Ed's Sandbox

2006-01-29T19:04:00.000-08:00

Scripting RAR for Automated Backup

I've directed some effort into finding a reliable but painless way to back-up my more important data in case one of my hard-drives dies, as they occasionally do from time to time (I've actually been very lucky with my drives but I don't want to leave years worth of data to chance)

Since I have two hard-drives in my PC, my ideal solution will simply mirror the data I care about such that it exists on both drives. If either drive fails, the data can be recovered from the other one. Of course this doesn't help if the whole computer goes up in flames, but it covers the most common case.

My first idea was to use ntbackup, which comes with Windows (at least my XP Pro has it.) You can launch it most easily by going to Start->Run->ntbackup.exe It lets you check off the files/directories you desire to be backed up, as well as specifying a location (in my case, on another drive) where the archive will go.

The result of ntbackup is a .bkf file ("Windows Backup File") which appears to be a compressed archive, which opens with ntbackup as well.

This approach works but I didn't like it for a few reasons:

(Seemingly) poor session handling - I want to backup the same paths every time, but while ntbackup appears to let me save the session, the entire contents of the drive appear selected when I load it. Maybe I am missing something - it looks like I have to manually select what I want to back up each time.

ntbackup has "incremental backup" support but in a way that seems better suited for tape backup than for what I am trying to do. Incremental backup is simply an additional backup file meant as a "patch" to the original full backup. The next incremental backup is a patch to the prior incremental backup file, etc. Meaning the backup files are not self-contained and it may require multiple backup files to restore a particular file. This also bloats up the size of the archive, if there's a frequently modified large file in the set (e.g. my Outlook folder). Doing a full backup each time takes too long.

The .bkf format will probably be hard to restore from on a non-windows system, if I should ever need to. Also, it's not clear if I could open it on an earlier or later version of Windows itself.

With all of the above in mind, I set out searching for a better back strategy. My first thought was that I could simply use the Windows shell command xcopy to mirror some folders onto another drive but this presented a few difficulties - mainly the apparent need to copy everything each time (there's some magic for copying based on the archive flag or creation time but it didn't seem very straight forward. Plus, this option lacked compression.

The solution I ended up with is to use rar.exe which comes with WinRar, using command line options to make sure the following happens:

Files which have not changes since the last archival should not be touched in the archive.

Files should be compressed within the archive However, to minimize archival times, files which are already compressed (.RARs, specifically) should be simply stored within the archive.
Files should be tested for integrity as they're added to the archive.

The maximum amount of recovery data should be stored to give me a shot of recovering my files even if some of the archive is corrupt.

Here's the syntax:
"C:\Program Files\WinRAR\rar.exe" u -r -rr10 -t -m3 -msrar "e:\MIRROR of STUFF for BACKUP\DriveDbackup.rar" D:\Documents D:\Pictures D:\Outlook_archive.rar Outlook_main.pst

The 'u' parameter tells RAR to Update files within the archive - i.e. replace modified files with their newest version, and add new files. I believe this option does NOT remove files from the archive if they had been removed from the target. This is not a big deal, but if I decide to rework the file layout of my data, I will probably end up building a new archive from scratch, because if I move 500mb of pictures from D:\Pictures\Misc\Folder001 to D:\Pictures\Vacations\2005\Paris, the Update operation of the archive will end up keeping it in the old location and adding it in the new place. A new archive can be created by simply replacing 'u' with 'a', OR deleting/moving the archive from its location.

The -r option tells RAR to recursively look at the contents of subdirectories of the paths I've specified.

-rr10 makes it store some additional recovery data into the archive.

-t makes it test the integrity of the archive when all is said and done.

-m3 makes it compress at "Normal" level. The -m value could range from 0 (store: fast but no size reduction) to 5 (max: slow but maximum size reduction.)

-msrar tells RAR to ignore the compression level for files with the .rar extension, since these files do not benefit from another compression pass. I decided to allow t to compress other semi-compressed files (e.g. .zip and .jpg) because the could benefit from a RAR pass, and this is a one time expense since these files will not be compressed the next time around unless they had changed. If I wanted to omit .jpg and .zip in addition to .rar, I could have specified -msrar;zip;jpg Of course these files will STILL be stored into the archive.

The next argument is the location and name where my compressed archive will be stored, and all subsequent arguments are names of directories and files which I want to store into the archive.

Results:

It takes a little while to run this the first time. It took about half an hour to compress 6000 files (2.48 gigs) into the RAR file (2.2 gigs). Most of the time was spent compressing JPGs which probably yielded very little real savings in space. Also, quite a bit of my data is already compressed as RAR files so RAR didn't attempt any further compression. It's up to you whether you want to try compressing or using -m0 for store. The savings in space you get depend heavily on the kind of data you're backing up.

The next time you run this command, RAR spends quite a bit of time saying Updating archive e:\MIRROR of STUFF for BACKUP\DriveDbackup.rar while it scans for any differences between what you want to back up and what you already have. If there are absolutely no changes, it will say WARNING: No files and exit.

If there ARE any files that have changed or were added, RAR will say Adding and list the names of the files as it finds them. Afterwards, there's about 5 minutes of testing, as RAR checks not only the files it has changed/added, but the entire archive. If everything went OK, it will print All OK. Done and exit.

2006-01-15T16:48:00.000-08:00

One of the best aspects of living in New York is that I can leave my house on any night of the week, travel a short distance by foot and subway, and go see a rock show. One of the weirdest things about living in New York is that a rock show on a rainy Saturday night can have 2 people in attendance...

Last night I dragged Simona to the Ace of Clubs (nee Acme Underground). As usual, I didn't care who was playing - these clubs have 3-5 acts per night, which is a great opportunity to discover some new bands. And even if some of the bands suck, you don't have to put up with it for very long.

The Mad Owls

These guys (later it turned out they're from Long Island and one of them had played at the Spot) were not kidding when they listed 'Sabbath' as one of their influences. Some of their songs could have been covers! They're very good for a group that was only playing their third show together. They were solid and sounded together. It's too bad there were only 4 people (including us) in the audience at this time. People have to go see these guys.

Free Rain

Eh...

Heather

Aside from thinking they're AC/DC (including a song about balls) these guys sort of rock. People filled into the club around the time they went on which added to the energy of the show. Check out the video on their site.

2005-07-23T20:35:00.000-07:00

Re-Review and more Review

I'm thinking it was a really good idea to block out the name on the negative review in my last post, because clearly musicians do look themselves up. Just saw a few dozen hits from these two sites because Loki the Grump stumbled upon the good things I said about them. I don't even know how they found these, as google and yahoo don't show it. Glad to have made their day, though. Can I have a free t-shirt or something?

Anyhow, last night I went out with a girl I haven't seen since high school. I took her to The Living Room, my usual hangout - I have got to be among their top customers. We saw two acts, both pretty good:

Megan Fogarty - This woman has a beautiful voice. Her songs are reminiscent of some classics - the Beatles, Eagles, that type of thing. When we walked in, her husband was accompanying her on the piano. Later, he sat in the audience as she sang some songs about loves lost and I couldn't help but imagine resentment in his eyes. Was she really lamenting someone she was with before she met him? Ouch!

Atoosa - It wasn't bad but I didn't care much about her singing. The band, on the other hand, was spectacular. I can't find any mention of their names on the website, unfortunately. Half the songs had a really trippy sound. Think of the intro to Riders of the Storm, that kind of sound, though somewhat overwhelmed by her singing.

Atoosa is the lead singer's name. I never understood why bands go along with one member's name being the name of the band. The guitarist and the drummer were just awesome, and I enjoyed their work a lot. Why don't I get to know their names? At least she didn't send them off the stage so she could do a few solo songs. I've seen some singers do that.

Does anyone know why people put up with this? Don't all band members contribute to the artistic output? Reminds me of The Rock Show.

2005-07-17T07:59:00.000-07:00

Ed's First Tongue-in-Cheek Music Review

Going to underground rock shows is one of my favorite New York things to do, so naturally I should be writing a sort of underground rock scene review. Unfortunately, the sad truth is, most of these shows, most of these bands, and most of these venues, suck. Even the venerable CBGB, still one of my favorite places in the world, has been home to such acts of horror and accoustic degeneration that I can't help but not care about its alleged, impending, permament shutdown. Maybe BRC Homeless Outreach (CBGB's much maligned landlord) can use the space to showcase some of the homeless tallent. I swear I got more enjoyment out of a homeless acapella on Bowery than I can remember from one of these well-off suburban kids "rocking out" on their paren's blessing and dollar.

Remember when being a musician meant something? I am 24 and even I remember, so why doesn't anybody else? Look, there are two ways to be a musician:

1. You can practice and be really good. Mozart is an example of this. Pink Floyd are an example of this.

2. You can be full of unquantifiable rocker badboy machismo. AC/DC is a prime example. Can't play, can't sing, but they rock! Just a bunch of australian drunkards on a kick to have a good time and lay groupies and make money. We dig that, we embrace it for what it is.

Unfortunately, much of what I've seen in New York falls into neither of these categories. Don't get me wrong, I've seen some really good underground shows (I'll try to pick my brain later and name some names) - but those are rare, valued exceptions.

Now, a good share of my friends are reading this and cringing. "Please don't talk about Jared" and "we're sick of your rants about Jared" and "give it a rest already, you're obsessed with Jared"... Hey guess what folks, I am going to talk about Jared.

Editor's note: I am not a dick. I mean, I am, but I decided not to be. So I edited this post and obscured the proper spelling of Jared's last name so it doesn't show up on Google. He's probably not a horrible person, and he probably doesn't deserve to read this review. Really, I don't know the guy and my only right to critique him is the 8 bucks I spent on the tickt. Which, if you think about it, is more justification to critique somebody than other people need...

Jared Sxxchxxarffxx
Where Spotted: The Knitting Factory.
When: July 01, 2005.
Executive Overview: Sucks balls.

I wasn't going to write this. I wasn't going to use his name so it comes up in a Google search. There are lots of other bad musicians. And yet, I am writing! Not only does Jared have a horrible singing voice and way too much ego, he's a pussy and unable to confront criticism like a man. Seeing that none of his "friends" had the guts to give him honest feedback on his performance, I went out of my way to privately give Jared some career guidance. Apparently, he did not take it well, as his response was a giant, literal "fuck you, how dare you criticize me, waaaaah" rant. For some reason, he posted the said rant on a website I don't read, and if it wasn't for the deep penetration of my spies into the world of underground shit-rock, I wouldn't have found out. But, I did find out, and I don't think that was a particularly mature way of handling it. That's not how Bon Scott would have handled it. Of course Bonn Scott choked on his own vomit and died, which is cooler than anything Jared will ever ever do.

And by the way, Jared Sxxchxxarffxx isn't exactly a name that screams "ROCK AND ROLL!" It's the kind of name that'd look right with a "DDS" after it. You've never heard of rock legends with names like Chaim Witz and Robert A. Zimmerman, have you?

Anyway, on with the unbiased review.

I chanced to see Jared because a friend was going to see the show, and since I trust the said friend's taste in music, I went along. Not that she had ever heard him perform before. Lesson for the future: your friend's taste doesn't matter if she hasn't heard the act. Anyway... We arrived at the Knitting Factory where Jared was slated to perform. If you've ever been to the Knitting Factory, you'd know it works like this:

Lowest Floor: usually kids in black t-shirts bouncing off the walls, although I have once heard an inspired (though not particularly good) jazz quartet there.

Middle Floor: the tap room. Home of the accoustic acts and experimental stuff. This is usually where the good music is.

Top Floor: the guru-dude selling the tickets once described the style of the top floor as "corporate." We laughed at the time, expecting suits and meetings, Blackberrys going off and such. What the dude meant is that the bands playing the top floor were generally sufficiently bland and uninspiring to potentially be radio-friendly.

I crossed my fingers and prayed that the Jared we came to see was playing the tap room. I just had a wondeful dinner with a friend I haven't seen with forever and I was really in the mood to sit down with a glass of merlot and absorb some good vibes. No such luck: Jared's playing the top floor. The "corporate" area.

When life gives you lemmons, make lemonade. That's what Carnegie said, and I believe it. Corporate can still be good. 3 Doors Down don't trip me out but I acknowledge some form of intensity in their performance. So it still could have been good.

It was not good.

The second sign of trouble was that Jared's mom, dad, grandpa, great-grandma, infant cousin, childhood nanny, current nanny, and therapist, were all there, snapping pictures and being generally proud of their little Jerele...

...in all the self-importance and douchebaggery, people forget that music is supposed to be art, and art is supposed to be inspired. Good Rock and Roll always has to do with either working class misery (a la Springstein), bohemian detachment (Floyd, Doors), or all out partying, snorting coke and banging groupies (anything from the 80s). There's no provision in Rock and Roll greatness for bringing the whole mischpuha to the show like you are graduating from dentistry school. In Jared's case, living at home and having everything paid for by your parents means you need buy-in from them for the "music" you are doing, hence the rock show/family picnic. Doesn't do much for your artistic integrity.

Strike one.

This is my favorite picture from Jared's website. It shows the darkness which permiates one's soul while listening to Jared's pathetic wailings.

I don't particularly remember what any of Jared's songs were about, but I recall wondering what is it about his act that had 3 decent-looking cuties thrashing about near the stage. Were they really relating to his message? "Oh my god, spoiled rich white kids? ME TOO! Jared totally speaks to my socioeconomic reality!" The singing was horrendous, as evident from the cringe on the face of everyone except the 3 aforementioned groupies and the aforementioned relatives. My other friend at the show unironically complained "I forgot my earplugs. I usually bring them." Being bored and not into the music, I wandered about and chatted with a few people. "How are you liking the show?" I inquired. Most shrugged and politely complained about the singing. "So why are you here?" I followed up, and inevitably the responce was "because we're friends of Jared." I asked whether anyone had ever given him their opinion of his singing, and no one has...

... I really hope I don't have friends like that. Your best friends will tell you when your fly is down, when your girlfriend is cheating on you, when you're on the wrong path in life. I would hate if my friends were too afraid or simply didn't care enough to tell me the truth. Why isn't everyone like that? Do you really think you're beyond constructive criticism? Sheeeeesh! This is why I went out of my way to tell Jared the truth. Not to be offensive, not to make him feel bad, but because EVERYONE saw the truth and NO ONE bothered to intervene.

No mediocre performance is complete without well-rehearsed antics of stage anarchy. In Jared's case, climbing on top of the bass drum and jumping off of it in feigned rock extasy was performed at the end of each song. I've seen shitty bands do this move before, and finally Jim (of High Speed Chase) helped me track it back to its origins with Pete Townsend. You see, it was cool when Pete did it, because The Who was an innovative band that was doing new stuff. You're copying their move just like you've copied your style from every poppy "rock" band you hear on the radio. Cool can't be attained by copying. I have some G-Unit clothes but I don't fancy myself a gangster!

Anyway, that's just about enough about Jared. He's actually a very good guitarist, it's too bad the singing and the ego completely obscure his undeniable playing talent. That's what I told him: "focus on what you're good at, even if it doesn't stroke your ego like being a frontman does. Wouldn't you rather be a great guitarist and not a complete fucking failure?" His response: "fuck you." Maybe he ment "fuck you" like Ozzy Osbourne would say it, and not like a little girl would say it before breaking out into the tears, though the fact that he said it on his myspace blog and not to my face makes me think it's the later.

Good Stuff

I promised to mention some good acts I've heard around the city. Here's a very small list:

Thomas Truax - The Hornicator. This guy makes his own instruments out of crap he finds god knows where, and makes good, meaninful music with them. Saw him at the Tap Room at the Knitting Factory. Experimental music in the truest sense.

Detox Darlings - Thrashy rock/glam with genuine attitude. Seen at CBGB. I went with 4 or 5 Indian guys who had never been to a real new york music event. They were suitably impressed.

Loki the Grump - I don't even know if this is properly called punk. It's too solid musically to be punk. It has got to be one of the best shows I've ever seen at Acme Underground. They're not the sexiest people to look at, but their music skills are on the par and they are grumpy for real.

The King of France - I saw them at the Living Room with Andre, who was more interested in going to the bar out front to find a lay. These guys are very solidly together. They label their own genre as "melodic." The songs are filled with self-depricating humor.

The Mugs - I am not sure how to characterize their style. Luckily the website has music for you to download and see for yourself. It's rare for a band to captivate me and makes me momentarily forget my surroundings. That's a religious experience, you know. Saw them at Scenic with the same girls that I saw Jared with. Actually we were there to see someone else, I don't remember his name and it's probably for the better. Not sure if The Mugs were the main act of the night, but they were spectacular.

Troop 47 - I saw these guys at the Villiage Pub in port Jefferson. Usually I don't remember bands I saw years ago but I happened to have grabbed their CD, which serves as a pleasant reminder. I'd classify their style as soft, meaningful rock.

Speaking of Long Island bands, when and why did Mother Freedom break up? Saw these wonderful funky groovy guys a few times on campus, both at The Spot and outdoors. Anyone have any of their music? Let me know!

Katy Pfaffl - Saw her at the Living Room sometime ago. Her website describes her genre as "Soul-Folk," and I am ok with that.

High Speed Chase - mentioned them earlier on. These guys rock but tend to play in Hoboken, and I tend to not go there.

There are obviously dozens of other good musicians/bands which I would love to mention here, but all I've got is hazy recollections of what they looked and sounded like. Anyone know that funky older band where the guy wore a turkish flag and baseballs in pantyhouse? They played at The Living Room and one of their songs is called Teens. What's their name? Anyone? Let me know!

2005-07-15T11:44:00.000-07:00

Ed's Completely Practical Guide Understanding France

Everyone asks, was France really difference? Is Paris not just New York with the Eiffel Tower instead of the Empire State building?

These are not dumb questions in this day and age. Globalization of the economy and culture makes every place that much more similar to every other place. That being said, I was pleasantly surprised by the way I felt in Paris. I actually felt like I was somewhere different. I had a completely fresh view. Granted, my state of mind may have had something to do with not having worry about bugs and deadlines and doing the build for a whole week. To have literally nothing to do except decide whether I wanted to stroll along the Seine, or sit in Champs De Mars can do wonders to one's mental balance.

In fact, I was more peaceful and content in Paris than I remember being for a long time. In Amsterdam we were just crazy, running around in circles with addicts and whores and tourists, and in Mexico we laid on the beach all day with Pina Colatas, surrounded by topless women of various age and degree of attractiveness. Not that I minded any of that, but there was something about strolling around and noticing all the details of Paris, about riding the metro, about passing out in the backyard of the great sculptor Rodin, that made this a truly life changing type of trip.

I know, I know, You want to hear about Paris. You don’t really care about my 7 day trance or about my fresh new perspective on life, which has faded in the 3 weeks since I’ve been back. Ok!

There are a few key things to understand in Paris, after which everything else just comes together on its own. They are: transportation, food, and (related) customer service. Actually these are just random 3 things I am going to write about before I get completely bored and start playing Snood.

Getting Around
Paris is tiny. I think it's possible to walk the circumference of the city and call it a nice day's walk. No matter how far from the center your hotel looks on the map (as long as it's in one of the arrondissements) you're no more than a half-hour (maybe 45 minutes if you're slow) walk from the Eiffel Tower, Arc De Triumph, Champs-Élysées, etc.

Unfortunately, nobody except me walks around like that. Luckily for you, Paris has a very good public transport system, which consists of the Metro, Buses, and PER trains. There's also some tourist boat thing called the Bat-o-bus but I've never seen it.

I never took the bus, and all I know about the bus is it takes metro tickets.

Riding the metro is a quintessential Parisian experience, and even if you can somehow avoid it, you shouldn't. It's not always pleasant or comfortable, but one thing is for sure: it's different from riding the NYC subways.

You will find websites saying that Paris has 14 metro lines. This is a lie, as there are many more. Some of them just happen to overlap in the center of the city and therefore share the line number. If you've ever taken the A train to Queens, you'd know there's A to Leffers Blvd and there's A to Far Rockaway***. Similarly, in Paris, it's usually not enough to know that you need the 13 line, you need to decide if it's the 13 to Gabriel Peri - Asnieres - Gennevilliers, the 13 to Saint Denis - Basilique, or the 13 to Chatillon Montrouge.

*** I always wondered where they got the idiotic idea of using the same designation for trains going to completely different places. Apparently, from the Paris metro! It's particularly idiotic in case of the A train because out of towners take it to JFK. Is it really fair to force foreign, confused, unfomfortable people to figure out if they ned the A train or the other A train to get to their flight? Why is this needed?

Before you get on the paris Metro, one of the following must happen:

You have purchased a ticket or a weekly/monthly pass, and passed it through the turnstile machine

You have jumped the turnstile

You pressed behind someone you know and walked throug the turnstile on their ticket

You pressed behind someone you DON'T know and walked through the turnstile on their ticket

While most riders do have tickets, I've witnessed the other 3 situations numerously. This happens right in front of other riders and Metro employees. No one says or does anything because the French don't give a crap about what other people do... or to put it the way the guidebook did... they are very dignified introspective people.

Even as a tourist without any French besides Je ne comprends pas to explain myself in case of apprehension, I felt comfortable jumping the turnstilele. Yes, I had to jump a Paris Metro turnstile, because my Carte Orange was not working and the gent manning the Metro station was too dignified and introspective to give a shit about it. No trip to Paris is complete if you haven't hopped over the turnstile. You simply must do it.

While the above example might make you think the Metro is a place of anarchy, there are actually quite a few unspoken rules that govern your behavior there.

Like most things truly French, the Metro etiquette is subtle enough to get completely overlooked by a tourist who does not suspect its existance. The signs prohibiting the use of strap-ons in times of affluence may seem humorous but not following these directions is a grande faux pas, which will get you annoyed stares (normally, it's considered rude to look at fellow riders) These funky signs actually state that the folding seats near the train car doors (strapontis) are only to be used when the train is not crowded. I figured that judging a car to be sufficiently empty for the use of strapontis is a skill that one picks up by being Parisian for years, so I took it safe and avoided using these seats unless someone else was using one.

You're supposed to be quiet on the train. If you're riding with a pal, the polite thing to do is to hold your conversation until you're out of the metro. Really! Of course, as in New York, there are people (usually teens, minorities, or drunks) who ignore this little rule. In their absence, one can really marvel how long the train car stays silent in the void of conversation.

Then, there's sort of random shit that happens:

One particularly unpleasant episode stands out from the 13 Chatillon-Montrouge train. I was sitting in the strapontis. Across the aisle sat a rather dignified young Parisienne, doing the eyes-down-and-silent thing that so becomes a civilized transit rider. Obviously a very nice girl. At Saint Lazare, a garish Algerian duo boarded the train. One dashed for a seat inside, while the other hung on to the pole near the doors. The stander clearly had good taste in women, for our dignified Parisienne caught his attention. For the rest of his ride to La Fourche, he stared down at with this a look of completely insane adoration. Not sure how much it bothered her as she showed zero emotion, but had this been in New York, she would have been quite creeped out. When the train arrived at La Fourche, the Algerian shouted to his friend that they had to disembark. Then he looked down at the girl and... slapped her face!! Et vous, beau?*** .. slap again .. Voulez-vous obtenir d'ici aussi?*

***That's probably not what he said. That's what I understood him to say, and then I had freetranslation.com put it back into French for effect.

The girl's facial expression did not change. They left, and she got off the train at Bronchant, the same stop as I. She did not seem traumatized or even slightly bothered by being slapped on the train by a swarthy stranger. She may have been stone-faced by nature, or maybe such things happen often enough in Paris that women don't get bothered by it anymore than women in New York get bothered by being "hollered" at. If this had been New York, the girl would have screamed, the other passengers would have held the guy until the police arrived to arrest him for assault. And yet in Paris, no one batted an eye. This was one of the few things that I saw in Paris that made me think "I rather prefer the American attitude on this"

Sigh, anyway. Besides the metro, there are PER trains, which go to the suburbs, but can be taken within city limits for the same fare as the Metro.

Think of PER as suburban commuter trains as the LIRR or Metro North of Paris. Imagine having to go to Jamaica, Queens from Midtown and taking the LIRR from Penn Station instead of the E train, for the same fare. That's what PER is like. While the Metro lines are numbered, the PER trains are identified by letters. Just like the Metro, the fact that a train has the right letter doesn't mean it will take you where you need to go. To make it a little easier to remember, trains have cute 4 letter names written in lights on their fronts. The names are associated with whether the train is local or express and where it goes. For example the C local to Argenteuil may be called NORA, while the express to the same destination may be called VICK. Etc.

I found the PER a little more pleasant than the metro, mainly because it was less crowded and the stop was as close as the Porte De Clichy stop on the 13 line. Once, a colorful group of teenagers, rolling their nuts off on Ecstasy or god knows what else, boarded my car. Many people made a dash for the other level (PER trains are double-decker) The kids were somewhat amusing as they blew whistles every time the train stopped (they were probably nostalgic for the old railroad days... what's French for All Aboard?). I didn't mind them, but I thought that they stood out much more in this land of culture of form, than they would have in the States.

Anyway, the transport in Paris is quite intuitive, but it shuts down at about 12:30 and doesn't start again 'till 5:30 am. The taxis are more difficult to grab than they are in New York, and if you call a taxi from the hotel, the bastards turn on the meter when you call, not when you get picked up. So you may owe 5-10 euro before you ever get in.

Eating
Food in Paris is nothing short of spectacular, but you must approach your dining experience with an open mind and embrace it for being different. There are two key elements involved in understanding the dining experience:

It will take a long time, and you will not be served very well.

You cannot "have it your way"

Part of the beauty of Paris is its lack of the "time is money" attitude. Nobody hurries. No one is pushing the limits of their sanity in the name of customer service. If you were a waiter, you'd appreciate not having to dance circles around the customers. As the customer, you are just used to not being served with the greatest of care. Francophiles get defensive about this point, as if it puts France down. It doesn't, but you must agree that it's different from the Customer is King mentality we have here.

Since time is not money, you will probably not get waited on immediately. In fact you will wait. You will wait for the menu to arrive. You will wait for the order to get taken. You will wait and wait and wait for the food to get delivered. I once spent about an hour and a half waiting for a salad. The waitress that took the order went off duty sometime after, and it wasn't until the next waiter started that my food arrived. You're supposed to sit and smoke your cigarette and enjoy the view and conversation with your friends. The food will come when it will come.

And oh yes, everyone smokes. They smoke in the airport, they smoke in the train stations and sometimes on the train. They smoke in the restaurants and cafés. They smoke when they're sitting in the park with their infants. If you simply can't tolerate smoke, even in the name of cultural exploration, then Paris is simply not for you.

Anyway, back to the dining. In America we're used to the word restaurant refering to any place that will give you something to eat. Burger King is a restaurant. In France, a restaurant is a place where you must eat a 3 course meal, which can be either lunch (from noon to 2:30 or so) or dinner (from 5:30 to 7:30 or so). You cannot go into a restaurant at any other time. It will be closed. You also cannot go into a restaurant and have something small. You can go to cafés and bistros and brasseries, and salon de thes at those times to have a sandwich or salad to hold you over. You can only enter a proper restaurant at the proper time of the day to have a proper meal.

There's no need to tip in Paris, but you can if the service was good. Any service which didn't seem to you completely horrendous by American standards, is worthy of a tip. How much, is up to you. But you're not obligated.

Customer Service
As hinted by the previous discussion, this section should really be left, meaningfully, blank. The French are not on the "tip" system, so the serveur or whoever you're interacting with has zero reason to serve you well or even give a shit about your existance. This is wonderful for those in the service industry: why should you have to pretend to care when you don't care? But being on the customer side after living in the US for 12 years, it's a bit shocking.

I already told you that I had to jump a turnstile because the Metro attendant wasn't interested in my Cart Orange not being accepted by the turnstile. I also mentioned waiting more than an hour and a half for salad. So I'll finish off this post with two more rather ridiculous but typical examples:

One night we climbed up to Montmartre, and while there descided to pick up some art prints. The store had sign advertising 1 print for (I am making up the numbers) 1 Euro, and 5 prints for 4 Euro. Anyone can do the math and realize that when you buy 5 prints, you pay less per-print than when you're buying 1 to 4 prints. Makes perfect sense: they want to encourage you to spend more money and buy more stuff. Now, someone living in a customer-oriented society would expect to pay less per print if buying 10. After all, if I get a deal for buying 5, shouldn't I get a better deal for buying 10? Ok, so maybe that's a somewhat shaky assumption, maybe the price per unit will remain constant after you buy 5. But, what if you want to buy 11? Will he charge 4 Euro for the first 5, 4 euro for the second 5, and a whole euro for the 11th print? Yes! He will! He will not listen to your very reasonable objection that it doesn't make sense to pay a higher rate per unit when buying 11 than when buying 5, but he will simply shrug. That's just how it is. It's Paris, you can't have it your way.

I think this is how the French got a reputation for being rude. They're not, they're just completely indifferent to going out of their way to accomodate you on things which, due to being American, you except to be accomodated on.

Here's another one. We went on the bus/Seine/Eiffel Tower/bus tour. After getting off the boat, we were instructed to be back at the bus at 5:30. The line for the tower lift was so long that at 5:30, the group was only getting into it and going up. The tour gide was right there and knew what time we went up. We spent maybe 5 minutes up there and came down. The bus was, of course, gone. In the US, the tour company would not leave the entire group behind just because the schedule says 5:30. But in Paris, it's simply not the bus driver's problem that some other events (i.e. long lines at the lift) made you miss your time. His job is to drive off at 5:30 and that's what he did.

Personally I found all this hillarious, but lots of people were steamed.

Anyway, I hope this gives you a little bit of insight into the Parisian mind. Really, it's somewhat surprising that in this day and age, people can have such different notions of value of time, proper behavior, and level of service. But it's good. If the world was the same all over, why would you travel?

2005-07-14T22:26:00.000-07:00

Ed's Completely Practical Guide to Keeping Your Ass out of Trouble

Every day, police intervention fucks up hundreds of lives. Routine stops becomes searches, and searches become arrests. This should hardly ever happen to you, and if it does happen, it's your own damn fault.

Not that I've ever been what you'd call a criminal, but I had enough friends who were what you'd call criminals that I've frequently been in situations (on my own and with others) where the way things went with a cop could have had rather unpleasant consequences on the remainder of our lives. Instead of reminiscing about semi-wild college days, this post could have been about youthful indiscretion fucking me up for good. Luckily, it's the former, so heed my warning. A few simple guidelines for interacting with officers of the law is all you need to keep your ass reasonably out of trouble.

People tend to think of cops as faceless, interchangeable machines in the inhumane apparatus of the Justice System. This is the gravest mistake, for the officer you're interacting with at the moment has full digression on whether to send you on your way with a stern look, a traffic ticket, or to search your vehicle in hopes of sending your ass to jail. Ideally you want the first one, and to avoid the third one at all costs. The middle option sucks but it beats the shit out of the third one.

Let me preface with this: there's one factor which is outside of your control, and that is race. Simply being clean and white can get you a long way in avoiding many of these situations. In my experience, cops aren't racist, but they are prejudiced by years of having to deal with people. They tend to know who causes them the most trouble. If you happen to look like someone whom the cops may perceive as trouble, you must work extra hard to have them change their opinion of you. Yes, it's not fair, but it can make all the difference in YOUR experience with them on that day.

As mentioned earlier, cops are human beings. They usually have feelings, egos, and pride. They also don't want to get killed, especially if they have a wife and kids (as they always seem to.) So the first order of business for you is to make sure the cop doesn't think you're going to pop a proverbial cap in his proverbial ass.

It's not unreasonable to assume that all cops are trained in ascertaining how dangerous a traffic stop might be for them. When the cop is approaching your car, you can bet he's not thinking about the ballgame tonight. He's using all of his senses to decide whether you're going to shoot him and drive off, leaving him to die (or at least bleed unpleasantly) on this god-forsaken highway shoulder at 5:30 in the morning.

Imagine you're in his shoes. You're walking towards a car. The windows are tinted so you can't see what's going on in there. You're not even sure how many people are inside. The engine is running and the stereo is blasting some rap lyric which has to do with shooting cops. This probably has influence on how you're going to deal with the occupants.

Now imagine you're checking out the same car for signs of danger, but the engine is off, the driver has turned on his hazard blinker, turned off the stereo, put out his cigarette, rolled down the window, and his hands are clearly resting on top of the steering wheel, while the passenger's hands are in plain view on top of the dashboard. Won't you feel better? Won't it just tickle you to know these people are obviously not intending to kill you?

You want the cop to greet you with "Good morning, sir!" If you're greeted with "put your fucking hands where I can see them!" you're already off to a bad start.

Remember being a kid and thinking cops were your friends and out to protect you? Well, some people still think that way, and cops enjoy that. In fact, some may have really signed up for the job in order to serve and protect the public (ok, I am getting a little idealistic here), and they probably enjoy dealing with people who perceive them this way, rather than with people who perceive them as a natural enemy. Hence, "Good morning, officer" is a preferred greeting to "the fuck you want, pig?" or similar.

Why does this matter? Imagine a soccer mom pulled over because her tail light is out. She's crying and pleading with the cop because she's afraid of getting a ticket. You know what's the worst thing that's going to happen to her is? She's going to get a ticket. But if the driver is instead hostile because he's convinced the cops are out to get him and search his car, that's likely to be exactly the case.

What's the difference? People really project their fears. The fact that the woman appears worried about a ticket, suggests to the cop-mind that this is the level to deal with her. If the person is being more hostile, the cop's suspicion level will rise, too. Nobody ever got their vehicle searched without sending the cop some signal that this is needed. Again, race is an important factor, but since you can't control that, forget it and do your best to keep the cop from thinking you're the enemy.

Basically, there's two levels on which you need to deal with the cop. First, you do not want to arouse suspicion by being rude and hostile. If you don't make the cop want to find something on you, he won't try. But sometimes it's obvious as is that you're not exactly 100% legal.

Luckily the cop has de facto discretion as to how to proceed. You may be obviously in violation of the law (maybe you have beer in the car and the license says you're 19, maybe he smells something on you), but the cop comprehends that by acting on this knowledge, he can very much ruin your day (and then some.) Now, you have to remember that the cop is human and that he probably had some beer before he was 21, and maybe he even smoked some weed or maybe still does. He doesn't necessarily want to fuck up your life, but it's up to you to make him want to go easy on you. If you're polite and clearly not a menace to him or society, he may overlook your transgression altogether. If you're rude and hostile, he may do the opposite - use whatever knowledge or suspicion he has about you to dig deeper and fuck you over even more.

So I say, be nice. Don't freak the cop out. Make him feel like you appreciate the (dangerous and underpaid) job which he does. Make him feel that you're a good guy, despite whatever it is that caused him to stand in front of you here. This can't make it any worse for you even if the cop decides to be a dick. But in my experience, they always did the decent thing when treated decently themselves.

PS

What I said about cops applies to everyone else. Whenever you interact with someone in their job, treat them with the dignity you afford another human being, instead of seeing them as inhuman cogs in the whatever departments/agency/corporation they're a representative of. People will usually pick being nice to a friendly stranger over screwing that stranger because it is, technically, their job to do so.

And it always helps to be white.