A good rule of thumb:
The less time you spend on a Photoshop joke, the better.
I’m still working on a law that governs how to name laws after oneself, but I don’t have a good name for it yet.
See Garrity’s Law of Eponymous Laws
A good rule of thumb:
The less time you spend on a Photoshop joke, the better.
I’m still working on a law that governs how to name laws after oneself, but I don’t have a good name for it yet.
See Garrity’s Law of Eponymous Laws
I’m only just starting to catch on to what is an obvious pattern: if a person’s thing is being a jerk, they are a jerk.
When someone’s public persona is primarily defined by being the one who will ‘say what no one else will say’, or ‘isn’t afraid to step on toes’, they’re probably just a jerk.
Jerks can get a lot done quickly. They don’t have to consider others, or explore other perspectives, or learn and grow from their own mistakes.
I’m not passively-aggressively writing about a particular person. I’m fortunate to not cross paths with many jerks in my life.
This is my extension to Maya Angelou’s “When people show you who they are, believe them the first time.” My humble addition is that when people pretend to be something all the time – they may well be what they pretend.
If we someday find out that Larry David was an awful person (I don’t actually know), then my theory will be validated. Hopefully I’m wrong.
Much as I documented my life in cars, I’m writing here mostly for my own benefit. I have this guitar that I love, but there is limited information about it available online. I want a canonical place to link to when I write about this guitar. This post will be that canonical link, for myself at least.
My guitar is a 1990s-era Yamaha Pacifica 102S. It isn’t some rare gem. You could buy one like it, or similar, at most music stores in the 1990s. You can still buy a modern Pacifica from Yahama today, but only in Stratocaster-shape (double-cutaway) or a signature model variation, still in the single-cutaway shape.
The Axebition reference page has the basic specs of the 102S. Wikipedia has some general info about the entire Pacifica lineup. The basic specs of the guitar, as far as I can tell, are as follows:
MI02314.Of all of these, the specs that matter the most to me and that I would look for in other guitars include:
I’m not one for too much customization. In my digital work setup, I like to swim with the stream with as many of the default settings as possible and only change what really matters to me. There’s a cost to customization. You ‘own’ the change – maintaining the change, ending up with a unique set-up that makes it harder to work in other environments.
It’s the same for me with my guitar. Over the 20+ years I’ve had this guitar, I have made a few small changes. I’m not confident doing anything that involves cutting, filing, sanding, or anything else that isn’t easy to un-do.
I have made these small changes:
I don’t regret any of these changes, but none were dramatic changes to the playability of the guitar. They did reduce my wanderlust for buying another guitar though.
The basic specs and my trivial modifications aren’t what make this guitar special to me. Rather, it was the story of how I bought it and the music I made with it that have made this guitar special to me.
I bought it from the long-defunct Matthew’s Music in Charlottetown. I remember seeing it, playing it, loving it, and then proceeding with a characteristically-bad price negotiation on my part. It was listed for $370. I asked the clerk if he would take $400 including taxes. He instantly replied: “Sold! Now that’s how to do business!”
I obviously left money on the table.
I paired this guitar up with a Fender Hot Rod Deville 4×10″ tube amp (it was so loud), and a few pedals (most importantly, a Big Muff Pi pedal) for most of the playing I did with my high-school band, Horton’s Choice. This same setup was used for the recording of our ill-fated (but special to me) album, The Borden-Carleton Sessions.
I later traded that amp down to a Traynor YCV40 40-watt tube amp that I hoped would be more manageable for playing around the house. This was still way too big and loud, as most of my playing happens when kids are sleeping these days. I later tried out a Fender Mustang Micro headphone amp (good), and settled on a Positive Grid Spark 40 modelling practice amp. This works well as a plenty-loud-for-the-living room amp, a digital interface for recording and modelling on the computer, and as a headphone practice amp.
I’m still happy with this old Yamaha Pacifica 102S guitar and haven’t played a guitar I’ve liked better. It’s got another good 20+ years in it yet.
Just as the best camera is the one that’s with you, the best guitar is the one you play. My primary guitar is a inexpensive Yamaha Pacifica 102S that I bought sometime in the late 90s. I have upgraded few parts (tuners and the nut), but those upgrades didn’t make a huge difference, and were mostly driven by YouTube-fueled spend-lust.
Whenever I stop in the local music store, I take a bit of time to play some of the great guitars they have on display. Many of them cost five times what my guitar was originally. I hate them all.
The poor experience is a mix of factors. They have grimy strings corroding in the grease of a thousand guitar nerds. Many are set-up poorly (strings are too high off the fretboard, intonation is off, etc.). They’re always out of tune (fixable in the moment) and they usually have much lighter strings than I prefer (granted, a personal preference).
I can look at what appear (and sound like) amazing guitars online, but when I try to play something in person, I end up preferring my old Yamaha at home. This is a blessing, like being able to enjoy cheap coffee, cheese, or wine. I’m happy to have a comfortable guitar that works well for me. I know it’s not the one thing keeping me from writing the next great album.
On the other hand, I’m sure some of these guitars would be great for me if the music store would take the time to set them up well and create better conditions for playing. Come on, folks – this pocket isn’t going to grow a hole by itself.
In the past few years, I’ve noticed an increase in text-driven ways to control the software I use. The most prominent example is Spotlight on macOS (or the many 3rd party alternatives, and the similar tools on Windows and Linux systems).
Most of these tools work something like this: you use a keyboard shortcut (cmd+space, cmd+K, etc.) to summon a typing prompt. You can then type a variety of commands to trigger an action, like launch an application, search for a file, or perform a calculation.
I presume the origin of these types of text prompt interfaces are linked to two prominent text-input interfaces types:
These days, most of the systems I use have some incarnation of these command prompts:
Text-based interfaces tend to be powerful and flexible, but not easily discovered. The issue of discovering capabilities is often addressed with auto-complete suggestions.
Text-based input also happens to be a relatively low-bandwidth model that works well on remote systems across a potentially slow network.
I find myself wanting for more consistency among these different types of commands prompts. Though some conventions are emerging, many applications have different keyboard shortcuts to trigger the prompts, and different syntax and behaviors within the prompts.
I’d like to see all of these systems become interoperable in the way of Unix-style command line tools. On a command line, I can “pipe” the output on one command into the input of another (indefinitely). The command prompts in macOS Spotlight, Slack, Notion, and my text editor live in silos, inaccessible to each other.
Slack and Notion both have concepts of “people” (usually prefixed with an @ symbol) and spaces (“channels” or “pages”). However, I can’t reference a Slack channel from Notion. Slack and Notion don’t know that when I refer to @Kelly in either system, I’m talking about the same person. This type of interoperability requires that: Everything should have a URL (sidenote: I think much of Slack’s effectiveness stems from how they do have a URL for every message, even though it’s a closed system).
There are some advantages to keeping each command prompt isolated in its own domain. This isolation allows each application to tailor the syntax and behavior of its command prompt to best match the type of content in that application. The more broad-reaching a system becomes, the more abstraction you must introduce. This abstraction can be powerful but abstractions can also leak and obfuscate.
Despite the drawbacks of a more universal system of interoperable command prompts, I still find myself wanting for a single universal command prompt that works across my entire system and can reach within each of the applications.
Also happens that voice command systems like Siri, Alexa, and whatever Google calls theirs, are becoming more popular. Infrastructure that makes application-level command prompts more interoperable could also open up more capabilities for voice-based control.
Editing note: This was a draft post I wrote and didn’t complete about two years ago, thinking I would build it into a great article full of images and references. Then, this week I saw much better posts on the topic from Chris Coyier and Maggie Appleton. The lesson: Press Publish.
I’ve noted before that naming things is hard and I like to celebrate naming done well. Last time it was a WordStar clone called WordTsar (hold for applause).
Today, via Ruk.ca, I came across a crossword building app called Ingrid. Bravo.
See more examples of how naming things is hard.
When starting a productive or creative project, I find myself exaggerating the need for new tools, gear, or equipment before making any actual creative output.
It’s obvious procrastination. Goods tools are important, but I often have what I need already. I at least have what I need to get started.
I’ve been enjoying playing guitar more again in the past year or two. I even started a bit of recording.
Next thing I knew, I had to have a bass guitar. Precious evenings were lost to scouring the internet for just what bass I should buy. Recognizing my premature leap to tool acquisition, I’ve tried to reverse the process by making a deal with myself.
Rather than thinking, if only I had a new bass guitar, I would write all these songs, I’m trying this instead: If I write and record five actual songs, then I will buy a bass.
They don’t have to be good songs, but they have to exist. As Chris & Dave repeat in the opening of each episode of their ShopTalk Show podcast: Just! Build! Websites! (replace building websites with whatever it is you want to do).
I can write and record songs without a new bass. If I never end up writing or recording anything, then I know it would have been a wasted purchase anyhow.
It’s been about six months so far, and I’m about 10% of the way to my goal. For those doing the math, that means I’ve got about half of one song. It remains to be seen if I’m someone who writes and records songs, or just a person who thinks of themselves as someone who writes and records songs.
If I recently bought a product or service from you or interacted with your sales or support staff online, and you did not send a follow-up email asking me to rate the experience: Thank you.
You get five-stars: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
I love this photo from NASA’s Artemis I mission. It has all of the elements of a great selfie: the subject in the foreground (showcasing both the worm and meatball logos), and some friends off in the background (in this case, all of humanity).
My last two web searches were:
Our brains were not made to live in so many worlds at once.
For the record, the last successful seditious conspiracy charge in the US was in 1995 and bouillon and broth are interchangeable.