Planet Olin

Parking meters are terribly designed.

There is no reason for a parking meter to display how much time is left. It should display how much time is left while you’re adding in coins, but afterward it should only say whether there’s still time or not. Why you ask?

-Cops should not be able to see when they can come back to fine me. That’s BS.
-I should not be able to fill it up again. That’s illegal.
-There is no reason that I would need to know how much time I have left. I’m not allowed to fill it up again anyhow…
-Friendly citizens should also not be able to help me out by filling up low meters - also illegal.
-And the biggest point. Thieves should not see how much longer I expect to be away. That’s ridiculous. Yesterday, my car was at the Park & Ride for 10 hours. I don’t want a thief to know that he has nothing to worry about until night-time. Ridiculous.

Thoughts? I have at least one counterargument for myself…

Permalink | Leave a comment  »

/mobile

Permalink | Leave a comment  »

"A word about my personal philosophy. It is anchored in optimism. It must be, for optimism brings with it hope, a future with a purpose, and therefore, a will to fight for a better world. Without this optimism, there is no reason to carry on. If we think of the struggle as a climb up a mountain, then we must visualize a mountain with no top. We see a top, but when we finally reach it, the overcast rises and we find ourselves merely on a bluff. The mountain continues on up. Now we see the 'real' top ahead of us, and strive for it, only to find we've reached another bluff, the top still above us. And so it goes on, interminably.

"Knowing that the mountain has no top, that it is a perpetual quest from plateau to plateau, the question arises, 'Why the struggle, the conflict, the heartbreak, the danger, the sacrifice. Why the constant climb?' Our answer is the same as that which a real mountain climber gives when he is asked why he does what he does. 'Because it's there.' Because life is there ahead of you and either one tests oneself in its challenges or huddles in the valleys in a dreamless day-to-day existence whose only purpose is the preservation of an illusory security and safety. The latter is what the vast majority of people choose to do, fearing the adventure into the unknown. Paradoxically, they give up the dream of what may lie ahead on the heights of tomorrow for a perpetual nightmare -- an endless succession of days fearing the loss of a tenuous security. ...

"At times we do fall back and become discouraged, but it is not that we are making no progress. Simply, this is the very nature of life -- that it is a climb -- and that the resolution of each issue in turn creates other issues, born of plights which are unimaginable today. The pursuit of happiness is never-ending; happiness lies in the pursuit."

/mobile

Permalink | Leave a comment  »

I’m committed to keeping a blog, but I’m dissatisfied with the way my blog is set up, and the content I currently have isn’t a best reflection of what I really want to talk about. I’m going to be re-doing the blog again and I hope bring it more in line with my real passions: Boston, wine, cooking/food, and politics, and less about science and technology.

I will most likely archive in a non-public location previous writings. While this goes against my belief that blogging is a form of journalism, and no journalist gets a chance to change the past, I feel a clean break is the best approach. I’m not issuing any retractions, just no longer making content available.

Let me be clear: I love what I do. I enjoy programming and have thoughts for new things all the time that would be fun spare-time tasks. But I just have other outside hobbies and interests that I enjoy spending time on as well. It’s not that I check my programming hat at the door: I just put on my food hat (and wine hat, and Boston hat) over it when I’m not at work.

Speaking of work, it’s worth repeating that any topics I discuss here are a reflection solely on me and not any company or organization I’m affiliated with.

After residing here for about 7 months, I present you with a compilation ofAbu Dhabi random facts.

Abu Dhabi literally translates to "Father of the Gazelle."  It is the name of both an Emirate and a City.  

United Arab Emirates (UAE) is a country.  An emirate is kind of like a state.  So, it's like the United States of America, just substitute "Emirates" for "States" and "Arab" for "America."

The Emirate of Abu Dhabi takes up something like 80% of the landmass of the UAE.  It's a big emirate.  Dubai is the next door emirate.  Dubai is the place with the tallest building in the world, the man-made islands in the shape of palm trees and countries, the indoor ski resort.  All the stuff you've probably heard of.  

Thus, Dubai is at the edge of everyone's tongue.  "How's Dubai?" They ask.  I say, "Abu Dhabi's great."  I don't think most people notice.  Dubai's the one that gets all the world press.  They have better PR.  

[Abu Dhabi/Dubai confusions don't bother me.  Just don't conflate them if you're arranging airplane transit...]

Besides having all the land, Abu Dhabi also has the large majority of the oil money. About 95% of the oil in all the UAE, which is about 9% of the world's oil reserves.  Crazy.

Abu Dhabi's economy is built on oil.  Dubai's economy is built on tourism, finance, and real estate.  Thus, Dubai screams louder for world attention, because the success of its economy depends on the world noticing it. Meanwhile, Abu Dhabi relaxes in its pool of oil and money.  

To be fair, Abu Dhabi realizes that its pool of oil and money will not always be there.  They are working towards muscling up their tourist attractions and  also building a "knowledge economy" instead, like Boston (biotech central) or Silicon Valley.  Masdar (where I am) is a large part of this master plan.  

Abu Dhabi has the highest per capita energy use in the world.  And the highest per capita carbon footprint.  (Yes, they even beat the good ol' USA.) Not to mention the highest per capita water consumption.  (It's all linked, really.  All the water here needs to be desalinated, which requires lots of energy.)

I wonder if I get points for being a fuel locavore here--all the petro-fuel in the buses I ride around in was produced only a few miles away.  Local consumption, right?  Hahahaha...I'm just kidding...

You'll also be happy to know that the city of Abu Dhabi has over 2,000 mosques.  I swear there's one every block, which makes sense because the majority of the population prays 5 times a day.  (I really like hearing the call to prayer ring through the streets...)

Less than 20% of the population are local.  More than 80% are expatriates.  From the Filipino cashier to the Pakistani taxi driver, and the Ugandan security guard, it's quite apparent this is a major destination for people who want to make money to send back to their families.   

But perhaps the most fascinating facet of Abu Dhabi is that it didn't exist 40 years ago.  Rather, there was a village of grass huts and about 1,500 residents.  It became a ghost town during the oppressive summer heat - residents would ride for days by camel to Al Ain, a nearby town with cooler temperature and more shade.  (It takes an hour to drive to Al Ain today.)  

Today, Abu Dhabi is a gleaming city of skyscrapers thick with six-lane rivers of traffic.  

The fascinating part is that so much of the oil wealth was distributed throughout the local population During the early oil wealth years under Sheikh Zayed, bundles of money (literally) were given to locals to help infuse the local economy with the wealth rolling in.  Apparently, "it was not uncommon to see local people walking out of the banks carrying cardboard boxes full of cash on their heads," according to Mohammed Al-Fahim, who wrote an autobiography about growing up in pre-oil Abu Dhabi and the changes that came afterward.


 Actually, the giving away bundles of money thing happened more than once.

Al-Fahim notes that each time it led to a "frenzied buying spree fueled by the oil wealth."  Some people invested wisely - built a nice house -- others blew it all on few flashy cars that became worthless in a few years.  Some people were really smart and opened car dealerships.  In fact, Al-Fahim's dad was in the car business.  

To give you an idea of the kind of explosive growth Abu Dhabi has experienced, imagine this: in 1966 his father sold about 200 tires.  The next year he sold 10,000 tires.  A 5000% increase.  Al-Fahim himself took on the family business and described what it was like to import cars and have them snatched off his hands when they rolled off of barges onto the still undeveloped sandy coastline.  If a buyer wanted a vehicle, "they would stuff bundles of cash into my hands, slip into the driver's sear and drive away in their new car."

Between describing the hardships of living in the desert and how the locals worked hard to scratch out a living, Al-Fahim off-handedly mentions, "Naturally, there was no domestic help as there is today."

In what other country has the local population gone from walking miles for brackish water to hired help as the norm?  I would bet that in the overwhelming majority of countries that discover oil, the wealth only reaches the wealthiest, most powerful top sliver of the population.  In this case, it reached everyone, who then turned into the wealthiest, most powerful sliver as the population boomed when more people arrived.


The government of Abu Dhabi certainly looks after its locals.  Sheikh Zayed was known for his generosity and compassion, and I think he's left an admirable legacy.  If you're local, and you get married, the government gives you a house.  If you want to study abroad, the government will pay for your tuition. (And it's common to hear people say, "There's no such thing as a poor Emirati.")

When I first arrived here, I resented a lot of the laws that favor the local Emiratis - double/triple salaries for locals over foreigners doing the same job, only locals can own land here, if you want to open a business, you need a local partner.  Not that I want to buy land or start a business here, -it just seemed like an uber elite high society making rules to maintain its own eliteness.

But now I'm impressed by how Sheikh Zayed set up regulations like these to ensure that the wealth benefited the locals, that the money from oil circulated in the local economy and didn't go straight to the pockets of foreign businessmen.  

It was really smart at the beginning, but these days, if Abu Dhabi really wants to become a "knowledge economy" they'd be wise to be more supportive of immigrants.  In my personal opinion, immigration is a huge plus for innovation.  The US is arguably the most innovative country in the world (the oil industry, electricity, the internet all have their roots in the US) and I think that a significant reason is because the US is a nation of immigrants.  

When different cultures mix, it becomes a more fertile ground for innovative ideas to break forth. (For more details, read The Medici Effect. Also, here's a Harvard paper that explores the links between immigrants to how innovative cities are--hat tip BoPreneur. "Immigrants are very important for US invention, representing 24% and 47% of the US scientist and engineer workforce," while the rest of the US workforce is only 12% immigrants...)

Finally, this ramble post wouldn't be complete if I didn't mention that robots are an important part of camel races in the UAE.  Once, camel jockeys were lightweight, starved children, but the UAE outlawed this practice and the children have been since replaced with robots that are essentially a remote-controlled hand drills attached to a riding crop. Technology to the rescue. 

I have no time for thesis research.  GROWL.

Drops of condensed breath rolling, hesitating, and then rolling again down the opaque steamed windows.

Walking into a roomful of dancers who turn in unison and respond with a call of "It's Gui!" with a round of clapping. Managing to respond solely by blinking in complete and utter surprise.

A pianist and a bassist, both with eyes closed, striking their instruments in perfect synchrony.

The jolt of energy and inspiration in a dance that comes from hearing raw, pure live music coming from just a few feet away.

The burst of adrenaline and fear that comes from knowing the flashing blue and white lights outside the window are coming for you.

A whisper-quiet room full of dancers, at first holding their tongues out of a fear of the police cracking down again but slowly, slowly learning to hold their tongues out of a new-found joy in the ensuing silence.

The raw, fully-connected energy of being the middle of a group of absolutely silent dancers working as hard as they can just to hear and move to every. single. quiet. note.

Fairly compensating, appreciating and taking care of the musicians who helped make the night incredible.

Watching a pair of almost perfectly still dancers stand out in a roiling crowd, their only movement being the brush of her ankle up the back of his calf.

Being the one who played the perfect song to inspire her ankle to slowly brush the back of his calf.

Watching the dancers on the floor throw down intricate, inspired movements to your music, even though the clock is pushing 4 AM.

Feeling like, even though it was put together and announced only days in advance, you and your friends still pulled off the hottest house party you've ever been to in Boston, hands down.

Feeling like you wouldn't want any other scene but your own.

Going to bed at 5:30 in the morning a happy, happy man.