Thursday, January 26, 2006
The Constant Gardener
This movie came highly acclaimed and is in the running for the Oscars this year. I found it to be tepid at best. It's a tale of two folks who encounter each other by happenstance and marry before they have a chance to know each other, much like an Indian arranged marriage. The husband is in the diplomatic corp and stationed in Kenya and the wife it turns out is a bit of an activist, with a tart tongue and an unbottled fervor to do good by people. That passion propels her into a vortex with deadly consequences. In the end, this is a movie about genuine concern for the poor, unabashed disgust at the rich who profit at their expense and utter contempt for an establishment that does nothing in the face of overwhelming evidence. Interspersed in between are the vagaries of a flegdling relationship. The DVD is out now.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Manchurian candidate
This movie featured D~'s favorite actor Denzel Washington, but even his presence failed to lift this movie out of mediocrity. I think the movie suffered because the storyline was too old and irrelevant to the present times. This was a story that was more suited for the Cold War era. It's adaptation to the Persian Gulf War and its aftermath felt hollow and disconnected; much like stale food that somebody had chanced upon after a decade.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
An encounter with customer service
When I switched my phone service last year, I selected the basic local service package. At least that is what I thought. It turns out I had agreed to add a long distance package that was free. Sometime between July and October of last year, the phone company added a sentence or two to the monthly bill informing users that the long distance package was no longer free and would cost two dollars monthly. Subscribers were asked to call a number and remove the package if they did not want to incur the charge.
Apparently I missed the fine print, a fact I was unaware of when I called customer service yesterday in the afternoon. I was assisted by a rather gruff and unhelpful rep. I began by explaining the problem and took umbrage at being charged for a service that I had not ordered. Of course that raised the rep's hackles and the conversation turned sour. Removing the long distance service the rep said would incur a onetime charge of seven dollars and ninety-five cents. Imagine that! All the phone company has to do is remove the damn long distance service - which I assume is to flip a switch somewhere or program some hardware - and they want to be paid for it. I was adamant that I should not be charged for no fault of mine and I asked the rep to waive the charge, a request he promptly refused.
This morning, I called again and was connected to a female customer service rep. I began by agreeing that I had missed the fine print but would appreciate it if the company removed the long distance service. This time I was told that the one time charge was six dollars and seventy cents. Go figure! I politely requested that the charge be waived and to my surprise my request was honored.
The same customer service organization wouldn't even listen to me yesterday when I asked them to waive a charge and this morning they did it without bickering. Goes to show you what a little persistence and sweet talk can do. Moreover I have a hunch that when you call first thing in the morning, you are more than likely to talk to someone who is fresh, starting the day with a clear mind and therefore more agreeable.
About that fine print inside the monthly bill - I think that is a bad business practise that must be outlawed. I am sure there are many who signed up just like I did, missed the fine print in their bills and don't know that they are being charged for something they assumed was free. All to the phone company's delight.
Apparently I missed the fine print, a fact I was unaware of when I called customer service yesterday in the afternoon. I was assisted by a rather gruff and unhelpful rep. I began by explaining the problem and took umbrage at being charged for a service that I had not ordered. Of course that raised the rep's hackles and the conversation turned sour. Removing the long distance service the rep said would incur a onetime charge of seven dollars and ninety-five cents. Imagine that! All the phone company has to do is remove the damn long distance service - which I assume is to flip a switch somewhere or program some hardware - and they want to be paid for it. I was adamant that I should not be charged for no fault of mine and I asked the rep to waive the charge, a request he promptly refused.
This morning, I called again and was connected to a female customer service rep. I began by agreeing that I had missed the fine print but would appreciate it if the company removed the long distance service. This time I was told that the one time charge was six dollars and seventy cents. Go figure! I politely requested that the charge be waived and to my surprise my request was honored.
The same customer service organization wouldn't even listen to me yesterday when I asked them to waive a charge and this morning they did it without bickering. Goes to show you what a little persistence and sweet talk can do. Moreover I have a hunch that when you call first thing in the morning, you are more than likely to talk to someone who is fresh, starting the day with a clear mind and therefore more agreeable.
About that fine print inside the monthly bill - I think that is a bad business practise that must be outlawed. I am sure there are many who signed up just like I did, missed the fine print in their bills and don't know that they are being charged for something they assumed was free. All to the phone company's delight.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Cinderella Man
I am a fan of Russel Crowe the actor - not the man - and therefore I looked forward to seeing Cinderella Man this weekend. It's out on DVD after failing to do well at the box office in part because of the bad publicity that Crowe drew because of a brawl he had with a hotel concierge in New York while promoting the movie.
Crowe is great in the movie, but I thought Paul Giamatti who plays Crowe's boxing promoter was outstanding. The movie itself is another underdog to riches story on the lines of Seabiscit. Regardless of how many storylines you see plugging this narrative, it is still hard not to be emotionally invested in the underdog. I thought the movie was very well directed by Ron Howard and the fight scenes were exceptionally well shot. On an ironical note, there are several scenes in the film where Crowe's character - the boxer James L Braddock - is humiliated and provoked. And each time, he turns the other cheek and is a picture of calm. If only Crowe can emulate that in real life and tame his famous temper.
My hunch is that the movie might secure a best supporting actor nod for Giamatti.
Crowe is great in the movie, but I thought Paul Giamatti who plays Crowe's boxing promoter was outstanding. The movie itself is another underdog to riches story on the lines of Seabiscit. Regardless of how many storylines you see plugging this narrative, it is still hard not to be emotionally invested in the underdog. I thought the movie was very well directed by Ron Howard and the fight scenes were exceptionally well shot. On an ironical note, there are several scenes in the film where Crowe's character - the boxer James L Braddock - is humiliated and provoked. And each time, he turns the other cheek and is a picture of calm. If only Crowe can emulate that in real life and tame his famous temper.
My hunch is that the movie might secure a best supporting actor nod for Giamatti.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
An evening at the ER
Friday evening on the way back from work, D~ felt unwell. At home she got progressively worse and we hustled off to the nearest ER. At 6 p.m. we walked into a crowded waiting room. For someone watching from the sidelines, the ER is a interesting window into humanity and for the three hours that we are there, I have ample time to watch and listen as folks amble in and out of the ER.
A few minutes after arriving, D~ is triaged and asked to wait until she is called. We amble over to some chairs in the back that are empty.
Next to us is a man who has his arm in a sling doubled over in obvious pain. On the other side a man holds his wife who is slumped over in a wheelchair and throwing up into a bowl. It's not a pleasant sight and I turn my head away. A short while later, he pushes the chair over to the registration window and pleads with the nurse for immediate attention. The nurse politely tells him she is doing everything she can to get a room, but that they are full and backed up and he has to wait his turn. Agitated and frustrated, he sits forlornly holding his wife in his arms. His car blocks the entrance and I offer to park it, an offer he accepts with some relief. I return with his phone and he calls his doctor and asks him to intervene. The nurse talks to the doctor, but her answer is the same - they are busy and he has to wait his turn.
Another woman dressed in a black leather jacket has her head buried in her hands. She is crying softly. A man stands next to her and looks on helplessly. They are waiting their turn just like the rest of us.
Forty five minutes after we arrived, D~ is called in; I choose to wait outside.
A girl, her right arm in a sling walks out with her mother; another, her left arm in an ice pack walks in with her father.
A lady in her mid-twenties is pushed in on a wheelchair by an attendant. She cannot walk, she says. The nurse wants to know how she got from the parking lot to the ER. She explains.
I disappear to catch some fresh air outside and by the time I return, there is not an empty seat to be had. I stand in the back leaning against the wall.
The lady sitting opposite me is there to get blood transfusion. Her sister-in-law strides in with her kid who has severe stomach pain.
A lady walks in and asks to see her husband who was brought in by ambulance from the scene of a car crash. There is no patient with that name, the nurse informs her. She is advised to check three other hospitals where victims of the car crash were taken.
An Indian couple walks in; the wife is obviously sick. The husband walks hesitantly up to the registration window and stands quietly, not knowing what to do. It's probably their first time in the ER.
Another Indian family enters; the wife has a broken thumb.
Two girls walk out; one of them has her left leg in a cast. Her attire suggests that she is a soccer player.
A tall man is parked in front of the restroom that he uses every few minutes. He waits his turn as well.
Three and a half hours after we arrived, D~ is prescribed a new set of medicines and is discharged.
It is a little after nine in the evening when we head home. There are more people coming in and for them a long night beckons.
A few minutes after arriving, D~ is triaged and asked to wait until she is called. We amble over to some chairs in the back that are empty.
Next to us is a man who has his arm in a sling doubled over in obvious pain. On the other side a man holds his wife who is slumped over in a wheelchair and throwing up into a bowl. It's not a pleasant sight and I turn my head away. A short while later, he pushes the chair over to the registration window and pleads with the nurse for immediate attention. The nurse politely tells him she is doing everything she can to get a room, but that they are full and backed up and he has to wait his turn. Agitated and frustrated, he sits forlornly holding his wife in his arms. His car blocks the entrance and I offer to park it, an offer he accepts with some relief. I return with his phone and he calls his doctor and asks him to intervene. The nurse talks to the doctor, but her answer is the same - they are busy and he has to wait his turn.
Another woman dressed in a black leather jacket has her head buried in her hands. She is crying softly. A man stands next to her and looks on helplessly. They are waiting their turn just like the rest of us.
Forty five minutes after we arrived, D~ is called in; I choose to wait outside.
A girl, her right arm in a sling walks out with her mother; another, her left arm in an ice pack walks in with her father.
A lady in her mid-twenties is pushed in on a wheelchair by an attendant. She cannot walk, she says. The nurse wants to know how she got from the parking lot to the ER. She explains.
I disappear to catch some fresh air outside and by the time I return, there is not an empty seat to be had. I stand in the back leaning against the wall.
The lady sitting opposite me is there to get blood transfusion. Her sister-in-law strides in with her kid who has severe stomach pain.
A lady walks in and asks to see her husband who was brought in by ambulance from the scene of a car crash. There is no patient with that name, the nurse informs her. She is advised to check three other hospitals where victims of the car crash were taken.
An Indian couple walks in; the wife is obviously sick. The husband walks hesitantly up to the registration window and stands quietly, not knowing what to do. It's probably their first time in the ER.
Another Indian family enters; the wife has a broken thumb.
Two girls walk out; one of them has her left leg in a cast. Her attire suggests that she is a soccer player.
A tall man is parked in front of the restroom that he uses every few minutes. He waits his turn as well.
Three and a half hours after we arrived, D~ is prescribed a new set of medicines and is discharged.
It is a little after nine in the evening when we head home. There are more people coming in and for them a long night beckons.
Friday, January 13, 2006
No more film cameras
An interesting story on Nikon's decision to stop making film cameras in favor of digital cameras. My experience conforms with Nikon's decision. I have two film cameras that I last used a year and a half ago. I take my digital with me on all my trips and don't miss my film cameras. Of course I still think the pictures from my film camera are far superior than the ones I get from my digital, but the convenience far outweighs any grief over image quality. In fact I think it is time to upgrade my digital which I bought four years ago. I find it bulky by todays standards and would love one that fits snug in my pocket and that I can take with me all the time. Kinda handy when you are out on a walk and come across something that you want to snap.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Pat Robertson
How many times does this guy put his foot in his mouth and get away with it? After his insensitive comments on Ariel Sharon a few days ago, he issued an apology today. I'd respect him if he says something and stands by it regardless of the criticism hurled at him. But no! He did the same thing a while back when he said Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez should be assassinated and then retracted his statement after a huge outcry. You expect this guy to say something stupid anytime something major happens around the world. That is a guarantee! And to think a guy of this caliber is influential in Washington is beyond amazing.
Hunting for a new job
No sooner had I put up my resume on some job boards yesterday, I received a barrage of calls and emails from recruiters. I need to pick myself through this carefully and not make the same mistake I made a year and a half ago. There is an useful entry at this blog that makes several good points that I would do well to heed. I think it is vitally important to figure out what I don't like about this job and what I would prefer to do instead. I need to articulate it clearly so that recruiters that I speak with understand my goals clearly and lead me in the right direction.
I came here because I thought this job would be a step up from my previous job and would allow me to progress into management. Unfortunately that did not pan out. I was excited at first with the opportunity to work with partners on building solutions that complement our product stack and lead a team in India that was exclusively focused on partner solutions. But within six months of arriving here, my enthusiasm fizzled. Working with the partner has been a frustrating experience. They lack basic technical competence that makes any design discussions sheer torture. Moreover priorities within my own group here have changed and my team and I have been pulled into other activities, most of which don't interest me the least bit. With attrition, the group has also grown smaller, negating the need for team leads or managers and therefore that door is closed for me. Having been in development for close to nine years, a pure QA role doesn't tickle me at all. So what I considered to be step up when I joined actually has evolved into a step down. Given that D~ and I have plans of returning to India in two to three years, I think it is vitally important for me to take some risks and pick up some skills that will stand me in good stead in the years to come.
I came here because I thought this job would be a step up from my previous job and would allow me to progress into management. Unfortunately that did not pan out. I was excited at first with the opportunity to work with partners on building solutions that complement our product stack and lead a team in India that was exclusively focused on partner solutions. But within six months of arriving here, my enthusiasm fizzled. Working with the partner has been a frustrating experience. They lack basic technical competence that makes any design discussions sheer torture. Moreover priorities within my own group here have changed and my team and I have been pulled into other activities, most of which don't interest me the least bit. With attrition, the group has also grown smaller, negating the need for team leads or managers and therefore that door is closed for me. Having been in development for close to nine years, a pure QA role doesn't tickle me at all. So what I considered to be step up when I joined actually has evolved into a step down. Given that D~ and I have plans of returning to India in two to three years, I think it is vitally important for me to take some risks and pick up some skills that will stand me in good stead in the years to come.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
The mine tragedy
My heartfelt sympathies are with the folks who lost their near and dear ones in the mine tragedy a couple of weeks ago. But I think the media cheapens the whole episode by continuously harping on it two weeks later. Every time I switch on CNN or some other cable show, I find myself having to watch yet another special on the tragedy. After a while I feel numb and indifferent. This is what twenty hours media can do to you. I should just get rid of cable.
Spencers in Doubletree hotel
The sales team of a visiting partner firm asked us out to dinner last night. Spencers is inside the Doubletree hotel and advertises itself as a steak and lamb restaurant. It was the wrong place for a friend of mine who is a strict vegetarian. But the staff managed to cook him a plate of pasta which he said was passable. I ordered grilled chicken chops which came with a side order of house salad. The dish when it arrived could serve two; it comprised of two legs of chicken and a huge mound of mashed potato. I thought the chicken was overcooked; I have eaten better for less elsewhere. The wine though was excellent.
Spencers also turned out to be quite an expensive place; no dish was less than $15/- a plate. That didn't deter guests and the place was pretty busy through the evening. The clientele seemed to be mainly business types. The one disagreeable feature was that the place was noisy as hell and that made conversation extremely hard.
All in all I think it is a decent place for a party of four, but if you have a larger group, I'd recommend something quieter.
Spencers also turned out to be quite an expensive place; no dish was less than $15/- a plate. That didn't deter guests and the place was pretty busy through the evening. The clientele seemed to be mainly business types. The one disagreeable feature was that the place was noisy as hell and that made conversation extremely hard.
All in all I think it is a decent place for a party of four, but if you have a larger group, I'd recommend something quieter.
Voice on the phone
At work I am often on the phone talking to my peer at a partner firm. We haven't met, but listening to his voice, I think he must be a heavyset man, not very tall and for some reason I feel he sports a beard.
I met him yesterday; he was tall, lean and lanky, over six feet tall and cleanshaven.
I met him yesterday; he was tall, lean and lanky, over six feet tall and cleanshaven.
India Pakistan cricket series
This is when I miss home the most. While I was in India in December, I managed to catch the India Sri Lanka series on TV. But an India Pak series is the real deal and I'll be missing it. You can get the live feed on satellite TV, but staying up all night to watch cricket is hard and I am loath to do it.
Go India!
Go India!
State of Fear by Michael Crichton
I bought this book for light reading on the flight to India but it was hardly a page turner. The book is an effort to question the basis for the frenzy surrounding climate change and global warming. It does this in an elaborate plot where folks who innocently believed the evidence provided by environmental groups in support of global warming are then forced to question their beliefs in the face of contradictory evidence. Environmental activists turn into vile terrorists who go to any length to manufacture evidence and generate publicity in support of their cause.
Halfway through the book I lost interest, but I kept plugging away to see how it ended. In the epilogue, the author cites his own skeptical views on global warming and how that influences the book.
Halfway through the book I lost interest, but I kept plugging away to see how it ended. In the epilogue, the author cites his own skeptical views on global warming and how that influences the book.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Syriana
It's been five days since we returned from India. Perhaps a night at the movies will help us beat jet lag that still haunts us, we think. Femme and I debate what new movie to watch. It's a tossup between Shikar (her choice) and Syriana (my choice) and I prevail.
Syriana was billed as a political drama thriller and frankly I expected more from it. Still it is a vivid depiction of the corrupting influence of oil on geopolitics. It is a damning indictment of America's corporate culture and a withering look at the political class in Washington who back the wrong horse and kill any chance of reform in the Middle East. This is not to say that the film makes excuses for the violence that ravages the Middle East or for a culture that routinely generates suicide bombers. There are other well compiled reasons to explain that scourge. What the film does is give the average Joe another perspective on the issues that torment the Middle East.
Syriana was billed as a political drama thriller and frankly I expected more from it. Still it is a vivid depiction of the corrupting influence of oil on geopolitics. It is a damning indictment of America's corporate culture and a withering look at the political class in Washington who back the wrong horse and kill any chance of reform in the Middle East. This is not to say that the film makes excuses for the violence that ravages the Middle East or for a culture that routinely generates suicide bombers. There are other well compiled reasons to explain that scourge. What the film does is give the average Joe another perspective on the issues that torment the Middle East.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
At LAX
We arrive in LA at 8 p.m. on the 1st. Immigration is quick but our baggage takes a while to arrive. We head to customs; seven flights have arrived within the space of a few minutes and there are long lines. The customs agent waves us through unlike SFO where I have been stopped and asked several questions each time I have returned from India. We head to the AA counter and plead with the agent to let us on the 10:30 p.m. flight to SFO. She refuses and tells us that is a United code share flight and our ticket isn't valid for that. The earliest flight is the 6:26 a.m. flight on the 2nd.
Staying overnight at the airport is not a pleasing prospect. We head to the Alamo rental where we have reserved a van. We fret if all our luggage will fit in the van. The rental agent lets us inspect it and my friend and I are fairly optimistic that it will.
It is raining outside and driving in the rain all night is not a pleasant prospect but it is the only alternative. On the way out of the rental parking lot, we are held up at the gate; the guard won't let us through because the van has more than 20K miles on it. We back up and trudge back inside the rental agency. The agent who rented the van says she'll do a manual override that will let us take the van out. We head back out. Again the agent at the gate refuses to let us through. My friend is about to lose his temper. We have been traveling forty hours and this is the last thing we want to happen.
Better sense prevails and we leave the parking lot at 10:15 p.m. and head to the airport. To our relief all the luggage fits in with room to spare. A little later as we drive away a light appears on the dashboard console. My guess is that particular light comes on when the tires have low pressure. So we stop at a gas station and fill the tires with air. The light doesn't go away but we keep driving hoping that it isn't an indication of anything worse.
The hills near LA have a thin layer of fog. But after a few minutes it clears. Still there is driving rain outside that makes it difficult to drive.
We count down the miles and arrive into San Jose at around 5 a.m. in the morning on the 2nd. We have been traveling for exactly forty eight hours and it is a massive relief to finally reach home.
Staying overnight at the airport is not a pleasing prospect. We head to the Alamo rental where we have reserved a van. We fret if all our luggage will fit in the van. The rental agent lets us inspect it and my friend and I are fairly optimistic that it will.
It is raining outside and driving in the rain all night is not a pleasant prospect but it is the only alternative. On the way out of the rental parking lot, we are held up at the gate; the guard won't let us through because the van has more than 20K miles on it. We back up and trudge back inside the rental agency. The agent who rented the van says she'll do a manual override that will let us take the van out. We head back out. Again the agent at the gate refuses to let us through. My friend is about to lose his temper. We have been traveling forty hours and this is the last thing we want to happen.
Better sense prevails and we leave the parking lot at 10:15 p.m. and head to the airport. To our relief all the luggage fits in with room to spare. A little later as we drive away a light appears on the dashboard console. My guess is that particular light comes on when the tires have low pressure. So we stop at a gas station and fill the tires with air. The light doesn't go away but we keep driving hoping that it isn't an indication of anything worse.
The hills near LA have a thin layer of fog. But after a few minutes it clears. Still there is driving rain outside that makes it difficult to drive.
We count down the miles and arrive into San Jose at around 5 a.m. in the morning on the 2nd. We have been traveling for exactly forty eight hours and it is a massive relief to finally reach home.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Bangkok palace hotel
There is a seventeen hour break before our next connection. The airline has provided us a room in a hotel. It is a thirty minute drive, but first we need to clear immigration. Again we are at the mercy of Thailand's famed service and what should ordinarily take five minutes takes well over half an hour to complete.
The name of the hotel provided by the airline is "Bangkok Palace Hotel" and it evokes illusions of grandeur. It is anything but grand but we are happy that we have a room to stay. We reach the hotel at 5 am and are surprised to find the lobby throbbing with activity at that early hour. This hotel is used by tour operators and there are tourists waiting to board buses to their next destination. It is 5:30 a.m. in the morning and the receptionist says she cannot check us in until 7 a.m. because rooms are unavailable. My blood boils and I am ready to raise a stink but there are others ahead of me who are promised rooms at 6 a.m. waiting who try to calm me down.
We commandeer a couple of sofas and plop down on them. At 7 a.m. I ask and am given a room. I wake up around noon and head downstairs after a shower. Outside there are several shady characters all waiting to take me to a massage parlor. I head back inside and check out the eating options none of which are attractive.
Someone recommends Sukhumvit Road for lunch and we head there. There is one particular place that I have heard off and we ask the driver to take us there. But the driver knows very little English and I am not sure if he knows where the place is. We ask him to drop us off at the nearest location instead. Later on we learn that he was indeed trying to tell us the exact location.
At 5 p.m. we head back to the airport.
The name of the hotel provided by the airline is "Bangkok Palace Hotel" and it evokes illusions of grandeur. It is anything but grand but we are happy that we have a room to stay. We reach the hotel at 5 am and are surprised to find the lobby throbbing with activity at that early hour. This hotel is used by tour operators and there are tourists waiting to board buses to their next destination. It is 5:30 a.m. in the morning and the receptionist says she cannot check us in until 7 a.m. because rooms are unavailable. My blood boils and I am ready to raise a stink but there are others ahead of me who are promised rooms at 6 a.m. waiting who try to calm me down.
We commandeer a couple of sofas and plop down on them. At 7 a.m. I ask and am given a room. I wake up around noon and head downstairs after a shower. Outside there are several shady characters all waiting to take me to a massage parlor. I head back inside and check out the eating options none of which are attractive.
Someone recommends Sukhumvit Road for lunch and we head there. There is one particular place that I have heard off and we ask the driver to take us there. But the driver knows very little English and I am not sure if he knows where the place is. We ask him to drop us off at the nearest location instead. Later on we learn that he was indeed trying to tell us the exact location.
At 5 p.m. we head back to the airport.
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