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Finally…
I wrote a post back in July, titled “Is it always better to get better?“, in which I wondered why we try and improve even at meaningless things that don’t have actual value. In my case, the example in question was Starcraft 2, a real-time strategy game I spend far too much time playing. Despite the utter lack of value or meaning, I nonetheless set a personal goal of making it into Diamond league, which is approximately the top 20% of active 1v1 players. Being in the top 20% of anything you set your mind to really ought not to be that hard (well, unless you pick a goal around height or some other relatively immutable property), and there’s many thousands of Diamond 1v1 players in Starcraft 2; nonetheless, it took till tonight for me to finally make it.
It’s certainly been more difficult than I anticipated it to be. For a long time, I was really just playing the game, and not actively thinking about how I was playing, and what I needed to improve. I might go in with a plan, but once the actual back and forth combat phases started, I’d just focus on playing things out – and not on what I was trying to do better. The other challenge is that everyone still actively playing the game more than a year after it’s release was also pretty serious. Strategies evolved, things that used to work ceased to, and sometimes even when I felt I was playing near the peak of my ability, I’d take a string of losses.
As I wrote the prior blog post, hitting Diamond was the very last thing I expected. Starcraft 2 runs in seasons; at the end of each season, you’re locked into your current league, and when a new season begins, you’re slotted into a league for that season based on your cumulative performance to date. It should be harder to get promoted into Diamond than to be placed into Diamond at the start of a season, because there’s a threshold designed to prevent you from ping-ponging between adjacent leagues every few games. The last game I played yesterday wound up being treated as my first Season 5 match, and I was slotted back into Platinum. That really felt appropriate; I had been facing fewer diamond players in recent games, as I’ve been a little sick for about a week. And if there’s one place you really notice when you’re not at 100%, it’s playing something competitive and mentally intense.
Still, with today being the first day that I’ve felt mostly back to normal (after a really full night of sleep yesterday), I decided to play one last game before heading to bed. I’d won a reasonable string of games prior to the earlier blog post, perhaps on account of being back to normal, so I could still lose and not be too bothered about the day’s games as a whole. It’s harder to sleep after going 3-8! As it turns out, that final game earned a promotion to Diamond. It was a lucky win at that; a Protoss vs. Protoss where he was going for colossi off of one base; I’d anticipated a 4gate and didn’t expand either, but had no robotics support bay (i.e. far from having colossi of my own); I’d have died in a straight ground engagement, but just managed to get enough void rays to hold off the attack, retain my expansion, and win from there off of better momentum and economy.
I’m still by no means great at the game. There was an internal Google tournament (for fun, but I can’t enter due to timing with the kids), and about 20% of players were Masters level – that’s the top 10% of Diamond, i.e. the top 2% of all players; they’d likely beat me with one hand. But now that I’ve finally got to this entirely meaningless and pointless milestone, I’ll probably finally get to playing other equally pointless but high quality games, like Uncharted 3 and Zelda: Skyward Sword!
If you compare this image to the earlier post, you’ll see that it took me a ridiculous 740 wins – meaning roughly 1480 games (though some of that was 2v2, not 1v1) – between setting the goal and reaching it. That’s a lot of wasted time (probably 400-500 hours) and I’m sure I could have used it for something much more constructive. But at least I got a shiny icon!
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Singapore Airlines, Singapore Airport
This is the second post in a series of recent travel experiences, the first of which was on how United’s policies almost seem designed to cause frustration. This one is more positive, before heading into the horror that was my experience with Travelocity.
My mom turned 60 in November, so I went back to Malaysia to celebrate – though I’m still earning enough vacation days to come back to parity, since I had only recently started the new job. Now, while Seattle looks geographically closer to Malaysia, unless you get a very specific set of flights, it’s actually further way by travel time. That’s because Toronto has a plethora of direct flights to various parts of Asia, whereas Seattle has relatively fewer. For my timeframes, there was truly nothing convenient or economical. And while I haven’t done a United international flight for a while, my experience with Asian airlines was overwhelmingly better, so I wanted to avoid them if possible, while sticking to Star Alliance if I could (that backfired too, in a different way).
In the end, I wound up with a doozy of an itinerary: Seattle -> Los Angeles -> Tokyo -> Singapore -> Kuala Lumpur, a grand total of over 30 hours of travel. The way back was even longer – 36 hours, an extra stop in Portland, and a 9 hour overnight transit in Singapore. The fare was pretty attractive – I had to pay around $200 to get to Los Angeles, but the route from there was under $1100, much cheaper than any other option besides Air China which I was unsure of (and isn’t a Star Alliance airline to boot). Equally appealing was that both long-haul legs – between Los Angeles and Tokyo, Tokyo and Singapore – were on Singapore Airlines. I used to fly SQ on occasion when I was younger, and always recall it being a positive experience; they are consistently rated highly in studies, and they seem to be among the first to get the latest aircraft. And they are a Star Alliance carrier to boot.
When it came time to board in LA, I was not disappointed – the flight was on the relatively new, absolutely gargantuan Airbus A380:
No, I did not miss my flight in order to get a picture of the A380 taking off. Nor would I likely have gotten this nice a shot, even if I did – if you follow the link above, it will take you to an account of the first flight, by a photographer who posted that and a number of other pictures. It’s good reading if you want to know more! I’ll put a break here to save you if you’re reading on RSS and not interested…
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Artificial Discomfort
There’s a series of three posts on travel that I’ve meant to make for some time, that I’ve had trouble getting around to – on United Airlines policies, Singapore Airlines and Changi Airport, and on why I’ll never use Travelocity again (and suggest that you don’t either). I’ll start with this post about United!
This was motivated by a flight from San Francisco back to Seattle that I did in October, though the picture above was during travel via Tokyo (and was mostly an experiment in hand-held mild HDR; unfortunately, it’s through glass, which is visible). Now, there was nothing particularly terrible about this flight, but between the aforementioned flight and the original one down, two things struck me as rather poorly designed about the overall UA flight experience.
No, That Doesn’t Fit in the Overhead
Like most North American airlines, there’s now a fee for checking even the first bag on United. As if the relatively poor quality (at least if judged by personal experience with bag loss) of bagging handling at most U.S. airports (especially LAX!) wasn’t enough to dissuade you from checking a bag, there’s now an added financial incentive to bring all your possessions on-board with you. I’m sure that somewhere, someone created a spreadsheet that projected reduced costs from fewer checked bags, and increased revenue from passengers paying for bags that they really did have to check.
However, I’m not sure if airline executives bothered to take a full flight before coming up with this brilliant idea. If they did, they might have noticed that overhead bins on a full flight are always over-capacity. In fact, the sole reason for frequent fliers to get on the plane early – no, it’s not the comfy seats – is to ensure that they can stow their bags. Literally, I can’t think of any other reason you’d want to get a head start on sitting down in cramped quarters; this is definitely the only reason I ever use priority boarding.
Anyways, now people try to bring carry-on luggage that’s so big, it makes those baggage sizers that you are supposed to be able to fit your bag inside look like a cellphone case. But who can fault them? One failed attempt to stow your luggage, and you can hand it to a flight attendant who will gladly check your bag – for free – to your destination. On my departing flight, the airplane couldn’t have been more than 2/3rds finished boarding, and the flight attendants were already helpfully announcing that if your bag doesn’t fit in the overhead, they’ll be happy to check it for you. I’ve only once – on an Air Canada flight – seen the flight attendants enforce the size limit prior to boarding, and that was equally comical because hardly a single bag actually fit in that thing. But don’t worry, if it didn’t, they were happy to check your bag for you. For free.
Of course, this slows down the boarding process for everyone, and since nobody really wants their bag to run the LAX gauntlet if it doesn’t have to, there’s lots of squishing and shoving and relocation of bags at the tail end of any boarding process when the flight is full. It just feels like there has to be a better way. And having done relatively short flights such as Kuala Lumpur to Singapore (about an hour), having fast, free, reliable checked bags seems to be a good option, but perhaps the cost of labor makes that untenable here. Though I’m not sure the extended boarding process (during which time you’ve got to pay a pilot instead of a bag handler) is cheaper.
Economy Plus/Minus
For my long-time colleague and frequent fellow flyer, Adrian, there were few questions more important on a given flight than whether or not he (or we) might get an upgrade. This was one of those things that just always seemed vastly more important to him than to me; if we were bidding on a business class upgrade, I’m pretty sure he’d be willing to pay at least 3 or 4 times more than I would. But United’s economy “plus” concept gave me at least one plausible, simple reason for this: the discomfort inflicted by the crammed seating in economy grows exponentially as total legroom reduces to the point that your legs don’t physically fit.
What does this have to do with United Economy Plus? If you’re not familiar with it, it’s an added tier of service between business and regular economy, in which you get an economy seat and service, but a bit more legroom. Ostensibly, as the marketing material went when they introduced the concept, they ‘removed’ some seats to provide the extra legroom in Economy Plus. And perhaps, at some point in time, there was some truth to that. However, I can say with certainty that the “standard” economy seats on United – let’s call them “Economy Minus” – are significantly more cramped than the economy section of the Air Canada flights I used to take frequently out of San Francisco and elsewhere. This isn’t subjective; whether or not you can actually open your laptop (and to what extent) is a fairly reliable measure of how much space there is in front of you. In Economy Minus, I don’t even try taking it out of the bag.
But saying that economy class is crowded is like saying that the sky is blue. Where the ridiculous side effects of this scheme comes into play is with not full flights. Roughly 40% of the economy section seems to be allocated to Economy Plus, but very few people are willing to pay the $39 that United asks (on a relatively short 2 hour flight) for the upgrade to Economy Plus. So while you’ll find a few people up there – 1K members that are seated there for free, perhaps – you get a situation where regular economy is packed – every middle seat is full – and Economy Plus is sitting there, empty. Unless you want to pay $39, you can’t move up there. I’ve done a few more flights since watching this dynamic at work, and on every flight you see the flight attendants defending those seats, telling people they can’t move up there unless they pay. Sometimes, they even announce make announcements over the intercom, explaining why nobody is allowed to sit in those seats.
The hilarious thing is, their rationale is that some people paid the $39 to sit there. When you look at the variation in what people sitting next to each other paid for a given seat, this is pretty laughable; depending on when and how you booked, there might be hundreds of dollars in fare differences between passengers, but there’s still going to compact you into the Economy Minus section. So ironically, like the baggage scheme, it’s not clear that many people actually ever pay to sit in Economy Plus – but they sure do force a lot of people to sit in the middle seats in Economy Minus as a consequence.
I think I understand now why Air Canada often says it’s rated the best North American airline – it probably is. Just don’t compare against the Asian airlines!
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New Keyboard
I mentioned the Samsung Galaxy Tab 10.1 I received as a parting gift from my co-workers in Toronto, but another thing that they gave me was a Razer Marauder Starcraft 2 keyboard. Functionally, it’s a keyboard; visually, it takes the Starcraft theme to the max, going with a design that looks like it was lifted straight out of the game. It also has some cool features integrated with the game itself, like color that reflects your current APM (how fast you are inputting commands), and the ability to turn red when your army is being killed. I had lots of opportunities to see that – I lost 6 games in a row after trying the keyboard out!
Unfortunately, my particular unit had an issue during regular typing, in which keys would sometimes get input twice for a single keystroke. I’m also not sure what it was, but E-mails I was writing would sometimes get sent spontaneously while I was still in the process of writing them. Getting this fixed wasn’t straightforward, and I hadn’t gotten around to it. However, in searching for information about the issue, I did come across information on the complex world of mechanical keyboards – and long having been a fan of some of the old style keyboards – I even still have a keyboard with a 5-pin DIN connector (the predecessor of the PS/2 keyboard connector), which I used with an adapter for quite some time thanks to its nice clicky feel.
Well, it turns out that they do in fact make them like they used to – if you’re willing to spend $100 or so on a keyboard, which most people aren’t. I was, though (heck, many in the Toronto office spent that much on mechanical joysticks for playing Street Fighter 4) – and the keyboard I chose arrived this week:
It’s a Das Keyboard Standard Model S Ultimate. The “Ultimate” denotes a feature (or lack thereof) you may have noticed above – the keyboard is unlabeled! And while many people do type without looking at the keyboard, you may discover that the location of some of the more obscure symbols isn’t quite as ingrained in your memory as you think. Typing with one hand, which essentially means you’re not typing reflexively anymore, is also pretty challenging. I actually chose to go with the “Professional” model (same keyboard, with letters), but the promo price ended in the few hours since I decided – so I got the above instead. It feels great so far, and if you spend a lot of time typing, I do suggest putting a little effort into finding a keyboard that you really like!
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Follow-up on the falling car
Just a quick post with a few more details on the car that drove through our fence and took a 15 ft. dive into the ravine below:
- It belonged to the friend of our neighbors (who are college-age kids; their parents seem to have moved elsewhere). He had parked it on our shared driveway, and apparently not engaged the parking brake fully enough.
- First question from his dad: “Did you turn the tires”? First question from his mom: “Did you turn the tires”? Apparently, he wasn’t too versed in parking on a hill – and here in our area, you really have to be.
- Talking to his dad, who came to repair the damage to the fence, we concluded the car really must have gotten enough speed to just go straight over the edge without a big change in its orientation.
- The trees, which were still standing, hadn’t been touched or repaired. They were simply flexible enough that instead of snapping, they got bent backwards and then rebounded back almost to their original placement. Pretty resilient.
- They had to bring a crane, usually used if trucks or tankers roll off the road, to hoist the car out of the ravine. It was essentially a straight lift and pivot to get it back onto solid ground.
- The car was in driving condition! Apparently, the owner of the car is still using it to go to/from work every day.
The best part was an exchange between the dad and son when we were discussing the above part about the speed of the car. The son said “it’s lucky nobody was in the car, or maybe it would have tipped over instead of landing flat”. To which his dad dryly responded: “if there was someone in the car, they would have pressed the brakes!”. -
Things that go bump in the night
This post is dedicated to Richard S. from ALU in Toronto.
Our home in Washington is in a very quiet neighborhood; it’s both pitch black and very quiet by around 7pm every night. On top of this, Washington has an interesting approach to driveways; many homes don’t have a private driveway that connects directly to the road that the street is on, instead there’s often a shared driveway that serves several homes, so it’s not atypical to see three rows of homes back from a street, with a shared driveway. That’s how our home is; we are at the end of the driveway, down a rather steep slope, surrounded by trees and a ravine.
A couple of nights ago, I heard a noticeable bump/bang outside at around 1:00am – not very loud, mind you, but as I said there’s usually no noise whatsoever. As mentioned, you can’t see a thing without lights at night, so I just made sure the doors were locked, and went back to that blog post about those mobile devices. I didn’t hear anything further, so I wasn’t too concerned.
I didn’t notice it in the morning, but when Valerie came home she saw that a fence at the bottom of the driveway had been broken:
A whole section of the fence was missing, and one it’s vertical beams was even cracked. Vandalism? Seems unlikely, we’re too far out of the way, and it’s doubtful that someone would just wreck one section of the fence for fun. Large animals? Haven’t seem them around here, and doesn’t seem likely that they’d run through the fence either considering the drop off behind it. While the initial fixation was on the fence itself, as you glimpse what’s behind, all becomes clear…
Someone’s car had actually rolled all the way down the hill, through our fence, and into the ravine below. The initial fear when Valerie discovered the car was that someone might actually have been inside, though fortunately this was not the case – it appears just to have been a car that wasn’t parked properly. That’s extremely lucky, because it’s about a 15-20 foot straight drop from the edge of our home into the ravine below! Even more surprising, the car seemed to be almost entirely intact, when the physics of the situation seemed to suggest that the car should have fallen vertically and then topped over onto its roof! Apparently, it had enough momentum even after crashing through the fence to make things happen like those slow-motion shots you see in movies when cars go speeding off a ledge…
If you’re wondering why the small trees in the first picture were intact, well, so am I. Maybe they’ve just got some elasticity to them, but because I took this on Saturday morning (a little more than 24 hours after the actual incident), someone other than us may have put them back in the ground to prevent them from dying, after this whole thing was discovered. Equally amazing we went at 9:30am when I took the above picture, and when we came back 3-4 hours later, the car had been removed with no visible signs as to exactly how. I guess this highlights the importance of using your parking brake, and angling your wheels correctly on a hill!
Not quite as entertaining, but still funny, is Google Voice’s transcription of the voicemails that Valerie sent about this:
“This hey my friend. I don’t know if you notice but The. I sent in. Mahals. So what I’m saying that he wanted nothing to me and I guess the park. I guess part of the got broken. I think must have. So,somehow a renowned to ring to our friends, anyway. Give me a call. Bye bye.”
“Hey Mike, I actually i think i’ll crash you went all the way down to be at the Valley or whatever you call it a platform cards I guess it’s Yes there but I don’t see any but he’s there anyone well. Anyway, I don’tknow what to do, call me bye bye. “
The first message was about the broken fence; the second was on discovering that there was a car sitting in the ravine below. Usually Google Voice produces useful transcriptions, but these two were pretty darned confusing!
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Fistful of mobile devices
I’ve never really been that big on mobile devices. Adrian would often extol the virtues of a 27-some-odd pocket Scottevest – equivalent to an extra carry-on for the airplane, he’d often say – while I’d wonder what I could possibly put in the 24 remaining pockets after my wallet, phone, and compact camera were stowed away.
Almost exactly two months ago, I left Alcatel-Lucent, and while there were many things I’d miss, the two mobile devices that were company property – a Blackberry 8700 phone (note the intentional lack of the word “smart”), and a Lenovo Thinkpad laptop – were not really among them. My Blackberry was pretty much exclusively for work E-mail while travelling, and similarly, my laptop only saw use when I was on the road (I greatly preferred my desktop both in the office and at home). But fast forward just a couple of weeks, and it felt like it was raining new kinds of mobile devices; I picked up 5 in the span of just 2-3 weeks, resulting in the following stack:
I only owned two of the devices pictured above when I came in for my last day of work at ALU – the 3rd-gen Amazon Kindle, and the HP Mini netbook which has had the sole role of recording who came to play badminton. This lack of mobile devices actually got momentarily scary, when I realized I’d be alone in Kirkland for 10 days before getting my Google-issued computer, without a device capable of playing Starcraft. Fortunately, my 3 checked bag allowance with Air Canada remedied this – one bag for my desktop, one bag for a monitor, one bag for the keyboard/mouse/accessories… and a few clothes. My carry-on luggage was exclusively camera bags. So what are all the extra devices above, and what do I think of them? In the order I received them…
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Odin is a great name for a kid
I remember the added story of customer service woe I had forgotten when writing my earlier post. What could it possibly have to do with kids names?
My friend Jing had a baby not so long ago, a son that they named Odin. Not only does this conjure up images of great power for anyone who has played the Final Fantasy series of JPRGs (Zantetsuken!), but is also sufficiently unique that you’re not going to run into too many other Odins out there.
My name, on the other hand, is a lot less unique. While this has some advantages, like keeping Adrian guessing as to whether any of the people with my name on Facebook are actually me (answer: still no), I encountered a massive downside when moving to Washington state – someone with my first name, last name, and date of birth had committed a string of traffic offenses in New York State, which landed him – and effectively, me – on a national registry of people who ought not to have a license. So after waiting for over an hour at the Department of Licensing here in Washington, and passing my knowledge test, I was told I couldn’t get a license until I could prove that I wasn’t the offender in question. Which was difficult, because he never drove with a license, and didn’t have a social security number associated with his numerous offenses. This led to a string of interactions with an organization renowned for exceptional customer service…
I had to call about 8 times or so before things were resolved, and had a whole range of experiences on those calls. A few highlights:
- Washington state sends you to the Driver Improvement division of the DMV, when what you really need is the Traffic Violations group. A little transfer tag is par for the course in telephone based customer service. However, Driver Improvement has a veritable maze of an IVR explicitly designed to prevent you from reaching a human being. It took several calls, taking notes on their IVR, to even identify how to avoid the traps that get you into a “cannot possibly reach a human” branch of their IVR tree.
- Driver Improvement takes calls from 8:30am till noon. Of course, you have to hold so long that you really need to call by 11:00am. Oh, you’re in Washington? Well in that case, the effective hours are 5:30am till 8:00am. And this is what you need to go through to get told that you’re talking to the wrong place.
- Naturally, the first time I got transferred to the right place (Traffic Violations), I got put on hold and the call got dropped. My only way back was… that’s right, through the 5:30am-to-8:00am-can’t-speak-to-a-person Driver Improvement group. When I got through the second time, I didn’t even explain my situation, I was immediately begging for a number I could call if I got disconnected again.
- The opening conversations I had once I got to the right place went something like this:
- Me: “Hi, I have the same name and birthdate as someone in New York and need a ‘not me’ letter I can use here in Washington?”
- DMV: “We don’t do ‘not me’ letters”.
- The next conversation (with a different person) was only marginally more encouraging:
- Me: “Hi, I have the same name and birthdate as someone in New York and need a ‘not me’ letter I can use here in Washington?”
- DMV: “We can’t give you a letter like that… how do we know you aren’t that person?”
- There’s no such thing as a case or ticket number. In fact, after I reached someone helpful – who ominously said that I might have to appear in front of a judge to convince him that I’m not Mr. Bad Driver – they got me to fax all my documents over so they could look into things. I called back a week later to see how things were going. They asked who was working on my case – in the same way that a waiter at a restaurant might ask you the name of the chef/cook who is making your meal if you ask where your food is. Once I found out – Alison was helping me – I made sure to write down her name, as indeed I’d need it on every subsequent call.
- Google has a very stringent set of standards and access control limiting access of employees to potentially confidential/personal information of users. The DMV? Not so much. Whenever I reached someone other than Alison, they’d often say “oh, she’s a manager, she’s in meetings! Let me check for you”. Then they’d go over to her desk, look through papers they found, and either they’d find my documents or not. Then they could leave notes for Alison related to my file.
In the end, I did get the letter I needed even though it took a month, and I actually appreciated the staff there – even though I’d chuckle as someone went off to ruffle through Alison’s desk to find my information.But the people defining these federal databases definitely need to understand the concept of a primary key. Similarly, the designers of infuriating IVRs should try and understand that even if they try to be comprehensive, a case like “I need a not me letter because I am out of state but have the same name and birthday as an in-state offender” is never going to be an IVR menu option. Heck, most of the people I talked to had no idea how I should proceed!And last but not least, name your kids something like Odin. If you name them John Smith or Zhang Wei (I don’t think my old roommate Wei reads this, but his name might actually be the most popular in the world), just imagine the trouble they’ll have once these poorly designed databases go global! -
Lots of Customer “Service”
It’s been a long time since I posted an update of many sorts; the move and new job kept me very busy, as you might expect, and while I did get walking to work everyday into my routine, I didn’t fare so well when it comes to posting things here that I found interesting and/or wanted to remember. That said, I do have a list of things I meant to get to writing down… the first being on customer service.
When you move, you need to start, update, or cancel virtually every relationship you have with a company. This is painful enough to discourage moving – as if exorbitant real estate commissions didn’t take care of that (more on that later, perhaps). Amongst this flurry of customer service interactions, there’s bound to be a few “exceptional” cases worth noting…
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It’s always raining in Seattle
At least, this was a refrain we were growing used to hearing when telling people that we were moving to Kirkland, in the greater Seattle area. And I have no doubt that there’s a lot of truth to this, that we will unfortunately ultimately discover. Certainly the contractors trying to convince us to spend thousands on changes to better protect against moisture – and the beams in our deck that were clearly destroyed by it – make it clear that it’s not as dry as Arizona here.
Still, I had nothing to complain about on my first Sunday afternoon there, when I finally got to walk around close to the area where we’re living:
If you’re wondering about the 2nd picture, no, we don’t have a house on the water, though fortunately this location is walkable from where we do live. And I have to comment since a colleague, Nicolas, had asked about the earlier post about leaving Toronto about whether skyline picture I took was from my home. (I said if it was, I wouldn’t have been leaving Toronto!).
Indeed, in the 8 days I spent in Kirkland, only one was truly miserable and while the others did have some rain here and there, it really wasn’t anything much to complain about. It is a little odd, though; you can look up and see not a cloud in the sky and still have a little rain falling on you. I’m sure it will be worse, perhaps much worse, over the winter months – but at this point, I’m thinking I’ll take that over snow and ice. Though I reserve the right to change my mind on that once I really experience it!












