Saturday, February 28, 2015
Reel Reviews
Guardians of the Galaxy -- This movie gets a huge leg up in generating goodwill from its audience through its amazing soundtrack. The music nails it for appealing to viewers of a certain age, who most likely already have these songs on their preferred listening device--people like yours truly. Then again, it probably does some damage if those viewers recognize the soundtrack as a cynical ploy to appeal to said demographic, and thus boost ticket and home viewing sales. Call all that a wash, and thus we're stuck with trying to judge this film on its own merits--and that is a hit and miss proposition. For every space opera element that is derivative, predictable, and stale, there's also a piece of cleverness, good humor, and just sheer entertainment that offsets the problems. If we do the math, I think the whole thing winds up in the plus column; not by much, but enough that this one gets a passing grade, something just high enough to keep that goodwill going for the inevitable sequel.
Monday, February 23, 2015
No Appreciation for Depreciation
You hear it said all the time: "I would never buy a new car, because the value depreciates by a huge amount the moment you drive it off the lot."
This bromide has been repeated so often that it has become an honored bedrock constituent of conventional wisdom. Most folks who hear this sentiment will nod their heads in agreement at the worthy who spoke these words, and will swear to the heavens that they too would never buy a new car, lest they also see their car's precious valuation drop like a bird struck dead.
There's just one problem with all this: it's stupid.
I don't deny that a new car's value immediately decreases as soon as you've bought it. That's undoubtedly true. It's just that it doesn't really make much difference if your vehicle's value immediately drops by several hundred, or even thousands, of dollars as soon as you drive it. Why would it? Presumably, most people who buy a new car expect to keep that car for an extended amount of time, probably for many years. In that scenario, why would you care if the car you bought for $22,000 is now only worth $19,000? You're not planning on selling it anyway. Why do you need to make sure that you hold onto that extra three grand in value? Are you a junkie gambler and need to use your brand new car as collateral on some desperate bet? Will your bookie only accept a car valued at $20,000 on your parlay? If that's your situation, you've got bigger problems than your car's depreciation.
Value drops off sharply at first, but after some time the rate of depreciation is going to slow down (assuming you take care of the car reasonably well). The car you buy new will lose value quicker than the same car from two model years before purchased new or used. But in eight years, when the new car is eight years old and the earlier model is ten years old, which will have more value? As likely as not, it'll be the one you bought new, though probably not by much; both cars' values will approach each other as they get older and older.
Some will object that the valuation matters for insurance purposes; that is, for premium purposes and for what you'll get on a claim if the car is totaled a week after you drove it off the lot. Premiums will always be higher for a newer--that is, higher value--vehicle. But at least one insurer--Liberty Mutual--specifically advertises a policy of "one year newer" replacement for stolen or wrecked cars. Other insurers probably have similar policies, and if they don't...well, more business for LM. Bottom line: insurance is hardly a reason not to buy a new car, if you can afford it (both the car and the premiums).
The "depreciation problem" thing is one of those examples of something that stupid people hear and they agree with it because they think it sounds like wisdom--except, of course, they're stupid, so what do they know about wisdom? This matter, like many other examples of conventional wisdom, falls apart when you think it through.
Now, if you want to lease a new car...well, you're on your own there.
This bromide has been repeated so often that it has become an honored bedrock constituent of conventional wisdom. Most folks who hear this sentiment will nod their heads in agreement at the worthy who spoke these words, and will swear to the heavens that they too would never buy a new car, lest they also see their car's precious valuation drop like a bird struck dead.
There's just one problem with all this: it's stupid.
I don't deny that a new car's value immediately decreases as soon as you've bought it. That's undoubtedly true. It's just that it doesn't really make much difference if your vehicle's value immediately drops by several hundred, or even thousands, of dollars as soon as you drive it. Why would it? Presumably, most people who buy a new car expect to keep that car for an extended amount of time, probably for many years. In that scenario, why would you care if the car you bought for $22,000 is now only worth $19,000? You're not planning on selling it anyway. Why do you need to make sure that you hold onto that extra three grand in value? Are you a junkie gambler and need to use your brand new car as collateral on some desperate bet? Will your bookie only accept a car valued at $20,000 on your parlay? If that's your situation, you've got bigger problems than your car's depreciation.
Value drops off sharply at first, but after some time the rate of depreciation is going to slow down (assuming you take care of the car reasonably well). The car you buy new will lose value quicker than the same car from two model years before purchased new or used. But in eight years, when the new car is eight years old and the earlier model is ten years old, which will have more value? As likely as not, it'll be the one you bought new, though probably not by much; both cars' values will approach each other as they get older and older.
Some will object that the valuation matters for insurance purposes; that is, for premium purposes and for what you'll get on a claim if the car is totaled a week after you drove it off the lot. Premiums will always be higher for a newer--that is, higher value--vehicle. But at least one insurer--Liberty Mutual--specifically advertises a policy of "one year newer" replacement for stolen or wrecked cars. Other insurers probably have similar policies, and if they don't...well, more business for LM. Bottom line: insurance is hardly a reason not to buy a new car, if you can afford it (both the car and the premiums).
The "depreciation problem" thing is one of those examples of something that stupid people hear and they agree with it because they think it sounds like wisdom--except, of course, they're stupid, so what do they know about wisdom? This matter, like many other examples of conventional wisdom, falls apart when you think it through.
Now, if you want to lease a new car...well, you're on your own there.
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Jogging Your Mind, and Hand
I had an insight recently. Put most people in a meeting, or any similar situation, where they're sitting there with a pad of paper and a writing instrument, and most of those people will start doodling on the paper. Usually, we interpret such doodlings as evidence that the person with the pen is bored. However, I've come to suspect that that's not true.
I think that when someone starts doodling in such a situation, what he or she is actually doing is something similar to running in place. Joggers run in place when they are not moving forward, such as when waiting at a stoplight, but want to keep themselves at the ready and on their toes for when they do get the green light to go again. Doodling performs a similar function during note-taking situations: it's a way to keep your writing hand revved up and ready to move while there's nothing to note, so that you can quickly jot down your notes when there is something worth writing down.
Thus, it's unfair to accuse the doodler of being bored or not paying attention--he's actually paying attention and keeping his hand at the ready for the task ahead.
Not the most earth-shattering insight, perhaps, but it's an example of how everyday actions, when interpreted from another angle, can turn into something radically different from what we've always assumed them to be.
I think that when someone starts doodling in such a situation, what he or she is actually doing is something similar to running in place. Joggers run in place when they are not moving forward, such as when waiting at a stoplight, but want to keep themselves at the ready and on their toes for when they do get the green light to go again. Doodling performs a similar function during note-taking situations: it's a way to keep your writing hand revved up and ready to move while there's nothing to note, so that you can quickly jot down your notes when there is something worth writing down.
Thus, it's unfair to accuse the doodler of being bored or not paying attention--he's actually paying attention and keeping his hand at the ready for the task ahead.
Not the most earth-shattering insight, perhaps, but it's an example of how everyday actions, when interpreted from another angle, can turn into something radically different from what we've always assumed them to be.
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Recently Read
I Don't Care if We Never Get Back
by Ben Blatt & Eric Brewster
What is it about baseball that makes even its most partisan supporters feel the need to trash the game? To readers who delve into I Don't Care if We Never Get Back, that may not seem like a pertinent question. Since the book is a travelogue relating the ups and downs of two friends on a 30 games in 30 days road trip, and most of the downs are related to things that happen beyond the ballpark, you could be forgiven for believing that this book does little to besmirch the game of baseball. But it's not as simple as that.
Clearly, for no other sport would such a trip be possible; only baseball plays its games on such an abundant schedule that a game a day for a whole month would even be plausible. And no other sport would inspire one of its fans--note: one fan, despite the book's two authors; more on that below--to even contemplate such a trip, including going to the trouble of developing an algorithm that would provide--in theory--the most efficient driving route to get one's self all the way across the country and back for all those games, in minimal time. Only a baseball fanatic would go to such trouble, and thus the game itself comes under some scrutiny when the concept goes a little sour.
And sour it goes, on more than one occasion. Co-authors Blatt and Brewster find themselves in trouble all over the place: torrential storms that threaten their tightly woven schedule (not to mention their lives on the roads); ticketing troubles, including an unfortunate scalping incident; utter exhaustion due to lack of sleep, and its consequences; and a friendship strained to the limit by one participant's lack of enthusiasm for baseball.
It's that last item that hangs over the narrative right from the start, making the reader wonder why in the hell Brewster, who doesn't care much for the game, would agree to accompany the baseball and statistics mad Blatt on such a trip in the first place. It's out of friendship, of course, and that acknowledgement comes in due time, but the damage to the reader's enjoyment of the story is done long before Blatt and Brewser--in their prose, at least--come to terms with their fraternal feelings for each other. The authors play up the conflict for comedic effect, but for most readers the laughs are few and far between; the most likely impression the reader will get from these chapters is the sense that these guys are not very pleasant to be around. Why then would one want to waste time reading a book about them?
Other problems abound here, the major one being the choice to write the book in both second person and third person voices. The more illiterate among us probably wouldn't even notice, but if you understand composition at all, you're not likely to enjoy a narrative that bounces back and forth between "We did this..." and "Eric said this..." or "Ben checked that..." Perhaps it should have been a warning that the need to share author billing--and thus torment the voice of the narrative--would make for a less than successful book (and, for that matter, road trip).
Some further issues, mostly mechanical problems, take some steam out of this work as well. At one point, during a discourse on the worshipful attitudes fans take towards their favorite ballplayers, the authors offer this nugget:
There are a few redeeming notes here and there. The boys' rumination, in the course of a game in Baltimore, on the nature of "The Star Spangled Banner"--the national anthem as question, not statement, at least in its usually performed verses--is insightful and thought-provoking, even if the authors step on their own premise a few paragraphs later. And, as noted above, when Blatt and Brewster do finally acknowledge the depth of their friendship and what it means to them, they are redeemed (somewhat) in the reader's eyes.
Unfortunately, that redemption comes too late in the game to affect the outcome. I Don't Care if We Never Get Back has to go down as a loss for the authors and their readers. As with baseball itself, having a little respect for the game going into it is a big help; otherwise, the game is famous for humbling its participants. Blatt and Brewster should have learned that lesson on their trip, and if not then, then certainly by the time their book was published.
by Ben Blatt & Eric Brewster
What is it about baseball that makes even its most partisan supporters feel the need to trash the game? To readers who delve into I Don't Care if We Never Get Back, that may not seem like a pertinent question. Since the book is a travelogue relating the ups and downs of two friends on a 30 games in 30 days road trip, and most of the downs are related to things that happen beyond the ballpark, you could be forgiven for believing that this book does little to besmirch the game of baseball. But it's not as simple as that.
Clearly, for no other sport would such a trip be possible; only baseball plays its games on such an abundant schedule that a game a day for a whole month would even be plausible. And no other sport would inspire one of its fans--note: one fan, despite the book's two authors; more on that below--to even contemplate such a trip, including going to the trouble of developing an algorithm that would provide--in theory--the most efficient driving route to get one's self all the way across the country and back for all those games, in minimal time. Only a baseball fanatic would go to such trouble, and thus the game itself comes under some scrutiny when the concept goes a little sour.
 |
| I Don't Care if We Never Get Back by Ben Blatt and Eric Brewster |
It's that last item that hangs over the narrative right from the start, making the reader wonder why in the hell Brewster, who doesn't care much for the game, would agree to accompany the baseball and statistics mad Blatt on such a trip in the first place. It's out of friendship, of course, and that acknowledgement comes in due time, but the damage to the reader's enjoyment of the story is done long before Blatt and Brewser--in their prose, at least--come to terms with their fraternal feelings for each other. The authors play up the conflict for comedic effect, but for most readers the laughs are few and far between; the most likely impression the reader will get from these chapters is the sense that these guys are not very pleasant to be around. Why then would one want to waste time reading a book about them?
Other problems abound here, the major one being the choice to write the book in both second person and third person voices. The more illiterate among us probably wouldn't even notice, but if you understand composition at all, you're not likely to enjoy a narrative that bounces back and forth between "We did this..." and "Eric said this..." or "Ben checked that..." Perhaps it should have been a warning that the need to share author billing--and thus torment the voice of the narrative--would make for a less than successful book (and, for that matter, road trip).
Some further issues, mostly mechanical problems, take some steam out of this work as well. At one point, during a discourse on the worshipful attitudes fans take towards their favorite ballplayers, the authors offer this nugget:
In World War II, the United States government name a 422-foot ship the SS Christy Mathewson [sic] after the legendary Giants pitcher. The military, which surely should have no shortage of its own heroes to draw from on the battlefield or in the halls of Congress, chose to honor a man who threw a ball a shorter distance than a soldier could throw a grenade.Um, no. That ship was named after Christy Mathewson, who, in addition to a Hall of Fame pitching career, served during WWI and thus suffered exposure to poison gas (during a training exercise) that left his lungs permanently damaged and susceptible to tuberculosis--a condition that ended his days on the mound. That story is well-known among baseball fans; how did the baseball-obsessed Blatt not know it, or not care enough to avoid besmirching the memory of one of the game's legends? Beyond that major gaffe, other instances of careless writing pop up: the sentence that begins "It's difficult to appropriate the exact moment..." (presumably, 'appropriate' should be 'approximate'); the chapter headings where the home of the Reds is spelled 'Cincinatti'; and the chapters where accounts of certain games get short shrift. Again and again, Blatt and Brewster come up short as proofreaders, at the least, if not as prose stylists.
There are a few redeeming notes here and there. The boys' rumination, in the course of a game in Baltimore, on the nature of "The Star Spangled Banner"--the national anthem as question, not statement, at least in its usually performed verses--is insightful and thought-provoking, even if the authors step on their own premise a few paragraphs later. And, as noted above, when Blatt and Brewster do finally acknowledge the depth of their friendship and what it means to them, they are redeemed (somewhat) in the reader's eyes.
Unfortunately, that redemption comes too late in the game to affect the outcome. I Don't Care if We Never Get Back has to go down as a loss for the authors and their readers. As with baseball itself, having a little respect for the game going into it is a big help; otherwise, the game is famous for humbling its participants. Blatt and Brewster should have learned that lesson on their trip, and if not then, then certainly by the time their book was published.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Reel Reviews
Million Dollar Arm -- Damn, those Disney people sure know how to make a movie. There's absolutely nothing surprising about this flick; everything is utterly predictable, you can see every twist and turn coming a mile away. And yet it's still an enjoyable, entertaining film to watch. Twenty years ago I would have cynically dismissed a movie like this, and that may be your reaction to this one; but having lived a little and come to recognize the value of sweet, simple, charming entertainment, I can see a work like this for what it is: perhaps not something impressive, but still worthy of our attention, and worth rooting for. Also, it's nice to be reminded that people in other countries love their children, too; we don't get enough of that here in the U.S. Bottom line: no home run, but a solid single up the middle.
Monday, February 9, 2015
Reel Reviews
The Monuments Men -- Noble ideas should always be winners. Sadly, they often are not, though the ones that aren't are not necessarily losers; sometimes they just fight life to a draw. So it is here with George Clooney's remembrance of a group of non-soldiers who suited up and went into a war not to save a country or each other, but the very culture of the Western world. The unevenness of the film probably reflects the difficulty in capturing this story in a dramatic setting; parts of the film are entertaining and involving, while others seem disjointed and not particularly well fit with the rest of the film. (If a movie had been made strictly about the recovery of the Madonna and Child statue--a major plotline here--one suspects it would have been a tighter, more watchable film.) As it is, this flick stands as a good effort, and its noble idea--that the treasures of our culture were worth saving when monsters wanted to destroy them--surely deserves at least this much attention.
Reel Reviews
Philomena -- Wow, and I thought I hated nuns before seeing this movie. You might feel the same way after watching this tragic tale, which is disheartening but not so heavy that it can't walk the thin line between too much truth and entertainment. Steve Coogan holds his own against an acting mainstay like Judy Dench (who both give excellent performances), and gets major kudos for also co-producing the film and co-writing the sharp, insightful screenplay. When it's all put together, you get a film worthy of its Oscar nominations (including Best Picture) and well worth your time.
Monday, February 2, 2015
Reel Reviews
Captain America: The Winter Soldier -- I really wanted to give this flick a positive review, and intended to do so up till the moment I sat down at the keyboard. This film brings likeable qualities to the screen: Chris Evans does a good job of conveying Cap's earnestness, many of the action sequences are typically audacious (a trait shared with its predecessor), the plot even takes a stab at some serious philosophical questions. But...this doesn't seem like a very well thought out movie. The surprises aren't all that surprising, the major reveal doesn't make a great deal of sense (and why "The Winter Soldier"? I don't recall that ever being explained), and the ending largely devolves into the same orgy of destruction we saw in the first Avengers flick. If you're big on the whole Marvel universe, you probably want to watch this one for completeness, if nothing else--just don't pay for it; get it from the library or TV. If they want your dollars, the producers need to do better than this.
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