Month: November 2008

I Call Shenanigans

Technical support can sometimes recommend a placebo solution if a customer insists on doing something when no action is really required.  This solution might actually improve things, but at least it won’t do any harm.  For example, you might clear your browser’s cache, or quit and re-launch an application.  Working with computers, I’m pretty good at spotting a phony solution when I hear one.

When my tooth started hurting intensely after a routine cleaning last week, I made an appointment for someone to examine it.  Unfortunately, the dentist I was scheduled to see was out sick, so a very helpful receptionist scrambled to find someone with a few free minutes.

Looking rather peeved at having a patient crammed into the 15-minute window in his schedule, the dentist examined my X-rays from last week and poked around in my mouth for a moment before declaring my teeth clinically healthy.

Then, as if searching for a way to make me feel that he’d accomplished something, he said, “It looks like you have some food caught in there that’s causing pressure.  I’ll flush that out.”  He produced the dental equivalent of a turkey baster to spray a jet of water into the problem area.

Uh huh.  Sure.  I’ve been brushing, flossing, rinsing with Listerine, and eating more food every day since that cleaning, and it hasn’t stopped hurting.  Flushing it out with this higher-pressure contraption is meant to help?  I sighed mentally.

The dentist finished in a few seconds.  No kidding: the pain went away instantly and completely.  Even jabbing my tongue at it, which would have been disturbingly masochistic a minute before, felt fine.

Then he explained the details.  Even I can see on the X-ray that there’s a space behind my bottom molar where my top molar can really wedge food pretty good as I chew.  He really did see a problem in his quick examination and executed a legitimate solution.  It only sounded bogus to the uninitiated.

So I guess the moral of this is: when the technician tells you to turn something off for 30 seconds and then turn it back on, do it!  It might actually help!  I’ve been made a believer.

True, False, File Not Found

Lawyers famously say, “Never ask a question unless you already know the answer.”

I’m supplementing a third-party application we recently installed that administers quizzes online.  It’s nothing revolutionary – students take a quiz, and it’s graded automatically.  I just need to generate a new report that includes the already-calculated quiz grades, so I’m studying the database.

I started with the table results_answers which lists students’ individual answers, and includes a column called result_answer_iscorrect.  Excellent!  This must show a 1 if the answer is correct, or a 0 if it’s not.  Let’s just ask the database to make sure:

[bobbojones@production xxx] > SELECT result_answer_iscorrect, COUNT(1)
FROM results_answers
GROUP BY result_answer_iscorrect;
+-------------------------+----------+
| result_answer_iscorrect | count(1) |
+-------------------------+----------+
|                       0 |      425 |
|                       2 |    18986 |
|                       3 |     5259 |
+-------------------------+----------+
3 rows in set (0.15 sec)

Blërg!  (There aren’t any ones, but there are twos and threes.)

I knew I shouldn’t have asked the question.

Turn it Up! Turn it Up!

Everyone living in a city tunes out city noise.  Constant sounds like cars driving by are easy to tune out completely.  Less frequent sounds, like a helicopter flying overhead or an ambulance rushing by, are hard to tune out completely but easy to ignore.

Emergency sirens are a great example.  I certainly hear them, but unless they’re going right past my building I just ignore them and continue focusing on what I was doing.

Tonight, I was watching a movie in which a character says:

 I can’t think with all these sirens!

And all I could think was: “What sirens?”

I had to pause the movie to realize the sirens I was hearing and ignoring were actually an important part of the plot I was supposed to be enjoying.

Blërg.

It Means “Annoying”

From Cops:

Officer: You’re going to jail for “Obstructing a Peace Officer”
Suspect: Obstructing a Peace Officer?

Officer: Yeah.  We gave you commands and you ignored them.
Suspect: If you would have asked me, I would have opened the door and I wouldn’t obstruct nothing.

Officer: Do you know what obstructing means?
Suspect: No.

An increasing number of exchanges I hear remind me of the “dismantling your pen” incident.  And that involved a student in the sixth grade.

Ouch

Dear Medical Science,

Please explain why receiving a hypodermic injection rates lower on the pain scale than removing the Band-Aid placed after the injection.  I admit it’s not a big difference – the needle is a flat zero, while the Band-Aid pulls a one or maybe up to a 2 in some cases – but it’s measurable.

In the interest of full disclosure I should probably reveal that I once required general anesthesia to remove a Band-Aid as a child.  Okay, technically I was receiving general anesthesia for unrelated and more traditional medical reasons, and my parents just asked the doctors to remove the Band-Aid at the time, but the fact remains I refused all efforts to remove it until I was unconscious and fully sedated.

Medicine has seen many important advances in my lifetime, and I have every confidence that you can make peeling off a bit of adhesive hurt no more than piercing one’s skin with a steel needle.

Please look into this.

Sincerely,
Not Going to Get the Flu This Year

P.S. It is not permissible to solve this problem by making the injection hurt more.  Make the Band-Aid hurt less.

P.P.S. For all practical intents and purposes I got the flu anyway.  Sure, I didn’t have the classic sinus problems or chills, but I was still exhausted and feverish all day.  It’s a very strange sensation to feel your body fighting a perceived illness that has absolutely no outward effects.  Come to think of it, this has all the benefits of staying in bed all day watching television with none of the disadvantages of sneezing and taking medication!

Three Three Eight

I loved the last hours of this election.

First, the pundits nearly pulled muscles trying not to call the election too early, even when the outcome became blindingly apparent.  We heard a lot of hypothetical scenarios like, “Let’s suppose Obama wins California.  Here’s how he might win the election then.”  As it turns out, 61% of California voted for him, and I’m sure we’re stunned.

The lessons of the 2000 election seem to have set in too deeply.  They shouldn’t have jumped on the “victory” button the moment Pennsylvania went to Obama, but they probably didn’t need to wait until California, Oregon, Washington, and Hawaii all actually closed.

Second, although I generally detest when my neighbors shout “whooooo” from their balconies in the dead of night, watching Grant Park erupt into cheers at the same moment my entire block began to scream “Obama” from their windows portrayed, better than anything that came before, the unifying power of this leader.

Third, I realized for the first time watching Obama’s speech that this election was played “for keeps,” and we have chosen a man to serve as our president for four years.  I’ve forgotten what it’s like to want to tune in when presidents ask to address the nation.  Now we can feel something we haven’t felt in eight years: inspiration.

Fare Collection? Prove It!

I sympathize with the T’s difficulties collecting fares on the Green Line.

Traditionally, subway stations (in New York, for example) separate train platforms from the outside world with fare gates.  To get to the platform you have to pay the fare, so when a train arrives everyone can step on immediately.  Many Green Line stations are immediately adjacent to the street, though.  Equipping these with any sort of fare gate would be logistically untenable.

Commuter Rail stations are often similarly situated, but their stops are farther apart.  Conductors can let everyone aboard freely and then collect fares en route.  With some Green Line stops only a block apart, there’s no time for that.

Buses seem like a great model for these streetcar-like trains.  Stops are closely spaced and street-adjacent.  Bus drivers, of course, police fare collection as passengers board through the front door, but on a 22 meter Green Line train one door isn’t enough.  Either passengers will end up “stuck” at the back when they need to alight, or (more likely) people will cluster near the front door, leaving the rest of the car underutilized.

Adding to the unique challenges of the Green Line is one common to most transit systems: everyone’s going the same way.  People commute into the subway in the morning and back out in the evening.  On the Green Line, this means most people are boarding inbound trains at the tricky above-ground stops, but boarding outbound trains at the more traditional underground stations.

The T has tried some interesting solutions to these problems.

Through the end of 2006, for example, outbound trips were free above ground.  The many people disembarking at every stop could use any door.  On inbound trips, they only needed the front door generally, since very few people would need to exit before the subway (and they could stay up front).

For rush hour trips, when one door is simply insufficient, the T tried a “Show-and-Go” program, where passengers with a pass could hold it up while boarding.  An inspector might be on hand to supervise and police the process, or it might be largely an honor system.

In 2007, CharlieCards came out in full force: plastic cards that store cash value and/or monthly passes in electronic form.  Inspectors were then stationed on platforms with hand-held card readers, collecting fares before trains arrived.

These policies express trust in passengers, while still supporting fare collection.  Some people might try to sneak aboard during “Show-and-Go” with an expired pass (or no pass), and some might slip unnoticed onto a platform while an inspector’s back is turned, but they might also be caught and made to pay.

The inspectors disappeared after a few months, leaving mild chaos in their absence.  They’re back now, but without their card readers—their one weapon in fare collection.  Reduced to the role of “hall monitors,” they now just ask everyone to board through the front door only, sacrificing efficiency for rigidity.

This is insulting.  Morally, I’m entitled to board any train I want: I paid the T $59 for the privilege.  Of course, I expect to have to prove that, so I’ve carried a valid monthly pass each and every time I’ve stepped onto MBTA property.  The insult isn’t the request for passengers to prove they paid; the insult is the assumption that we haven’t.  It’s a subtle but critical distinction.

Assuming most passengers are like me—honest commuters just trying to get to work—the T should let us aboard freely.  To catch fare evaders, ask passengers randomly for proof of their payment.  Many transit systems, including some in California and many abroad, use just such a “Proof of Payment” system.  The T even promised one in 2007, but then never followed through.

Through signage and announcements, ask those paying cash to board at the front door, while letting everyone else board unchecked.  Then have inspectors patrol trains and platforms, asking for proof of payment.  Cash-payers can show a receipt, and everyone else can show their CharlieCard or CharlieTicket.  When you find someone with no payment, levy a $400 fine.  (The current fine for fare evasion is $25.)

Catching one person can then cover the revenue lost from 199 other fare evaders!  Sure, the math is more subtle than that after accounting for people who won’t pay the fine and for the inspectors’ salaries, but it’s workable.

An approach like this restores trust in honest commuters: we can board efficiently at any door.  Cash fares are largely unaffected: they board the front door, like in any of the previous systems (and a good system of warnings for out of town or first-time fare evaders will make it even more transparent).  And true fare evaders?  They finally pay up.

Personally, I’ll strongly support any move toward this system, whether implemented through MBTA policy, or through Massachusetts law.

You Stink… If You Blink

The T has introduced a new campaign to improve courtesy on its trains and buses.  I applaud the sentiment, at least.  On the Green Line we contend with these (top three) acts of rudeness every day:

  1. Refusing to Move Back. People fill the front third of the train, forcing newcomers to wedge themselves in a doorway, while leaving the rear so empty there are free seats.  Don’t be afraid of the stairs (that’s climacophobia).
  2. Blocking Doors.  Obviously someone has to stand by the door when the train is crowded, but when the door opens you need to step aside — preferably onto the street.  You’ll be able to get back in.
  3. Playing Loud Music.  Subways already produce 90 to 115 decibels (dBA) of sound, and I can hear your music from 10 meters away.  Enough!  I wouldn’t mind as much if I ever heard a nice Rachmaninov melody in the air, but it’s only ever rap music!

When the T last tried a courtesy campaign, they gave out free Dunkin Donuts coupons to people seen doing polite things.  This time, they’ve just made a series of signs.  “Don’t be a Lout.  Let them out.”  The font on the signs is vaguely reminiscent of Harry Potter’s title font—appropriate, since only magic can make this campaign work.

I particularly enjoy this “button” from the MBTA’s “Commuter Rail Maps and Schedules” page:

MBTA's Courtesy Counts Campaign

MBTA

Once again paraphrasing Josh Lyman: the blinking is what really makes it art.

Two Plus Two Equals One Tax Incentive

I hate accounting policy.

For my 403(b) retirement plan, my employer contributes “5% of [my] base salary up to $34,000; 10% of [my] base salary above $34,000.”  If I make (hypothetically) $68,000, then I should get 5% on half of it, and 10% on the other half — 7.5% on average.  That’s $425 per month.

Sixth graders, are you following this?

Now let’s all guess why my last paycheck shows only $283 (adjusted for my hypothetical salary, of course).  What happened to the other $142?

It turns out my “averaging” technique is wrong.  My employer will contribute 5% until they’ve covered $34,000 in earnings, and then switch to paying 10% for the rest of the year.  Most years this is perfectly fine, since I can’t spend this money until long after the year ends, so the total is what counts.

However, what about this year?  If I was only eligible to join the plan in July (halfway through the year), then I’ll only see 5% contributions all year!  I miss out on that 2.5% difference.

Of course, I used a $68,000 example salary to make the math easier, but really anybody who makes more than that cutoff amount suffers to some degree.  I’m outraged!

(Okay, I’m not really outraged, but I am mildly disappointed to learn that some of my unhatched chickens will never hatch—and they were my retirement chickens!)