The Superbowl Pirate Bus

I’ll forgive you for not noticing the bus full of pirates at the Superbowl. Because, well, unless you saw my 6-year-old, you have a pretty good excuse for missing it. I’ll give you the Goerzen Superbowl play-by-play, just to make sure you’re caught up. It involved pirates, cops, tractors, cookies, a card game, and yes, even troubles with HDMI.

We were invited to a Superbowl party, and were going to bring a party snack. The boys love to help cook, and I try to give them choices. I started naming off potential snacks, starting with healthy options. They listened attentively, until I mentioned cookies.

“COOKIES! ***COOKIES!*** Yes, cookies!”

This reaction was, I must say, not exactly a surprise.

Then I asked them what KIND of cookies. Jacob immediately knew what he wanted, so of course Oliver took a minute to come up with something else. No matter; we could make two kinds of cookies. Jacob, of course, picked a kind of cookie that needs cherries, while Oliver picked one that needs chocolate chips. Thus they both had opportunities to “have a small taste” of ingredients while we prepared the batter.

And so make cookies we did. Plus a loaf of bread. Anyhow, once we got to the party, Jacob and Oliver saw a huge tub of Legos and were at it in a flash. One of Jacob’s friends was pretending everything was a tractor, but it wasn’t long before Jacob started in on his evening’s project: building the largest bus he could build.

He was pleased when he got 4 lego people into it. Even more happy when he got 10 into it. And by the time he figured out how to get 35 into it, he was quite proud of himself indeed. Oliver, meanwhile, in classic little brother fashion, tried to corner the market on surplus lego people. He appears to have the hardline negotiation skill down already, and perhaps is appreciating the value of artificial scarcity in the lego market <grin>

Eventually the bus seemed to hit the limits of engineering and joint strength, and Jacob gave up for a little while. He had a cookie and some carrots, commented on the exciting game of Uno going on, (“Who is the loudest?” “All of them!”), brought me some carrots, and periodically commented that “The ball team is ahead of the SF team. Sure is. They have more points!” (This from the “BAL” and “SF” text on the screen.)

And then he went back to playing. And here’s where the pirates come in.

Jacob’s new bus had a lego flag that he decided was a pirate flag. So the bus was a pirate bus. He built a platform out the back for them to use to “steal things”. So his pirate bus went around the lego area, stealing this from one pile, stealing that from another, until it got almost as long as his first bus.

Pretty soon, along came a police boat to chase the pirates. But the police boat appeared to suffer a humorous series of logistical failures and never could quite disrupt the pirates. But never mind that, for little brother Oliver was getting bored with the lego mountain he was building and decided it would be more fun if he would disrupt the pirates. An opinion that Jacob quite strongly disagreed with.

When it was time to go, Jacob tried to extract a promise from the party hosts to not let anyone take apart the pirate bus until next time we would be there.

Then this morning, Jacob and I had a discussion about pirates.

“Dad, are pirates real?”

“Yes, Jacob, they are.”

“Do they steal things?”

“Yes, but they are far away. There are no pirates here.”

“Are there pirates in Kansas?”

“No. There are some pirates in Africa though.”

“Oh. What state is Africa in?”

“Africa is so far away that it isn’t even in a state. You’d have to take a boat or a plane to get there.”

“Or a train!”

“Nope, a train couldn’t get across the ocean. It’s too wide!”

“They’d build a bridge!”

“It’s too wide for a bridge. It’s more than a thousand miles!”

“WOW – a thousand miles! Great! OK dad, it’s time for me to get on that school bus!”

Today is Pretend St. Patrick’s Day!

Today in the USA is Martin Luther King, Jr., day. But sometimes these holidays get confusing for a 6-year-old.

I asked Jacob the other day if he knew what holiday was coming up. He thought about it for a second, then declared it would be St. Patrick’s Day. He was excited because St. Patrick’s Day is green.

When he realized that it was really MLK Day, he was disappointed. “That day isn’t green.” So I said, “Jacob, how about we celebrate pretend St. Patrick’s Day on Monday?” His face lit up, he got a huge smile, and said, “Oh yes! Great idea, dad!” Oliver got all excited about it too.

I was already planning on us doing some cooking, and thankfully had green food coloring already. So I sort of discarded my plans so each meal could have something green in it.

When the boys woke up this morning, I wished each of them “Happy Pretend St. Patrick’s Day!” We all wore green. Jacob put his shirt on backwards so the side with more green would be facing front.

For breakfast, our green dish was green crepes with a succotash (based on baby lima beans and corn) filling. The boys were excited to discover that the crepes could be green on one side, and green and a little brown on the other. Jacob was unsure of the succotash idea, but after having a few bites, declared it “excellent”.

After breakfast, we made bread. They loved watching the green food coloring disperse in the water. We checked on how green the dough looked periodically. We watched how it was rising and whether it was staying green. And we checked in on it backing, as the crust turned from green to brown. We discussed green bread over and over. Important questions were asked and answers were attempted.

And then, of course, the moment of truth – removing the loaf from the pan.

The boys jabbered excitedly that there was some green peeking out. While we waited for it to cool, we went out to the creek. The creek is dry this year, so we got to walk in it. Jacob used his stick to make a line behind him. I asked him, “Is that a line so we can find our way back?” “Oh! Uhm. Yes!” And then he added arrows so we’d know which way to go.

Jacob stopped every 20 or so feet to collect pretend train tickets from Oliver and me. Oliver eventually grew tired of this, so Jacob started collecting Oliver’s ticket from me. They climbed on some trees, managed to find some mud, drew outlines of train cars in the dirt, and then followed Jacob’s line back down the creek bed. They pointed out any green things they saw.

Then we went back to the house, took off our warm coats, and cut into the bread.

Can you imagine the excitement?

I hadn’t realized “green” is a flavor, but it must have been somehow, because those boys absolutely loved this green bread. When we got out the jam, Jacob realized that it was red on the green bread, and that now his bread was Christmas-colored.

All sorts of green bread discoveries were made, but the best among them was that if you hold a slice of green bread up to the bright sun, the sun makes it glow green and it looks like a stained-glass window.

Sometimes a few drops of food coloring can add a ton of excitement to a day.

Milk, Cookies, and Delight

Sometimes an attic is all it takes to delight children.

This afternoon, the boys and I made cookies. Jacob has been talking about setting out milk and cookies for Santa Claus for several days, and of course the fact that we had made cookies reminded him of this – as I figured it would. So after the boys got into their pajamas and all ready for bed, we set out milk and cookies for Santa.

The boys have always known that Santa is pretend, but love the stories and traditions anyhow. Never mind that Christmas was 3 days ago, and they’ve already opened their presents. It’s SANTA! It’s magic! It doesn’t matter!

I asked Jacob, “Would you like me to pretend to be Santa tonight?” A big grin, then “Oh yes, dad! Do it!”

So after I read them their bedtime story, sang them a song (Jacob chose a Latin hymn – that’s my boy!), and tucked them into bed, I pretended to be Santa. I went back downstairs. I drank the milk and ate the cookies. Then I went to my small future present stash, selected a few small items, and put them under the tree. I gave it a few minutes.

Then I crept up to the attic. I snuck along the wood floors quietly, until I was above the boys’ room.

Then I jumped. And I scraped a wood chair along the floor. And then I yelled out – “HO HO HO! Merry Christmas!” I had a brief conversation with Rudolph, then made some sliding noises. I was silent for a few seconds, then made some more noise and said, “Wow, Rudolph, Jacob and Oliver left some great milk and cookies! Let’s go deliver the rest of our presents!” And made some vague sleigh taking off from the roof of a house noises.

I crept back down the stairs. I put my ear to the outside of the closed door to the boys’ bedroom. I heard Jacob excitedly jabbering, “He said milk and cookies! He liked them! He really liked them! Ooo butterfly, he was here!” (Butterfly is a stuffed, er, butterfly that he sleeps with.)

I gave it a minute or two, then I went in. “Jacob, did you hear something?”

“Yes!”

“What was it?”

“Well, it was a loud thud! I sat straight up like this. [ he demonstrates ] Then I heard ‘ho ho ho’! And ‘milk and cookies’! And I was excited like this!” [ more demonstrations ]

“What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know! Dad, what did you do?

I told him. It only increased his delight.

“Did it sound like Santa’s sleight landing?”

“(annoyed) No, dad. It sounded like a crash. (brightening) And then Santa coming down the chimney with presents! Oh, it is so exciting!”

(We don’t have a chimney)

It was still magical, even though he knew exactly what happened.

For his part, Oliver slept through it all. He will still discover the empty plate, empty cup, and slightly less empty area underneath the tree. And neither boy knows about the thank you note from Santa yet. I anticipate smiles in the morning!

Glockenklang, Forever

Jacob (and Oliver too, somewhat) has taken quite the interest in Christmas music this year. Perhaps it’s singing in the choir at school, or perhaps it’s just him getting older, but in any case, Christmas music fascinates him.

And no song more than Jingle Bells. I have recordings of it by several artists in different styles, and he has his favorites and often wants to hear them – again and again.

The other night at supper, he said, “Dad, can you sing Jingle Bells in German?” Kind of a random question. I normally try to keep books and devices of all sorts away from the table, but my son had just asked me to sing. In German. I don’t believe that had ever happened before, so I wasn’t going to say no! I got my tablet, pulled up Google, and found some German lyrics. Not exactly a translation, but it fit the tune, so that’s what counts.

So I started singing, and when I got to the chorus, and sang Oh, Glockenklang, Glockenklang both boys bust up laughing. They thought Glockenklang was a hilarious word, and loved to hear it. Oliver requests I “sing Glockenklang” every so often now. He has this eager anticipation when he does it, as if he knows I’m going to be hilarious — so much so that he almost starts laughing before I even say a word.

Then yesterday at breakfast, Jacob requested more German songs. I finally got a couple of hymn books (one of which, Gesangbuch mit Noten, really is a German songbook). I sang some songs in German for the boys, while they enjoyed their blueberry crepes. Sadly Stille Nacht and O du fröhliche did not prove as hilarious as Glockenklang, but they got impatient as I looked through the idnex between each song, saying “Dad, just sing more German! Don’t look at those pages!” So I guess it was a hit.

I’m not sure where this sudden fascination with German music came from, but it appears to be leaving me hungry.

While driving around, Oliver requested I sing Glockenklang in the car. I said yes, despite not remembering even one German word to that song except for, well, Glockenklang. So I just filled in with some random German words I do know. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to have memorized the rest of it either.

The other day, we went to the annual Christmas concert at the local high school. It was perfect for the boys – various styles of music, an interesting old auditorium, nobody was going to care if they weren’t perfectly quiet, and the price was right, too.

The band played first, and both boys sat there, paying great attention, soaking it all in. They loved the cymbal crashes and Jacob seemed to dream of playing the chimes and bells. At one point, I whispered to Jacob that I could feel the timpani on the wood floor in the auditorium, and he tried it, and made his “Hmm, I just learned something interesting!” reaction.

As is tradition, the concert concluded with singing the Hallelujah Chorus – and anyone in the audience that wants to sing is invited on stage to join the choir.

I remember being in high school for that concert, and after practicing it in school, the great fun of being joined by many powerful voices from the community all around me on the risers. So this time, while my parents stayed with the boys, I was one of the many that went up to join the choir. It was no less thrilling all these years later. Ending with “Forever and ever, Hallelujah, Hallelujah. Hallelujah!”, and feeling it, right then, put a huge smile on my face.

Faces

A couple of weeks ago, I walked in to a nice, sit-down restaurant, with a smile on my face. It’s the kind of restaurant with folded cloth napkins on the tables. “Table for three, please” – as Jacob and Oliver were with me.

This much isn’t unusual. I have periodically taken them out to eat for quite some time, and they enjoy it.

But there were a few unusual things about this particular day. I suppose the main one is that they had just been doing this.

Yes, painting your own face can be a lot of fun. And also serious business.

The boys and I were in Santa Fe, NM on a train trip. It had been a year since their last train trip, and that’s longer than they are typically used to. I’d taken Jacob on a train trip with just the two of us before, but this was the first trip with just the two boys and me.

And one of the places we visited was the excellent Santa Fe Children’s Museum. It may be the best children’s museum I’ve ever seen. Not the largest, or the flashiest, but that’s part of the reason I say “best”. They had chimes (and many other percussive “instruments” to produce different pitches, including mounted hubcaps and varying length wooden planks). They had a great magnets table with washers and nuts, so children can build their own bridges, stairs, etc. using magnetism. A giant bubble table, tunnels to crawl in outside, etc. A great place.

And, apparently, the thing they were really known for — I did not know this in advance — is the paint your own face station. Jacob and Oliver really got into it. Oliver informed me he was a lion and I heard “ROAR! ROAR!” periodically all afternoon. Jacob asked me to help paint a J, and the spirals, on his cheeks. After some careful thought, he informed me that he was “spiral man”.

Next to the paint your own face area was a clean your own face area. Most kids were being helped to clean their own face by their parents on their way out. Jacob and Oliver protested that plan, so I figured, if they want to enjoy painted faces all day, why not?

And this, of course, led into lunch with self-painted faces. Nobody at the restaurant commented, but the owner had a huge grin when he saw them. (It was a Mediterranean place, and I’m sure the owner would have commented had there not been a language barrier.) Incidentally, the boys became quite the fans of souvlaki.

Later, as we walked around Santa Fe Plaza and another museum, they drew smiles all over the place. Several kind people asked them, “Did you enjoy the children’s museum?” Yes, everyone in Santa Fe seemed to know precisely where kids with painted faces had been that day.

Santa Fe is an amazing and beautiful city. It was warm and friendly, and the architecture and layout was fun to see – and pedestrian-friendly. We walked past the Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi several times, and went in once. For some reason I could never fully explain, I could often smell their incense even a block or two away. It added to the crisp wintry feel of the plaza.

The point of the trip wasn’t Santa Fe, though. It was Jacob and Oliver on Amtrak, which is the thing they were really most excited about – of course. They were excited as usual, and despite the fact that the train comes through this area only at around 3AM, were plenty excited to be on the train. And, in fact, didn’t fall asleep again until about 5 due to the excitement (though they did an excellent job of being quiet). Of course, 6AM was “morning” so they were wide awake by then.

Jacob had been planning what he’d eat on the train for days already, and had announced he would be having French toast for breakfast and pizza at lunch. He was a bit disappointed to see that French toast wasn’t on the menu this time, but pancakes saved the day.

While waiting for the dining car to open at 6:30, we went to the lounge car for awhile. I had brought along various things for them to do on the train, of course, and among them was a notebook and some markers. Jacob loved drawing suns and stars, and sometimes writing short notes. He gave notes to several friendly people that happened to be visiting with us on the train. Oliver enjoyed it too, but he was more intrigued by the cheap set of multi-colored post-it notes.

There were two happy, and somewhat tired, boys getting off that train in the middle of the night when we returned.

The world is still a good place

At times like these, it is easy to think of the world as a cold, evil place. Perhaps in some ways, it is. I saw this quote from Fred Rogers floating around today:

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” To this day, especially in times of “disaster,” I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.

Sometimes I think that Fred Rogers’ wisdom is so often under-appreciated. What he says is true, very true.

I know what it’s like to fear for my child’s life. And sometimes the shoe has been on the other foot, when I have been one of the helpers.

Many of you know these last few months have been the most difficult in my life. And despite having gone through the deaths of three relatives, nothing has quite compared to this.

I can not even begin to express my gratitude for all the care, compassion, and love that has come my way and towards the boys. People I barely knew before are now close friends. Random strangers have offered kindness and support. I have never before needed to be cared for like that, and in some ways perhaps it was hard to let myself be cared for. But I did, and all that caring and generosity has made an incredible difference in my life.

Most of us don’t see our pain on CNN or BBC, but that doesn’t mean it’s less real. And it doesn’t mean there’s nobody that cares. Open up to others, let them care for you. Things can and do get better.

The people in Newtown did nothing to deserve this. No matter what evidence is found, they will never get an adequate answer to “why?” Children have been frightened, families torn apart, lives ended, for no reason at all.

But they will survive the terrible pain. In time, they will find happiness again. And they will feel love and compassion from people around the world — something to sustain them in their grief. I am certain of this.

I recently read this quote, part of a story about a dying cancer patient:

“Don’t forget that it doesn’t take much to make someone’s day.”

Yes, the world is still a good place.

Difficult Times & Hope

This past month has been the most difficult in my life – and that of my family as well. I’m not going to go into it for the whole Internet, but any well wishes, happy thoughts, prayers, whatever you want to send our way, whether we know about it or not, would certainly be welcome. And, of course, the reason I’m not very active online right now is that I’m focusing on family, work, and other pressing matters.

I have had some measure of comfort from hearing from others that have had pain in their lives. It is good to know I’m not alone, good to have people to talk and share with. And it is good to find some way to have hope in the midst of difficulty and uncertainty.

I sing with the Kansas Mennonite Men’s Chorus, and when listening to one of our recordings recently, was struck by these words in a whole new way. Let music never die in me is a powerful message.

I dreamed a dream, a silent dream,
of a land not far away.
Where no bird sang,
no steeples rang
and teardrops fell like rain.

I dreamed a dream.
No alleluia, not one hosanna,
No song of love, no lullaby.

And no choir sang to change the world.
No pipers played, no dancers twirled.
I dreamed a dream, a silent dream.
Silent.
Silent.

Awake! Awake!
Awake, my soul and sing!
The time for praise has come.
The silence of the night has passed;
a new day has begun.
Let music never die in me!
Forever let my spirit sing!
Wherever emptiness is found,
Let there be joy and glorious sound.

Let music never die in me!
Forever let my spirit sing!

Let all our voices join as one
to praise the giver of the song!

Awake! Awake!
Let music live!

The Awakening, Joseph M. Martin (excerpts)

See a performance here.

Even when hope is dim, or the music is playing only softly, it’s not dead. I hear it when an 85-year-old person in church, comes up to me with tears in her eyes and gives me a big, silent hug. I feel the music when when I can share about things with people, when I sing, when the beautiful Kansas sunset peeks out, when I share a smile or laugh with someone, and when I see the delight and happiness of children.

Let music live!

Kindergarten Computer Class and Password Security

Jacob started Kindergarten last week. More on that in another post.

He’s been loving it, until yesterday. At least part of his disgruntlement was because it was his first visit to computer class. Putting together a few conversations, we learned this:

Jacob: Something was different about Kindergarten today.

Us: Oh? What was it?

Jacob: I had computer class today.

Us: What did you do?

Jacob, super frustrated: Nothing. NOTHING, NOTHING, NOOOO THIIING. Nothing.

Us: You didn’t get to use a computer?

Jacob: All we did was log on and log off the whole time. Log on and log off. My username is Jacob and my password is Jacob. (annoyed and confused voice) Why are they the same??

I guess his teachers weren’t used to children that had been logging on to computers for two years before Kindergarten. And probably also weren’t expecting any of them to take some sort of offense at their password poicy. He probably couldn’t appreciate how reasonable it was to tech Kindergarteners how to log in to a computer on the first day of computer class…

Voice Keying with bash, sox, and aplay

There are plenty of times where it is nice to have Linux transmit things out a radio. One obvious example is the digital communication modes, where software acts as a sort of modem. A prominent example of this in Debian is fldigi.

Sometimes, it is nice to transmit voice instead of a digital signal. This is called voice keying. When operating a contest, for instance, a person might call CQ over and over, with just some brief gaps.

Most people that interface a radio with a computer use a sound card interface of some sort. The more modern of these have a simple USB cable that connects to the computer and acts as a USB sound card. So, at a certain level, all that you have to do is play sound out a specific device.

But it’s not quite so easy, because there is one other wrinkle: you have to engage the radio’s transmitter. This is obviously not something that is part of typical sound card APIs. There are all sorts of ways to do it, ranging from dedicated serial or parallel port circuits involving asserting voltage on certain pins, to voice-activated (VOX) circuits.

I have used two of these interfaces: the basic Signalink USB and the more powerful RigExpert TI-5. The Signalink USB integrates a VOX circuit and provides cabling to engage the transmitter when VOX is tripped. The TI-5, on the other hand, emulates three USB serial ports, and if you raise RTS on one of them, it will keep the transmitter engaged as long as RTS is high. This is a more accurate and precise approach.

VOX-based voice keying with the Signalink USB

But let’s first look at the Signalink USB case. The problem here is that its VOX circuit is really tuned for digital transmissions, which tend to be either really loud or completely silent. Human speech rises and falls in volume, and it tends to rapidly assert and drop PTT (Push-To-Talk, the name for the control that engages the radio’s transmitter) when used with VOX.

The solution I hit on was to add a constant, loud tone to the transmitted audio, but one which is outside the range of frequencies that the radio will transmit (which is usually no higher than 3kHz). This can be done using sox and aplay, the ALSA player. Here’s my script to call cq with Signalink USB:

#!/bin/bash
# NOTE: use alsamixer and set playback gain to 99
set -e

playcmd () {
        sox -V0 -m "$1" \
           "| sox -V0 -r 44100 $1 -t wav -c 1 -   synth sine 20000 gain -1" \
            -t wav - | \
           aplay -q  -D default:CARD=CODEC
}

DELAY=${1:-1.5}

echo -n "Started at: "
date

STARTTIME=`date +%s`
while true; do
        printf "\r"
        echo -n $(( (`date +%s`-$STARTTIME) / 60))
        printf "m/${DELAY}s: TRANSMIT"
        playcmd ~/audio/cq/cq.wav
        printf "\r"
        echo -n $(( (`date +%s`-$STARTTIME) / 60))
        printf "m/${DELAY}s: off         "
        sleep $DELAY
done

Run this, and it will continuously play your message, with a 1.5s gap in between during which the transmitter is not keyed.

The screen will look like this:

Started at: Fri Aug 24 21:17:47 CDT 2012
2m/1.5s: off

The 2m is how long it’s been going this time, and the 1.5s shows the configured gap.

The sox commands are really two nested ones. The -m causes sox to merge the .wav file in $1 with the 20kHz sine wave being generated, and the entire thing is piped to the ALSA player.

Tweaks for RigExpert TI-5

This is actually a much simpler case. We just replace playcmd as follows:

playcmd () {
        ~/bin/raiserts /dev/ttyUSB1 'aplay -q -D default:CARD=CODEC' < "$1"
}

Where raiserts is a program that simply keeps RTS asserted on the serial port while the given command executes. Here's its source, which I modified a bit from a program I found online:

/* modified from
 * https://www.linuxquestions.org/questions/programming-9/manually-controlling-rts-cts-326590/
 * */
#include 
#include 
#include 
#include 
#include 
#include 
#include 
#include 


static struct termios oldterminfo;


void closeserial(int fd)
{
    tcsetattr(fd, TCSANOW, &oldterminfo);
    if (close(fd) < 0)
        perror("closeserial()");
}


int openserial(char *devicename)
{
    int fd;
    struct termios attr;

    if ((fd = open(devicename, O_RDWR)) == -1) {
        perror("openserial(): open()");
        return 0;
    }
    if (tcgetattr(fd, &oldterminfo) == -1) {
        perror("openserial(): tcgetattr()");
        return 0;
    }
    attr = oldterminfo;
    attr.c_cflag |= CRTSCTS | CLOCAL;
    attr.c_oflag = 0;
    if (tcflush(fd, TCIOFLUSH) == -1) {
        perror("openserial(): tcflush()");
        return 0;
    }
    if (tcsetattr(fd, TCSANOW, &attr) == -1) {
        perror("initserial(): tcsetattr()");
        return 0;
    }
    return fd;
}


int setRTS(int fd, int level)
{
    int status;

    if (ioctl(fd, TIOCMGET, &status) == -1) {
        perror("setRTS(): TIOCMGET");
        return 0;
    }
    status &= ~TIOCM_DTR;   /* ALWAYS clear DTR */
    if (level)
        status |= TIOCM_RTS;
    else
        status &= ~TIOCM_RTS;
    if (ioctl(fd, TIOCMSET, &status) == -1) {
        perror("setRTS(): TIOCMSET");
        return 0;
    }
    return 1;
}


int main(int argc, char *argv[])
{
    int fd, retval;
    char *serialdev;

    if (argc < 3) {
        printf("Syntax: raiserts /dev/ttyname 'command to run while RTS held'\n");
        return 5;
    }
    serialdev = argv[1];
    fd = openserial(serialdev);
    if (!fd) {
        fprintf(stderr, "Error while initializing %s.\n", serialdev);
        return 1;
    }

    setRTS(fd, 1);
    retval = system(argv[2]);
    setRTS(fd, 0);

    closeserial(fd);
    return retval;
}

This compiles to an executable less than 10K in size. I love it when that happens.

So these examples support voice keying both with VOX circuits and with serial-controlled PTT. raiserts.c could be trivially modified to control other serial pins as well, should you have an interface which uses different ones.

Crazy Enough?

So far this year, I’ve read somewhere in the neighborhood of 5000 pages. As I’ve started to read more, I’ve started to watch TV, movies, and Youtube less, because they are simply boring and shallow in comparison. War and Peace, in particular, deeply touched me. Lately I have been reading the Wheel of Time series, which has its own unique characteristics.

Whether an epic (or super-epic, such as Wheel of Time) novel, or the Sherlock Holmes series, or nonfiction works, there is something magical about reading a book. We often see characters, real or fictional, that rise from obscurity to do great things for the world. We are transported in time and place to a time or place we will never be able to experience, perhaps because it is long past, or perhaps because it never was. But in any case, we can be inspired.

I am reminded of this quote:

“The people crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones that do.”

If someone told me that a street vendor in Tunisia would, in less than a year, cause the overthrow of 4 dictatorships and reform in a handful more, I would have, yes, thought that was crazy. And while Mohamed Bouazizi isn’t a household name in much of the world, he managed exactly that. But not just him. It took crazy unarmed people to occupy Tahrir Square, some to die, for progress to be made in Egypt.

This story is written all over history. People have done the impossible, have defied all odds, through sheer belief that they could. Civil rights have been granted due to the leaders we all know, but also due to the millions of marchers we don’t. Changing the world doesn’t have to mean that the world knows you. It just has to mean that you love the world, as Tolstoy pointed out:

Love hinders death. Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall return to the general and eternal source.

Whatever your stance on religion, this is a powerful quote. Sometimes particles of love might look crazy. But isn’t it then that they are the most alive? Isn’t it then that they are the greatest hindrance to death and despair?