Blog

Short blog posts, journal entries, and random thoughts. Topics include a mix of personal and the world at large.

Art for art's sake

Amazon’s The Grand Tour - a car show featuring the intrepid trio of Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond, and James May - released its latest episode a few weeks back. Named Sand Job, the premise is same as ever: take three used cars and drive them over a very long distance. Insert some manufactured shenanigans along the way. It’s been the same recipe since the trio was with BBC’s Top Gear, and yet we still watch every time a new episodes drops.

I tune in because the cinematography remains as beautiful as ever. The Grand Tour’s production value is immense. It’s turned into a sort of Planet Earth documentary, but with cars. Each episode is a showcase of an exotic locale that I would likely never step foot upon. Sand Job takes viewers to the Islamic Republic of Mauritania. A country that I have to admit I cannot pin on a map of Africa before watching. The drone shots of the Sahara desert is spectacular. And not once can you see the drone’s (or helicopter?) casted shadow. The attention to detail is to the maximum.

The car shenanigans is almost secondary to the motion-picture technicality, at least for me. There’s the usual explosions, cars breaking down, a drag race, and pranking James May. It’s all been done before, and I hope the trio continues to do so for at least a few more years. (Looks like this is the second to last episode in the series. Kind of sad!) They are getting up there in age, and none of them seem to care much in the taking care of their body department. What’s with guys getting to middle age and growing a large pot belly? (They are otherwise skinny without it.) A prolonged lack of a clean diet and exercising, surely.

In a world of Youtube car content - of which there is plenty - is there still room for The Grand Tour? I hope so, simply on the count of its splendid cinematography. Art for art’s sake! Let’s see if Amazon is willing to continue subsidizing such a series. Especially after it has reportedly lost a ton of millions on The Lord of the Rings…

Signature required

I recently (finally) pressed purchase on the Fujifilm XT-5 camera. Bought it on Amazon, of course, to get that sweet 5% cash back. (Mind you that is only if you are an Amazon Prime member, along with using the Chase Amazon Prime card.) For such a hefty purchase in terms of value, it’s good to see that a signature is required to accept delivery. No need to fear the delivery person dropping it off nonchalantly in the front yard, exposing thousands of dollars worth of camera gear to potential thieves. That would not be ideal.

Similarly, I helped a friend buy a new camera of his own (A Sony A7 Mark IV) on Amazon. (He did not have Amazon Prime.) Receiving that package also called for an adult signature. No big deal; there’s people home most of the time. However, the Amazon-branded delivery person did not adhere to the requirements! He merely dropped off the camera at the front door as if it were a package of toothpaste. No knock, no door bell ring, no signature attained. That’s not very nice.

I would have been rightly pissed if not for that fact my housemate was home and intercepted the package right when it was dropped off. I’ve higher expectations for an Amazon-branded delivery person to actually follow the instructions. Conversely, the Fujifilm XT-5 was delivered by UPS, and they made sure to get a signature before delivery. I know this, because nobody was home to receive it at the time, so I had to re-route the package to a local pickup spot. By the way, that costs $7.99 now at ups.com. That’s extorting pure profit just because they can, if you ask me.

This reminds me of the time I bought my (many thousands of dollar) Yamaha piano. That was also unceremoniously dropped off with nary a signature required. Granted, if you have the strength to steal a 70 pound box of unwieldy length, carry it through a front garden and over a fence, then I think you have the right to keep it. Thankfully that did not happen, and someone was immediately home at that time as well.

Inflation is too damn high

It’s always funny to me when I see Mac laptops get discounted on Amazon (and whatnot). It’s funny because it’s sad I can never buy those models - they come with too little internal storage. It’s always the base specs that get discounted. 512 GB hard drive is hardly enough for what I’m doing. I custom ordered this MacBook Pro I’m typing on with 2 TB of storage, and it’s already more than half full. Because of this, I’m destined to pay full price for Mac computers forevermore (3% cash back with an Apple Card, though).

Not that I need a new laptop anytime soon. Especially not in this economy. Inflation is still very much a scourge. I recently reordered some skin care products from Amazon, and the prices have increased enough to give me lament. What used to cost in the $10s is now nearly touching $30. In the grand scheme of thing it isn’t too bad because I only buy skin care products once every few months. But man, the seemingly sudden spike in price still stings.

I always say to people that I’m lucky vis a vis inflation because I only have to support myself. A 2X increase the price of milk is not a big deal - there’s a limit to how much I can drink (challenge not accepted). Inflation must be really hurtful for people who have to support families. And it isn’t just groceries bills, is it? Everything have gotten tremendously expensive. Those supporting multiple persons undoubtedly have had to cut back in certain spending categories. Perhaps less restaurant outings (a single fast food meal is over $10 now), or buying more stuff in bulk when it’s on sale.

And they wonder why millennials aren’t quick to marry and have kids. One, everything is expensive. Two, many don’t want to give up the young-person-with-money lifestyle. The tradeoffs that come with settling down with kids is too difficult to confront. What do you mean I can’t travel anymore?

Please sir, no more

I really need to stop buying books. There’s still so many on my shelves currently that I’ve yet to read. Just this week, four more books arrived from the overlords at Amazon. The COVID pandemic may be over, but my personal pandemic of compulsive book buying is here to stay. What I should do is stop listening to podcasts, because that’s where I usually get book recommendations from. The hosts would interview some interesting person releasing a book, and I would immediately go one click purchase (trademark) on Amazon.

No wonder book tours include going on podcasts.

There’s also the problem of running out of shelf space. The two Billy bookcases in my room is full (man have they gotten expensive since I bought them three years ago), and I prefer not to get more shelving. That money would be better used towards buying more books! My solution to this is to slowly donate the books I’ve already read. The rule: any new book I buy, one on the shelf has to go. Fortunately, it’s super easy to donate my used books. Our university library has a book donation drop-off. So I simply have to bring the books with me to work.

I would donate to the San Francisco Public Library - there’s a branch literally down the block from me. Sadly they do not except donations at branch locations. There’s a central spot on the other side of the city that accepts them. My housemate recently hauled a bunch of his old books over there. I on the hand will not be wasting gas for this endeavor. Sorry, SFPL: decrease friction if you want my donations!

There’s nothing better than an early Saturday morning, reading a book in front of my room window (with a requisite cup of coffee, of course). No need for any grand travel adventures; that simplicity is what satisfies me these days.

So long, so slow

Boy, that was a long January. At least it was to me. Yesterday a coworker remarked that January went by in a flash, and I had to politely disagree with him. What was 31 days felt like 60 days. I mean, shouldn’t we prefer that our days go slowly? The whole life is short thing, right? What we don’t want is the sensation that time moved by in a flash. The that felt like it was only yesterday. I guess I’m doing something right: I didn’t speed-run through January.

I got an email yesterday from Amazon notifying me that in 2022, I’ve earn over $300 in cash-back from my Chase Amazon rewards credit card (the card earns a whopping 5% on purchases if you are an Amazon Prime member). That amount easily offsets the annual $139 premium for Prime membership. In fact, $300 would cover the membership fee for this year as well. It’s spending neutral, so to speak, for me to keep Amazon Prime.

My friend did some quick math, and figured out that $300 in 5% of rewards equals to about $6,000 of spending last year. Since I’m notorious for buying lots of books, the friend quipped, “How much are these books that you buy?” Honestly, I was a bit surprised at the $6,000 figure. Granted, about $2,500 of that was spent towards an LG OLED TV and a set of speakers. The rest of the $3,500 is simply the spending of daily life. The books, the supplements, the health products, etc. Since I do get 5% cash-back in return, I try to do as much shopping with Amazon as possible.

Shoutout to the delivery guys and gals.

I certainly don’t plan to buy a TV this year or anything too spendy. I’m at the stage of life where it’s all about buying high-quality things and using them for a very long time. For example, this Herman Miller Aeron chair I’m currently sitting on, I’ve had since my college days. I endeavor to have this sort of longevity with the things I own now, and the stuff I buy moving forwards.

We got the slow shipping

As an avid purveyor of books, I greatly prefer the feel of actual pages than the digital equivalent. Therefore I buy physical copies on Amazon, instead of opting for the Kindle version. The latter is likely kinder to the environment, but the analog texture and smell is worth the sacrifice of a few trees. Besides, I don’t want to give Amazon even more information than I already am: the company is not getting my highlights and reading patterns. It only knows what genre of books I tend to purchase.

In the effort offset some of the environmental impact, I buy used books whenever possible (unless the price difference between new and used is negligible). The downside of this is that shipping takes forever. I am so used to stuff arriving from Amazon in two days (Prime shipping!) that something taking more than two weeks feel downright archaic. Books would show up to my surprise that I had bought it in the first place. Multiple times lately I thought the item for sure got lost in the mail.

It is a busy time for shipping, after all. Everyone is trying to get their holiday shopping in. Amazon managing its own shipping supply chain is a massive advantage over its competition. You’re not handing off a package to Fedex and praying it’s able to keep its delivery timeframe promise. And as a customer, who can you trust but Amazon, when you’ve procrastinated until the last minute to buy presents? It’s far easier to get refunds too should an item arrive late, not that you should abuse this.

What Amazon should offer is the ability to read the Kindle version of a book, until the physical copy I bought actually arrives. That would be so clutch. I’d even buy a Kindle device just for that purpose. Anyone got a line to the current Amazon CEO?

Garbage out

Back when I used to live with my parents, I never understood why so many households on our block would come to dump their garbage in our apartment complex’s large communal bins. What’s so inadequate about their own garbage disposal arrangement? Admittedly it’s easier to simply dump it all into a giant bin, but to willingly take a walk outside of your own home to dump garbage is not something I can comprehend. Why not use your own? You’ve certainly paid for it.

Now that I’ve moved out of the house and into a situation where we have the same three bins - compost, recycle, and garbage - that most households have in San Francisco, I finally understand what’s going on. The reason people dump their garbage in our communal bin is because the standard-issue bins are too small to accommodate the trash output of a typical home. The place where I am renting consist of three persons, including me, and our garbage output easily overwhelms the absolutely tiny 16-gallon black bin. Without alternative disposal methods, there is no way we could fit a week’s worth of trash into it.

Luckily, the blue-colored recycling bin is a decent size, though you’re always one large purchase away from having too much cardboard to throw away in one collection. With the ease of shopping on Amazon these days, which household doesn’t have mountains of shipping boxes to throw away on a weekly basis?

No wonder the communal bin at my parents’ apartment is so damn popular.

The one bin we can’t hope to fill up ever during a regular week is the green compost bin. Being the same size as the recycling bin, a household would have to be consuming an absurd amount of food to have that much food-waste to throw out as compost. I guess the great imbalance between the volume of the general garbage bin and the compost and recycling bins is to create an incentive towards being eco-friendly. It certainly works: very few of us are so fortunate to live close to a communal bin where we can toss out the extra load with impunity.