Tough Crowd: Forecasting In North Korea

kimmetoffice

Blown forecasts are the bane of a meteorologist’s existence. Painful! I’d bow my head in shame and speak in a softer than normal shout after a miss.

I’ve apologized for blown forecasts more than once. Everyone knew.

Some of you have personally made sure I understood your anger. Not easy to deal with.

However, I’ve never had Kim Jong-un as my boss&#185. In North Korea he’s the last word in everything.

Quoting the BBC:

Kim Jong-un says there have been “many incorrect forecasts” because the Hydro-meteorological Service’s methods aren’t “modern or scientific”, state newspaper Rodong Sinmun reports.

Ooh. Bad employee review.

The North Korean leader says weather service staff must “fundamentally improve their work”, because good forecasts are needed to “protect the lives and properties of the people from disasters caused by abnormal climatic phenomenon”

Must I explain how downsizing works in North Korea?

After a bad forecast I’d try not to go out in public too much. Seriously. No one wants to subject themselves to that!

But North Korea. Tough crowd.

&#185 – The lovely and talented Ann Nyberg often called his late father, Kim Jung-“Mentally”-Il.

I Can’t Handle The Tooth

Parts of my mouth were immovable objects! I looked like a stroke victim. I could drink, but only if I was willing to wear the drink as it dribbled toward my chin.

My plan for today was to write about the new PC which is up and running.

Nope. Bigger fish to fry.

Today was my follow-up from last week’s journey into endodontics–Root Canal II.

I have been through this procedure before and yet I fooled myself into thinking this was some sort of “turn your head to the left and cough” type of event. Nope.

Dr. Cha had to open the tooth and head back in. Gas first (my sixties simulator) and then two injections.

If I could just relax as he did that!

Oh, who am I kidding. I tightened like a clam. My fingers and toes curled inward in an uncontrollable reflex.

When he went to inject me again I asked if, maybe, he could work with just those first two shots. Again, who am I kidding? By this time my gums were totally dead to the world and there was no additional discomfort.

Though going to the dentist is never fun (sorry guys) at least Bruce is good company. We talked about Korea and his family’s escape from the north. We talked about baseball. We talked about my teeth as I watched him work via the monitor on the ceiling. I like that he answers technical questions with technical answers. I am always curious–even about what’s happening to my teeth!

As I left the office I realized I had to work on-the-air. Parts of my mouth were immovable objects! I looked like a stroke victim. I could drink, but only if I was willing to wear the drink as it dribbled toward my chin.

I arrived at work and found Dr. Mel still there because of heavy rain and the chance for strong thunderstorms. He sat for some on-air teases until I began to feel the tingling that signifies the shots are wearing off.

After the first part of the root canal I needed ice for nearly a week. Hopefully this pain will be much more short lived.

In the meantime here’s to Advil and ice. They’re what keeps me going.

The World Traveler Calls on IM

I was on IM at 3:00 AM when a new window opened on my screen. It was a friend of mine. “I’m in Seoul,” he said.

“So, you’re a soul man,” I replied (using the cheapest joke I could think of. He’s in Korea for some sort of conference.

We didn’t chat for long, but he said I should go. It was the kind of place I’d enjoy… a country which resembles a gigantic Best Buy&#185. I look upon much of Asia that way.

The guy in Korea is someone I’ve known for 25 years. During that time he’s traveled everywhere for business and pleasure, including a few years living in Europe and more living in Asia.

He travels enough that my daughter suspects he works for the CIA. I don’t think so, but it’s a good fable.

There aren’t many things that bring out envy in me, but this is one of them. I’m not sure I need to travel enough to get extra pages added to a passport – I’d just like to need a passport. I’ve been to England once and the Caribbean many times. That’s pretty much the extent of my long distance travel.

I’d like to visit Oriental Asia – China, Japan, Korea, the Malay Peninsula, maybe Thailand. Sure I want to come home with electronics and optics, but I want to see where it happens. Photos and videos I’ve seen of teeming Asian cities are enticing.

Quite honestly, I don’t know what I’d do once I got there!

Europe doesn’t hold quite the same attraction. I can’t say why. Maybe it’s Europe is so 19th Century and Asia is so 21st. That’s no more than a guess.

Helaine says I probably wouldn’t do well on a 24 hour transpolar flight. I’m not sure I disagree. That’s a long time to have your knees in your chest, sleeping sitting up. My Southwest Airlines miles won’t help. I certainly know this trip isn’t her priority.

My on-the-road friend will be back in the states this weekend. It won’t be long before he’s traveling again. He racks up frequent flier miles like they’re going out of style. Maybe next time he’ll shoot some photos.

&#185 – His characterization. Obviously, he doesn’t know about the screaming match I once had inside a Best Buy. “Go ahead, call the police!” was one of the things I yelled. Need I say more?

Buying Computers In A High School Gym

My first computer show was in Atlantic City, NJ. You want to know how long ago it was? It was pre-gambling!

Since that time I’ve been drawn to out of the way… strange places… where computers are sold by the people who build them.

Over the years I’ve spent significant money in these computer shows. Mostly I’ve bought parts – little bits and pieces of computers. But I’ve also brought people to these shows so I could talk them through buying full systems (often assembled right there).

I’ve gone to them in school gyms, hotel ballrooms (and its adjacent swimming pool) racetracks and fairgrounds. If you had an unused, open space on a weekend, a show was going to take place.

The amazing thing for the promoters was, they could charge the vendors and charge the attendees! Yup, you paid for the privilege of buying.

Yesterday, my dad and I attended one not far from here and this might be my last.

We each paid $5 to get in. He bought some disk labels for $10 and I bought a very cool, lit, optical mouse for $8. The spark is gone.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately – it depends on which side of the table you’re on) most of what was only available at these shows is now available online and in brick and mortar stores. The prices online are cutthroat. The advantage of a local show is gone… at least to me it is. I saw nothing I can’t see here on my PC.

I was surprised this last time to see some software that was surely bootleg. And I looked at some merchandise that was more expensive here than elsewhere. In fact, when I got home, I bought two more mice for $5 apiece.

It’s a shame because there was always a bit of an outlaw feel to these shows. You were getting a real deal, buying from someone who was also getting a good deal because his uncle or brother or cousin lived near the factory in Taiwan or Korea.

Like I said, I’ll be surprised if I go back.

Root Canal on Tooth Five

It’s a good thing I haven’t named my teeth. Over the years I would have cried for some of them. They have been poked and prodded. Some have survived, some have died, others have gotten a makeover.

As it turns out, my teeth are numbered. I didn’t know that, but when the periodontist sent me to the endodontist, good old number five was getting the work. Number five is on the upper right (from my perspective) side of my mouth.

This all began when a pea sized bubble mysteriously appeared on my gum. I’ve had no pain, but I did have an infection. Within five seconds of seeing the x-ray, Barry the periodontist said root canal was in order. Different specialty – go down the hall to that other office.

My appointment was this morning at 10:00. A few days ago they called to ask me to be there fifteen minutes early to fill out the paperwork.

I am Geoff. However, when it comes to insurance, my drivers license, and my mom when she’s angry, it’s Geoffrey. So, Geoffrey filled out the forms.

I had met Bruce the endodontist before. He had previously renovated another sick tooth. I have no idea what he was doing in my mouth, but I had 100% confidence in him. This is the kind of thing, I suppose, you can sense in someone.

Originally from Korea, where he first became a dentist, he came to the United States and had to train again. He is bright, focused and unbelievably gentle. This is no small feat. Not every dentist is gentle – and it makes a huge difference.

I also like Bruce because he’s a techno guy. He might not admit to that, but it’s true. The last time he worked on me he took pictures of the result with a digital camera. Now his office had a digital x-ray machine with the results displayed on an LCD screen that also hosts the office’s business system.

Up high, where a patient lounging in the chair could see is a flat screen TV. Only in a dentist’s office is the remote control wrapped in clear plastic.

Much of this was wasted on me because the first thing I did was put on the mask and start breathing nitrous oxide. I don’t drink, so I can’t be sure, but this has to be a little bit of what being tipsy is all about.

As soon as the gas took hold, he gave me two injections on the upper gum. I hardly felt them. Certainly, I have never felt any injection less.

The entire root canal took a little over an hour – and that’s it. Two hours of no eating for the filling to set and I’m good to go. Well, not exactly. A root canal is always followed by a crown, so there’s more fun ahead, I suppose.

I drove home, still a little woozy from the gas. A few hours of rest and time for the anesthetic to wear off, and now there’s hardly any discomfort at all.

I am truly amazed.

Manchurian Candidate

“Raymond Shaw is the kindest, bravest, warmest, most wonderful human being I’ve ever known in my life.” That is the line, recited word-for-word by each man who served with Shaw, which piqued Frank Sinatra’s curiosity in the original Manchurian Candidate. The fact that they all said it, while still remembering Shaw was totally unlikeable, was only part of their subconscious conflict.

Today, my curiosity piqued, I went to see the new version (not a remake, as much of the detail of the story has been changed) with Helaine. It’s a great movie. That not withstanding, I’m sorry I brought Helaine along. It is violent, suspenseful, very intense and not what she wanted to see.

In the original movie, Raymond Shaw (Laurence Harvey) is captured along with members of his unit, fighting in Korea. It is the Chinese (hence the title) who brainwash them all, sending Raymond home to assassinate a presidential candidate, allowing his stepfather to run in his place.

Angela Lansbury, as Raymond’s mother, plays one of the most evil and believable villains I’ve ever seen on the screen. The sexual tension between mother and son makes the whole thing even more disturbing.

Having this much respect for the original I went today expecting to be disappointed. I was wrong. The movie scores on nearly every level.

Liev Schreiber as Shaw brings the same distant, cold, aloof feel as Laurence Harvey’s original portrayal. He was brought up with privilege and power and no connection to the common man. He is devoid of warmth or compassion.

Denzel Washington is Major Ben Marco, the Frank Sinatra role from the original movie. You’ve seen Denzel playing this part before; the honorable man in a troubling situation. It works here.

Meryl Streep is not Angela Lansbury. I guess it’s unfair to even make the comparison because Lansbury’s original portrayal was so amazing – something I’ve never seen her come close to replicating.

Still, the role is intense and evil. And, the scene where she and her son come perilously close to a passionate kiss is as unnerving as similar imagery from the original.

I’ve heard a lot of people (including my wife) say that Streep’s role was modeled on Hillary Clinton. I actually didn’t see that – though I wasn’t particularly watching for it.

The interesting twist here is the center of the evil, originally Communist China, is now replaced by a multinational company which looks very much like Halliburton. There is no doubt that director Jonathan Demme went out of his way to make a number of analogies to our current administration. We’re not at the Oliver Stone level here, but approaching it.

The end of the movie, the portion past the actual climax, confused me. But, by then, the movie had made its points. Without it, Denzel Washington’s character would be dead, and I don’t think the producers wanted that.

The bottom line is, I recommend this movie… but with a huge proviso. There were a number of intense, sometimes gory scenes that I looked away from. If that kind of movie troubles you, stay away.

Another “Phishing” Expedition

The term is “phishing.” A phony email is sent, purporting to be from a company you do business with, asking for private information. I wrote, only a few days ago, about a bogus note from Bank of America. Tonight, it’s Citibank!

Dear Citibank Account Holder,

On January 10th 2004 Citibank had to block some accounts in our system connected with money laundering, credit card fraud, terrorism and check fraud activity. The information in regards to those accounts has been passed to our correspondent banks, local, federal and international authorities.

Due to our extensive database operations some accounts may have been changed. We are asking our customers to check their checking and savings accounts if they are active or if their current balance is correct.

Citibank notifies all it’s customers in cases of high fraud or criminal activity and asks you to check your account’s balances. If you suspect or have found any fraud activity on your account please let us know by logging in at the link below.

I’m not a Citibank customer, so I knew immediately this was bogus. Even if I had missed it, Popfile called it spam. Good job!

The last time I put one of these up, McAffee Virus Scanner stopped some people from getting to my site, so I’ve eliminated the link in this one – it’s phony anyway!

Today’s phishing expedition originated with email sent from an account on wideopenwest.com, a high speed Internet service provider (like cable modem or DSL) here in the U.S. The link on the email opens a form that looks exactly like a Citibank form (in fact, it’s probably taken from their site), but it sends the posted data, including credit card and pin, to a site in Korea!

We’re rapidly approaching email meltdown! How long can commerce survive in this untrustworthy environment?

—-

01/11/04 10:38 PM – I have just reported this incident to Citibank via their weblink. I’ll let you know if they respond.

Kennedy Assassination As a Universal Experience

I remember, with vivid clarity, the moment I found out about John Kennedy’s assassination. I am not alone. It has been said that no one who lived through November 22, 1963 will ever forget where they were, what they were doing, when they found out.

For me, it was a sunny, late fall day, in Mr. Friend’s classroom on the back side of the first floor at Harold G. Campbell Junior High school. In New York City school names are ceremonial, at best. It was JHS 218 or JHS 218Q (for Queens).

Mr. Friend was told first and he relayed to the class that Kennedy had been shot. That’s all we knew. I can’t speak for the class, but I can tell you that whatever I thought at that moment, I wasn’t grasping the significance of the moment or that anything more could happen.

It was a time when TV news was much less crime and picture oriented. The grit and grime of violence may have been played out every day in the Daily News or Mirror (in 1963 the New York Post was a liberal newspaper which tended to play toward organized labor and its causes, not crime and debauchery)… but I read The Long Island Press, published in Jamaica, Queens. Violence outside of war didn’t exist as far as I was concerned.

November 22, 1963 was the day newspapers lost their position as ‘news of record’ for most Americans to television.

The windows from our classroom faced east, across open space and toward Queens College. Within a few minutes, someone in the class noticed a flag at Queens College being lowered to half staff. That’s when it hit me.

We were dismissed early and I began to walk home. I know I was with friends… maybe Dennis Westler, possibly Marty Ingber. I’m not really sure but I know I wasn’t alone. We discussed the fact that the president was dead and Lyndon Johnson, the vice president, had suffered a heart attack. I know now that was wrong – I didn’t then. We speculated what would happen. I was 13.

Still, we were discussing facts and the emotion had still not hit me. We were cavalier.

As I came home and turned on the TV, I realized this was major. All regular programming was gone. News, in a somber manner, was on all channels. Slowly, from the adults around me, I began to become aware of the gravity of the situation. We all sat, glued to the television.

Though I was born during the Truman administration and remember Eisenhower in a sketchy sort of way, Kennedy was the first president that I really knew. My parents were good Democrats in a lower middle class area of trade unionists who were also Democrats. The huge apartment complex we lived in, made up of dozens of three and six story buildings, was financed and built by the Electrical Workers Union Local 3 and called Electchester. Our friend Morris Scott, on the first floor of our six story 72 unit building, was a Transport Workers Union and Democratic functionary. He was not an exception in Electchester. The two went together.

During the campaign for the 1960 presidential election, Kennedy spoke at a campaign rally at Parsons Boulevard and Jewel Avenue, a block from our apartment. I found the photo on the left at an NYU site – amazing it’s preserved on the net. The facade of the building behind Kennedy is from the Pomonok Housing Project, which was across the street from us. The camera is shooting from the SE to the NW, across the intersection. My memory is of a huge crowd, but I was 10 at the time. This busy intersection was closed and a wooden platform was built.

Richard Nixon had nothing to gain by coming to my neighborhood. He was everything we weren’t, Kennedy was like us, though nothing could be further from the truth.

Anything I thought or felt about Kennedy during the campaign was based on those things that affect a ten year old; my parents, grandparents and the folks we lived around. I knew nothing about his policies, politics, social standing or any of the things we know today… and there’s no doubt we know a hell of a lot more today.

In my sphere of influence, Kennedy was like a god. I know that sounds foolish or naive now, but that’s the truth. To me, he was much larger than life. And he was the first adult I knew of to die tragically.

I had tickets to see a Broadway show on the Saturday following the assassination. It was probably my first Broadway show. Like the NFL schedule the next day, Broadway went on. In hindsight, both football and theater performances were bad ideas. Even so, with a bunch of my classmates and Mr. Friend, we boarded the bus for Flushing and the IRT subway (actually it was mostly above ground) to Times Square to see “Enter Laughing.”

I now know, this show was an autobiographical sketch from Carl Reiner. Then, who knew who Carl Reiner was? I remember it being funny in an irreverent sort of way, but the day being gray and gloomy in every other sense.

Sunday morning we sat home in our tiny apartment, 5E. I lived in an apartment with only a northern exposure. At no time in the 16 years I lived in this apartment… and decades longer my parents lived there, did we ever see the sun!

The TV in the living room, our only TV, was tuned to CBS. Along with millions of others, I watched Lee Harvey Oswald being shot, live. Being live, coast-to-coast, from that Dallas Police Department Garage was quite a technical achievement 40 years ago. Today, we see the videotape replay as grainy, dated black and white. Back then, it was live and vivid. Grainy black and white was the norm.

I was stunned. We were all stunned. How was this humanly possible? Today’s metal detecting, secure area-ed society was light years away. I had never seen a pistol, but in Texas, they were much more the norm.

Monday was the funeral. I think my dad was home, which was not a scheduled day off from work. Certainly every school was closed and my guess is most businesses too. By this time we had a common grief and stunned disbelief in what had happened. If it is possible, I remember being a 13 year old who was depressed.

The country stopped for the funeral. It struck me then, as it does now, that there are people who actually know how to plan an event like this with the proper protocol and deference to tradition. What a morbid field of expertise.

It was an awful, rainy day in Queens on that Monday. The funeral was long and sad and more than anything else I remember the riderless horse, the muffled drums and the crying. We’ve all seen the photo of John Jr. saluting. I believe that was only seen by still photographers. I don’t think we saw that live.

People think it was live because it’s been published and seen so many times. A similar situation is the film of Apollo 11 landing on the Moon, with dust flying and the shadow of the lander on the surface. That too was never seen live on TV, though we did hear the voices of the astronauts and Mission Control.

Five or six years after the funeral I was marching down those same Washington streets, protesting the war in Vietnam. In 1963 there was no thought that you might protest what your government was doing. But after JFK’s assassination, everything changed.

Lyndon Johnson became the president and used the Kennedy aura to pass Civil Rights legislation that began to bring this country out some draconian policies that survived even the Civil War. Johnson also inherited Kennedy’s involvement in Vietnam, which would be his undoing as a president. The war accelerated, halfway around the world.

Before Kennedy’s assassination we were innocent and invulnerable. World War II had taken place without any conflict reaching America’s shores. Korea too was fought far away. The strength of our military, combined with the breadth of the ocean, protected us from harm. But now we found that harm could come from within and that nothing would ever be safe again.

A generation only knows about the assassination through Oliver Stone’s movie. Shame on him. Shame on them. Stone’s powerful use of the medium told America a lie, packaged as the truth.

Forty years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday.

(This entry originally posted November 22, 2003)