Adulting

I wonder when did it begin the transition in becoming more “adult” and being less cavalier with money usage. Back in my college days and earlier in my work career, not only did I spent every dollar I made, anything I want to purchase, once reconciling with the finances (at least I wasn’t leveraging credit cards to the hilt), I’d simply go buy it - no hesitation whatsoever. 

These days, there’s immense amounts of hesitation. Big spending purchases are only done after massive amounts of analysis; pro and con chart, utility factor, and asking the ultimate question: do I really need it? Many times over I could’ve bought new wheels for my Miata, but prudent sensibilities have overruled and won out repeatedly. A stunning new OLED television would be splendidly nice indeed, but my now ancient 1080p set still soldiers on after five years. The five year ago me would’ve bought it already (precisely how I came to own the TV), without any feasibility study. The rationale was simple: if there’s a want and the bank account agrees, then it’s mine. 

That mind-set has evolved. For example recently it took weeks to make the final decision on a new iMac. 

Perhaps it’s all the books I’ve read about the dangers of materialism and how one should have financials in reserves in case shit hits the proverbial fan. Or perhaps I’ve come to realize that plenty of the items I bought back when didn’t necessarily add to my permanent happiness. It’s fleeting is what I’m attempting to say. Buying car parts and modifications just may be the stupidest thing ever when considering I don’t even own that car anymore. The current car remains, hard as the mind tries, completely stock. 

I now see my little brother at the same stage in life: in the midst of college and having a part-time job with no worldly adult stuff to worry about. When boxes with Amazon Prime taped over arrive home at regular intervals, it’s quite the nostalgia. 

Retirement for the iPod

Today, Apple discontinued the iPod Nano and iPod Shuffle. If not officially, but certainly de-facto. Customers can no longer purchase the two varieties of the legendary music player on the Apple Store. The iPod Classic has long been put to pastures, and now the lone remainder of the lineage is the  “why are you buying this instead of an iPhone” iPod Touch.

The first-generation iPod Nano remains the most elegant and best designed iPod ever. I’m only sad that I never got to purchase it because at the time I had the full-monty fifth-generation iPod. That was a treasure as well. 

I’m actually surprised that Apple still sells iPods at all. The device has had a glorious run, but these days the smartphone does everything an iPod can and you get a phone for free. Even for someone like me who have thus far resisted the transition to streaming services and still have in silo over 150 gigabytes worth of songs, the contemporary iPhone comes with the requisite storage capacity to store all of it. It’s been years since I’ve had to carry an iPod to accompany the iPhone due to lack of capacity. Don’t lie; if you love music at all, you did that too. 

I love vinyl, and at the time compact discs with skippable tracks without waiting as you would a cassette tape was a revelation, but nothing expanded my love of music quite like the ability to access thousands of tracks on a device the size of a skinny deck of cards. There’s simply no replacement for convenience, which is why no one outside of headphone-amp huggers complain about the quality of an mp3 file anymore, and music streaming apps have take over. 

Long lived the iPod. 

I can't eat Asian food in the States

One of the downsides of traveling often to Asian and obviously eating all the wondrous food over there is that I’m left with nothing once I come back. For sure there’s many varieties of Asian cuisine available here in the States, but they naturally fall far short in comparison to the real McCoy. I’ve yet to eat a meal of Korean food since I’ve came back from Seoul a month and half ago, because I know I shall be disappointed. 

And it’s not like I’m trying to be an asshole or super snob about it; if friends invite me out to eat and it happens to Chinese food I’m not going to decline on the principle of the food here not measuring up to the same dish I’ve had in Hong Kong. That would be rude. A misfortune regarding the  Asian continent is that it’s literally on the other side of the planet, making traveling to an immense effort in planning and monetary exertion. 

Which is why I’ve come and must tolerate the Asian food in San Francisco, because really, what option have I got? Certainly not ‘baller’ enough to be jetting to Asian every few months, nor have the requisite time-off from work. Perhaps an existential employment purpose of mine is to be one of those working digital nomads that can travel anywhere. Then I can be in Asian at any moment I desire. Hashtag goals, as the kids say these days. 

Non sequitur: I’m currently on the third book of a three volume set on Winston Churchill by the late William Manchester. It’s really getting into the meat of the action, as the book commences with the advent of Churchill finally assuming the Prime Minister position, and Hitler about to blitz into France. Excited to chew through it all. 

The quest for trilingual

Learning a language, goes without saying, is supremely difficult, especially when you’re already beyond what’s considered prime learning age. Of course I’m of the opinion that one’s never too old or otherwise to learn, but let’s face it, and I speak from experience, learning a language - even a second language - was drastically easier when my age count were still in the single digits. 

So what’s it like learning a third language in my late twenties? Constancy. Dreadful constancy. Because I preside in a predominantly English speaking part of the globe and the language I’m learning (Korean) is decidedly not the common tongue, I do not reap the golden benefit of immersion. Ergo in order to dedicate the sufficient of amount time necessary, multiple hours per day, every day, of study, listening, and speaking is required. It’s practically a part-time job. This isn’t the typical college one-hour class three times a week and done sort of endeavor. I’d forget it all soon as you walk out the door. 

I’ve had to put in the time, Malcolm Gladwell style. There’s no shortcuts around it. 

It’s been and continues to be massive amounts of fun, though. Like solving a puzzle, there first moment i was able to watch a Korean television program without the assistance of English subtitles was absolute magic. I don’t precisely remember that joy when I was learning English in my late singles and early teens, but back then the pendulum was swung towards necessity than genuine desire to learn. That’s simply what immigrating to America at a young age entails. Freedom of choice is a wondrous thing indeed. 

The Civic Type R has 20-inch wheels!?

One my biggest pet-peeves when it comes to modern automobiles is the needlessly enormous wheels that comes standard in cars, performance-oriented or otherwise. Why in the world does the new Honda Civic Type-R require 20-inch wheels? The car’s 235/30R/20 tires are practically rubber-bands, and surely the wheels themselves would explode at the first moment it passes over a modern city pothole.  

I’m old enough to remember 18-inch wheels were the gold-standard in performance cars, whilst any wheel sized 20 and above where the domain of automobiles frequently purveyed by rap stars and sports figures. I understand completely that having a thin-sidewall tires mean less flex and sharper turn-in, but automaker’s have got to balance that with the realities of contemporary road conditions, otherwise the car’s ride would be horrendous. A Ferrari road-car that seldom sees the road? Sure, give it the biggest wheel with the skinniest tire as you please, but not in a mass-produced hot-hatch like the aforementioned Civic Type R. 

If my ND Miata can offer the most sports-car purity this side of the wallet to a Porsche Cayman, all the while running on positively tiny 16-inch wheels shod in 195/50R16 spec tires, then there’s simple no excuse for other brands. 

Except there is, and I found it when I saw a base Jaguar F-Pace SUV running on base-model 18-inch wheels: it looked horrendously tiny. The reason automakers put unnecessarily large wheels on cars is the design dictates it! Engineering probably had no choice but to comply with design dictum even though deep down I’m sure engineers know how absurd it is. Colin Chapman would. 

I eagerly await someone to put some aftermarket RAYS wheels in 18-inch sizing on the Civic Type R. My guess it’d save many kilograms of weight (stock wheels are nearly 30 pounds each), but from a visual standpoint, likely lopsided and top-heavy. Blame the designers. 

Dunkirk is a masterpiece

Finally got to see Dunkirk earlier this evening, in IMAX of course, and the film is a cinematic masterpiece. Just the visuals alone is worth the price of admission. Director of Photography Hoyte van Hoytema is an absolute master in framing and light manipulation (handheld IMAX camera shots!). Add that to on-location filming in actual Dunkirk with Hans Zimmer’s heart-thumping score, it was as if I was watching a war documentary in VR, which is to say, utterly immersive. 

And (spoiler) to end the film with a narration of Winston Churchill's famous speech! Ah, so brilliant. As a sort of history-buff, it brought a smile to my face. 

Christopher Nolan does well indeed to interweave a story, hitting specific marks and rhythms to draw the emotion out of the audience. A more linear storyline would not have had the same amounts of gravity and impact. Nolan isn’t performing a show of history lesson per-se, but rather he is placing you in the drama, shaking and shattering your senses. Dunkirk in its entirety is as if the total chaos of Saving Private Ryan’s opening Normandy sequence was the whole of the film. 

You are utterly short-changing yourself if you don't see Dunkirk in proper 70MM IMAX film projection. It's the only medium acceptable for such a spectacle, to see the ideal that Nolan had in mind. People speak of heading to the theatre for the cinematic experience; watching films shot with an IMAX camera in a proper IMAX theatre is that epitome. 

RIP Chester Bennington

Chester Bennington, melodic front-man of legendary band Linkin Park, committed suicide. 

I haven’t been this crushed over a celebrity death since Robin Williams’ unfortunate passing, and in such similar way that Robin also couldn’t handle the weight of the world and had to kill himself, it’s just immensely sad. The only good thought I can possibly conjure up is that I wish Chester found the peace he sought. 

As Robin’s death ripped away a piece of my childhood, Chester’s untimely passing achieved the same miserable result. Linkin Park’s music got me through much of my teenage years, through all the angst, frustration, and confusion. The lyrics Chester belted was the figurative chicken soup to my teenage soul. No memory for me was more vivid than listening to ‘In the End’ repeatedly on September 11th, 2001, because on that morning I was cloistered in a middle school classroom with 30 other kids, confused as to why the World Trade Center is burning. 

Rest in peace, star.