I Lost My Office… AGAIN!!

As followers of this blog know, I have a long and tortured past when it comes to my ‘office’… a certain spot at a certain address which has gone through various incarnations over the last few years.

Originally, I set up shop there when it was The Café on Main.

(Cafe on Main – my office, as it then was)

Then, when it was the Ambrosia Café, I re-inserted myself at the same spot and declared that my office was open once more!

(Ambrosia – my office, right side, farthest table back)

In its present incarnation, the Bridgewater Café has provided me my office space once more. I felt I was, once again, firmly ensconced.

(Bridgewater – my office, in front of the counter near the pillar)

That is, until I walked into the Bridgewater last Tuesday!

Judge my chagrin when my office was replaced with a couch, coffee table and some armchairs!

The pain. The loss. The sense of betrayal.

The lovely Shannon gave some lame excuse about the City finding that there were too many seats/tables for the number of bathrooms available and forced them to reduce the seating space.

(Here’s a shot of the lovely Shannon NOT coming to my rescue!)

Be that as it may, I would have hoped that the staff would have blocked any such attempt to eliminate my office.

Shannon should have put up a fight. I suppose she felt that you can’t fight City Hall. Or at least you can try but you will most likely be charged with assault.

(The fair Ashley – she would have stopped it)

I know for a fact that the fair Ashley, given the opportunity, would have stormed over to City Hall (kitty corner to the Bridgewater) like an angry, torch-wielding villager in a Universal Studios horror movie.

Alas, the damage had been done.

(There it is… GONE!)

This is what has become of my precious office space.

I don’t know which is worse… not having an office… or going to the café, sitting at another table and looking longingly at where my office used to be.

I am NOT happy.

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Clock Around the Rock?? (Quantum Mechanics & Time)

The geeks and nerdlings over at ScienceDaily.com have once again failed to disappoint!

A recent article begins,  ”Ever since he was a kid growing up in Germany, Holger Müller has been asking himself a fundamental question: What is time?

That question has now led Müller, today an assistant professor of physics at the University of California, Berkeley, to a fundamentally new way of measuring time.

Taking advantage of the fact that, in nature, matter can be both a particle and a wave, he has discovered a way to tell time by counting the oscillations of a matter wave. A matter wave’s frequency is 10 billion times higher than that of visible light.

“A rock is a clock, so to speak,” Müller said.

(Quantum mechanically, mass can be used to measure time and vice versa)

In a paper appearing in the Jan. 11 issue of Science [1], Müller and his UC Berkeley colleagues describe how to tell time using only the matter wave of a cesium atom. He refers to his method as a Compton clock because it is based on the so-called Compton frequency of a matter wave.

While Müller’s Compton clock is still 100 million times less precise than today’s best atomic clocks, which employ aluminum ions, improvements in the technique could boost its precision to that of atomic clocks, including the cesium clocks now used to define the second, he said.

“This is a beautiful experiment and cleverly designed, but it is going to be controversial and hotly debated,” said John Close, a quantum physicist at The Australian National University in Canberra. “The question is, ‘Is the Compton frequency of atoms a clock or not a clock?’ Holger’s point is now made. It is a clock. I’ve made one, it works.”

Müller welcomes debate, since his experiment deals with a basic concept of quantum mechanics — the wave-particle duality of matter — that has befuddled students for nearly 90 years.

“We are talking about some really fundamental ideas,” Close said. “The discussion will create a deeper understanding of quantum physics.”

Müller can also turn the technique around to use time to measure mass. The reference mass today is a platinum-iridium cylinder defined as weighing one kilogram and kept under lock and key in a vault in France, with precise copies sparingly dispersed around the world. Using Müller’s matter wave technique provides a new way for researchers to build their own kilogram reference.

Müller hopes to push his technique to even smaller particles, such as electrons or even positrons, in the latter case creating an antimatter clock. He is hopeful that someday he’ll be able to tell time using quantum fluctuations in a vacuum.

Müller’s coauthors are post-doctoral fellows Shau-Yu Lan, Michael A. Hohensee and Damon English; graduate students Pei-Chen Kuan and Brian Estey; and Miller Postdoctoral fellow Justin M. Brown. All are in UC Berkeley’s Department of Physics. The work was supported by the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, the David and Lucile Packard Foundation, the National Institute of Standards and Technology, the National Science Foundation and the National Aeronautics and Space Administration.

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[1] Journal Reference:

Shau-Yu Lan, Pei-Chen Kuan, Brian Estey, Damon English, Justin M. Brown, Michael A. Hohensee, and Holger Müller. A Clock Directly Linking Time to a Particle’s Mass. Science, 10 January 2013 DOI: 10.1126/science.1230767

(PhotoCredit: Holger Müller lab)

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 22): Alyssa Krabbykova

Most loonies with whom I have lunched are, as a general rule, positive, good-natured people.

With one notable exception…

Alyssa Krabbykova [1], the world’s crabbiest girl.

Alyssa is grumpy ALL THE TIME.

She lifts grouchy it to an art form.

Alyssa wakes up crabby. How is that possible? How does one wake up crabby? Nothing has happened yet!

And yet, people still love Alyssa despite her foul mood. Probably because of it.

I think part of it has to do with the fact that she is completely honest. She doesn’t put on the fake smile and the phony friendliness. When you talk with her, you get the genuine article – the Full Frontal Alyssa.

There’s something oddly disarming about that.

Alyssa used to work at my old hangout and office, The Café on Main. I swear, customers would come there, in part, to see if Alyssa would be more bored, impatient, frustrated, grouchy… in other words, even crabbier… than the day before. She rarely disappointed them.

(A rare shot of Alyssa not being so crabby)

I would like to think that most young ladies in the food service industry try to be pleasant, cheerful, friendly, etc, in order to make the customer happy. Alyssa adopted more of an ‘eat it and beat it’ philosophy. To her, customers were an annoying nuisance standing between her and the end of the day.

I am hoping to have the sincere pleasure of getting together with Alyssa later this week. I haven’t seen her in a while and I am wondering if time has mellowed the girl a bit. I don’t think I need worry. I am sure she will be every bit as crabby as she ever was.

Here’s to things never changing!

I miss you, Alyssa. Things just aren’t the same without your little bitter ray of sunshine.

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[1] ‘Krabbykova’ is not her real surname. But it should be.

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 21): Jennifer M

Of the loonies with whom I have lunched, occasionally there are loonies who have also made lunch for me.

Near the top of the list is the delightful cook and chef, Jennifer M.

She and I have known each other lo these many years.

When I first met Jennifer, she and the remarkably grumpy Alyssa Krabbykova (more on her in another blog) worked at my old hang-out and office, The Café on Main when it was located across from the courthouse at which I work.

Jennifer has since moved on to a few other restaurants but we have always managed to keep in touch and, occasionally,  get together… at least for a coffee.

Sometimes, Jennifer and I would go to one of her other restaurants  The Smokin’ Buddha in Port Colborne, for dinner. [1]

Jennifer is fun and imaginative. She is wonderful at playing ‘what if…?’ But Jennifer is not all fun and games. She can be quite rigid at times and has been known to be rather firm, especially when it comes to my behaviour.

It was Jennifer who instituted The Rules. These were guidelines that set out how I was to conduct myself (or more often NOT conduct myself) when at the café.

We don’t see each other nearly enough but when we do, we always have a great time.

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[1] If you are even in the area, you have to check it out!

This is my 250th blog post for Kosher Samurai! Woohoo!

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Pythagorean Theorem Demonstrated by Water

Pythagorean Theorum: The area of the square of the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle is equal to the sum of the square on the other two sides.

The theorem can be written as an equation relating the lengths of the sides a, b and c, often called the Pythagorean equation:

where c represents the length of the hypotenuse, and a and b represent the lengths of the other two sides.

And that’s the way it is usually explained.

This way is MUCH cooler!

It is a demonstration of the Pythagorean Theorem using water.

Who said Euclidean geometry can’t be fun!

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 20): LingZhi

Those who know me will freely attest that I have a ‘thing’ for Oriental girls.

Chinese, Japanese, Korean… you name it, I am completely dippy about them.

I recently had the opportunity to meet a very charming young lady, LingZhi. She goes by the English name ‘Liz.’ [1]

She and I met a month or so ago and have been getting together now and again since then.

(LingZhi has this thing for Blue Morpho butterflies)

LingZhi is what I call a ‘stealth loonie!’ She has the cool, calm ‘normal’ exterior thing going, for sure. But once you get past that, she is a different girl altogether!

I really enjoy her company. She has been in this country a couple of years. Her English is more than OK although she is a bit self-conscious about it. [2]

(LingZhi’s socks. I mean, really!)

We do unusual things. For example, about two weeks ago, out of the blue, she asked me if I could teach her how to make mashed potatoes. How do you say ‘no’ to that?  So, off to the grocery store we went. As we were shopping, I tried explaining to her what ‘kosher’ meant but gave up after a few tries. I’ll get around to it eventually, I’m sure.

(LingZhi’s tea with my yixing teapot and cup. Note dead bonsai in background)

LingZhi, knowing my fondness for Chinese green tea, was kind and thoughtful enough to give me some as a Hanukah present.

Yesterday, she flew back home to China for the holidays.

Hopefully, she will return next month and we can see what kind of trouble we can get into again.

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[1] I personally think that the name ‘Lindsay’ is more closely connected to her real name but what do I know?

[2] Not nearly as self-conscious as I am about my Mandarin. The expression ‘Significant Suckage’ leaps to mind.

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The Rules to Always Being a Gentleman

Learn it. Live it. Love it!

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Still With The Bacon, eh??

I’d like to thank the many readers who have forwarded to me their favourite bacon-related photos.

Youse guys are the best!

The national obsession with Bacon. You just can’t make this stuff up!

Yes, boys and girls, bacon is spreading into our culture, like grease on a paper towel.

Places where you would never expect to find bacon…

Even in your wildest imagination.

Bacon fashion is catching on!

OK, maybe a bit TOO much!

After the intial, “WTF?” reaction, I am truly amazed at the variations on the bacon loving theme.

Truly ingenious, if in an obsessive compulsive, almost fetishistic way.

So let’s put bacon where it belongs.

In a frying pan. Waiting to kill you.

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The Arrogant, the Affluent and the Apathetic

As a public defender, there are people I represent… and people I don’t usually get to represent.

I don’t often get to advise the 1%, for example. The Upper Crust doesn’t go slumming down in my part of the courthouse, let’s say.

These are the people for whom I do not act.

Honestly. It’s rare that a multi-millionaire comes to a public defender and asks for help.

It has happened to me, actually, but not often.

A millionaire caught bringing things into the country without declaring them gets charged under customs and excise legislation. He has a ton of money. He’s going to plead guilty anyway. He can afford the fine. And he doesn’t want to spend a lot of money on a lawyer for getting the same result he would receive with a public defender.

That’s chutzpah. And that is the exception.

Mostly, these types exist high above my level of operation. They are aloof. They are indifferent, by and large, to what goes on beneath them.

Sadly, it is precisely this type of person who can make my life hell for me because when he gets into politics, he tends to enact short-sighted (and boneheaded) criminal legislation.

These provisions aren’t intended to get criminals and keep them in jail. They are intended to get votes and keep politicians in office.

But other than that, I have no contact on a professional level with that element of society.

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 18): Elaine, my stalker

Virtually all the loonies with whom I have lunched [1] get to the rendezvous as a result of a series of correspondences or communications with me during which a mutually agreeable time and place is chosen.

There is one notable exception… Elaine.

Elaine and I seem to appear together through some sort of kharma or alignment of the stars. No planning is involved or even required. We just show up and there we are.

Serendipitous, I think one would have to call our impromptu run-ins.

(But who is the stalker and who is the stalkee?)

Stalking others may call it. Either way, we just happen upon each other with an alarming frequency.

Example 1: After a morning of defending the downtrodden and rescuing damsels in distress, I retire to some local café or other to sit down, decompress and otherwise enjoy some quality time with myself. Chances are that within 15 to 20  minutes, Elaine will arrive, see me ensconced at my usual spot and plonk herself down at my table with a surprised smile and a “fancy meeting you here” on her lips.

Example 2: Court is over, an errand or two have been taken care of and I decide to have a tea or a Diet Coke at some local café or other. I walk in and who should be there but Elaine. “It’s about time you showed up!” she says. “I have to leave for work in half an hour!”

Elaine is a hoot. She is also one of our local librarians. She is also a Presbyterian minister. Each of these can be a positive and even desirable trait in many a person. Elaine seems to have captured a personality trifecta or hat-trick of sorts.

But, like the yin and yang symbol, Elaine has a dark and sinister side. Yes, even this genial, smiling, kindhearted woman has evil lurking in her heart.

Elaine is what I call a ‘knit-wit.’

Allow me to elucidate. To some people, knitting is merely a pleasurable pass-time. To others, it is a practical hobby… something by which to while away the hours and end up with a scarf or some socks at the end. With Elaine, knitting is something altogether different. A consuming passion, an obsession, a driving force in her life. Her idea of a good time is driving for 90 minutes to Toronto to look at yarn. [2]

(Zombie sock yarn)

At lunch, she will pull out a freshly-knit pair of socks and breathlessly ask, “Aren’t these GREAT??” She’ll describe in surprising detail where and how she picked out the yarn, what pattern she chose and why, the number of knitting needles used, the various problems she ran into and challenges she had to overcome to produce these incredibly fantastic, amazing, magnificent socks!

“Yes. They’re lovely. Really!” I reply with bound enthusiasm.

She can sometimes tell when I am not as ‘into’ the knitting thing as I ought to be. My muted response occasionally tips her off.

“Oh, what do you know?” she says, dismissing me out of hand.

Another thing about Elaine… her fixation on Barbie.

Yes, THE Barbie. The Mattel doll loved by little girls since she first strutted into the national consciousness in the late 50s. For a while, Elaine carried a Barbie doll or two in her shoulder bag. She was knitting a series of outfits for the leggy gal pal and was always displaying the latest in the series of teeny haute couture. In fact, these dolls were so much a fixture of our lunches that we started referring to them (collectively and interchangeably) as Café Barbie.

The ‘Barbie Phase’ culminated in an all-out Barbie Photo Shoot at Elaine’s house with me as costume crew and general stage hand and Elaine’s husband acting as stage manager and lighting designer/key grip. You had to be there. It took hours but in the end, Elaine had a digital camera filled with images of her Barbie line of designer fashion outfits which she gleefully shared on her Facebook page. Needless to say, Ed and I were whelmed.

Despite these eccentricities (some may call them character flaws), Elaine remains chipper, effervescent, even bubbly. Her laugh is infectious. Her cheerfulness is almost tangible. She is quick with a corny joke and proficient at the pun. She is gentle and kind and funny as all get out.

(My stalker. Or stalkee)

Just don’t mention ‘knitting’ within earshot. You’ve been warned!

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[1] Just to let you know that I am perfectly aware of the grammatically correct form of this phrase.

[2] What’s wrong with the yarn sold locally? Beats me.

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