Geohashing

The crazy guys at xkcd have come up with an idea they call "geohashing". The idea is that you choose a given integer lat/lon, and each day an algorithm generates a value between 0 and 1 that you add to your lat/lon, and then you go there at 4pm to see what you can see.

It is a pretty cool idea, especially because the algorithm for generating the fractional part is so geeky.

Today, for example, the location for 34N 119W puts you at a dusty crossroads in the middle of the AV. Yesterday it was a freeway offramp in Thousand Oaks.

It makes me appreciate the diversity of our little corner of the world. Within our lat/lon box arethe beaches, the Basin, the SFV, the mountains and the desert AV.

I'll be going to Saturday's meet, assuming it is reachable. See you at 4pm.

By Friday, the location of the meetup will be available on this link here

Los Angeles, Property, Racism, Classism

On the LA Times website, there is a blog that covers the property market. It is usually informative and interesting.

The crowd that reads and comments on the blog are, IMHO, a bit racist and classist. In fact, the only time the white man allows his racism flag to truly fly is when talking about property and schools, because in that context is isn't about racism, it is about "good schools" and "good investments".

A day on the blog LA Land usually goes like this. Peter links to an article. Twenty people comment that the market will continue to crash. Twenty people say that the only neighborhoods to live in are X, Y and Z (usually Palisades or Manhattan Beach). Twenty people say that there is no place for middle class in LA and they should just move to some other state.

So one typical response was on a posting about softening in the nicer neighborhoods.

Turnover in many neighborhoods is very very low. All I know is that I’ve been looking for a decent house in South Paz and San Marino for 6 months and the inventory of decent houses has gone from really really really pitiful to just really really pitiful. The one change I’m seeing is that bad houses in bad locations even in good neighborhoods will sit forever. But if you have a turnkey house on a quiet street, it will sell.

As for your situation, I feel for you. I would not want to be a first time homebuyer in SoCal. $225K dual income household is not that uncommon in SoCal and you have a lot of families to compete with. If you are looking for safe and good schools I would not even look in LA. Irvine, Cypress, Walnut, Simi, Valencia are all safe, family friendly and have good schools. Don’t be in a hurry because I’m not as kooky as most people make me out to be, I do think prices will go down further. Good luck.

To which I responded with something so over the top that I though that it would be instantaly apparent that it is a joke.

Palisades, Malibu, South Paz, are you kidding me? The SAT scores for kids from those high schools is well below 1600 and falling fast. Crime is way up with murder rates surging. The acceptance rate to Yale and Harvard are pitiful. I wouldn't go there at night without a bulletproof car and a security detail. I've seen graffitti, which means that gangs and drugs can't be far behind.

If you want to live in a decent neighborhood, really your only option is upper north-western Malibu Hills. We are fortunate in that we can send our staff to city when we need something, so we don't have to risk it ourselves, or get it off Amazon.com.

Our kids are homeschooled by ex-Oxford professors so we don't have to face the nightmare that is Harvard-Westlake.

Really we're just a hardworking middle-class family trying to get by.

C'mon. Isn't the irony apparent in that?

Two responses to my message demonstrated that the irony was not apparent.

One,

Mike G: why is Harvard-Westlake a nightmare for you? The commute from malibu would be a killer... is that the issue?

Two,

Mike, what are babbling about? Nowhere is a great neighborhood with good schools outside of some remote sector of Malibu? Thanks for the laugh. You're almost as funny as that Sean from San Marino guy who drones on about saving "face" and "manhood" as his rationale for people of his ilk stretching to buy house to placate some long lost ancestor.

Everywhere Puckhead lists has very good schools, including La Crescenta. I would differ with Walnut a tad, they have dropped off a bit in recent years and the housing stock is mediocre. But you can't go wrong in any of the other areas in the SGV shown or in the Manhattan Beach area or PV. So keep paying for your Oxford nannies or whatever and let us peons send our kids to "gang-infested" areas like San Marino or La Canada. Clearly you've never been anywhere near here if that is your take.

C'mon. They can dish out insults to neighborhoods all day long, but, they can't take it when somebody criticizes them.

Westsiders. Gah!

quote from youtube

this song is so intense

it has that duel effect that very few songs have, where you feel totally alone, but with an overwhelming sense of clarity.

Blammo!

I have that feeling of utter emotional exhaustion. Something beyond sadness or anger, where my very heart is full of ashes.

Steve is packing his things and moving out of my house.

It all came to a head last Thursday, when a nagging voice in my head became too loud to ignore. I knew he was doing drugs. All the signs were there, even if I didn't have the evidence.

And then the careful dance between brothers where we lie to one another to keep the peace began to stumble. That kind of dance requires both partners.

He walked in as Mom and I were packing his things into boxes.

He freaked out, understandably. I told him to go. He said he wouldn't.

He sent me a text saying that he would not be dismissed like some dog and that he would be staying until the end of the month. And that if I tried to evict him, that would be a six-month process.

I took that as a threat, and I got mad. No one was going to tell me what I could and couldn't do with my own house. I drove home with a hastily composed 3-day Notice to Quit and a 3-day Notice to Pay Rent or Quit. I slipped it under his door.

He yelled. I yelled. It was the first time in years that I had yelled at anyone. It is hard to make me violent. My mom was there. She was terrified by all the anger and had to leave.

He sent me an apologetic text and begged me to stay until the end of the month at least. I didn't reply.

And here it is, three days later. He sent me a text asking how we were going to divide the furniture. I replied.

The problem with drug users (if indeed he is on drugs) is that they don't maintain the way clean people do. They either get worse or they get better. Steve had been trending downward for a long time, and I knew this. My helping him out was just postponing the inevitable. But without my help, the inevitable will come quickly.

So by the time I get home, he should be gone.

And now the worry begins. At least when he stays with me I have evidence if he is sick or well; alive or dead. Even though we barely speak, I know that his bed has been slept in. When he is out there on his own, we won't hear from him for months or years, never knowing.

I feel bad about this, because my kicking him out was not done from a place of love, but, from anger. He had to go regardless, but, I could have had more mercy or more decorum.

And I've kicked him out just after he did the nicest thing he's ever done for me. He'd paid to have my hardwood floors redone. Among men like us, these are the ways love is expressed. Not with words, but, with actions.

But it won't change the outcome. Every time he's been on drugs, he gets worse and worse until he gets arrested. That list of priors is getting pretty long, and soon he'll go away for ever. Or die.

Why doesn't he see this pattern? Why won't he change?

Please don't die, Steve.

Please don't die.