iPhone™ Envy? Not!

This is not another opinion piece on the iPhone™. I am merely capitalizing on the buzz, even as I write, concerning the newest product to be marketed as the latest and greatest personal technology must have. The latest? Indeed. But it only aspires to being the greatest. The latest seldom is. This is why I must not have it. At least not now.

I was recently astounded to discover that a software system for Monte Carlo simulation, which I had co-authored in a multi-man-year R&D effort and personally installed at a well known research institute, was still being used by that institute. This is sophisticated simulation software, functioning three decades after installation and a quarter century after all technical support for the system had ceased! Perhaps I may be permitted a modest claim: dat some robust technology, bro.

Now, where was I before I so rudely interrupted myself? Oh yes, why not get the latest? Because it is buggy. It is very buggy. Those who get the latest are purchasing, at a significant premium mind you, the privilege of de-bugging the system for the manufacturer. The best way to make your tech foolproof is to foist it on a mob of drooling fools who will beat the crap out of it and in the process identify most of the bugs. Then the revised version will be launched, and the same droolers will camp out to be among the first to engage in Phase II of the de-bugging cycle.

I know what you're thinking: so when do you avail yourself of new technology? My simple rule of thumb is: when it's been leap frogged. Today, for example, is a good time to get a robust version of Windows XP™, now that Vista™ is on the scene.

If you must have an iPhone™, wait until Google™ Phone is launched. Avoid the ultimate technology. The penultimate is best.

Remembrance in Spacetime: Awakening

On January 13, 1986 I woke up in my new apartment in Los Alamos, New Mexico. It was a new day, in a new town, in a new part of this great big country of ours. The next day I was to begin my new position as Staff Physicist in the Applied Theoretical Physics Division at the Los Alamos National Laboratory. On this day my plan was to take stock. Of my life.

In a little over a month I would be 44 years old; definitely middle aged. From age seven on, I had been a New Yorker. I had a Bachelor's degree from Cornell, and a Master's and Doctorate from Columbia. I had been married and divorced. I had two young sons back in New York who, along with their mother, relied on my alimony and child support. The alimony would continue until my ex wife remarried. The child support would be required until both sons finished college. That was our separation agreement and that was my personal obligation to my sons as I viewed it.

My first job out of graduate school was like a post doc position. Although I had been a staff scientist at a private corporation in New York, the salary lagged that of my colleagues' who had accepted positions at national labs or similarly established organizations. But what concerned me most at this stage of my career (and life) was that that first significant position of my professional career had provided no retirement benefits. And, that I had a 4-figure net worth.

Although I had been a full-time student for a quarter century, I now realized that my student days were not over yet. I was sorely lacking in personal financial savvy, and, unbeknownst to me, had previously been enrolled in the school of hard knocks. On this particular first day of the rest of my life, I decided on a long-term personal mission: I would educate myself in the basics of personal finance and investing; I would continue to make good on all my financial obligations to others; and I would begin addressing my personal financial obligation to myself, namely, preparing for retirement. Clearly, there were lots of pizzas and peanut butter sandwiches in my future. In effect, I had enrolled in The Peanut Butter School of Life University.

F*ck 'em if they can't take a joke

I might have been a baseball fanatic at age 13. Today, I just give a cursory glance to some of the MLB records, whenever a current major leaguer is poised to reset one. Barry Bonds is poised to break Hammerin' Hank's career home run mark, which is arguably one of the top 3 MLB records, the other two being Joltin' Joe's 56-game hitting streak, and Barry's own single-season home run record.

In reminiscing about the excitement of having a hallowed MLB record approached, I am constantly jolted from my reverie by the ad nauseous mediacrity (media mediocrity) concerning his alleged use of steroids. Alright already, so maybe he used steroids. If that is of major concern to you, ignore his approach to the record, and hold his eventual reset of it in contempt, if you feel you must.

In my opinion, any person living in a free society such as ours has the right to engage in self abuse, however it may be defined, with the important proviso that s/he not impose on the individual rights of others. Americans are governed by the rule of law, both legally constituted and implicit in the ordering principle of society. The latter comprises the inherent rules of our free market system. If Bonds' new record is deemed a heinous blemish on our national pastime, capitalism will remedy that.

How so? The reason lies within the core of the "pastime" --- money. The fans who are contemptuous of Bonds will presumably lose some of their inclination to support financially their passion for the game. If this becomes a significant impact, the owners will be less willing to support financially another such contender for any record. And a large number of players will be influenced to forsake such "tainted" assaults on any record, knowing that the accomplishment will be less generously rewarded and less highly regarded by the fans.

If, however, the loss of fan interest is not significant, the game will proceed as before, and the hue and cry of the mediacrity will have been a false alarm. But for those of us who simply can't get worked up about someone else's self abuse, it's just a pain in the mass.

Remembrance in Spacetime: Like a New Birth of Freedom

Oddly enough, one of the most important events of my life occurred on a day that I don't remember, just as no one remembers their own birth. I do remember that my parents had been studying, with my help, for their citizenship examination. The examination turned out to be very easy (with questions such as, "Who is the President of the United States," President Eisenhower having been the correct answer then). My parents had no trouble satisfying the requirements, and they became naturalized American citizens.

Being 13 years old at the time, however, I was more interested in the fortunes of my beloved Brooklyn Dodgers, who, as luck would have it, won the World Series later that year for the very first and, sadly, only time. As I recall, the Dodgers won the first two games against their arch rival New York Yankees, then lost the next three. But, incredibly, they managed to come back from the 3-2 deficit (never before accomplished in a World Series) to win the last two games of the seven game series. The New York Daily News hailed their accomplishment on their front page with a full-page cartoon of a bum and the headline, "WHO'S A BUM!" My full year of happiness, however, was terminated the very next year, when the Yankees took their revenge on the Dodgers in only the second time that a series was decided by a team winning the first two games; losing the next three; and winning the final two.

I became a naturalized citizen of the United States by derivation from my parents' own naturalization on May 13, 1955. Being a minor, American Citizenship was granted to me through the action of my parents --- like "a new birth of freedom."