me the controls, and my job was to correct the situation and get us flying again. Other than seeking to find the limits of my nausea, what was he trying to accomplish? The lesson was, it only takes a slight adjustment to recover the aircraft. Inherently, an airplane wants to fly, and you don’t need to yank the controls around to force it to fly.

Consider a power-off stall (simulates a stall on approach to land). As the nose of the aircraft is held up, airspeed drops, the wings generate less and less lift until finally the wing stalls. You’re no longer flying, you’re falling. But a little nose forward, and you recover air flow over the wings and you’re flying again. If you’re not a pilot, it’s a bit difficult to appreciate just how subtle the adjustment is to achieve what you need.

How do I bring this back to my study of karate? There are two times we talk about center line; we apply techniques on the center line, or we break a person’s center line. I don’t want to go into too much detail about either case; again, I’m just a student. (Want to learn more, come join us in class!) But in both cases, as a student, there is frustration when you are working on a technique and it just doesn’t generate the result you’re aiming for. A technique applied on the center line can be very effective, delivering a lot of force or applying pain. Off center line by even a little bit, and you end up largely annoying your attacker and not achieving your self-defense goal. What I’m finding is that often, I’m off center line by a small amount, and a subtle adjustment, at the right time, can give me what I need. The challenge is making the adjustment fast enough so that I don’t end up wrestling. Trust me, wrestling with it when you are in a self-defense situation is not where you want to be.

So that’s one of the things that has been rattling around in my head recently, as I try to grow in my study of karate from doing more than repetition of techniques (also very critical) to thinking about what is behind them. And particularly in the case of center line, how subtle adjustments can make big differences.

The class focused on two main themes. First, mizu no kokoru (mind like water). This is a state of mind. The aim (I believe) is to declutter the mind but maintain a fluid awareness of one’s surroundings and environment. Alert, but not in tension. Aware, and prepared. We began the class with that thought, and then focused on self-defense that used flowing techniques, like water.

Now, this is where things really got interesting for me. My first two years out of college, I worked in a fluid dynamics laboratory. And as we proceeded through the class, I made a couple of observations tied back to my experiences outside the dojo.

• Water has power when it is in motion

Think of a tank of water. There is no active power; it’s stored energy. Breach the container, and you release that stored energy that is in the water. There’s power there, though it disperses pretty quickly over whatever it drains into. Now think back to those waves breaking on the shore. A lot of power, but also generated by a lot of water which has taken a lot of energy to move against the shore. But still, the point is that much of the power comes from the motion. As I worked out in class, what I found was that when I was able to maintain flow and momentum in my techniques, I was able to apply more power in my techniques. As soon as I paused, the momentum and the power was lost, and it took energy to get it back again. This didn’t mean I couldn’t change direction, but I had to find ways to do so without loosing the motion that was continuing the power in the technique; I had to redirect with flow rather than resistance.

• The power in water can be focused

Stick with me on this one, there is a pay-off in the end. A good portion of my work in fluid dynamics involved simulating torpedo explosions using high-energy electrical sparks. The premise was that you could inflict more damage by detonating the torpedo near an object than you could by actually striking the object. When an explosion occurs under water, the energy released creates a large bubble. As the water pressure causes the bubble to collapse, a combination of gravitational force and buoyancy creates a very high pressure jet of water which accelerates through the bubble. The collapse of the bubble is slow at first, but gains momentum very quickly which also adds to the force of this jet of water.

Want to see what this looks like? Click here for very short (geeky) video

Are you still with me? The point is that you’ve taken this very stable body of water, focused energy to create motion and let the power in the water and natural forces do the rest. Ok, now how do I relate this to karate? I’m creating motion, but now I need to focus it. In the style of karate I study, we talk about shorinji (points and circles). There are flowing, rounded techniques and straight-line focused techniques. But they’re not mutually exclusive, they can be used in combination. A rounded block or parry can flow right into a concentrated strike.

I’m at the point in my karate training where I’m finding that I do more than just the physical effort in class, but I’m also thinking a lot about what’s behind the physical techniques. In some ways, it’s taken on another angle, a more philosophical side. But I’m also hoping that in thinking more about what I’m learning and doing, I’ll be able to tap into ways to make my karate more effective.

The first time I was formally introduced to the concept was in relation to my martial arts training. During a seminar, I believe we were told “in order to learn, you need to be willing to make mistakes”. At the time, I probably thought I knew what that meant, but what I’m finding is that only recently is it really starting to fall into place. In recent training, I have been deconstructing techniques that I thought I knew, and approaching them with a fresh perspective.

I also connect this with another pursuit of mine, my training as a private pilot. When I was preparing for my checkride my instructor told me, “No matter what happens, you’ll come out of this checkride with a license. It will either be a white pilot’s license, or a pink license to learn.” I think from that point on, I looked at tests very different. A test is no longer the end point, but rather the beginning of the next phase of learning.

Now the question is, is there a difference between the “beginner’s mind” and an “open mind”. I think so, but feel free to comment with your thoughts. The distinction I draw is that a beginner’s mind is applied to free the mind of any preconceived notions in order to learn, whereas an open mind is one which has a wealth of knowledge and experience to draw from, but is open to all options in order to act.

As I was riding the train to work, I popped a quick status update on Facebook:

Felt good to explain to Benjamin why today is a holiday, and who Dr. Martin Luther King is. Hopefully we take another small step to fully achieving his dream with each generation.

Nothing earth-shattering. But after I posted it, I noticed my choice of verb. Even though Dr. King died in 1968, my mind considered him still in the present. I used is, the present tense of the verb “to be”. And that seemed to make sense to me. You can point to a time before a person lives, when they are living, and after they have lived. When someone has died is a specific event, a certain point in time. But the verb “to be” is different, in a sense it speaks to the spirit of a person. Even after they have died, they still exist in memories, photos, letters, descendants, even Facebook posts.

The same thing happened to me recently after my sister passed away a couple months ago, shortly before Thanksgiving. At a gathering with my wife’s family, someone asked me if I had any brothers or sisters. Instinctively, my first thought was, “Yes, an older sister and a younger brother.” I paused just a second, because I wasn’t sure that was still an accurate answer. But my next thought was, “Yes, I have an older sister and a younger brother.” Even though my sister has died she was, is, and always will be my older sister.

It brings just a touch of comfort. That instead of thinking of death as an extinguishing event, to continue to think of a person in the present, in terms of who they are and a continuing impact that they can have on life.

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

Arthur C. Clarke, “Profiles of The Future”, 1961 (Clarke’s third law)
English physicist & science fiction author (1917 – )

There’s an AT&T commercial I’ve been seeing lately which features snapshots of people using their smartphones (the Blackberry Torch in these cases) in different situations. “It says you like soft rock.”, “It says so-and-so bought the same dress.”, “It says it’s the second switch on the left.” And amazingly the lights go on thanks to what their Blackberry Torch “said”. Just like magic, right? I don’t think so…

Yes, technology is great. And it’s getting more amazing all the time. The power packed into mobile devices is accelerating the pace of our business and personal lives. But magic? Let’s go back to our AT&T commercial. “It says it’s the second switch on the left.” No, it didn’t. Some human put that information somewhere for you to find with your smartphone. The device is the vehicle for information, but the intelligence behind that information still came from a human somewhere along the line.

Writing computer programs is no different. I’ve been a software engineer for about 15 years, and in that time I’ve written some pretty decent applications. But they aren’t magic (well, there have been a couple really cool ones). I look at the software I write as tools to help people do what they need better, faster, more completely.

So, with all due respect to Mr. Clarke, instead of thinking of technology as magic that will read your mind to give you the answers magically, how about envisioning the world’s best Swiss Army knife? What amazing things can you do with the tools created for you?

Humorous sidenote posted to Twitter by Scott Hanselman: “All mankind’s achievements combine so that my 4 year old can carry a $600 pocket supercomputer that can make fart noises.”

The idea of a “mobile divide” interests me, and has for a while. Are there particular parts of the US where smartphones and mobile devices are more or less prevalent, and why? What about specific industries,  are there ones that have driven the adoption of mobile devices more, and those industries have hotspots around the country? I remember seeing a graphic that mapped iPad purchases a the time of the launch. Not surprisingly, huge volumes in the Boston-NY area and huge volumes in the Silicon Valley area. These are tech-heavy hubs.

Here’s another factor; lifestyle. One of the reasons my brother cited for not needing a smartphone is because he commutes by car to work, and so he doesn’t get that extra time in his day to work through emails. One basic aspect of his lifestyle, driving to work versus commuting by mass transit, makes an impact on his need or utility for something other than a basic phone. (Slightly related note: Don’t text and drive, I’m glad they are making it illegal in MA).

But the article that Chris wrote also raised another factor in the equation, which is availability of affordable mobile data plans. Are there places around the US (or outside the US) where access to advanced mobile technology is strictly constrained by economics? For a certain segment of the population, it becomes more of a matter of budgeting. My wife and I choose to spend that extra $30 a month on a data plan for our mobile devices, because we use them so much. As Chris wrote, who needs a map?

So what about you? Which side of the “mobile divide” are you on, and more interestingly, why? What are the factors that influence your use of mobile devices? Something I mentioned, or something I’ve missed?

So how did I shift to the iPhone? And how does it compare for me to the Blackberry which I had gained such dependence?

I’ve had my iPhone 4 for two weeks now, and I will admit the beginning was rocky. Some simple things annoyed the crap out of me.

1. I couldn’t simply look at it and know I’ve received a new message.  Blackberry has a simple indicator light. I can see it across the room. The iPhone, on the other hand, forces me to interact with it to get the same info.
2. The touch interface and the way apps present information should lead the user to the most likely operation. That’s fine if the user thinks like Apple. In the first few days with the iPhone I made a bunch of accidental calls by tapping on contact names.
3. Day after getting my iPhone, I went to New Hampshire for a few days, where AT&T service is pretty poor. My wife still had her Blackberry (she now has an iPhone as well), so comparing AT&T to Sprint service made me even more unhappy.
4. Battery life was really poor to start with, requiring me to charge the phone every night.

Almost sounds like 4 reasons to switch back, right? Not quite. In the span of a week, I’ve turned a corner, and am now quite happy with it.

For one, I’ve made my peace about the indicator light. It leads to crackberry addiction. Think about it, most of the time I’m in front of my laptop, where I also get my email. So I can do without another nagging indicator that yes I received an email.

I’ve gotten used to the interface elements on the iPhone. Not too hard, because I have had an iPod Touch for years and also have an iPad. Adding the phone element to the device was a minor obstacle to overcome. And now I’m tuning into shortcuts and taking advantage of them to make my use of the iPhone more efficient. I’m even getting much quicker with the touch keyboard.

Battery life will always be an issue. Turn on Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, and Location Services, and you’ll suck the life out of your battery in no time. Coverage will always be an issue, you’re at the mercy of the coverage map. The most important call when I was in NH, from my best friend who’s grandmother was in ICU, did connect. So when it mattered most, I got the call.

So that’s my take on it. It was a tough choice at first, but now it works for me. Have you switched devices recently?  Are you happy with the change?

Spring term, senior year in Aerospace Engineering at Syracuse University was a rough place to be. I was taking 7 classes, including Thermo 2 and Rocket Propulsion (an “elective” with the Dean of Aerospace). I was in the second half of Aerospace Design, which was a year-long course required of Aero students in which each student was required to complete the design of a 150 passenger commercial jet. Most of them ended up looking very much like a Boeing 737. In addition, I was also working 2 different work-study jobs; dining hall supervisor and overnight dorm security. I was also required to take Aerospace Propulsion with Dr. T. Q. Dang.

I remember the first day of class, Dr. Dang diagrammed the internals of the engines on the SR71 Blackbird. The SR71 Blackbird utilizes a ramjet at supersonic speeds, but a more conventional jet turbine engine at subsonic speeds. I was fascinated. This was real stuff, this was where theory left the pavement and took flight. But it was also just the beginning. Propulsion was no joke. But what I remember of the course was Dr. Dang’s ability to make the very complex information accessible, even to a student such as myself with no spare braincells.

I showed up one Thursday morning for class (8:30am), after working a double shift of dorm security the night before. I had probably slept no more than 6 hours since the class on Tuesday morning. I had a cup of coffee, but I fully expected to struggle to stay awake. Quite the opposite! I was riveted by Dr. Dang’s lecture on force triangles within the turbine section of an engine. Everything was making sense, it was “flow”. And it seemed as if he was lecturing just to me.

Again though, the reality of it was, I was taking far too many courses to do well in all of them. By the time finals came around, I was failing the class on the basis of homeworks (though my projects and quizzes were reasonable). The grading was heavily weighted to the final exam. We were told on the first day of class the final exam would have 4 questions, and we were told the answer to one of them. So I walked into the final expecting I had one question locked up. Problem was, Dr. Dang left that question off. I had a reasonable grasp of 3 questions. On the fourth, I was stumped. I ended up starting from Newton’s third law, and deriving the entire solution from the raw fundamentals. But I still needed to pass Aero Propulsion in order to graduate. I went to graduation practice not knowing if I would actually have the grades to walk. Went from graduation practice to Dr. Dang’s office to find my performance on the final exam had pulled my grade up (almost to an A, I think). I might have hugged Dr. Dang, I know he could tell how excited I was. This was the last hurdle in my 4 year quest to call myself an Aerospace Engineer.

Richard Reeve asked a follow-on question, “What makes for an exceptional teacher?” which I didn’t get a chance to respond to. But to me, Dr. Dang was exceptional.

1. He saw I had the potential
2. He made sure he got through to me
3. He didn’t cut me any breaks
4. He celebrated my triumphs with me
5. He probably never realized the difference he made

That is the rest of the story behind my most memorable class and the exceptional teacher who taught it.