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Turntable Listening Experiment and Wrap-Up Tuesday, November 21, 2023

A few weeks ago, The Tracking Angle posted a YouTube video comparing two turntables, using the same arm, cartridge and phono preamp.

The two unit sounded surprisingly different to my ear, given the only change was the actual device holding and spinning the LP (assuming, of course, that when the arm was moved it was properly set up; given Michael Fremer was the one performing the test, it seems a good assumption).

But that gave me an idea. Since I had a few cartridges, turntables and preamps here, I thought I would perform the same experiment. I sourced the same LP from Japan, bought an A/D converter (the Focusrite Scarlett 2i2 4th Gen), and made seven recordings, with various combinations of Turntable, Phono Preamp and Cartridge. I also stripped the audio out of the Tracking Angle's YouTube video, for a total of nine recordings of the same track.

But rather than show what equipment was being compared, I took those nine completely blind and anonomized recordings and posted them to Mastodon, asking people to provide their rankings and impressions without knowing what was what.

Thanks

Before I provide the summary information, I wanted to thank the people who took the time to participate in the experiment. The recordings, all told, take about 55 minutes to listen to, and often people made multiple passes to decide on their rankings. Hopefully it was as fun for them as it was for me.

Caveat

As I indicated in the "toot", the various recordings were not level-matched. I did the best I could in the analog domain, but in general the output of the preamps were high enough that the Focusrite couldn't "drop" the level any lower. I didn't want to manipulate things in the digital domain, so I left it to listeners to level-match.

My own rankings were not included in the test, since there was no "real" way for me to listen blind...and I was well aware of all the telltale indications of what was what after doing all the recordings. I tried shuffling the playback order and making multiple passes that way, but I couldn't eliminate bias, so...

Results

Given the caveat above, these results don't necessarily correspond to my rankings. Rather, they're the average of the rankings provided by the participants. And there's no "right" or "wrong" answer!

With that in mind:

  1. Sample F, ranking 2.33 - Aesthetix Rhea Signature phono preamplifier, Bang & Olufsen Beogram 4000 linear-tracking turntable, Bang & Olufsen MMC20CL cartridge from 1981.

    A bit of a surprise, frankly! The Rhea is an all-tube phono preamplifier that's quite well regarded, and it was well matched with the vintage 1972 turntable and cartridge.

  2. Sample B, ranking 3.17 - Brinkmann Edison Mk II phono preamplifier, Brinkmann Taurus direct-drive turntable, Brinkmann 12.1 arm, Audio-Technica AT-ART1000 Moving Coil Cartridge.

    The Edison is a hybrid Tube/SS design, with a solid state initial gain stage and a tube output stage.

  3. Sample A, ranking 3.5 - Brinkmann Edison Mk II phono preamplifier, Bang & Olufsen Beogram 4000 linear-tracking turntable, MMC20CL cartridge from 1981.

  4. Sample H, ranking 3.66 - MoFi MasterPhono - Bang & Olufsen Beogram 4000 linear-tracking turntable, Bang & Olufsen MMC20CL cartridge from 1981.

    The MoFi is a recently released solid state Phono Preamp. This particular recording lowered the peak levels (gain) compared to sample C, featured later, but was otherwise identical.

  5. Sample G - ranking 4.43 - CH Precision P10 phono preamplifier, TechDAS AirForce III Premium turntable, SAT CF-12 tonearm, Lyra Atlas Lambda SL cartridge.

    This recording came from the YouTube video, and is the less expensive of the two Tracking Angle setups...at around $300K.

  6. Sample I - ranking 5 - Aesthetix Rhea Signature phono preamplifier, Bang & Olufsen Beogram 4000 linear-tracking turntable, Bang & Olufsen MMC20CL cartridge from 1981.

    A shock to me! Sample I is identical to the winner, Sample F - except it's uncompressed, whereas Sample F is encoded with high-bit-rate AAC. ¯_(ツ)_/¯

  7. Sample E - ranking 6.25 - MoFi MasterPhono - Bang & Olufsen Beogram 4000 linear-tracking turntable, Soundsmith SMMC20CL+ cartridge.

    The Soundsmith cartridge is a modern, drop-in replacement for the vintage MMC20CL, made by Peter Ledermann of Soundsmith. (It's one down from their top-of-the-line SMMC20CLV.)

  8. Sample C - ranking 6.6 - MoFi MasterPhono, Bang & Olufsen Beogram 4000 linear-tracking turntable, Bang & Olufsen MMC20CL cartridge from 1981.

    Identical to 6 save for the cartridge.

  9. Sample G - ranking 7.2 - CH Precision P10 phono preamplifier, OMA3 turntable, SAT CF-12 tonearm, Lyra Atlas Lambda SL cartridge.

    This recording came from the YouTube video, and is the more expensive of the two Tracking Angle setups...at around $600K.

I found these results extremely interesting. In general, people seemed to prefer the tube preamps to the solid state ones. Given the LP is cut quite hot, I'm guessing that there was a preference for the sound of the tubes at the margins, vs Solid State. The tube amps were all set to their lowest available gain levels for the high-output Moving Iron cartridges and appropriately for Moving Coil; the MasterPhono was set, using a test record, for the correct 0dB level at 1kHz.

The vintage Beogram turntable did remarkably well in the public rankings, despite its age, as did the vintage cartridge. In identical setups, the newer Soundsmith version ranked better...but it was close. Overall I thought all the B&O cartridges had a bit of a mid-bass boost, and, as mentioned above, are quite high output. Sample H was an attempt to keep the peak levels a bit lower and give things a tad more headroom.

Finally, the extremely expensive Tracking Angle combos didn't perform as well as expected with the pubic, despite their excellent reputations and reviewed performance. I'm not sure that means anything, since experts indicate they're some of the finest combinations of equipment ever made.

But, what it does show is that you don't necessarily need to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to get a setup that you'll enjoy... and enjoyment, after all, is the point.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Plastic Fantastic Sunday, November 07, 2021

I'm sure it's clear from everything I write, but I am, as they say, an Old.

Part of that involves going through many technological transitions: computers; cars; TV; cable, satellite; cell phones; BBS systems; internet; touch-tone phones... I mean, it goes on and on.

Many of those are major advances; certainly, I wouldn't want to go back to the days before computing was ubiquitous. At least, I don't think I would. Probably.

Ch-ch-changes

Music has always been an important part of my life. The first thing I ever saved up to buy, in a serious way, was a decent stereo: a Sansui integrated amp, Thorens turntable, Nakamichi TX-2 tape deck and a pair of AVID 230 speakers. I think nearly all of two summers' wages went into this, and the rack to put it in. (Sadly, it was later all stolen out of my dorm room in college.)

Over the years, along with that equipment came a lot of music starting, of course, with LPs. (Embarrassingly, I think the first album I bought with my own earnings was the Jaws soundtrack. It's a great soundtrack, but geez...nerd.)

For the most part, over the years changes to "music storage" were motivated by either "convenience" (vinyl LPs weren't something you could play "portably"; CDs took up space; etc) or "quality" (much less common, but CDs were an attempt to be better and more robust than vinyl; basically all other attempts at improving quality have failed in the broad market -- people don't seem to care).

But at each point, something was lost in the transition. Leaving cassettes aside, the transition from vinyl to CDs basically lost the album art and liner notes. The move to digital lost the physical media entirely, so even the size-reduced "cover" was gone, tactile experience lost. And streaming has been, well, awful for artists and completely eliminated the whole idea of "owning" an album...you almost don't even care whether you've "selected" something...with no cost, there's no need to engage, research, or even think about it.

Sure, streaming service. Hey, iTunes. Just put on something I'd like. Whatever.

The Wayside

But, in that ubiquity, we've left so much behind.

The whole experience of music stores; talking with a proprietor whose tastes help you find new things (hi, long-ago-closed Tom's Tracks in Providence!; hey there, long-ago-closed Town and Campus in Plymouth!); flipping through bins of beautiful covers; reading Robert Christgau's haiku-like descriptions of music in his guide; trying to figure out what the hell he was trying to say.

And then, selecting—sometimes on instinct—and bringing it home. Committing real money...and being invested in what's going to happen. The experience of opening an album; coaxing the disc out of the sleeve; placing it on a turntable, cleaning it, carefully lining up the stylus with the lead-in groove and...with the descent...a soft pop...and, somehow, music, taking you on a journey.

Comprehension

I look at a CD and I kind of understand the deal with how it functions. You take waveform in the analog domain, where we all live. You sample that at a rate that basically works. You record the numbers. You burn the bits to a disc. It basically makes sense. It's a scheme I could have thought up.

Mono music is kind of the same. Waveform makes wiggles. You trace the wiggles on a disc. You play back the wiggles. I get it.

Stereo, though, I just don't know. 45-degree cuts? A single groove that somehow produces two channels? I mean, the music is literally right there. It's entirely visible with your eyes, and yet so mysterious. It's not something I would have thought of. Analog is a kind of crazy, weird thing.

There's some sort of magic going on.

Experience

Sure, there are limitations, as there are with everything. As "receivers" of the information we're profoundly limited.

We're also limited in attention, which has, at least in my case, gotten worse over the years. Albums, though, are something you can't really ignore, because in 17 minutes or so they demand your attention as you need to lift, flip, clean and start side 2.

It's an experience that has to be planned by the musicians. Sequencing. Time between tracks. The side break. The inner sleeve, gatefold, cover, type, art...all of it working together, encouraging attention, focus.

Focus

And I think that's part of it. Vinyl encourages—requires—attention. You have to be an active listener.

It can clearly sound just as good (or bad) as any other method of music storage and reproduction. I'm not going to make claims of some sort of sonic miracle that occurs when stylus hits groove. But I am going to say that everything, as a whole, is just so much more enjoyable.

Your own focus makes you hear things. And the trip the musicians planned for you takes you somewhere. They tell you a story. You just have to listen.

You have to focus.

It Came from the Basement

So, up from the basement came my old records. A turntable from years ago, restored and plugged in.

With the spinning, the vibration, the concentration, a broad smile. It's really good to have this music ritual back.

And amazing to discover what you can hear when you give yourself the time and space to focus.

I Like Batteries! Friday, August 07, 2020

I've probably mentioned on the blog before that I'm a big fan of electric cars.

Starting in 2013 with a first generation Tesla Model S P85, both Z and I have been powered by electrons, with two leased BMW i3s and we've now replaced the Tesla with a Porsche Taycan.

I was a guest on the I Like Batteries podcast, and like a little yapping dog who just won't shut up, I overstayed my welcome, so it was split into two parts. Part one went live today, and part two drops next week.

Enjoy! (That should probably end in a question mark, or be surrounded by scare quotes.)

https://pod.co/ilikebatteries/030-dave-nanian-likes-battery-powered-cars-part-1-of-2

Anniversaries Sunday, April 05, 2020

One year after my Dad's death, I was flying back home, out of the first COVID-19 hot zone in the Northwestern US, listening to people cough, feeling the tension in the air.

It was the same flight I caught rushing home, after cutting our vacation short, after he said not to worry: there was plenty of time, and I should enjoy the snow. The same flight where, well before dawn, Mom said to hurry home, things had taken a turn for the worse. The same flight where, on landing in Denver, I found out there wasn't plenty of time.

We were too late. He died while we were in the air.

Today he would have been 92.

The last voicemail I have from him, he was trying to help Z with her ailing Mom, offering advice from a lifetime of medical experience, researching the best approaches to take.

And in the last few months, as we've all gone through this slow-moving wave of death, sickness and horror, he would have wanted to help. He would have found a way.

He was stubborn that way.

He was stupid that way.

He was selfless that way.

Happy Birthday, Dad. We all miss you.

Modern Times Friday, February 07, 2020

Over the years, Shirt Pocket has been hosted on a number of local Unix-based systems. As I recall, it started out on a Cobalt Qube, then moved to a Power PC Mac mini, then the original "tall" Intel Mac mini, and finally to a "short" Intel mini.

These systems served us well, were easy to manage and, important for the time, meant we were fully "in control" of our site and mail.

There were downsides, though.

Apple has obviously moved away from the whole idea of "macOS Server", leaving a lot of the details of keeping things up to date and relevant to the "modern internet"...and eliminating the original "easy to use and manage" reasons for selecting it in the first place.

But even more than that, since the mini wasn't in a data center, extended power or network outages would take our site down completely—an obviously ridiculous situation. A few years ago, a huge snowstorm took cut power for two weeks, and while I was able to find alternate "hosting" for the site (thanks, Jon!), it wasn't ideal. Not to mention when it would happen when I was on vacation.

Fortunately, while macOS Server is no longer really relevant or useful, in its place are a million cloud-based providers, many from huge vendors like Microsoft, Google and Amazon.

A few years ago, I moved from our own Kerio mail server to one of those: Microsoft's Office 365 Exchange service. That went extremely well, and so, with the threat of winter storms looming, it was time to make the change.

As of Wednesday, all of Shirt Pocket is now "in the cloud", as it were. I'm using SSDNodes, a high quality provider with great support for many Unix variants, Docker, fast bandwidth, etc.

Bruce had used them, successfully, to bring up our Paddle-specific micro services, with no downtime during that transition. A good choice.

So, with that experience under his belt, Bruce guided me through the transition (doing much of the work while I looked over his shoulder, learning how to actually work with Docker, Traefic, etc) and the result?

So, we're now up entirely in the cloud. The Mac mini is off, after probably 10 years of always-on (well, mostly-on) service. One of its RAID drives had died and come back to life, and I had a SuperDuper! backed-up SSD ready to go, but now it won't be needed.

You'll get better service with hopefully no downtime, I don't have to worry about the power going off when I'm away, and thanks to Bruce, I now mostly understand how to use, configure and maintain a Docker-based set of services that, in aggregate, look just like the old web site.

While the dusty old graphics and layout still look like they were created in 2005 (yeah, I know - I have to allocate my limited time carefully), and you probably didn't notice anything had changed, the whole thing works...better!

Can't ask for more than that.

And now, after many years of faithful service, the mini gets a well deserved nap. Well done, little guy. Enjoy the rest.

Hoops, Jumped Through Tuesday, November 12, 2019

I don't talk about it much on the blog, but I get an enormous amount of support email. The quantity can be overwhelming at times, and without some automation, it would be nearly impossible for me to do it alone.

Which I do. Every support reply, in all the years we've been here, has been written by me. (Yes, even the Dog's auto response. Sorry, he can't really type. But wouldn't it be sweet if he could?)

No Downtime

The basic problem with being a small "indie" shop is quite simple: you get no time off. I've literally worked every single day since starting Shirt Pocket, without fail, to ensure users get the help they request in their time of need. It's just part of the deal.

But, every so often you need a break, and to try to enforce the "less work" idea there, I try to bring something other than a Mac...since that means I can't do development, but can respond to users as needed.

Automation: It's Not Just for Print Bureaus

Many of the support requests are sent through the "Send to Shirt Pocket" button in the log window, especially when people want help determining what part of their hardware is failing. That submission includes a ZIP file of the settings involved in the backup, which contains the log, some supplementary diagnostic information, and any SuperDuper! crash logs that might have occurred.

One of the first things I did to automate my workflow, beyond some generally useful boilerplate, was to use Noodlesoft's Hazel to detect when I download the support ZIP from our tracking system.

When Hazel sees that happen, it automatically unzips the package, navigates through its content, pulls the most recent log and diagnostic information, and presents them to me so I can review them.

It's a pretty useful combination of Hazel's automation and a basic shell script, and I've used this setup for years. It's saved countless hours of tedium...something all automation should do.

Seriously if you have a repetitive task, take the time to automate it—you'll be happy you did.

Two Years Ago

So, a couple of winters ago, in order to fulfill the "try not to work a lot on vacation" pledge, I took a cellular connected iPad Pro along as my "travel computer". While it was plenty fast enough to do what I needed to do, the process of dealing with these support events was convoluted, at best.

I had to use a combination of applications to achieve my goal, and when that become tiresome (so much dragging and tapping and clicking), I couldn't figure out how to automate it with Workflow.

Now, I'm not inexperienced with this stuff: I've been writing software since something like 1975. But no matter what I tried, Workflow just couldn't accomplish what I wanted to do. Which made the iPad Pro impractical as my travel computer: I just couldn't work efficiently on it.

(I know a lot of people can accomplish a lot on an iPad. But, this was just not possible.)

One Year Ago

So, the next year, I decided to purchase a Surface Go with LTE. It's not a fast computer, but it's small and capable, and cheap: much cheaper than the iPad Pro was.

And, by using the Windows Subsystem for Linux, in combination with PowerShell, I was able to easily automate the same thing I was doing with Hazel on macOS.

I was rather surprised how quickly it came together, with execution flow passing trivially from Windows-native to Unix-native and back to Windows-native.

This made traveling with the Surface Go quite nice! Not only does the Surface Go have a good keyboard, I had no significant issues during the two vacations I took with that setup, plus it was small and light.

This Year

But I'm not always out-and-about with a laptop, and sometimes support requests come in when I've just got a phone.

With iOS, I was back to the same issues that iPadOS had: there was no good way to automate the workflow. Even with iOS/iPadOS 13, it could not be done.

In fact, iOS 13 made things worse: even the rudimentary process I'd used up until iOS 12 was made even more convoluted, with multiple steps going from a Download from the web page into Files, and then into Documents, and then unzipping, and then drilling down, and then scrolling, opening, etc.

On a iPhone, it's even worse.

Greenish Grass

Frustrated by this, a few weeks ago I purchased a Pixel 4, to see how things had progressed on the Android front.

I hadn't used an Android phone since the Galaxy S9, and Google continues to move the platform forward.

As I said in a "epic" review thread

iOS and Android applications are kind of converging on a similar design and operational language. There are differences, but in general, it's pretty easy to switch back and forth, save for things that are intentionally hard (yes, Apple, you've built very tall walls around this lovely garden).

And while Android's security has, in general, improved, they haven't removed the ability to do some pretty cool things.

And one of those cool things was to actually bring up my automatic support workflow.

Mischief, Managed

Now, given you can get a small Linux terminal for Android, I probably could have done it the same way as with Windows, with a "monitoring" process that then called a shell script that did the other stuff just like before.

But, instead, I decided to try using Automate, a neat little semi-visual automation environment, to do it. And within about two hours, including the time needed to learn Automate, it was up and running.

Automate Unzip Logs Workflow

I'm not saying the result isn't nerdy, but it was doable! And that made it entirely practical to respond to people when I'm using a phone, even when they send in a more complex case.

Will that be enough to encourage me to stay on Android? I don't know. But, combined with the other iOS 13 annoyances (apps that get killed when they shouldn't, constant location prompts even after you've said "Allow Always", general instability...so many things), it's been a comparatively pleasant experience...Android has come a long way, even in the last two years.

It's really nice to have alternatives. Maybe I'll just travel with a phone this year!

Unrelated Stuff I Like Friday, August 09, 2019

As we plug along with our Catalina changes, I thought I might write a quick post talking about some other stuff I'm enjoying right now. Because, hey, why not.

Coffee Related

Software Development and Coffee go together like Chocolate and My Mouth. And so, a lot of it is consumed around these parts.

I would never claim to be an expert in these things, but I've really been enjoying the Decent Espresso DE1PRO espresso machine. It doesn't just give me a way to brew espresso—many machines can do that—but it gives me the information I need to get better at it, and the capability to make the kind of adjustments needed to do so consistently.

It's a pretty remarkable machine. Basically, it's a very "complete" hardware platform (pumps, heaters, valves, pressure monitors, flow meters, etc) that's driven entirely by software. It comes with a tablet that runs the machine's "UI". And you can tap a button to brew an espresso.

But you can also see the exact pressure/flow/temperature curves happening in real-time as the brew happens. And, even more importantly, you can extensively change the behavior of the machine—adding pauses, changes in pressure, temperature, flow, etc—very easily.

You can emulate lever-style brewing. You can do "Slayer" style shots. You can do simple E61-style shots. The possibilities are endless.

And all of this happens in a machine that's much smaller than any other full capability espresso machine I've ever seen.

And that's not even going into the super helpful and friendly owner forums.

I've spent at least eight months with mine, which I preordered years before it shipped, and it's really made a huge difference. Highly recommended, and surprisingly available at Amazon, but also at the Decent Espresso site. There are less expensive models at the Decent site as well: the PRO has longer duty cycle pumps.

Power Related

A few years ago, I purchase a Sense Energy Monitor to see what I could learn about power consumption in our house beyond just "the bill every month".

Sense is a local company that uses machine learning and smart algorithms to identify individual loads by sensing waveform shapes and patterns in your main electrical feed. So it can identify, over time, a lot of the devices that are using power, how much power they're using out of your entire power use, etc. Which, as a problem, is super difficult...and they've done a very good job.

Sense can identify quite a few things, given time, including electric car charging, refrigerator compressors, AC units, sump pumps, resistance heaters, washing machines, dryers, etc. And it's getting better at these things all the time.

But, of course, they know they can't figure out everything on their own. It's easy for us to plug something in, knowing what it is, and wonder "hey, Sense, why can't you tell me that's an iPhone charger", when that tiny 5W load is deep in the noise of the signal.

So what they've done, on top of their "line" sensing, is integrate with "smart plugs" from TP-Link and Belkin. You can identify what's connected to those plugs, and the Sense will find them and integrate that information into its own energy picture. Plus, the additional information helps to train the algorithms needed to detect things automatically.

It's cool stuff. If you go in not expecting miracles ("Waah! It didn't detect my Roomba!"), and you're interested in this kind of thing, it's pretty great.

$299 at Amazon.

Plug Related

Speaking of smart plugs, boy there are a lot of bad products out there.

There seems to be a reference platform that a lot of Chinese-sourced products are using, with a 2.4GHz radio, some basic firmware, and an app framework, and a lot of products lightly customize that and ship.

Belkin

I don't know if that's the case with Belkin, but their products, while somewhat appealing, fall down hard in a pretty basic case: if there's any sort of power failure, the plug doesn't remember its state, and comes up off.

Given the plug can remember many other things, including its WiFi SSID and password, you'd think it could remember the state the plug was in, but, no.

That behavior along makes it unacceptable.

Not Recommended - no link for you, Belkin.

TP-Link

TP-Link has two products in its Kasa line that do power monitoring: the single socket HS110 and the 6-outlet HS300 power strip.

Both work fine, although the HS110 mostly covers up the 2nd outlet in a wall outlet, and that makes things inconvenient. The HS300 is a better product with a better design. All six outlets are separately controllable and each measures power as well. As a bonus, there are three 5V USB charger ports.

Both properly maintain the status of plugs across a power outage.

I've used both of these successfully in conjunction with the Sense. Standalone, the software is meh-to-OK for most things. It's fine.

There's support for Alexa and Google Home but not HomeKit (the Homebridge plugin only seems to support the HS100).

Highly Recommended for Sense users (especially the HS300); Recommended with caveats for standalone users.

Currant

The Currant smart plug is so much better than any of the other choices in most ways, it's kind of remarkable.

Unlike most other smart plugs, the Currant has two sockets, accessible from the side. It works in either horizontal or vertical orientations, with either side up (the plug can be swapped), and it's got a position sensor inside, so its app can unambiguously tell you which plug is left/right/top/bottom.

The plug itself is attractive and well built. The software is great, and if it's built on the same platform as the others, they've gone well beyond everyone else in terms of customizing their solution.

Plugs are quickly added to your network and the app. New plugs are found almost instantaneously, and announced on the home screen.

Plugs can be named easily, associated with icons and rooms, and the power measurements involved constantly update and are accurate.

Their software automatically recognizes usage patterns and suggests schedules that can be implemented to save energy.

You can even tell them what your power supplier is, and they'll automatically look up current energy costs and integrate that into the display.

There's support, again, for Alexa and Google Home but not HomeKit, and there's no Homebridge plugin. A future version looks to be coming that's a regular wall outlet with the same capabilities.

Finally, as of right now, there isn't (sniff) any support for the plugs in the Sense system.

All that said, these come Highly Recommended for standalone users...and I'd even recommend them for Sense users who don't need these particular loads integrated into the app. They're still measured, of course...they're just not broken out unless recognized normally via Sense's load sensing algorithms.

Here's hoping the Sense folks add support.

The WiFi versions of these plugs were initially expensive at $59.99. However, as of this posting, they're half price at $29.99. Available at Amazon.

RIP Kenneth Nanian - 1928-2019 Wednesday, March 13, 2019

On March 7, 2019, I unfortunately lost my Dad (which is why support has been a bit slow recently). I thought I'd post my eulogy for him here, as delivered, should anyone care. He was a good man, and will be missed.

Good morning, everyone. I’m David Nanian, up here representing my Mom and my brothers, John and Paul. Thanks so much for coming.

All of us here knew my Dad and were, without question, better off for it.

He’d greet you, friend or soon-to-be-friend, with a smile and a twinkle in his eye because, well, that was the kind of person he was. He exuded warmth and kindness. It was obvious as soon as you saw him.

And so we’re here today to celebrate him. To celebrate his achievements, certainly, because he was a great doctor. But also to celebrate his … his goodness. He was, truly, a good man.

It took my brothers and me a while to realize this. Like most kids, we went through the typical phases as we matured, where Dad went from a benevolent, God-like presence when we were kids, to a capricious one when we were teens… but that was mostly about us, not him.

Dad worked hard. Mom was a constant, grounding presence at home, but Dad’s typical day started early, and he usually wasn’t home until 8.

Dad’s sunny optimism and caring nature helped to heal many patients, but it took a lot out of him, and when he did come home, he was bone tired. After eating he’d usually fall asleep in his chair in front of the TV—only to awaken if we tried to change the channel. My brothers and I even tried slowly ramping down the volume, switching the channel, and then ramping it back up…it would sometimes work, but when it didn’t he’d wake up with a start, hopping mad.

He’d work hard, and would cover other doctors’ shifts on holidays, so that he’d have larger blocks of time for vacation with the family. And when that time came, he was a sometimes exhausting whirlwind of energy, trying to cram in eleven-something months of missed family time into a few focused weeks…something he’d be looking forward to with anticipation, while we were a bit more apprehensive.

Where would the new “shortcut” on the ride to Kennebunkport take us this time? Was Noonan’s Lobster Hut 3 minutes or 3 hours away?

It was always an adventure.

When I was in my teens, Dad gave me a job mounting cardiograms. I think all three of us did this work at one point or another. It gave us a chance, not just to earn a little money to fritter away on comics or whatever, but also to see Dad at work. There, we could see how admired he was by his colleagues, staff and patients, and I began to see him not just as the “Dad” presence he was during our childhood, but as a real person.

During this time (and even today: Mom recently had this happen in an elevator when Dad was in the hospital), people would constantly stop me in the hallways and tunnels of Rhode Island Hospital as I was doing an errand for him—typically, getting him a Snickers bar—and they’d tell me what a great person he was. How he’d helped take care of their parent, or had a terrific sense of humor, or how quick he was with a kind word or helpful comment.

Later, during my college years, my friends—after meeting my parents—would constantly tell me how awesome my Mom and Dad were. How normal. How much they wish their own parents were like mine.

Which was weird at the time, but, I mean, they were right. I have great parents. I had a great Dad.

So I wanted to tell three little stories about why that was, from when I was old enough to understand.

Dad’s enthusiasm and optimism were positive traits, but they occasionally got him into some trouble.

I’d recently graduated from College, and that winter our family went on a ski vacation to Val d’Isere.

Dad was absolutely dying to try Raclette—which, if you don’t know, is a dish popular in that region where a wheel of cheese is heated at the table and scraped onto plates that have potatoes, pickles, vegetables, meats. It’s delicious, but quite filling.

So, we went to a small, family restaurant, and they brought out the various parts of the dish—there were quite a few plates of the traditional items—along with a big half-wheel of cheese and its heating machine.

Now, normally, that 8 pound chunk would last the restaurant a long time. It seemed super clear to the rest of us, just from the size, that there was no way it was “our cheese”. But Dad was absolutely convinced we were supposed to finish the whole thing. To do otherwise was to insult our hosts.

And so, to the obvious horror of the owners watching from the kitchen, Dad—in an attempt to not be ungrateful, to not be the ugly American—tried to finish the cheese.

The rest of us tapped out, but more plates came as Dad—never one to give up—desperately tried to do the right thing.

In the end, much to his chagrin, and the owner’s obvious relief, he couldn’t. Dad apologized for not being able to finish (I think, this is where my brothers and I snarkily told him to tell the waitress “Je suis un gros homme”), and they replied with something along the lines of “That’s quite all right”—but Dad’s attempt to conquer the wheel with such gusto, for the right-yet-wrong reason, even though we could all see the effort was doomed, was human and funny and endearing.

He loved to sail. We had a small boat, a 22-foot Sea Sprite named Systolee, and we’d sail it for fun, but Dad also participated in the East Greenwich Yacht Club’s Sea Sprite racing series.

Season after season, we’d come in last, or second to last, but he had a great time doing it, holding the tiller while wearing his floppy hat, telling us—the crew—to do this or that with the sails.

I’d had some success one summer racing Sunfish, and the next year, Dad let me skipper the Systolee in the race series, with him and Mom as crew.

I didn’t make it easy. It was important to be aggressive, especially at the start of a race, and both Mom and Dad would follow my various orders nervously as we came within inches of other boats, trying to hit the line exactly as the starting gun went off.

But he let me do it. He watched me as, one day, I climbed the mast of the pitching boat in the middle of a race in a stormy bay to retrieve a lost halyard—admittedly a crazy thing to do—despite his fear of heights, since he knew abandoning the race would be end up being my failure, not his.

And that season, we came in second overall. But more than the trophy and the opportunity, he gave me the gift of trusting me, and treating me as an equal, week after week. Of allowing me to be better than him at something he loved.

Finally, Dad had some health challenges later in life. At one point, he came down with some weird peripheral neuropathy that was incorrectly diagnosed as Lou Gehrig’s Disease.

Fortunately, more testing in Boston showed that it wasn’t ALS, but some sort of neuropathy, and while it didn’t take his life, it did take away much of his balance, and with that, it took away skiing.

Dad loved skiing—and missed a real career writing overly positive ski condition reports for snow-challenged Eastern ski areas—and from my earliest days skiing with him it was clear he wanted nothing more than to be the oldest skier on the slopes, teaching his grandkids to love it the way he did.

Possibly, he just wanted to be old enough to be able to ski for free. He did love a bargain.

Anyway.

He didn’t let his neuropathy hold him back—of course he didn’t—and started traveling with Mom all over the world, and they’d regale us with the stories of the places they’d been, the classes they took…the number of bridge hands they won (or lost). He especially loved the safari they went on in Tanzania, and brought back many great pictures of the landscape and wildlife they’d seen.

He loved learning new things, and had more time to read, to make rum raisin ice cream (the secret, he’d tell us, is to soak the raisins in the rum…overnight!), and to enjoy the Cape with Mom. He was able to relax and play with his grandkids, and it was great to see him entertain my friends’ kids as well.

When he got his cancer diagnosis, he took the train to Boston to meet with his doctors, learned about Uber and Lyft, and was just fiercely determined, independent and optimistic. To illustrate his attitude, he just had a cataract repaired and he had the other one scheduled to be fixed in a few weeks.

During this time, the doctors and staff at Mass General would tell us that he was their hero. Not, I think, for facing his disease with courage and determination, although he did do that. But because he was 88, 89, 90, and full of life, of humor, and of love.

And of course, we all saw that too. Because he was our hero.

The last time I was with Dad, just a few weeks ago, he was clearly feeling poorly, and while he kept a brave and cheerful facade he also, with a voice tinged with regret, wanted to make sure that I knew how proud he was of John, and Paul, and me. And how he felt badly that he never told us that enough…because he didn’t want to spoil us.

You know, books and movies through the centuries constantly depict sons and daughters desperate to get the slightest bit of approval from their dads.

For us, though, he took clear delight in what we all did. He looked with admiration and approval at John’s beautiful photography, Paul’s Peace Corps service and ultralight outdoor kit business built from his travel and experience hiking the Appalachian trail, my crazy computer stuff.

And so I told him, as clearly as I could, that it was never in doubt.

Of course we knew. 

Just as each and every one of you know how much he cared for you. Whether you were part of his family, a patient, or a friend, he made it clear. He was truly happy to know you. You were truly loved.

And now he’s gone, and the world is a little bit darker because of it. But we all have, within us, a memory of him. A memory of his kindness, his boundless optimism, his love, his zest for life.

And with that in our hearts, we can look out, perhaps at the snow outside: dirty brown, with bare patches, rocks, ice…ice covered rocks. You know, if you’re an Eastern skier: it’s “machine loosened frozen granular”.

Imagine him there, with his arm around your shoulders, and a big smile on his face, and see it the way he’d make you see it.

See that the snow condition’s fantastic. It’s always fantastic. Life is terrific. Every day.

Remember that, greet the day with a mischievous smile and an open heart, and think of him.

Relax, Have a Homebrew! Monday, October 16, 2017

Off-topic alert!

Over the past few months, I've been enjoying brewing beer at home with a Pico Pro. No doubt purists scoff a bit at the automation involved during the mash and boil, but it's a relatively small part of the beer making process...and doing a true, temperature-controlled step mash without investing in an expensive setup (not to mention the space it would take up) is a huge win.

It's been a lot of fun.

The biggest challenges, and the place where a lot of brewers fall down, are in sanitizing and controlling fermentation: keeping things at the right temperature, consistently, so the yeast can work its magic efficiently without producing off flavors.

I can't help with sanitizing (you just have to do a better job!) but I can help with fermentation!

To that end, there's a great device called a TILT Hydrometer. The TILT drops into your fermentation vessel (which, in the case of a Pico Pro, is a small, 1.75L corny keg), and transmits both temperature and specific gravity via Bluetooth 4/BTLE. It's pretty cool, and by using TiltPi, along with a Raspberry Pi Zero-W to receive the bluetooth data and log it to a Google Sheet, it does all this automatically. You just peek at the sheet every so often to see how things are doing.

That all works great, but reviewing the data I realized I was having trouble controlling the temperature precisely using an external thermometer. Given the open source nature of TiltPi, and that fact that it was built with Node-RED, I thought, hey—I could use the temperature being transmitted by the TILT as a current measurement, and then use IFTTT and a few WeMo switches to exactly control both heating and cooling!

So, over a few hours in between doing SuperDuper! stuff, I learned Node-RED, figured out how TiltPi worked, added automatic temperature control, and found/fixed some TiltPi bugs at the same time. It works great!

I've provided the TILT people with my modifications to TiltPi, and hope they'll be integrating it into the official TiltPi release. Until then, here's how you can use it:

  • Set up TiltPi according to TILT's normal instructions.
  • Download and unzip this text file and open it in your favorite editor.
  • Open the TiltPi Node-RED editor. This should be here: http://tiltpi.local:1880.
  • Copy the contents of the text file to the clipboard.
  • Using the "hamburger" menu, select Import > Clipboard. Paste the copied contents into the box, and choose to import into a "New Flow". It'll be called "Main".
  • Switch to the old flow tab and delete it.
  • Click Deploy.

That's all the hard stuff. Next

  • Set up your IFTTT Webhooks service so you get a key.
  • Copy that key to the clipboard.
  • Open TiltPi's normal interface at the URL it sent you when it started up (usually http://tiltpi.local:1880/ui/#/0).
  • Using TiltPi's hamburger menu (so many hamburgers!), select "Logging".
  • Paste your key into the IFTTT key* field.

Then, set up your various color TILTs normally. You'll see a Target Temperature slider - that's configurable on a per-TILT basis and defaults to 70F: reasonably appropriate for ale fermentation.

The next step is to set up the heat and cool steps in IFTTT. (I assume you've already got your WeMo switches configured and WeMo is connected to your IFTTT account.)

  • Create a New Applet in IFTTT.
  • For the "This" clause, add a Webhooks service.
  • For the event name, use TILT-COLOR-temp-low, TILT-COLOR-temp-high, or TILT-COLOR-temp-just-right. depending on what you want to do.
  • For "That", add the appropriate WeMo switch action.

For example, let's say that I want to control a heater for a BLUE tilt. I'd add three Webhook applets:

If BLUE-temp-low then Blue WeMo Heater Switch on
If BLUE-temp-high then Blue WeMo Heater Switch off
If BLUE-temp-just-right then Blue WeMo Heater Switch off

If you want to both heat and cool, you'd add three more events (since you unfortunately can't add extra actions to an existing event):

If BLUE-temp-low then Blue WeMo Cooler Switch off
If BLUE-temp-high then Blue WeMo Cooler Switch on
If BLUE-temp-just-right then Blue WeMo Cooler Switch off

More events can be added for more TILTs, each with its own target temperature and WeMo switch(es).

If you don't have a cooling device, and it's warm where you put your keg, do what I do: put the keg in an insulated cooler bag (I have an old version of this bag) along with an ice pack. That way, when the heater goes off, the ice pack will act as a cooler.

I hope that helps some of you make better beer. Enjoy!

Note: this post was updated on 10/22 with a new version of the flow that works better with multiple TILTs, now that I have more than one.

Racer I(talian), Part Four: Canazei to Corvara Monday, July 18, 2011

Our previous was the biggest day of climbing before the Maratona, but today wasn't much smaller, with three passes to traverse on the trip from Canazei to Corvara. And once again, we'd be doing some of the passes that would feature in the Maratona, albeit from other directions: Falzarego and Valporola.

I'd been feeling a bit better over the last day, perhaps riding into form (such as it is) before the event. But this night threw me a lovely little loop: the Shirt Pocket server went down due to lightning storms and power failures in the Boston area around 6pm my time, while I was catching up on support that built up during the day's riding.

So after barely being able to keep up with (let alone balance) my personal and work duties over the past few days, the worst happened.

Unfortunately, by the time power came back connectivity wasn't restored, and it was a few sleepless hours before everything was squared away again. The backed up emails came flooding in, and I was up until some awful hour trying to catch up. Two hours of restless sleep later, I tried to finish more before breakfast, ate, packed and jumped back on the bike.

Passo Fedaia, Falzarego and Valporola: 41.1 miles, 6,357 feet of climbing

We started climbing almost immediate, up and over Passo Fedaia, and I have to say I don't remember a darn thing about the first climb. Nothing. I attribute that to a lack of sleep, mostly, or I was just in a make-the-legs-go-round zone. Whatever it was, less than an hour later we were at the top, with a view of the Marmolada glacier.

The descent after Fedaia obvious had our guides worried, because Enrico practically begged us to be as careful as possible on the way down: it was, indeed, steep, and unbroken is the man who takes advice offered in good faith. With that kind of pitch on the descent, it didn't take us long to start up Passo Falzarego (HC, 9.3mi, 2933 feet of climbing).

This was one of my favorite climbs of the trip, with lots of switchbacks (18, as I recall), beautiful views, and a great switchback-dug-through-the-mountain a few kms from the top. A nice bar at the top meant a delicious doppio espresso macchiato, and after a regroup and some snacks we headed up the small climb from Falzarego to Valporola.

Enrico encouraged us to stop and tour the war museum here, inside the Tre Sassi fort, which was an Austrian stronghold during WWI. A bit eerie to approach, since there was an authentically dressed Austrian soldier standing guard and smoking a pipe at the entrance, the actual exhibits were excellent and, as expected, a bit horrifying, including a display of the three-headed maces and clubs soldiers used to deliver the "ultimate blow" to the wounded soldiers who had been gassed.

A lot to think about during the long, twisty descent into La Villa the climb to Corvara: our home base for the next few days.

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