Our Hawaaiiaana Vacation

Le mieux est l'ennemi du bien.  That could be the motto for the blog's current lapsed state.  Well here's one where the photos speak for themselves, and are captioned to boot.  Oh, and there's a soundtrack.  So, without further ado, our trip to Kaua'i, in pictures.



Seems like a lifetime ago already.

Day 2000...or so

 You may recall our wedding counter:  a gift from Jay, it started counting, day by day, at 5 PM CET, oh, about 2000 days ago, and is guaranteed to run as long as we do.  (Back of same shown above, for reasons that will soon become apparent.)  You may also recall that on previous big round number days we have seized the chance to throw a party.  This time, 2000 that is, we chose instead to commemorate the day by going to a photo studio for a family portrait.

Oh the preparations.  Got sick last week, we all did, and I've been limiting my intake of palliatives on the theory that the worse I felt the sooner it would be over.  Then yesterday, still fighting the cold bare-handed, a rainy gray day out, I took the boy to get his haircut, a 15 minute walk each way, loaded with foul weather gear that, I suppose happily, wasn't needed.  Did get a shot of the ultimate sumo battle--

--at the studio, and the haircut turned out pretty nicely, too, but it was a drag.  The last several days on hyper-alert to ensure the newly-crawling GM didn't bruise his head against something, dog or otherwise, were especially wearing as well.  And all this so we'd be in the studio right when our counter showed the magic 2-0-0-0, rather than, say, after we get back from Hawaii, tan and presumably cheerful, @ day 2020.

Then this morning.  What to wear, rush to prepare, the baby thankfully napping on time but Felix at his most cheerful and obstructive self.  Finally, elder son gives us a break, disappears into the living room and falls silent.  Silent.  Never good.  This time very bad.

Our counter
Placed next to the door so we wouldn't forget it on our way to the studio
Our counter, reading 2000, ready to go
Our counter now reads zero zero zero zero

We got to the studio, we did the shoot, we'll Photoshop in the correct digits.  We've already figured out how to make the counter climb, too, though we don't know the correct dip switch setting to make it a day counter again, rather than a simple timer, which is what it is currently pretending to be.  And we still don't know how Felix zero'd it, though we're pretty sure he won't do it again.  Ever.

I can't say this has been the worst day of our marriage, but at the moment I can't think of a worse one, either.  Here, though, is the one authentic day 2000 shot we got, and kudos to T for insisting we do it while we had the chance.

 Counted or not, tomorrow's another day with the woman I love.

What I do now

I mentioned recently that, having publicly trashed my previous career, I'd be posting soon about what I do do for work.  The short answer is:  I take care of our second-born.  It is the hardest work I have ever done, I don't get sick days, and no, I'm not made of castiron [sic]:

"What has happened?" the Scarecrow asked a sad-looking man with a bushy beard, who wore an apron and was wheeling a baby-carriage along the sidewalk.

"Why, we've had a revolution, your Majesty -- as you ought to know very well," replied the man; "and since you went away the women have been running things to suit themselves. I'm glad you have decided to come back and restore order, for doing housework and minding the children is wearing out the strength of every man in the Emerald City."

"Hm!" said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully. "If it is such hard work as you say, how did the women manage it so easily?"

"I really do not know" replied the man, with a deep sigh. "Perhaps the women are made of castiron."

- L. Frank Baum, The Marvelous Land of Oz

Deep sigh indeed.  (Not that taking care of GM is without its rewards:  I had a decent nap and a more than decent lunch today, neither of which most offices afford.)  But that's only the short answer.

Since returning to the US I've had at best two days per week to do "other" work.  Previous to GM's birth and for some time thereafter I used these precious hours mostly to think about what it was I might like to do for work.  My goal was, and remains, to settle upon something that holds my attention but which does not drag me out of town on a regular, or at least not a frequent, basis.  Along the way I developed what feels like a sincere and sustained interest in "self tracking," as previously blogged.

Since then I've toyed with a variety of approaches to the self tracking question, none of which shows much promise of becoming a profitable endeavor anytime soon.  And since my interest in these matters, however strong, does not equal my dislike of being involved in commercially focused startups (my last one having ended, in my opinion, unhappily, though not unprofitably, earlier this year--yes, I confess I was effectively employed for part of this year, despite what I said above), I've had to put some thought into what else I might like to do along the way.

I was advised, soon after leaving my former consulting career, not to throw the baby out with the bankwater, and there were things I liked about working with those big dumb FIs, and about the sorts of problems those clients offered (even if they didn't care about the solutions).  This, combined with the paucity of actual jobs (as opposed to consulting gigs) available within a reasonable (by my definition) commute of my home, has turned my attention back in that direction, and I believe I have found a niche that retains most of the interest without (hope hope hope) quite so much of the BS of my previous career, namely "big data" consulting.

Big data.  Sounds kind of cool, doesn't it?  It isn't, very, but it could be one day.  In the proverbial and, I recognize, for me hackneyed nutshell, big data refers to the enormous warehouses full of data that many organizations are and have been collecting for years now.  It refers, too, to the potential insights it is believed those warehoused piles could reveal, if only the data could be massaged correctly, if only we knew how and what to ask.  We don't, but perhaps big data consultants do?  Of course we do.

So I've signed a consulting agreement with a shop that specializes in this sort of work and am pleased to report that I have my first project, an actual paying gig, assisting a software company that, happily enough, is located in Central Europe.  No commuting, good rates, interesting work, and a content area I am intent on exploring anyway (since, after all, self tracking boils down to making big data out of small).  I suppose I shouldn't rush to retitle myself, not until I've seen if this sticks, but it's a good start.  Good, but small:  not full time work this, which leaves some days still for the heavy lifting that raising GM entails.

P.S.  Thanks to Reader #2 for making me promise to include pictures with my posts.

The secret formula

We're weaning our youngest, an event, or rather series of events, I welcome, for though it now adds feeding duties to my roster it also means I get my wife back.  Well, it's a step in the right direction, anyway.

It also means it's time for research.  I don't recall how deeply we delved into the question of which baby formula to use for FM, but at the time we were living in the Netherlands, and I have a lot more respect for European food safety laws than I do for American ones (we're only just now updating ours--keep your fingers crossed--having apparently been happy to let industry find new ways of poisoning us in the pursuit of profits since the last regulatory clawback in 1938) so I think we probably did without an exhaustive review back then.  And, too, I'm sure whatever we used there we can't get here.  So, GM, what will it be?

[READER ALERT:  The rest of this post is probably pretty boring (but check the photo of The Gid at the bottom regardless) unless you're trying to make the same decision we are.  Even then it's probably pretty boring, but may save you doing even more boring research yourself.  The bottom line is, it's tough to know what you're eating.  It's tough to know what your kid's eating.  It shouldn't be.]

The general points of concern to my mind are:

1. Source of the ingredients:  Obviously not interested in having foreign, and in particular Chinese-supplied, ingredients if avoidable.  (Perhaps not so obvious if you missed the 2008 Chinese milk scandal, and if you did miss it then I recommend staying innocent, it was a particularly nauseating example of its kind.)  FDA review of foreign-sourced ingredients is even more scanty than that of domestically-sourced ones.  As of 2008, all US companies manufacturing baby formula in the US claimed that they were not using Chinese-sourced ingredients.  I don't believe that was true then--none of the ingredients or precursors came from China, when China is the source of XX?--and it is even less likely to be true now.
2. Sugar:  Don't want an unnecessarily sweet formula.  The EU--ahead of the curve again--has banned sucrose as an ingredient in formula due to associations with childhood obesity.  (Only a true cynic would not be surprised to learn that the EU is more activist on this particular point than we are.)  Probably a good idea.
3. DHA & ARA:  These additives, which are in most cases produced using a petroleum-based solvent, are being pushed as the latest booster for infant development.  As best I can tell, the jury is still out, and frankly I'd rather not have GM be on the test line for this:  history shows that these sorts of enthusiasms are not infrequently regretted.
4. Complexity:  Even more than usual I want to be able to understand the ingredients list.
5. Buyer beware:  FDA review in this area is weak, relying as it does on manufacturer-provided "assurances" as to nutritional quality, and mandates no review of manufacturing processes aside from an annual walk-through.  (Having worked in big companies and been on both sides of a variety of audits, I can tell you an annual walk-through is not enough.)
   

Point three eliminates every organic formula except for Baby's Only.  If only it were that simple:  we have a very tempting offer from an insider for half-price Similac.  Given the amount of this stuff GM already consumes this is very tempting indeed.  So it looks like we'll have to compare ingredients after all.  Apologies, but....

Here are the bulk ingredients, Similac vs. Baby's Only:

Organic Nonfat Milk, Organic Maltodextrin, Organic Sugar (Sucrose), Organic High Oleic Sunflower Oil, Organic Soy Oil, Organic Coconut Oil

Organic Brown Rice Syrup, Organic Non-Fat Dry Milk, Organic High Oleic Sunflower Oil, Organic Soybean Oil, Organic Coconut Oil

Note that Similac uses two sweeteners (one of which is the banned sucrose; for more on that see this article), but that Baby's Only's sweetener is listed as its first ingredient:  which is sweeter, or more likely to make GM even fatter than he already is?  Resort to nutritional comparison can only tell us that they are equivalent from caloric and carb points of view.

The rest of the ingredients are, Similac vs. Baby's Only:

Less than 2% of the Following: C. Cohnii Oil^*, M. Alpina Oil^†, Potassium Citrate, Calcium Carbonate, Ascorbic Acid, Soy Lecithin, Ascorbyl Palmitate, Ferrous Sulfate, Sodium Chloride, Choline Chloride, Choline Bitartrate, Taurine, m-Inositol, Magnesium Chloride, Zinc Sulfate, Mixed Tocopherols, d-Alpha-Tocopheryl Acetate, Niacinamide, Calcium Pantothenate, L-Carnitine, Vitamin A Palmitate, Cupric Sulfate, Thiamine Chloride Hydrochloride, Riboflavin, Pyridoxine Hydrochloride, Folic Acid, Manganese Sulfate, Phylloquinone, Biotin, Beta-Carotene, Sodium Selenate, Vitamin D3, Cyanocobalamin, Potassium Iodide, Potassium Hydroxide, and Nucleotides (Cytidine 5’-Monophosphate, Disodium Guanosine 5’-Monophosphate, Disodium Uridine 5’-Monophosphate, Adenosine 5’-Monophosphate).

Calcium Phosphate, Calcium Ascorbate (Vit. C), Organic Soy Lecithin, Calcium Citrate, Choline Bitartrate, Organic Vanilla, Taurine, Ferrous Sulfate, Inositol, Natural Vitamin E Acetate, Zinc Sulfate, Niacinamide, Vitamin A Palmitate, Calcium Pantothenate, Thiamin Hydrochloride (Vit. B1), Copper Sulfate, Riboflavin (Vit. B2), Pyridoxine Hydrochloride (Vit. B6), Folic Acid, Phylloquinone (Vit. K1), Potassium Iodide, Sodium Selenate, Biotin, Vitamin D3, Cyanocobalamin (Vit. B12).

Italicized ingredients are those they share, and even without picking them out it's obvious that Similac has a bunch of stuff Baby's Only does not, which means the latter does better in terms of simplicity.  This is important:  each ingredient offers an opportunity for someone to cut some corners, another chance, in sourcing, in handling, in production, for things to go wrong.

I don't wish to sound paranoid (though I know I do), but given that this will represent the majority of GM's input for the next six months or more, doesn't excessive caution seem about right?

*******

ADDENDUM, @ August 2011:

What I used to do and why I don't do it anymore

It happened again the other day, someone asked what I do for work, which led to an explanation of what I used to do for work, which led to an explanation of why I don't do that anymore.  For those of you who never did understand what I did, or why, and for the blecord generally, here's that story. And for those of you who don't care, I do promise a word or two about what I do for work now in a post soon to follow.  (And if you don't care about that may I invite you to go back to the entry on garages, or ham, or some such?)

I used to work as a consultant on banking compliance projects.  I chose this area because it promised to be complex and therefore interesting, and because projects of this sort were unlikely to be canceled:  the banks were required to do this work.  Unfortunately, they were not required to do it well:  in pre-crisis days, so long as they were doing it with some show of sincerity (i.e., so long as they were throwing a lot of money at the problem) actual progress toward the goal of measuring accurately the risks they faced, actual progress I say, was not necessary. The banks were fantastically profitable and politically powerful, accounting as they did for an undue proportion of employment and prosperity generally. The ability of those charged with "regulating" the banks to punish or even persuade was very limited (shown below, the view from my office window with De Nederlandsche Bank--the Dutch regulator--off in the distance, near the tip of the rainbow, as though it existed in some fantasy world). However, by international agreement, it had been decided that most of the world's more important banks would start measuring their risks in roughly similar ways, and that eventually they would report publicly on those measurements. Hence these projects.

"Measuring the risks," that was the key to the whole thing.  Banks, like casinos, are machines for generating profits.  They do this by borrowing money at a low rate of interest (for example, from the government, or from you in the form of a savings account) and by lending it out again at a higher rate (casinos, of course, just take your money, while making a few falsely suggestive pay-outs). This simple model works so long as two important things hold true: first, the general structure of interest rates must hold relatively steady such that what is "low" stays "low" and what is "high" stays "high," and second, borrowers must pay back what they have borrowed, or most of it anyway.  (There are lots of less important things that need to hold true, too--for example, the bank's employees must not steal all the money--but these two are the real keys.) Everything the bank does involves risk--"interest rate risk" (low is low, high is high), "operational risk" (the bit about employees stealing), and many other kinds--but how a bank manages credit risk (i.e., the risk associated with repayment) is probably the one thing that most clearly differentiates the good banks from the bad.

It was in credit risk that I did most of my work.  It was the most interesting area, to my mind, and it was the most active one, too, because the regulations that require banks to sit on some of their money weight the threat of defaulting counterparties more heavily than any other risk the bank faces.  One effect of this is that some banks have come to view credit risk reduction primarily as a means of reducing the amount of money they are forced to keep on the sidelines.  Credit risk can be controlled by being more selective in your choice of counterparty, by investing in research, by making conservative decisions, by sticking to markets and products with which you have long experience, by being what most people still think of as a "good banker."  But the credit risk figures can be reduced much more easily than that.  They can, in a word, be fiddled.

Fiddling your figures--that is to say editing the numbers you report by inserting adjustments of one sort or another into the stream of calculation--is a very much more efficient means to this end. Not only is it pretty easy to do, but, most important of all, it doesn't require you to change the way you do business.  (Hey hey, don't you get all judgmental here:  if the way you did business was earning you a billion bucks a quarter, you wouldn't want want to change it either!)  And that's what some banks did:  they fiddled their figures, more or less with the collusion of the regulators (OK, now you should get judgmental), while claiming to be improving their calculation systems such that those systems would soon report the "truth," which truth, they claimed, would turn out to be the same as that shown by the "corrected" figures.

Now I'm not saying the banks I worked for did this.  No, no, I'm not saying that.  And even if I were it would be kind of a nonsensical thing to say, because the banks I worked for were enormous multi-faceted organizations that were often internally conflicted and where they weren't were as like as not in a situation where the one hand knew not what the other was doing, so to tell it as if "the" bank behaved in a consciously fraudulent way is just not quite right.

All I'm prepared to say in this forum is that because of the way things were set up--because regulators were weak and banks strong, because everyone was high on the pipe dream of infinite profits, because most of us despite it all still did and do respect and trust financial "institutions"--there was so much of this going on in the world of compliance that if you actually cared about getting these calculation systems to work correctly you would probably feel rather out of place a lot of the time. You would repeatedly find yourself much more concerned about the dysfunctionality of the process of development than were those ultimately responsible for that development.  You would find it increasingly difficult to support the goal of being declared on a sound footing when the steps you witnessed day to day were downright drunken.  You would, much to your surprise and as testament to your immaturity, discover that you were an idealist, and that this was no business for idealists.