50 for 50: 32 - Learn Something with Merete

Yeah, this was one of those open to interpretation.  It was actually, "Teach me something or learn something with me."  I don't know what I was expecting.  Maybe we'd take a tap class with Janet Miller or something.

Merete suggested we either learn Reiki or go to a lecture at JPL.  We looked into Reiki (it seemed more outside my wheelhouse, so I was curious about experiencing something different) but it wasn't really something we could do together.  Which led us right back to the sciencey thing.

The lecture was at JPL at 7:00.  Now, Merete's husband wouldn't be able to watch her kids until 6:00, so that would give her an hour to drive to Pasadena, find parking, meet me, grab some dinner, and make our way to the auditorium.  Also, there were no assigned seats (or even reservations) so we'd probably want to get there earlyish.  Logistics were presenting a problem until Merete pointed out that they also live-stream these things on the internet.

This sounded a LOT better -- we could watch from my living room, while enjoying some carry out.  I signed up for this plan immediately.

(And then had to make all sort of disclaimers and apologies, because, OMG, the house hasn't been cleaned in two weeks, and is COVERED with cat fur.)

Merete (who has two small children, so probably does not live in the world's most pristine environment) insisted that she was down with that.

So, that's what happened.  On the way home, I picked up some eats at the kebab place, then took an objective look at the living room and figured that I should defur at least half of the sofa.  And, yes, dust those paw-prints off the coffee table.  I cranked up YouTube on the TV and got the NASA-JPL streaming channel all hooked up and was just about ready for Merete when I heard the dulcet tones of my cat barfing up her dinner.

Seriously?  I'm trying to get the worst of the fur cleaned up and now there's about a 50/50 chance that my guest will ring my doorbell when I'm holding a bag of fresh cat puke?  I quickly dispose of the evidence before Merete pulls up, which itself occurs about a minute before the livestream starts.  We have just enough time to open a couple bottles of cider and plop down in front of the TV with our food.

The presentation was "Explorer 1 and Sixty Years of Space Science."  It was basically a two-parter.  The Explorer 1 bit was a quick intro to how the US got its very firstest satellite in the sky (from a team I politely referred to as "Nazis and Nerds"), and what that satellite discovered ("Hey, that nerd is named Van Allen.  Wonder if that's who the Van Allen Belts are named-- Ohhhh").  It was also nifty to learn that satellites were originally contemplated as simply a military tool, and how the purpose of gathering scientific information came to be a goal.

The second presentation was about what currently orbiting satellites are telling us now about how the planet is doing.  (Hint:  words like "climate change" and "unprecedented" featured prominently.  Words like "Holy crap!" followed from my sofa.)

The presenter for the historical bit was a man; the presenters for the current data bit were women.  It was fun watching smart female scientists discuss their data-gathering and what it tells us about the planet's future.  But we also couldn't help but notice that the first part was about a lot of white men launching their phallic symbol into the sky to conquer the heavens and put them Russkies in their place, while the second part was the nice ladies talking about protecting Mother Earth.

At the end of the presentation, they took questions from the audience.  And a lot of people left before the questions.  A LOT.  We didn't know why everyone was leaving until the questions started.  The first "question" was really some guy telling us his life story.  The presenters kind of thanked him and applauded him and HE STILL KEPT TALKING.  At around this point, I started watching a woman who was on camera slightly to the side of the mic where the questioners stood.  She was trying not to laugh, and failing miserably.  The next questioner got up there and started off dangerously close to mansplaining climate change to the two climate change scientist ladies ("I hear people talk about climate change a lot, but the one piece of data nobody every talks about is...") but then it just veered off into him wanting to confirm everything they were saying by pointing to his own personal favorite data point.  By now, Merete and I were wondering if anyone would ask an actual question.  (One of the scientists sounded Russian, but she mentioned that she grew up in Panama.  I still thought she sounded Russian, though.  Whenever someone would come to the mic with a non-question question, Merete and I yelled for them to "ask where her parents are from!")  Partway through Frustrating Non-Question Time, I see that Laughing Woman in the audience say something to her companion, and you can very clearly read her lips saying, "Let's go."  The camera cuts to the panel, and when it goes back to the questioners, there is now an empty seat where she used to be.  Merete and I pretty much lose it at this point.  (And then, the one time someone in line asks an ACTUAL QUESTION, the panel gives a non-answer answer.)

Selfie!

Also, Merete did not believe my house had been as messy as I'd represented.  To prove I was not exaggerating, I left one couch cushion untouched.  Here ya go.

One of the scientists had majored in Theoretical Math and then went into Physics when she'd figured out the applications of Theoretical Math are ... minimal.  I'd taken the Law path at a similar point, and the whole thing got Merete and I talking about college and learning and transferring skills from one topic to another.  I mentioned I was annoyed by how many people think learning even basic Algebra is a waste, because they don't use it.  (I figure that if more people knew how to compound interest, they wouldn't be suckered into getting mortgages they can't afford.)  But, I mean, even if you don't use Algebra, you were learning how to learn.  Merete thinks you were learning how to think objectively, and analyze data in an unbiased manner.  I think that sounds better.

The lecture very briefly touched on the National Defense Education Act -- where, following the launch of Sputnik and Explorer 1, the U.S. poured money into math and science education so that we'd be competitive with the Russians.  And I got a little depressed when I think of those in politics who would never do such a thing, because they think science is the enemy of religion, or their economic agenda.  The idea that 60 years ago, increasing math and science education was considered a matter of national defense-- just DAMN.

50 for 50: 31 -- Surprise Me, with Dinh

Yeah.  I put a "Dealer's Choice" option on my 50 for 50 list.  Dinh picked it.  After we had a couple of false starts with scheduling, we ended up going to the Downtown L.A. Art Walk.

This was actually pretty cool as Art Walk has been happening regularly for something like 13 years, and neither one of us has ever gone.  Even though it goes down pretty near our office.  (More on this later.)

Dinh is one of those friends whom I can't entirely remember how we met.  (I mean, at work, obviously.  But I don't recall being introduced, or going through the usual sets of questions you cover when you're first meeting someone.  We'd just kind of been in the same circle, and somehow I ended up at a Clinton Fundraiser/Debate Watching Party at her house.  And whenever we talk, we discover we have even more things in common.  I've had a few friendships like this -- where you pretty much start out in the middle of the friendship -- they're very convenient.)

We decided to start with a little pre-Art Walk Happy Hour at a bottle shop/bar down the street.  We had selected this one because they had hard cider -- although I actually couldn't pass up the hard grape soda.  Tasty.  And the first of several Bad Food Choices I'd make all night.  Here's the pre-walk selfie!

Suitably lubricated, we headed out to properly walk amongst the art. 

We knew there were lots of galleries and stuff, but we hadn't anticipated all the little craft tables lining the streets.  It was the sort of thing you get every day in Times Square -- but, apparently, only once a month in downtown L.A.

Art Walk has an information space set up in The Last Bookstore, which seemed a good place for us to start.  Dinh was surprised I'd never been there.  It's a pretty nifty space.  The bookstore part has actual photo ops in it.  Here's one.

The Last Bookstore also has some art space in it -- a few shops/gallery spaces, ending with a particularly wacky one which was steampunk surrealism.  Along the way, Dinh and I were both taken with a series of paintings which were beautiful at first glace, but disturbing at second.

We picked up our Art Walk maps.  We had looked at the Art Walk website which told us the Food Trucks were two blocks further down the street, and the maps didn't tell us anything different, so we figured we'd head down to the food trucks and stop at some galleries on the way.

The food trucks weren't there.  I know what food trucks look like, and they were clearly not there.  (Well, one lone taco truck.  But we'd been promised trucks.  Plural.)

On the other hand, we DID see a restaurant serving all kinds of french fries, so decided that this would be a fine Bad Food Choice for the day.  We split some gyro fries (tasty, but a little spicy).  Actually, the place was more memorable for the restroom.  To your left, a sink.  To your right, a urinal.  In front of you, a toilet.  When you then stand in front of the sink to wash your hands, you notice two things:  (1)  the world's tiniest mirror over the sink (seriously, it's like someone took the mirror off a make-up compact and mounted it over the sink); and (2)  the urinal has a sensor which is activated by your presence, and it flushes behind you.  Somehow, this seemed the total right bathroom to experience as part of Art Walk.

We went another block and checked out three galleries of very different quality.  The one in the middle had some really nifty stuff in it, which we appreciated in the "this is really cool art" way, and not the "yeah, let me get out my checkbook" way.  There was one room of sculptures an artist did, sort of mixed media stuff that was part tribal and part modern and just really feminine and powerful -- and then she also had gorgeous pictures of people wearing the very same wearable sculptures.  And I had this (very unusual, for me) moment where I was digging the fact that I was seeing and appreciating this with another woman.  I usually don't pay much ... any ... attention to who I'm with when I'm seeing art or enjoying theatre or what have you.  But this art was particularly female, and when Dinh and I made appreciative noises over it, it felt like we were "ooooh"ing over the same qualities in the imagery, without having to say anything, because we were coming at it from the same place.

And then we went for dessert.  (Bad Food Choice The Third.)  A waffle joint -- Dinh had fruit and whipped cream on hers; I had fruit and ice cream on mine.  Red velvet ice cream.  Onna waffle.  That, my friends, is art.

As we walked back toward the office, pushing past crowds looking at the craft tables, past the guys offering free hugs, past more dessert places and coffee places and restaurants I didn't know were there-- through all of that, I was just marvelling at how this existed.  Most nights, the neighborhood is a little creepy and deserted after work, but somehow, once a month, there's all this life out here.  This is what OTHER major cities have at night, but Los Angeles hadn't really managed.  On our doorstep.

Oh, sonofabitch, on our ACTUAL doorstep.  Right there -- right across the street from the office -- a corner parking lot full of food trucks.  Big ass trucks.  High class stuff -- many with flat-screen monitors advertising their treats.  And live music.  And more craft tables.  Forget the art, they got the Lobster Roll truck!  And the Grilled Cheese truck!  It's a freakin' street party, on a Thursday in January, a half-block from where we park.

Dinh and I aren't sure if we'll ever do Art Walk again, but we are totally in for the Food Truck fest next month.