The SkyRun 56k
Everything's a go in Zimbabwe. And here.
Eli 24.4 starts at 4 a.m. Saturday morning. All the races of various distance start at the same time, which is great, because he'll have fewer stretches by himself. He'll be greeted by excellent weather except for a significant chance of rain. He'll already have been running for eight hours (at least) by the time I start, and I got lucky. The weather here will be cold but entirely tolerable.
I don't really know how this will go. If he doesn't get the 70,000 steps he expects, I may be in big trouble, because I'm not sure I can put in more than 30,000.
It's just walking, though. All I have to do is keep walking.
The Headington Shark: Late-Breaking News
David Gloier let me know that the shark has actually been in that house since 1986. Incredible!
The
Wikipedia entry has lots of interesting information. Oh, and its length? 25 feet.
Oxford (3): The Headington Shark
You find the funniest things in the strangest places, sometimes.
We had a long discussion at a pub on graduation night about the Headington Shark. In Headington (only a few miles from Oxford), a man decided--for unknown reasons--to put a fake gigantic shark through his roof.
None of that was a typo.
The city council fought him on it for 5+ years and finally gave up. Which is how the shark now has a permanent residence in Headington.
The discussion (with three of Eli's friends) was long and complex. The neighbors must all hate it, we agreed, but what could they do about it? I suggested they put animals through their own roofs (a giraffe, for example) in hopes of driving down the shark's novelty. We went into such detail that it almost approached Shaq v Gorilla complexity.
The next morning, Eli 24.4 was running 30k as part of his Zimbabwe training program. I felt quite ill, but couldn't stand the thought of being in the room for hours while he was running, so I decided to go see the shark. About six miles, round trip.
Less than a quarter mile from Nuffield, I passed a prison nearly a thousand years old, which had tours prominently advertised. In fact, I could go in and see one in ten minutes.
Let's see. Thousand year old prison, full of history and unforgettable lore? Or a shark through a roof?
It was an easy choice. Off to Headington.
What they don't tell you about Headington, though, is there's not much else to see in Headington. Not the part I was in, at least. And once you've walked nearly three miles to see a shark, and you look at it for thirty seconds, there isn't much to do except turn around and go back.
That thirty seconds, though, was glorious:
That's not a small shark, as you can clearly see. I both felt awe at the sheer zany stupidity of it all and tremendous empathy for the neighbors who have to put up with it.
Greatness, as always, has its costs.
Oxford (2)
Oxford is a remarkable place, particularly on or near campus. You're in the company of so many highly intelligent, hilarious people, and every conversation is interesting (a detailed discussion of the Headington Shark--which I'll tell you about tomorrow--followed by a deeply philosophical discussion of advanced directives, for example). It's totally unique.
The Harry Potter tourists that blanket the shops around campus are neither amazing nor unique. That part isn't so great, and Eli 24.4 said it was a light time for tourists (who were absolutely everywhere). He said you can't even walk on the sidewalks in summer.
One of the things that consistently happens near campus is seeing something that you'd literally never see anywhere else. Like this:
The person on the right is walking down the street holding a scepter. Business as usual here.
Plus, there's the architecture:
The buildings are centuries old and look like something out of the seventeenth century (or sooner) because many of them are. It's utterly memorable.
Everywhere we went, Eli was welcomed as a friend. Teachers, administrators, friends, even places like coffee shops or retail shops he frequents. He's filled his life with healthy, friendly, warm people. It made me so happy to see. He said once that Oxford was the place where he felt like he most belonged, and I understand why now.
Oxford (1)
Sorry, it took me a while to get to this because I've been sick.
I can hardly keep up with Eli 24.4--he sent me pictures yesterday from a trail run where there were giraffes and zebras--but let's go back to Oxford first.
I've shown this before, but this is the theatre (the Sheldonian, designed by Christopher Wren, built 1664-1669) where the ceremony was held:
Waiting in line, seeing all the people in line to celebrate their kids (now adults), I started tearing up. Everyone seemed to have two parents and grandparents and siblings, and Eli had...me. I felt so bad that Gloria wasn't there, too. She deserved to be there.
This is the inside of The Sheldonian:
It's shockingly beautiful. Hard to comprehend, really.
Eli walked in, saw me, and waved with a big smile on his face.
This graduation ceremony was first performed over eight centuries ago, and the only change has been the addition of a presenter explaining why most of the ceremony is in Latin and why there's so much doffing of caps (it's done as a sign of respect).
I did everything I could to not start crying, even though I was tearing up quite a bit (later, Eli told me he'd been doing the same). The arc of his life is hard for me to fathom in moments like this. He's so young, but what a life he's already had.
Here we are after the ceremony.
I don't think either one of us could have been any happier.
I Had a Clever Title, But It's Been Forgotten
Eli 24.3 is leaving for Zimbabwe tomorrow for the
SkyRun, which is 56k of incredibly difficult ultra-marathon. He'll be there for a week to acclimatize to the altitude, and the race is on December 6.
We talked on the phone this week about family records.
We have family records for everything (all held by him or me), and also have an endless amount of fun talking about them.
"I wish we had a combined record," Eli said. "Something my kids and their kids would have a real challenge to beat. Like a combined 100,000 step day."
"Maybe the time for that is past--"
"Wait a minute! I'll probably get 70,000 steps during the race."
"Uh-oh, I see where this is going," I said.
And so it did. On the day he runs the ultra, I'll be chugging through Manhattan, trying to reach 30,000 steps to get us to 100,000.
I haven't walked 15 miles in one day in a long time, but we did do 24,000 steps one day in Japan. And it's an opportunity to walk the length of Central Park and all the way down to the Financial District. I think I can get through it.
Here's hoping, anyway.
A Star is Born
We're hate-watching a show on Netflix called The Beast In Me.
Everyone involved in the show mailed it in--writers, directors, producers. The actors, too.
Well, except for one striking example.
"What that episode needed was more Steve," I said.
"They're giving him less and less screen time," C said.
"He's the only one doing his job. They're really handcuffing him with the script. I mean, he barked when the bad guy came in, so he's suddenly not going to know he's behind a door? He can smell him! Why isn't he barking?"
"There's no chance he doesn't smell him," C said.
"It's embarrassing that he's having to do this lowbrow show, but actors have to work. I bet he looks at this garbage script, puts his paws over his eyes, and does everything in one take. He's the only professional in the entire series."
"Has he been in anything else?"
"I don't know. I wonder if he has an IMDb page."
Jimmy Cliff
Jimmy Cliff died.
Cliff wrote and sang many beloved songs (including The Harder They Come, Sitting Here in Limbo, and You Can Get It If You Really Want).
My favorite song of his, though, was Many Rivers To Cross.
Many rivers to cross
But I can't seem to find my way over
Wandering I am lost
As I travel along the white cliffs of Dover
It's a melancholic, mournful song. Heartbreaking, really. On the album version, with the organ in the background, it sounds like a hymn.
He was only twenty-one when he wrote it.
For years, I thought the first lyric was Many rivers to cross/But I can't seem to find my way home.
That accident made the song deeply personal for me. When you're introverted, it never seems like you find your home. Nowhere is right. Everywhere you feel like the other, the odd one out, the one who doesn't belong.
It haunts many of us our entire lives.
The correct lyrics are beautiful--a masterpiece, really--but it meant even more to me because I got it wrong.
Friday Links!
Leading off, an outstanding read: A Theology of Smuggling: In the early 1980s, in Tucson, activists and religious leaders joined forces to protect refugees at the U.S.-Mexico border. Their collaboration galvanized the Sanctuary Movement.
This is tremendous: Pizzastroika: In 1990, in the last breaths of the Cold War, a delicious act of American subversion unfolded in Moscow. It’s long been forgotten. It shouldn’t be.
A long and fascinating read: The inflammation age: Acute inflammation helps the body heal. But chronic inflammation is different and could provoke a medical paradigm shift.
Excellent: The deepest South: Slavery in Latin America, on a huge scale, was different from that in the United States. Why don’t we know this history?
This is stunning: The evolution of rationality: How chimps process conflicting evidence.
Skip Hollandsworth is an amazing writer: The Hunt for the Serial Killer of Laredo,
From Sean R., and it's dark: Investigating a Possible Scammer in Journalism’s AI Era.
From Wally (Don Bluth rabbit hole alert): Don Bluth Talks ‘Somewhere Out There’ Documentary and Future Production Dreams. Interesting: The ARC Effect: When Free Books Cost Honesty. This is excellent: Lessons About Power from Middle-earth (Tolkien and Lewis). I like Gabe, generally, but not this: Gabe Newell caps off Steam Machine week by taking delivery of a new $500 million superyacht with a submarine garage, on-board hospital and 15 gaming PCs.
Oxford (1)
I'm still not well, but here are a few pictures from Oxford to hopefully tide you over until Monday.
Flying away from NYC at night:
That looks much better when you enlarge it than it does at this size.
Here's the building where Eli 24.4's graduation took place (the Sheldonian Theatre, designed by Christopher Wren in 1663).
I promised a picture of us, so here you go:
This is Eli's college at Oxford (Nuffield) at night:
And to keep it classy, there's this:
Book!
I'm a bit ahead of schedule with the current set of revisions on
This Doesn't Feel Like the Future.
After significantly rewriting part one, part two has also been edited, and I'm moving on to part three. The goal is have to a fully cohesive draft by the holidays, which gives me about five weeks.
These drafts are different, though. I'm moving pieces around and changing emphasis, but I'm not adding much now. A bit perhaps, but it dwindles with each successive draft. I'm able to be much more focused at this point because there's less correction needed. I still have concerns (I always have them), but they're dwindling, too.
Still probably looking at fall next year, or the holidays, but it's not so long after already working on it for (I think) four years.
Then, another game, but I may take a break of a few months first.
Celebration and Plague, Intermingled
The trip to Oxford was fantastic. Truly wonderful.
I also don't recommend taking eight-hour plane flights twice in five days. Unless special circumstances demand it, of course, as they did.
I have plenty of pictures--including one of a celebrity shark--but it will be a few days because I'm sick (I believe I may have been sick already before I flew over). I powered through it, including almost 30 miles of walking in three days, but now I'm wiped out.
Sharks. Strings hanging from ceilings. Hot water. All these things will be discussed, as well as plenty of pictures from Oxford, which is an entirely unlikely combination of super-intelligent people, various citizenry, and Harry Potter tourists.
Complicated.
Oh, and Eli 24. 4 now his has Master's degree, after a ceremony which has been performed for over five centuries. Also, the University of Oxford was in existence several centuries before the founding of the Aztec Empire.
That was not part of the ceremony.
Valve
Valve announced a slew of hardware last week: the Steam Machine (a powerful mini-PC), the Steam Frame (a standalone VR headset), along with new controllers for each (the new Steam Controller, which you can see in the Steam Machine article I linked, looks particularly excellent).
Here's what I don't understand, though.
Valve basically prints money because they are an extraordinarily dominant distribution platform. They're the best, by far. Their profit margins must be enormous.
Hardware, on the other hand, is expensive. The profit margins are much lower. And PCs are ubiquitous. How much of an additional market could they possibly be opening up?
They might be trying to make inroads into the console market (they mention aiming for "console pricing"), but that will be a very tough nut to crack.
I'm glad they're doing it because innovation is always good for the market. I'm just a bit baffled as to what the financial case is for Valve.
