Archive: July, 2025

It occurred to me, watching my kid be picky about where a burger comes from, that I have not eaten beef in 20 years. How I got here is strange.

In 2005, which was a crisis year in so many ways for me, I had an annual physical, and not surprisingly, my cholesterol was crazy high. My LDL was something ridiculous, maybe over 200. I was also inactive, which changed when I started coaching high school volleyball. I was eating a lot of beef, mostly fast food burgers. So I just stopped, figuring that was a serious contributing factor. For whatever reason, it stuck.

By the time I got back into a good rhythm of annual physicals, after moving down here, my LDL was still high, in the 130-150 range. It should be below 100. When I started to see my current doctor, emerging from the pandemic, she convinced me to start taking a statin, and it has mostly been below 50 ever since. So I'm good there, even if my triglycerides still are not. But I've never had any desire to start eating red meat again. I'm just not interested, and I've gone this long without it.

Sure, that makes me even more of a picky, high-maintenance eater. And as it turns out, beef is an awfully inefficient way to produce food. It takes four times as much feed per pound of beef compared to chicken, and of course chickens fart methane a lot less methane. Despite the environmental impact, I'm not opposed to beef production, but it's just not a food I need.

If only I could trick my brain into liking more things that are good for me.

I saw an interview with Brad Pitt, talking about how driving the cars in F1 is something that keeps you very present, in the moment, and that he likes that. That's not surprising since, obviously, a mistake might kill you destroy a car that costs many millions of dollars. I suddenly realized what "being present" really means, in a way that I didn't really understand before.

People often talk about presence as the thing that keeps you grounded, in the moment. The idea is that if you can enjoy the very moment that you're in, you'll likely be happier and more content, more of the time. The opposite of presence is getting your head stuck on the future, and maybe the past, and that's a source of anxiety. The present is the only thing that you can influence with immediate results. Since a lot of anxiety is rooted in a future that you may or may not be able to influence, this further push toward the now gives you a sense of control. I see all of this now.

A part of me has often felt that the gurus preaching presence were in some ways advocating neglect toward your future, or reconciling your past. I don't really think that anymore. It isn't a binary choice. Being present doesn't mean that you practice disregard toward the world. It just means that you need to accept that Ferris Bueller's advice about life moving pretty fast is true. John Hughes was a clever filmmaker.

It's easiest for me to think about this in the context of my own life. One way that I often feel present is when playing certain games. I've written about how relaxed I am playing Against the Storm. When I sit down for that, I know that I'm going to be tuned in and hyperfocused for an hour or two. It's almost jarring when I stop. Similarly, when I'm on a cruise, everything around me feels vivid and tactile, I guess because all of the things I would normally worry about in the moment are taken care of for me. Are these examples of escapism? Maybe, but that word implies that you're fleeing something, and that it's bad to do so. You will ultimately have to return to stuff. It doesn't make sense that you should have to make that future stuff your constant concern. You have a finite amount of future, and we're all hurtling toward the end of it. When the moment passes, it's gone. We're running out of moments.

This is one of those little things about maturing that I like. It's earned wisdom. There's a lot of that to gain, especially when you're in a stage of life where it feels like responsibility is slowly crushing you. See a good therapist, y'all. It helps.

If you've been around computers long enough, you probably know the acronym "GIGO," which means, "Garbage in, garbage out." It predates the band. The phenomenon is exactly what it sounds like, that if what you put into a machine is crap, it's only going to give you crap back. All of the software that you hate is therefore composed of refuse.

The stuff loosely termed artificial intelligence is no different in this respect. These large language models are trained on data mostly from the Internet at large, and if you've seen the Internet, you know how much nonsense there is. The models don't necessarily know how to separate a peer-reviewed study paper against a work of comedy, fiction or conspiracy theory. Last week, people quickly turned a chat bot into an antisemitic racist, and that certainly isn't the first time that's happened.

The problem, as I see it, is that the machines can't yet engage in critical thinking. As a concept, critical thinking combines logic, intuition and morality to figure out what is right, real and just, versus what is wrong, fake and injust. I mean, I read an article about how chat bots are shitty therapists that may convince a person to commit suicide. Duh, it's hard enough to find a human therapist that works for you and can help you.

The robots also can't gain experience and wisdom, which are another factor in critical thinking. This is quite environmental, of course, and humans don't necessarily land in the right place in these areas either. But even for something technical like writing code, the machines may create something that technically works, but it doesn't mean that it doesn't have race conditions or memory leaks or structural problems that make it hard to understand. I really get this one, because I've seen enough of Other People's Code to know that most of it isn't very good. I feel like so much of the profession is trying to figure out how to make stuff better.

If you read stuff on the Internet, and especially if you listen to influencers (those on LinkedIn, yes, it's a thing, are the worst), you'd think that AI has replaced all of the jobs. The reality, as best I can tell, is very different. Those prediction have been around now for two years, and it hasn't really happened. In some cases, it seems to be making things worse. A friend of mine that works in HR says that job candidates use AI to game their resumes, and then the AI used to screen resumes chooses them, so almost none of the candidates are what they actually want. One recent study suggests that AI is making it take longer to write code.

Will we get there? It's hard to say. The Skynet problem is certainly something to worry about, sure, but in most science fiction, machines rarely have any sense of morality and are treated like appliances. It seems that we want the machines to have critical thinking, but is that something uniquely human that can't be replicated? Normally I'm one to reject human exceptionalism, given our insanely brief history relative to all of time. But whatever this thing is that we have, when we're not killing each other, is unique and extraordinary.

If only we could be better about training the humans in critical thinking first. If you can't question everything, including your own thoughts, you can't get there. No one ever tells you that in school.

The only remaining useful thing about Facebook, for the most part, is the memory functionality, and it reminds me that I arrived in Orlando 12 years ago yesterday. Crazy. It felt familiar very quickly, I imagine because I was already coming down here two or three times a year for a long time. This is an enormous state, with no shortage of political problems, but because of its size, it also feels regional in nature. I like our region.

My first job was a contract gig at SeaWorld corporate, which lasted a year, and in that time we started to quickly get a feel for our surroundings. The Horizon West area, in the western part of Orange County, is where we settled, across a rental, a house we built, and then another house we built, and we've been in that one for about seven and a half years. Diana's first endeavor was to figure out preschool and support for Simon, and he had his initial ASD and ADHD diagnosis here. Two years in, she started working at the Dr. Phillips Center For The Performing Arts, and that spot has become central to our social and philanthropic identities. We've continued to volunteer at Give Kids The World, though more Simon and Diana than me. I got involved in a local user group, and I've done tech talks every year outside of Covid. With the proximity of Port Canaveral, we got hooked on Disney cruises.

We discovered a vibrant downtown area, a diverse population and so many good people. We've seen the community come together in difficult times, with the Pulse massacre and the George Floyd protests. We've seen it celebrate with the legalization of same-sex marriage. It's a positive place to live. The theme parks don't hurt, but despite them being something to do for a few hours now and then, they do not dominate our time or interests.

When we were in the process of leaving Seattle, I often said that I suspected we were "pool and palm tree people." We never did get the pool, and I'm not planning on it, but we do own a few palm trees. We don't have to endure winter either. I think it was a good decision.

One of the things I dislike from the conventional consultant approach to "Agile" is the anonymous retrospective. It's problematic for a lot of reasons, and I don't do it.

First off, if your team is right-sized, it's unlikely that any retro observation won't be associated with someone on the team. In fact, that's a reason that someone may not feel comfortable bringing it up at all. But if the team doesn't peg the source, then it lacks context. No one likes feedback that isn't associated with a source because it's hard to make it actionable if you don't have the context.

More importantly though, doing this anonymously says that you don't have the culture and environment for psychological safety. Feedback is not, in fact, welcome if you can't safely provide it without fear of retribution. It isn't team work.

I have my team post retro items on a board ahead of time, with their initials. When we reach that part of the routine, we go around the room and have people talk about what they wrote in the usual categories... what went well, what didn't, what we can do differently. This allows for conversation and clarity and gives every member of the team an opportunity to lead a discussion, which I happen to think is important for professional development.

If you do anon retros, try this. I think you'll find the results far more useful.

We somewhat unintentionally have fallen into a biennial tradition of staying at Walt Disney World on-property, despite living so close to it. In April, the resort was advertising discounted rooms for Florida residents, so with nothing else in mind for my birthday weekend, I booked three nights at Coronado Springs. This was our third time staying there, with previous visits to Art of Animation and Yacht Club. Coronado is a good spot because it has a bunch of solid pools, including the one with the pyramid, the Three Bridges restaurant, and two excellent venues in the tower. It's also relatively fast to get to all four parks, and using the transportation system is kind of fun.

I got the text that the room was ready at 2:30 on Thursday, a little later than I would have liked, but they guarantee 3. You can go straight to the room and open the door with any of your magic bands or phone. We were in the Ranchos section, and really most locations are reasonable to get around. With four bus stops, you're always close to one. We headed out to Epcot, to find a strangely not-busy park. Not quite pre-hurricane, but pretty close. I expected it to be busier the day before Independence Day.

With Simon being 15 now, we don't force him to hang out with us constantly. He immediately did his thing, while Diana and I headed to Mexico for a lap on Three Caballeros (because why not) and some chips and guac, plus margarita. We met back up with Simon to do Guardians of The Galaxy as a family, then bounced over to Soarin' for a ride in B2, the optical center of the ride. We walked all of the way to the split, so not a long wait at all. Considering that Test Track hasn't officially reopened, it was crazy how short waits were. Emerging from The Land, the radar was showing an incoming cell, so we made haste to get to Italy for a dinner reservation, while Simon headed off to Hollywood Studios.

I haven't been to Tutto Italia in a very long time, and it's possible that the last time I went was before they changed operators in 2007. I remember it being fairly elevated and delicious. Unfortunately, it's far from that now. The rain started just as we arrived, and the host stand was chaos. I could see two hosts yelling at each other in Italian. Once seated, our waiter brought some bread, including packaged bread sticks, but forgot the olive oil. Diana ordered lasagna, I ordered fettuccini with alfredo sauce. Mine was pretty bad. I don't cook much, but this is one dish I can do and make it great. It's not hard to combine butter, cream, cheese, garlic and a little pepper. It's such a straightforward dish. Well, what I got was bland and seemed like it was potentially from a can. It had no taste at all. No garlic, none of the saltiness you get from parm or asiago (or both). The chicken on top of it, similarly, tasted like nothing. I'm not usually one to send stuff back, but I did here. If you're gonna charge over thirty bucks, it can't suck like that. I got chicken parmesan, which was, at best, adequate. The service was still terrible, with the waiter not really showing up (the manager took care of the bland dish). Overall, yeah, not a fan, even with 20% off as passholders.

The drizzle persisted after dinner, but we really needed to course correct after that dinner. We went over to the patisserie in France, where the friendly folks there provided us some excellent desserts. By the time we got back to the bus stop at the front of the park, we were pretty wet. The dessert box was pretty wet, but the treats were fine. We showered and called it a day.

On actual Independence Day, Friday, I started by talking to the front desk. A towel hook in the bathroom fell of the wall, and our AC seemed to struggle to get to the target temperature. Also, Simon's charging privileges weren't working. They got it all resolved. Simon started at Magic Kingdom, while we went to Disney Springs for lunch. Because I was hangry and not in the mood for adventure, we landed at The Edison, a spot we've been to before. They have pretty great cocktails and food with a great steampunk theme. We sat at the bar, and the place was not busy. Springs overall was not packed. The weather continued to be suboptimal though, and just as we got back to the bus, it started to pour. Simon made his way to Studios again, and would eventually go back to Magic Kingdom to use his comp after getting evac'd on Tiana's.

I took a nap and just relaxed a bit in the room. I felt like I hadn't done that in awhile, and this was after all a vacation. As much as I say we get to play tourist on these trips, we're not rope-dropping or trying to do all of the things. Well, Simon did, as it turned out. He ended up getting a total of 17 rides across the two parks, because it just wasn't very busy. We made plans to spend the evening at Three Bridges, which is in middle of the lake between, as you might guess, three bridges.

Three Bridges is known for their sangria, and they have a daytime sangria university that we've did a few years ago. The food is Latin inspired, I guess, but the entrees are the usual things like a burger, rice bowls and such. It's all very good, and the service is also fantastic. We sat at the bar and watched the end of that day's Wimbledon coverage, which was followed by dog diving, also knowns as dock diving. Completely bizarre, but satisfying. We racked up a pretty good bill on food and drinks, and ended up being there for about five hours. We met some nice people from Wisconsin and made friends with one of the bartenders. We saw fireworks from three directions, sort of, but since we can see that from home, it was not a priority. Overall, great atmosphere, great food.

Simon got back from Magic Kingdom around 10:30, by which time we started watching Hamilton in the room, which is kind of a new thing I guess that people do on July 4.

On Saturday, our first full day, Simon was unbelievably awake early, and went out for pancakes and a doughnut before we were even up. He went back to Magic Kingdom while we took our time. Eventually, we went to the big counter service spot at Coronado. This, along with the sports bar, are operated by a concessionaire, and not Disney directly. That makes it a bit of a wildcard, like the restaurant in Italy. Fortunately, they have some decent food, including Tex-Mex rice bowls, which is what I had. Really well-seasoned chicken, very satisfying.

We caught up with Simon at Magic Kingdom, and it struck me that I can't even tell you the last time I was in that park. I don't care for visiting because it's always the most crowded, and the whole park-then-monorail/ferry-to-the-gate thing is tired. Fortunately, while still busy, it wasn't the worst I've seen. Our agenda was to ride Tron, which I've only been on once, during previews, and Tiana's Bayou Adventure, which I haven't been on since the re-theme.

I was underwhelmed by Tron on my first ride. I do like the way you enter the building and get the reveal as you are "digitized." But it's crazy how sparse the theme is after that. The station is just a big, black painted room with lights around the edges. In any case, Diana and Simon got front row, I was right behind them. It's amazing how people still climb over one bike to get to the other, despite the way there are signs and arrows and seeing the people before you board. Once off, you get right to the launch track. This is the best part of the ride, along with the big outside curve immediately after it. Once you get back into the building and cross through the block, it's just a series of meandering turns mostly in the dark. Being in the motorcycle position also isn't great. Having sat in one of those at IAAPA years ago, I was skeptical that it was a good idea. It's just not a comfortable profile.

Following a lap on the People Mover, which has updated audio since the last time I was on it, we went back to Tiana's. I'm not sure why the re-theme was controversial. Song of The South was problematic, and almost no one knew the IP in the first place. The first thing that looks great is the renovation of the queue. There are a ton of details that expand the story of Tiana, and it's really great stuff. The ride itself has a ton of new animatronic figures, and the lighting and video is subtle and immersive. The cherry on top is the big room at the end. It's really impressive.

The weather was following the same script as the previous days. Seeing the radar, we scored some Dolewhip and headed for the buses. Well, Simon headed to Haunted Mansion. And once again, we barely made it to the bus before the rain. The weather was really a drag, but mercifully, sub-90. There aren't even 90 days forecast for the next week.

We've been meaning to get up to the top of the tower at Coronado since the first time we were there. The Dahlia Lounge is a bar with an outdoor balcony, facing Hollywood Studios. Next to that is Toledo, the resort's premier restaurant. So on our last night, we had to make that happen. We had a 5:30 reservation for dinner, and we went up about 30 minutes prior to check out the bar. Great atmosphere, and they have all of the good stuff. They have warm churros, too, though we didn't have any this time. Toledo has windows facing both sides, and it's a really beautifully decorated space that ties into the motifs of the lobby, 16 floors below. But the star is the food. I had a Rioja-braised chicken dish that blew my mind. It was absolutely perfect. Diana had a filet of beef that she also thought was amazing. Meanwhile, the service was perfect, and just watching the staff move around, it was an incredibly well oiled machine. One of the best meals that I've had not on a cruise ship.

We were pretty spent after the eating and weather dodging, so we retreated to our room after dinner. Simon didn't get in until almost midnight. Overall, it was a really successful trip, and the change in scenery, even though it was so close, really helped me relax and unplug. Since we were already passholders, the biggest expenses were the room and food. We spent a fourth of what we would on a cruise, for an experience that I would estimate as 75% as good, for our tastes, anyway.