Blog

Short blog posts, journal entries, and random thoughts. Topics include a mix of personal and the world at large.

How much for Mulan?

Would you pay 30 dollars to stream Mulan from the comforts of your own home?

I wouldn’t, but I sure bet lots of families will take up Disney’s seemingly expensive offer. Even just two persons splitting the cost would be roughly the same as a typical movie ticket at a theatre; for a family of four, 30 dollars to watch a brand new movie release is a screaming bargain (won’t have to pay for overpriced concessions, either). Indeed it’s easy to get initially surprised at the $30 dollar price, but upon further review, it’s rather inexpensive.

My group of friends are already discussing plans to get together to watch Mulan, splitting the cost however many which ways. Probably not the wisest for social distancing and avoiding gatherings, but we too are young and stupid. At least we’re not having massive lake parties in Wisconsin.

Disney may have just released the floodgates for other studios to do the same for their respective tier-one slate of films: the House of Mouse announced yesterday the often-delayed Mulan will be released to the masses not in theatres, but on the Disney+ streaming platform. Due to the ongoing COVID-19 situation, theatres aren’t opening back up anytime soon, and one surmises Disney saw a pathway to profit via their own platform, so the trigger finally got pulled.

The company can’t wait forever for theatres to open again when massive production and marketing costs are burning a hole in the expense column.

Of course, Disney is not the only major studio to have their own streaming platform, and depending on the success of Mulan’s digital-only release, other studios may follow suit and put out their slate of backlogged films - due to COVID - on streaming for a premium price. Universal have already tested the waters with Trolls World Tour earlier this year to great success, but Mulan represents the first true “blockbuster” to receive the digital release treatment, and how it does financially will be a bellwether for other major films. Perhaps Wonder Woman 1984 will be available to watch for $30 on HBO Max come this Fall?

I’d certainly pay for it. One such movie I would wait until however long it takes for theatres to open back up, however, is Christopher Nolan’s Tenet. Movies shot with actual IMAX cameras deservers to be viewed in an actual IMAX theatre.

Before others wake up

One of the joys of shifting to an earlier sleep-wake schedule is the ability to take the GT3 out for a drive before most other people have even gone out of bed. Such was an occasion this past Sunday, the first time I’ve taken the 911 out for a spin since I’ve shifted my sleep schedule ahead by two hours. I’d forgotten how serene it was to be amongst the few on the road during those ungodly hours; the gas station I filled up the car in was almost deserted, and en route to the mountains the freeway was nearly empty.

This is my kind of meditation.

To have done almost two hours’ worth of driving before the clock strikes 9 AM is something to relish: most of the time it was just me on that piece of mountain road, no slow cars to block my advance. In the background is the gradual transition of the rising sun, from a grey morning dawn to an intensely realized daytime. The interesting colors bouncing off the foliage is unique to these hours, and I find myself actually slowing down the pace to enjoy the beautiful sights. Once I’ve stopped at a turnout for a brief break, the morning air greets with a freshness like no other.

The cooler air in the morning is savored by the car as well: the GT3’s atmospheric engine sings a sweeter tune during those hours of the day.

9 AM signals the time to return home for breakfast, and as I am driving to leave the mountains, on the opposite direction were many cars heading towards where I’ve just been, folks starting their Sunday of recreation in nature. I smile slyly at the fact I’ve beaten these people to it, that I’ve already had my fun, without needing to contend with other patrons of the mountains for a mere parking spot. In fact, I had the entire lot to myself, a thing that’s well worth waking up early for.

I can say that shifting my sleep schedule is one of the best thing I’ve done in this super weird year of 2020; silver linings and whatnot.

IKEA trip

The problem with preferring to buy physical copies of books instead of digital (sorry, trees) is that there’s never enough shelf space to house it all. Eventually I have to start shoving the new ones into drawer, and how esthetically pleasing is that? Isn’t the whole point of physical books is to show them off in book cases and shelves? How else are people going to know I am a learned being and I read a ton.

Joking aside, I do enjoy the library-like feel of having books on display, and in the never ending battle to procure more space, this weekend found me at the local IKEA store. There is a sale on the famous ‘Billy’ bookcase, and since I am an Asian always in search fo a bargain, the time was perfect to make the trip to East Palo Alto.

Not forgetting it’s still very much coronavirus season, I was curious at how IKEA is handling the flow of people in and out of the premise. The solution was rather simple: an amusement park-style queuing system, with a snake-like barricade system, and of course, six-feet of space in between each person/familiar group standing. It was indeed like waiting to in line to ride a rollercoaster, right down to the fair warning at the beginning that it’s a 30 minute wait until the absolute front.

Once inside, both sections of the IKEA store - showroom and warehouse - is open, though obviously the people flow is far reduced compared to “normal” times. You can even head straight to the warehouse section now, where previously they always forced you to walk through the showroom first. Knowing precisely where the bookcase I seek was located, I head straight for that aisle and section, bypassing the opportunity to walk through the second floor showroom.

After checkout, it was then another queue - with social distancing - to get into the elevators and back down to the ground floor where everyone was funneled to be parked on; you can’t have too many people stuffed into one like we’ve done previously. I would say the whole shopping experience was a bit strange, but not too much of a bother. I didn’t realize how much I had miss the simple task of heading to a store and buying something (that isn’t groceries).

With a new shelving in hand for more books, I am ready for the at least another year’s worth of purchases. Bring it on.

No more Amazon Prime

After nearly a decade of subscribing to Amazon Prime, starting with a measly student account way back when, I’ve recently decided to not renew my membership with the online shopping giant. Including taxes, the annual fee for the privilege of having items shipped to my doors for free in two days (among other perks, admittedly) have ballooned to $120, and in this year of all years (hello, coronavirus), I am not seeing the value in paying that.

Ever since the pandemic started, I’ve been super conscious about spending, so my Amazon account is sort of just languishing, with hardly any purchases made. Even at the times I did purchase something, I’ve selected the slow shipping method, out of some sense of moral obligation to not further overload the surely massively overloaded system. If I didn’t need something absolutely right away, then I can wait the few extra days. These warehouse workers and delivery persons have a tough enough job without me adding any additional unnecessary burden.

Hashtag virtual signal.

So with utilization having gone way down, and getting comfortable again with slow shipping, (I was never a big watcher of Prime video) the forces combined to allow me to stop subscribing to Amazon Prime. The clock has turned back to the early 2000s, and I have to accumulate over $25 dollars worth of product in order to get free standard shipping. No more impulse purchases or last minute buys like a box of paper clips shipped to me on the same day, which is quite okay and not really problem in the grand scheme. How’s this for a novel idea: if I need a particular item immediately, I can physically go to a store!

In the beguiling voice of Stefon: these days, Target has everything.

I bought the AirPods Pro

Yesterday I did my first big superfluous purchase since the COVID lockdowns began. That is, if we are not counting paying just under $1,500 a month to keep a Porsche GT3 I can’t drive on most days as a superfluous purchase. Not until I eventually buy a house (god willing) would I pay so much a month for a stationary object. My advice? Don’t be a car enthusiast; don’t have passion for material things at all: it will be a massive drain to your wallet.

But that would be quite a dull life, wouldn’t it?

Anyways, I’ve been doing well to not spend extraneously since the coronavirus situation began, in preparation for a hugely uncertain future. What broke the streak was a deal on Staples for the AirPods Pro: $50 dollars off, bring the price down to a slightly more palatable $200 dollars. While I wouldn’t say I’ve been pining for a pair of these earphones - I have a set of the original AirPods and they remain quite magical and lovely - the AirPods Pro have always been something of a nice-to-have. The standard AirPods are rather useless in crowds and areas with a lot of noise, and the Pro version supposedly solves that problem splendidly, offering a deeper in-ear seat and active noise cancellation.

I’m looking forward to going on a run with AirPods Pro; no longer would I have to crank the volume to an uncomfortable level simply to drown out the outside noise.

After informing them of this purchase, my friends asked what am I going to do with my basic set of AirPods. The answer is simple: continue using them. They remain great for quiet settings such as my room, and brilliant to use for Zoom meetings. AirPods feels so much more natural than the cumbersome and unsightly headsets that people tend to use with virtual meetings. The only gripe is that the battery drains super quickly when performing both talk and listening at the same time.

I can’t wait for the AirPods Pro to arrive next week; I’d almost forgotten what a joy it is indeed to spend disposable income on nice things.

Long term automotive goals

On the car forum I frequent yesterday - The Car Lounge - a user posted a question of “What long term automotive goals are you planning for?”, which created quite a thread, with many users chiming in with their respective plans and dreams for the future. It’s rather nice to see people remaining hopeful and optimistic, amidst these times of huge uncertainty, though I guess it’s a biased representation: those that have lost a job aren’t wont to post about their future car plans.

We count ourselves lucky.

Because of the massive uncertainty caused by the current COVID situation, my own long term automotive plans are quite simple: pay off the GT3 as soon as possible. Now is the perfect time to pay down debt: monthly expenses have gone way down since the lockdowns began, and with future prospects murky at best, I want to be as prepared as possible. That means to not be encumbered with a huge car note, should I need to move or find something else to do. Fortunately, I have about a new entry-level luxury sedan’s worth of payments left on the 911, so I have to say this plan is going quite well.

And if I come out of this coronavirus pandemic unscathed, then the plan is to keep the GT3 forever - it might be the last “fun car” I buy. With the automotive industry heading towards a landscape I don’t particularly like: turbocharging and electrification, is there even an opportunity to upgrade for those of us who preference analog feel and naturally-aspirated motors? My 911 is plenty fast as is, and it presents a level of enjoyment that I think I can be satisfied with for a very long time to come - I bought it with the intention of it being the “forever car”, after all.

Should I need another car for commuting purposes, I’ll likely lease something super cheaply. Contrary to popular belief, the automobile can indeed be just an appliance for us enthusiasts; each type of car has its purpose.

Right now may not be the best time to be reading this book…

The art of doing nothing

As for as weekends go during these time of the coronavirus, I try to stay home as much as possible. Aside from the requisite run for groceries (got to eat, right?) and the occasional drive of the GT3 to keep its battery in top shape, weekends are spent at home, limiting exposure to the outside. Anyone with a functioning twitter feed would know the COVID situation in America is still far from ideal, so even though the strict lockdowns of early Spring have since expired, I’ve thus far have stuck to those same habits. The coronavirus is not something I want to catch, even if statistically I am very likely to survive it.

The problem then becomes I quickly run out of things to do at home. Not one for marathon session of television shows or video games, the weekends have started to get rather boring. I’d find ways to entertain myself, and lately it’s coming up blank more often than not. What I failed to realize is that the scenario as it is presented may perhaps be perfect already: I should simply do nothing if there is indeed nothing to do, though apparently that’s easier said than done.

I’ve been so trained on what people call “hustle culture” that it feels utterly wrong to have idle time. Spare hours outside of work should be allocated towards self improvement, in whatever form that may be: reading a novel, learning how to code, or working on a “side hustle”. We’re told that’s the recipe for success in life, and this is why it’s so awkward to not do anything on the weekends. When you’re used to business on the weekdays, i’s surprisingly discomforting to put a stop to that work for a few days. There’s an immediate sense of inadequacy, as if I am not doing enough.

But I am. On top of the regular job (which in it of itself is quite taxing), I do read books, study a language, and write every single day during the work week. What I need to understand is that weekends are not meant to be a continuation, but instead, it’s a stop; a moment to break up the monotony and introduce some balance. During normal times this would be easy: I can go outside and hang out with friends, but during COVID times, when more often than not I’d be twiddling my thumbs on Saturdays and Sundays, it’s difficult to not want to be “productive”.

It’s okay to be bored and do nothing; not because I’ve earned it, but because that’s just how it goes.