Two Pop-Economics Books

Freakonomics with its clean, catchy cover was hard to miss on the New Arrival shelves at Borders for a while. The premise is catchy -- "a rogue economist explores the hidden side of everything" -- and it's a relatively short, breezy reading, with each chapter starting with a provocative statement (e.g. "why sumo wrestlers are like school teachers") and proceeding to explain the economics behind the author's reasoning. The facts and economic reasonings are interesting enough for a good, light reading, and equally quipable to spark a semi-intellectual conversation over beer.


The Undercover Economist requires a bit more motivation to pick up. While the subtitle is catchy enough -- "Exposing Why the Rich Are Rich, the Poor Are Poor--and Why You Can Never Buy a Decent Used Car!" -- I'm not sure if the comic book-like illustration of the book cover design is meant to thwart serious readers (or at least those who'd like to be taken seriously) from picking up the book. Nonetheless, this is a classic proof behind the old adage, 'don't judge a book by its cover,' and it's a much more academic and serious examination of the world through an economist (Tim Hartford is a respected writer for Financial Times).

I've never taken a business/economics class in college, so the little knowledge I have on the subject is based on self-studies or bits and pieces I've picked up over the years from newspapers and magazine. Given this lightweight background, I found that while Freakonomics was an interesting reading, I really much more preferred The Undercover Economist because of the focus on macroeconomic forces that shape fiscal and government actions. (I'm always interested in social issues.) Also, each chapter of Freakonomics are somewhat independent of each other, jumping from one factoid topic to another with little sense of continuity or build up; this results in the unfortunate effect that the book never goes beyond 'interesting.' The Undercover Economist, on the other hand, has a much more coherent flow that starts off with some easy-to-grasp concepts, but it continues to build upon the ideas evolving from the previous chapters to get into some pretty satisfyingly serious topics. Freakonomics remain rather light, while The Undercover Economist is much more engrossing and remains focused on a set of core principles to explore much deeper into some important social issues.

Tim Hartford also keeps a great online blog with many articles that feel like extensions of The Undercover Economics experience.

Another day, another airport.

My mood on the road can be extremely fickle.

I can be told by the ticketing agent that the flight I fought an hour of bumper-to-bumper traffic to catch is delayed by 2 hours for the stupidest of reasons, and I'll just simply plop down at a bench by the gate and flip open a book while bobbing my head to whatever iPod is shuffling at the moment. I won't bat an eye at yet another hour on top of it, and perhaps even whistle while I make way to the nearest newsstand to flip through magazines.

In other days, I'm in an utterly nasty mood and I snap back with unbridled bitterness at the agent, interrogating him with icy coldness and ultra-business tone to ask for the cause of the delay and what the airline is doing about it... and to top it off, add a little something extra: "last week, the flight's cancelled; this week, it's delayed... what gives?" And this is after I endured through 40 minutes in a long line that snakes through the terminal, watching the dozens of people before me going through the exact same routine. (I'm sure that the agents take the care to give each and every one of us a big mental "F-U" as we walk away impotent with the boarding pass in hand.)

Eva, a nice Filipino lady who works the counter at Solly's just inside Terminal 2, recognizes me the instant I walk up to place my order. She'd crack a small, knowing grin and let out a tiny nod when I blurt out, "a hotdog, please," and when she's handed a naked dog from the kitchen, she'd say, "Chicago style, right?" Her hands move busily through different condiment containers without my having to reply: tomatos, pickle, hot peppers, onions, relish and mustard. Sometimes we exchange a quick banter (our first one was about my strange-sounding request for tomatos in my hotdog -- I had to explain that it's a Chicago-thing), sometimes, lines are busy and she'd hurrily hand me back the packed dog, tightly wrapped in foil, but never forget to quip, "see you next week" with a quick, smiling glance before she moves on to topping the next dinner in line.

Even during the days when I could be the biggest asshole at the ticketing counter, it's the small things like the brief banter with the counter-lady at an airport diner that reins me back in into the real world. I'd mentally feel very apologetic to the agent (my apologies, the lady manning the left-most counter at the United Airlines ticketing counter!), wolf down the hotdog, sit back, flip open my book and plug in the iPod earbuds... ahhhh.

An hour and a half to go. I'm in no hurry.

Back to the Battle at Gettysburg! (I'm reading "The Killer Angels" by Michael Shaara right now... an excellent book.)

Where are the fighter planes?

When I brought up the idea to go see United 93 to my friends, I was surprised by their reaction: nobody wanted watch this movie. It was neither wariness toward possible sensationalism such movies might succumb to (and United 93 is no such movie) nor wanted to avoid recollection of the traumatizing memories of 9/11. Apart from the fact that nobody likes witnessing bad things happen to innocent people, I think that most people simply want to move on from the barrage of 9/11-related media coverage and references. As well intentioned my friends are, they missed the point the movie raises -- it's not about WHY 9/11 happened, but HOW it was (mis)handled by all the infrastructure that we don't normally give much thought to, but take for granted that they're functioning like clockwork behind the scenes. On September 11, as we watched the events unfold on CNN or followed along with the news coverage on websites or radio, there were men and women in various agencies -- ground control, FAA, military, and the government to name a few -- that should have been teaming up to react swiftly and effectively to the situation. The truth, however, as told by United 93, is that their reaction was a tragic series of blunders, demonstration of impotence and bewildering disfunctionality; and even as a small group of passengers on United 93 went through a series of reactions as 9/11 unfolded -- witnessing the terrorists murder their fellow passengers and pilots to take over the plane, realizing that they're sitting helpess in a kamikazi rocket destined to explode into a target, then taking the matters into their own hands -- these government agencies kept squaking like ducks in a box, but their actions were just as ineffective and at times, tragically and infuriatingly comical.

Here's how the agencies handled it:

Ground Control: "Holy shit, I think these planes are hijacked!"
FAA: "I heard 'hijacked,' which planes, which planes?"
Military: "Planes hijacked. Must send fighter planes. Must get clearance."
FAA: "Which plains, which plains?"
Ground Control: "Plane A disappeared! How can this happen?"
FAA: "Where did the planes go? Whoa, there's a big smoke in the North Tower."
Military: "Planes hijacked. Must send fighter planes. Must get clearance."
Ground Control: "Plane B disappeared! How can this happen?"
FAA: " Where did the planes go? Whoa, more smoke from the World Trade Center."
Military: "Planes hijacked. Must send fighter planes. Must get clearance."
Ground Control: "Oh, United 93 is definitely hijacked."
FAA: (light bulb moment) "Let's make a list of all possible hijacked planes!"
Military: "Planes hijacked. Must send fighter planes. Must get clearance."

(United 93 crashes)

At one point, I flung the empty bottle of soda across the rows of empty seats ahead of me (it was Wednesday night on a dinky movie theater in Toronto), letting out a frustrated "F*CK!"; I could no longer contain the rage toward the utter incompetence I was witnessing. As far as the whereabouts of the fighter planes that the military was trying to dispatch to prevent further attacks... well, I won't spoil the experience of hurling something at the screen for you. It's a real doozy.

It's interesting to come back to the point of why people do not want to see this movie... especially so, sitting at an airport terminal typing away this entry. As my colleagues point out, is it because we simply do not want to see a movie about airliner crash? (We all commute to client cities every week.) Perhaps 9/11-fatigue? Or is it because most of us simply do not care why/how things happened as long as it didn't happen to them? Sadly, the cynic in me looks toward that trailing possiblity to be most likely answer.

Online museums

They say that the Internet brings the world to your finger tips (or perhaps nobody said that and I just made it up from different advertisement texts), and although it's not quite the real thing, some websites really do make the experience as close to, or even better than, the actual experience itself.

Museum catalog is one such area where I think that you get almost the same benefit from visiting the website as you would visiting the museum itself. Of course, one can argue that the physical visit the the museum is an integral part of the whole museum experience, but some museums have such an awesome website that it's hard to argue that point convincingly.

Guggenheim's website offers a very impressive catalog, not to mention thorough narration.

British library features a very unique feature that allows you to experience flipping through pages of a selection of some of the most important books of western civilization. (The rest of their online features are also excellent.

I can spend hours just poring through this stuff.

Soccer Commercials

World Cup 2006 is just a bit over a month away, and the excitement is stirring in my blood, coursing through my veins. Most of the matches are aired at really odd times in U.S., but that has never been a deterrent in the past; and this year, hopefully, I'll be somewhere in Germany, Itlay or Spain, watching it in a bar filled with fellow football fanatics!

Here's a fantastic site where you can download a BUNCH of classic football commercials. <link> Freakin' awesome!

Another story from the road

Of all the people that I meet in this project in Toronto, the most intriguing people turn out to be the limo drivers who drive me back to the airport on Thursday afternoons. One might wonder how a person who spends 10+ hours driving on the road in a relatively (seemingly) mindless job can be considered intriguing, but that’s just a snobby or ignorant perspective. I can argue that probably, on the average, those who spend 10+ hours in ‘high-power corporate jobs’ probably are much less bearable conversation partners (let alone respectable and likable) while sharing a half an hour cab ride than your average Joe.

A veteran of Toronto taxi trade of 36 years (April 18 marked his 36 year anniversary, he proudly added), it’s hard to believe that Santos would have driven any faster or shared his story with more animation if he was thirty years younger. Every time he wants to make a point, Santos will turn around (‘shit, look out for the car in front of us, Santos!’) and remark, “LISTEN, I’ve gotta tell you something!” then proceed to state one of his principles. As an elderly man with grand children that are 7 and 5 years old, there’s enough principles to fill a small notebook.

Santos came to Toronto from Portugal (ah, so that’s where the accent comes from) via London 38 years ago, with $12,000 dollars in the bank. How he came to that kind of money (even more back in the days, no doubt) and why he took a job as a waiter in Four Seasons Hotel is beyond me, but he squandered away a good chunk of his money (“don’t even talk about my paychecks – they were out of my hands as soon as they came into my hands!”), living up the life of a waiter. It’s not apparent to the outsiders, but those in the hospitality industry tend to be young and reckless partiers that spend majority of the time outside the job partying, getting drunk, hammered, stoned, screwed, or whatever else vice came easy to young people with money to spend (average tip Santos used to make a night used to be $100 – that’s 36 years ago) and living paycheck to paycheck.

Two years was enough for Santos. He started driving a taxi 36 years ago and never looked back. In the 36 years since then, he somehow managed to get married, buy a house, send both of his daughters through the best schools in Canada, buy each of them a house as wedding gift, and then, still have the money and time to take them on annual family trips abroad. If someone was to tell me this about a limo driver he’s just met on his way to the airport, I’d have told him that I’d believe that cab drivers are helluva liars, but if you’d have spent half an hour with Santos, and felt the pride he has for his children, the passion he has for his principles, love he has for his grandkids, and special bond he’s formed with his regular customers over the years, you’d not doubt my recount of his story.

Santos knows exactly why he’s putting up with crazy hours and the demands of the job – it’s for his children – and it’s around his love for his children (and now, grandchildren) where all of his principles revolve around. He is a particularly harshly strict father – he forbade his eldest daughter (Luisa) from going on a 1 week class trip to Quebec City when she was 16, and even after she locked herself in her room and cried her eyes out for two hours, he didn’t budge – but interesting thing is, he told me that when he asked his daughter if she’d let her own daughter go on such a trip, she said, “no way, not even she cried for TEN hours.” You can tell that being disciplined to your children is NOT a totally bad thing. Another one of Santos’ principle is that he’d never allow his children to get ride from anyone – this meant that he’ll drop them off and pick them up from wherever they needed to go, and for a cab driver, it has a big impact on his business – a sacrifice which he gladly made.

Santos mentioned that he’ll be taking his grandchildren in a tour of Brazil next year (“A beautiful place, I have to tell you. Taking my grandchildren will be one of the most special events in my life.”). For a brief momment, I was lost in the sight, the sound and the smell of what I imagine they would be like in Brazil…

Conversation with Santos made me reflect on my own life (mostly, what lies ahead) and forced me to evaluate how I value certain things has changed over the years – too much corporate kool-aid, perhaps. All the things that I was stressed out about all week (mostly related to job/career/finance/ambition), in light of things, felt petty and immaterial…

Jump Cafe

Team outing (where the boss picks up the tab for the evening) is considered a perk of business travel, and it's about the only opportunity where I get to dine at restaurants way out of personal budget, or go wild on ordering wines listed at the opposite price range of the area where my choices often are restricted to. However, one drawback is that since we go out while we're out of town -- that is, on the weekdays -- the supposed hot spots where I'm told things are smoldering and cookin' on Thursday nights or weekends tend to be rather 'ordinary' when I get to go.

One such places is Jump Cafe.

The food itself is nothing spectacular. The lineup is the usual suspect of 'American bistro' fare -- steaks, common seafood items (salmon steak or tuna filet) and fancy salads -- and while the beer list has some interesting local choices, it's rather ordinary (that is, for Toronto standards, which always include European and Canadian beers that are not so common in American restaurants). In an attempt to try dining healthy, I opted for the seared ahi-tuna, but it came out overcooked (you can tell that they've seared it way too long) and the garnishes were nothing spectacular. With just about any places that serve $10+ entrees offering similiarly prepared tuna dish, I guess I should not have expected much. The desserts, on the other hand, were excellent; I ordered Italian ice and five fresh scoops arrived in a bowl that didn't last two minutes before my spoon was scooping up the last remaining bits off the bottom of the dish.

What was memorable about Jump Cafe, however, was the interesting mix of industrial accents (metal frames for the green-house like effect), modern design on fixtures and decorations (like the oversized free-standing lamps), and deep mahogany shelves and bar -- definitely cool and trendy. I can imagine how this place will be jumpin' with young, beautiful patrons on Thursday nights.

Regardless of the timeliness of my own visits to these supposed hot spots, it's visiting places like this when I make mental notes to return with my friends some day. It's sad that there are myriad places like this filed in my memory of all the different places I've visited over the years on the road that I've yet to return.