Blog

Short blog posts, journal entries, and random thoughts. Topics include a mix of personal and the world at large. 

Clearing the slate

Last week, I noticed a coworker checking out bicycles (of the self-pedaling kind). I asked if he’s looking to buy, or merely window shopping. Somewhat meekly he replied that he really shouldn’t be looking to buy, because he’s already got a bicycle that he spent a relatively significant sum on. Alas, the upgrade treadmill comes for us all. We’re always looking for the next better thing, aren’t we? This is why I’ve yet to keep a car longer than three years. (My BMW M2 is coming up to that threshold in September…)

Another coworker chimed in with a tip: if you truly wish to replace something with a new/better of the same, you should sell the one you already have first. That way, the slate is clean, and you’re once again deprived of the thing you want. (Ignore the depreciation, obviously.) Coincidentally, the coworker looking at bikes said he actually did put his old bike up for sale! And soon as it sells, he’ll have no reservations about buying the newer, shinier replacement.

Inspired by this, I decided to give my old Sony A7R2 camera (plus two lenses) to a photography enthusiast friend of mine. For free. I cannot be bothered to put it up for sale, wasting time with tire-kickers and having to go to a UPS store for shipping. I’ve had the camera for seven years, it’s served me well; it’s time to let it go cleanly and smoothly. Never mind the fact I hardly use the camera these days. By offloading the camera to my graciously accepting friend, I am now free to make a move for a newer camera.

I’ve been admiring the Fujifilm XT-5 for awhile now. It’s not an easy decision to switch from one camera brand to another, because you essentially have to re-buy everything that isn’t the memory card. The draw of the XT-5 (and any Fujifilm camera) is the film simulation: essentially a filter on your shots that replicate how old film cameras would look. No editing, just straight out of the camera. An easy button for when I don’t want to spend hours editing hundreds of RAW files.

Now I just need the XT-5 to go on sale…

That’s got to be a corgi.

Riding on rollerblades

About a year ago at work, our office chairs got reupholstered. A coworker made sure that his chair did not get lost in the shuffle - the one he parts with is the one he is to get back. It was easy enough: that chair has a feature distinct from the rest. Instead of the typical plastic casters the rest of our chairs have, the coworker’s chair has rollerblade wheels. On first impression, it looked completely weird. Can it even move properly?

I filed it to the back of my mind, chalking it up as a funky quirk of the coworker. The original casters on my chair works just fine!

Recently, however, I stumbled upon a tweet from someone I follow. He mentioned rollerblade wheel upgrade for office chairs, and how it is an excellent quality of life improvement, especially for work-from-home folks. The link to the Amazon page reveals a surprisingly low cost. For about $40 dollars, anyone can upgrade the casters on their chairs. I was intrigued, not by the promised benefits, but the price! It’s cheap enough to give it a go.

Performing the upgrade is super easy: the standard casters literally pop right off from the chair. The rollerblade wheels then pop right in. In less than a minute, I was done. I do suggest wearing gloves, because grease and dirt will get onto the hands.

I should have done this way sooner! Rollerblade wheels are such a revelation. Not only does my Herman Miller Aeron rolls incredibly smoothly, it’s also far quieter than before. I can glide from one end of the room to the other with minimal noise. The product claims it’s kinder to the floors, too, though my plastic laminate flooring didn’t suffer under the plastic casters. So I can’t confirm that part.

I’m going to ask at work if they can buy me a set for my office chair.

Fresh wheels.

No new iPhone for me?

Am I getting the new iPhone this year?

Ever since the iPhone 7 - coinciding nicely with attaining a stable income - I’ve done the yearly upgrade to my Apple smartphone like clockwork. While indeed it’s really nice to have the latest and greatest shiny thing every one turn of the calendar, my reason for upgrading annually is for the improvements to the camera system. Apple continues to make leaps every year on the iPhone’s photographic capabilities, and as a hobbyist photographer, it’s a useful tool worth the upgrade cost.

Obviously, 2020 is no ordinary year. With the global pandemic shutting down all manners of travel, and relegating us to our homes more so than ever, there’s really not much opportunity for photography to happen. Is it worth getting the new iPhone 12 when the usage rate is this low? I’m not so sure.

But there’s another problem: Apple put the newest camera technology only in the largest of the iPhone 12 lineup, the Pro Max. Having gone back to a “regular size” iPhone 11 Pro after a string of plus-sized iPhones, I’ve come to prefer the practicality and convenience of a smaller device. It’s far easier to fit into pant pockets, and I can take photos with a single-hand, whereas the largest iPhone would require two hands just to steady the phone body. Apple going back to putting the best cameras only in the largest iPhone is putting me into quite the first-world dilemma: what’s more important? Portability, or picture quality?

I have a strong feeling that if I do upgrade this year, I’m going to reluctantly choose the iPhone 12 Pro Max. The size is going to take some time to get reacquainted with, but the improvements that comes with the larger sensor and new stabilization is ultimately worth the trade-off. I want the best picture quality possible.

Let’s see what happens in a few weeks, when the Pro Max becomes available for purchase.

The Bavarian legend.

On HD televisions

I can fondly remember the first time I upgraded to a proper HD television. At 32-inches, the Sony Bravia isn’t large compared to the common behemoths of today, but the huge jump to 1080p resolution was stunning all the same. Those were the days when I’d find any excuse to dig up some HD content to enjoy the sheer picture quality that’s being blasted in front of our eyes. The Planet Earth series was an absolutely treat; so was “The Lighting of the Beacons” scene in the The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. HD was such a significant leap that I felt like I was participating in something off in the future, but I’ve somehow gained early access. It was a delightful.

Fast forward to today, and here I am still with my 1080p television, though it’s since grown to a lofty 58-inches in size. The 4K revolution is largely complete now - I don’t suppose you can even purchase a 1080p unit right now - yet I still do not feel a great need to upgrade; the incentives just aren’t there. Broadcast television still isn’t fully 1080p yet, and with Netflix you have to pay extra if you want 4K streaming. The next generation of gaming consoles from Sony and Microsoft touts 4K playability, but until there is a game to entice me to upgrade (such as whatever the next Grand Theft Auto will be), I’m quite okay with my original SKU Playstation 4.

It’s really easy to get used to something that once awed you immensely, to become bored with it and needing to chase after the next innovation to placate the human insatiability for novelty. This is how people get onto the endless hedonistic treadmill, feeling the need to keep buying news things. As an owner of a sports car costing in the six-figures, I totally get it, though I also gained the understanding that these shiny objects aren’t going to make us happy if we’re not at a base level happy to begin with. The increase in joy from achieving whatever newness is momentary and fleeting, and soon we’ll be back to our old normal, chasing after the next hit.

Owing a 911 hasn’t made me any happier than before, though that’s okay because that’s something to work on from within, rather than hinging on external objects or circumstances. I think it’s important to remember the initial joy when we first attained our nice things - like a sports car or HD television - to carry that burst of happiness through to the present. This exercise makes me grateful to have these things now, and how much I’d wish I did if that weren’t the case. That should be satisfaction enough.

The waiting game.