Marking 10 years since signing off from radio

A station log dated Friday, May 20, 2016, is placed atop the control board for Northstate Public Radio in Chico, Calif. The log includes notes marking the author's last shift for the station.
A station log dated Friday, May 20, 2016, is placed atop the control board for Northstate Public Radio in Chico, Calif. The log includes notes marking the author’s last shift for the station.

Wednesday marked the 10th anniversary of my final “Evening Jazz” broadcast for KCHO, or North State Public Radio. Of all the things I did in my final days in Chico, this stands out the most as I look back a decade later.

Part of it might be because I’ve been listening recently to archived Jazz Fest broadcasts from WWOZ. Those sets have really satisfied my love for live music and the New Orleans sound. One day, I must get to NoLa (and London and Tokyo …)

That final broadcast wrapped up a student and community broadcasting tenure covering nearly 14 years — two at KSDT while at UC San Diego, four in Michigan for WMTU and about eight for KCHO. I started as a student disc jockey in San Diego and then volunteered to be a community DJ for WMTU student radio and was ultimately a community volunteer for the NPR member station in Chico.

I always liked the thought of my voice and music selections going out to a geographic area the size of Ohio. That was for North State Public Radio. The smallest footprint was probably going out over college dorm powerlines for KSDT (which was also available over cable in San Diego County, but you needed an adapter to filter out the FM signal).

From my earliest broadcasts at the Old Student Center to my final show in a studio by the banks of Big Chico Creek, I really liked the idea of using my shows to explore the world of music with the late focus on jazz and blues with “Evening Jazz” during the week and sometimes “Blues People” on Saturdays. I hope I was able to impart my joy at this course of discovery with listeners. It was always fun when they called in.

(A rare exception is when I went slightly off format for an April Fools’ Day episode of “Evening Jazz,” where I aired tracks with the artists’ names starting with every letter of the alphabet from A-Z. That led to an angry listener response to my programming director. The listener thought I was somehow being lazy — although finding ideal tracks from artists that followed the alphabet was actually more challenging than a regular show.)

All these years later, I still miss radio, but I think curling has taken over as my non-professional pastime. I still have the opportunity to get behind a mic when I do play-by-play commentary for regional curling tournaments, but it’s not the same.

There was just something enjoyable about getting to the station early to roam the tall shelves of CDs and vinyl to pull out discs that caught my ear. If there was time, I would put a disc in the CD player and listen to get a sense of what the album was about.

A selection of CDs pulled for possible play during an episode of "Evening Jazz" on Friday, Jan. 2, 2015, in Chico, Calif.
A selection of CDs pulled for possible play during an episode of “Evening Jazz” on Friday, Jan. 2, 2015, in Chico, Calif.

On a good night, I could pull out twice as many albums as I had time to get on the air. That doesn’t include listener requests that I would do my best to track down and broadcast, even if the song didn’t fit the flow of the show. However, what’s jazz without a little syncopation?

I did have my favorites,  but I hope that I didn’t overplay them. I did try to mix them up while also trying to rationalize that any particular track was just a couple minutes in a two- or three-hour program.

The final show

My last edition of “Evening Jazz” was pretty much all favorites, reflecting my years of spinning tunes. (The program had a stable of volunteer DJs, so the show continued after my departure).

As I recall, we were asked to arrive early to get ready to go on the air. Sometimes, I would arrive before this time and have a chance to focus on my musical selections. It was easier on Fridays when we often had a national program airing at 9 p.m. and I was only responsible for doing a couple of reads during that hour before hosting a two-hour local program.

For my final Friday (which had become a  three-hour show), I arrived close to on time but it was the end of a hectic last day at my day job (which I quit!) where my coworkers took me out to lunch and said good-byes. In between all that, I was trying to write stories and clean my desk. I ended up working through the weekend to get everything done.

When I arrived at the station, I asked the other person on duty if there was a way to record the program. I used to occasionally record the livestream at home, but the app had stopped working and I didn’t have time to find another solution.

Unfortunately, the staffer didn’t know how to set up the recording so my last episode would just exist on the airwaves. I was bummed but resigned to the reality of the situation.

I gathered the albums I wanted to play. I started the show with Kermit Ruffins’ “Hello Good Evening,” which was how I often began my “Evening Jazz” broadcasts before changing it up after a while.

As I went on the air, I went to sign the station log and noticed that there were personalized messages thanking me and wishing me luck. I was touched and reminded of how much my service was appreciated by the station staff.

My playlist, linked below, covered the various eras of jazz that caught my ear over the years. Some of them were standards, but some of them were novelty songs that made me laugh, such as “A Hot Dog, a Blanket and You.”

Ultimately, not all of the songs were five stars, but I wanted to play and hear every track that got on the air — and that applied to every broadcast I did. During breaks, I recalled some of my broadcasting history and musical journey going back to San Diego. I also reflected on some of my broadcast influences, including “The Desoto Hour” on Georgia Tech’s WREK and all of the broadcasts on WWOZ.

As my time on the air wound down, I picked out a couple of songs that I felt echoed the journey I was about to undertake to my new job in Utah. Those songs included Vince Guaraldi’s “Cast Your Fate to the Wind” and a Mo’ Horizons cover of “Hit the Road Jack.”

It was great fun spinning tunes, reading public service announcements while timing songs to ensure there was enough time to play the national anthem before turning things over to the BBC World Service at precisely midnight.

In a weird quirk, nearly all of my shows either marked the start of the station’s live broadcast day or the end. Broadcast stations used to air a patriotic song to mark either the start or end of the day. That was something I paid homage to, even as nearly every station moved to airing 24/7. In later years, I would often play a Duke Ellington version of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which I felt fit the jazz format.

Ultimately, I wish there was a way to convey the joy and contentment I nearly always felt during and after my show.

Ten years later, I would love to get back into broadcasting, but I don’t think I have the time with work and curling. There was a job posting for a classical music station in Arizona that caught my eye (and an operations manager post for a jazz station in Iowa), but they’re not something I can pursue right now.

Maybe one day.

Favorite quotes

Quotes from the film "The Big Lebowski" are displayed on a wall at Lucky Strike San Francisco on King Street in San Francisco on Saturday, Oct. 3, 2015.
Quotes from the film “The Big Lebowski” are displayed on a wall at Lucky Strike San Francisco on King Street in San Francisco on Saturday, Oct. 3, 2015.

Facebook apparently introduced an update recently that streamlines some of the info displayed on profiles. Unfortunately, it seems that the “Quotes” section was removed.

I don’t think many people used it (or viewed it), but I liked having a space for some words from inspiring people, like Asimov, Fey and Lincoln.

I also put one of my favorite lines on the space — “Curling is a game of sportsmanship and honor. Like golf … minus the cheating.”

Here are some of my favorite quotes that I used to have on the since-removed quotes page on Facebook —

“Curling is a game of sportsmanship and honor. Like golf … minus the cheating.” — Me

“If liberty means anything at all it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear.” — George Orwell (Unpublished preface to “Animal Farm”)

“So here’s some advice I wish I would have got when I was your age … Live every week, like it’s shark week.” — Tracy Jordan (“30 Rock”)

“Compromises are for lesser souls. Die, werewolf-zombie.” — Liz Lemon (“30 Rock”)

“With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation’s wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan — to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations.” — Abraham Lincoln (Second Inaugural Address)

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines! Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover!” — H. Jackson Brown (and NOT Mark Twain)

“Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent” — Salvor Hardin (“Foundation”)

“It is not possible to be in favor of justice for some people and not be in favor of justice for all people. Justice cannot be divided.” — the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.

“Spock, I’ve found that evil usually triumphs – unless good is very, very careful.” — Dr. Leonard McCoy (“Star Trek”)

“Never be cruel, never be cowardly. And never ever eat pears! Remember – hate is always foolish … and love is always wise. Always try to be nice and never fail to be kind.” — The Doctor (“Doctor Who”)

“Life is brief; fall in love, maidens” — translated lyric from “Gondola no Uta” (or “The Gondola Song”)

It isn’t always sunny in Vancouver

A view of downtown Vancouver, British Columbia, looking across Coal Harbour from Stanley Park on Sunday, March 22, 2026.
A view of downtown Vancouver, British Columbia, looking across Coal Harbour from Stanley Park on Sunday, March 22, 2026.

I visited the Pacific Northwest in March as part of a curling trip to Vancouver, British Columbia. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was prepared for it to be cool and damp.

My initial travel to the area from Seattle to Vancouver seemed to confirm my suspicions — there was light drizzle in Seattle and that seemed to continue when my train arrived at Pacific Central Station.

First impressions can be deceiving. After that first night back in Canada, there was nothing but sunshine and mostly moderate temperatures until I took the bus back to the grey gloom of Seattle.

Take a look at one of my early Vancouver photos and one as I was leaving four days later.

It was my first visit to Western Canada. Vancouver impressed me on nearly every level as a cosmopolitan city akin to San Francisco or Seattle with distinct and gorgeous landscapes from Queen Elizabeth Park to Stanley Park. They also seem to be big on rooftop patios and gardens, which I found to be delightful.

Despite my mostly positive impression, there were three events that reminded me that not everything is perfect. While one event may have been the result of long-term societal issues, I don’t view my experience as some sort of indictment against how the city or province are governed.

One was an indirect interaction on my last night in the city. I was on the hunt for some interesting seafood and I initially headed toward the east side of the city via bus before I realized I didn’t really want to go to that specific restaurant.

Seeking to head back downtown, I hopped off the bus on Hastings Street near Main Street and crossed the street to catch a westbound bus.

Hastings Street unfortunately had signs of abject poverty and homelessness that were largely absent in the other parts of the city I visited. The number of people apparently living permanently in tents on the street was to the point where I felt uncomfortable as nighttime fell. I would probably not want to bring friends or family without precautions.

I will note that no one approached me, so I can’t say how the people were. I was also briefly tempted to check out one establishment that was running a karaoke night.

On another day, I was waiting for a bus after visiting a currency exchange. As I was sitting on a bus bench while wearing a USA Curling ballcap, a man sat down next to me and very shortly thereafter asked “Why don’t you go back to the United States?”

My response was pretty simple: “I was invited to be here” for the curling event.

After that brusque introduction, the man reflected that he had dual citizenship between Canada and the United States but he didn’t have a U.S. passport. It also turned out that the mother’s side of his family was from northern Utah, and he seemed to harbor a little bitterness toward his late mother for bringing her family to Canada. I was sympathetic, especially as there are things that we would want to say to a loved one but couldn’t when they were alive.

Eventually the bus arrived and we boarded at the same time.

Given his other interaction on the bus (loudly asking if a bus pass he found belonged to anyone), this man appeared to be a little awkward in public but seemed harmless. I could envision myself in his shoes to a point.

The third incident that stood out was when I riding another bus (or maybe SkyTrain). A man in front of me sneezed about three times.

After the first time, I said “Bless you.” After the second sneeze, I said “You only get one,” in a dumb reference to a “Family Guy” joke that got a laugh once so I keep trying it from time to time. I said “Bless you” again after the man’s third sneeze.

However, the man didn’t seem comforted, repeatedly saying that it was “too late” for him. He sounded down, and I was at a loss for words.

While “Bless you” generally implies the invocation of God or similar deity, that was uncomfortable ground for me to stay on in my response to this person who seemed to be in need. While many faiths assert that it’s never too late to find salvation with their deity, I didn’t feel it was my place to make such a claim.

My response was something along the lines of “We can wish each other goodwill.”

That response seemed incomplete but it was the first thing that came to mind.

Even if one doesn’t believe in a superior being, I found it deeply sad for someone to believe it’s “too late” to find some sort of grace, acceptance, redemption or just peace in this world.

If I had a second chance to speak with this man, I would’ve said that it was never “too late” to find some purpose or fulfillment in life.

A couple of quotes bolster my line of thought, including Teddy Roosevelt saying “Far and away the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.”

The TR quote contains a certain amount of inspiring industriousness and bold purpose yet also underscores that the worthwhile work is a reward unto itself. On the other hand, it does seem incomplete given how important friends and family are.

The other example that comes to mind is an underlying thesis of “The Good Place,” a TV comedy that initially focuses on a woman named Eleanor Shellstrop who finds herself placed by mistake in a heaven-like afterlife and ultimately decides to work to earn her place with the help of her friends.

The TV series had many developments that shouldn’t be spoiled, so I will simply say that, during the third season episode “Jeremy Bearimy,” there was a point where Eleanor and her friends learned something that prevented them from making any further progress and would ultimately condemn them to The Bad Place, the horrendous-but-not-exactly-hell  final destination in the show’s universe.

Over the course of the episode, Eleanor and her friends have different reactions to this life-altering news. These reactions fall along different ethical theories including virtue ethics, consequentialism, deontology and nihilism. (Those theories are also explored in the nonfiction book “How to Be Perfect,” written by the series creator Michael Schur.)

Ultimately, Eleanor convinces her friends to accept that their fates are set, but they can work to do good and help their friends and families — whose fates haven’t yet been determined.

“Why not try?” Eleanor said. “It’s better than not trying, right?”

In his book, Schur goes into considerable detail about many ethical theories but reaches a conclusion in the coda in the form of a letter to his young children on using the wisdom from these ideas to make better decisions.

“Though their ideas vary widely, they’re all based on the simple concept that who we are and what we do matters,” Schur wrote. “That we should care whether we’re doing something good or not, and thus try to do the best things we can.”

Despite the book’s title, Schur acknowledges that people aren’t perfect but we can learn from mistakes, keep improving and do the best we can.

I know I’ve fallen short in a lot of things in my life, including trying to find words of comfort to someone in need on a bus or railcar. However, as long as I can keep trying (and have the wisdom to know I should keep trying), I feel like I’m moving in the right direction.

The future’s all yours, Boulder. Leaving the last Utah Sundance festival screening at 1:54 a.m., Feb. 2

A nighttime photo of the exterior of Broadway Centre Cinemas in downtown Salt Lake following the screening of "BURN," the final show of the Sundance Film Festival in Utah on Monday, Feb. 2, 2026.
A nighttime photo of the exterior of Broadway Centre Cinemas in downtown Salt Lake following the screening of “BURN,” the final show of the Sundance Film Festival in Utah on Monday, Feb. 2, 2026.

I originally posted this to Reddit on Feb. 2.

The Utah era of the Sundance Film Festival came a close just before 2 this morning following the final screening of the 2026 event — Makoto Nagahisa’s “Burn” at the Broadway Centre Cinemas. I snapped this pic leaving the theater.

I don’t think the screening sold out, but the house seemed close to full. Many in the audience were appreciative that these were the festival’s final moments in Utah, shouting “Thank you, Bob!” at the tribute reel and giving one last hurrah for the festival before the film.

The staff member introducing the picture acknowledged the moment and took a selfie with the crowd.

There wasn’t much pomp following the film, which I found to be quite engaging. I did say thank you to staff and volunteers on my way out.

Part of me was wondering if there would be more attention placed on these final moments, but it seemed fitting for things to end with the credits rolling and some audience members engaging in individual conversations on what they thought about the film.

Over the years, I was really only able to attend about two screenings a year starting in 2017 before taking a huge pause after COVID. I came back this year to see “Hot Water” and “Burn.”

I definitely appreciated all the creativity and spark the festival, filmmakers and other creators, volunteers, filmgoers, organizers and more brought to this state. I know showbiz is about business, but I enjoyed sharing this ongoing and joyous celebration of all things cinema as part of the decades-long effort to foster and grow independent film. Being at Sundance every year never failed to bring a smile to my face.

A lot of us will be parting ways as the festival moves to Colorado, while acknowledging that much of the institute’s work will continue in Utah.

Even as this chapter ends, there is excitement about Boulder. Several of the volunteers said they were planning on following the festival to its new digs. I’m not sure if I’ll make the jaunt over the Rockies to attend.

Just as all movies end, the Sundance festival’s time in Utah has faded to black. Unlike most movies, there will be a sequel.

So, farewell for now. We’ll meet again, I don’t know when but we do know where.

The future’s all yours, Boulder.

Celebrating the holidays with an ‘Evening Jazz’ Christmas playlist from 2013

A microphone is pictured in front of the control board in the main studio of KCHO Northstate Public Radio on May 20, 2016, in Chico, Calif
A microphone is pictured in front of the control board in the main studio of KCHO Northstate Public Radio on May 20, 2016, in Chico, Calif

Season’s greetings to one and all!

In all the years that I spun jazz and blues tunes as a volunteer DJ for Northstate Public Radio, I always enjoyed including holiday songs in my December playlists. Not wanting to overdo the festive tuneage all month long, I would start gradually after Thanksgiving with a song or two per episode and then gradually ramp up to a nearly all holiday song playlist in my last program before Christmas.

An example of this is my Christmas “Evening Jazz” episode from Friday, Dec. 20, 2013, as you can see in the provided playlist below from Spotify:

Thanks to an old playlist database that I saved, I was able to find the tracks from that evening to share in time for Christmas 2025. There are two song substitutions because Spotify didn’t have the tracks for “Feliz Navidad” by New York Latin Jazz All Stars or Al Jarreau’s version of “Celebrate Me Home.”

The 94-minute playlist for a 120-minute program is interesting to me because I didn’t think my breaks for song recaps, public service announcements and other continuity were too long, but it comes out to my speaking for about 11 minutes per hour (not counting the five-minute NPR newsbreak at 9:01 p.m.). Apparently, that’s slightly less time than the time used for shorter ad breaks on commercial radio. Although I would hope my information was more useful than ads, my focus was always on giving listeners the most music possible.

It was also a two-hour episode instead of the regular three as Friday shows began with a national program (like “Piano Jazz”). The shorter shows definitely pushed me to focus the playlist a little more.

This playlist reflects a moment in time as I tried to pick songs that I felt fit the season. Some of the tunes were newer and perhaps don’t stand the test of time but were selected because they sounded good to me in the moment or just to add some variety.

Other songs, like anything from “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” are standards or are variations on classic tunes that mixed things up in a fun fashion.

I also have some non-traditional songs that I like throwing into a playlist because they spark joy. That includes “Hanging Up My Stocking” from the Squirrel Nut Zippers AND the original version of the track performed by the grandfather of the band’s drummer.

Ultimately, the holidays are a time to share comfort and joy with the family and friends in our lives. I hope that this holiday music playlist brings a little light into your celebrations.

Parking lot possibilities in downtown Salt Lake City

The 2002 Winter Olympics Countdown Clock is pictured at the TRAX Arena Station on July 9, 2017. The station is feet away from Block 85 on South Temple, which was a key downtown site during the 2002 Winter Olympics and is scheduled to play an expanded role in the 2034 Games.
The 2002 Winter Olympics Countdown Clock is pictured at the TRAX Arena Station on July 9, 2017. The station is feet away from Block 85 on South Temple, which was a key downtown site during the 2002 Winter Olympics and is scheduled to play an expanded role in the 2034 Games.

Local news announced last week that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is planning to close and demolish the church-owned Plaza Hotel on South Temple near its Temple Square in downtown Salt Lake City.

The church stated several reasons for the pending closure and demolition, but one of the initial uses for the site will be additional parking for public tours of the Salt Lake Temple when renovations are complete by April 2027. Temple open houses — which provide public access to a site that’s ordinarily limited to the certified faithful — are usually well attended and I foresee the church needing that additional parking during the open house.

When this item was discussed on Reddit, many, many people took the opportunity to complain about the church and rue the decision to add even more parking in a downtown that doesn’t lack for public parking.

Many were candid and admitted that the current hotel is dated and generally not regarded as an architectural gem (although Hoodline called it “iconic”), but they would prefer the faded building over parking. A subsequent blog entry from a site focused on Salt Lake development pointed out that the church’s initial intended use of the property for parking may run afoul of city code.

I certainly sympathize with the complaints, but I think temporarily building a parking lot could ultimately lead to _adding_ green space downtown. However, we must be open to possible uses of downtown properties and having a constructive relationship with the church if my idea is to become reality.

The basic situation is that Plaza Hotel is roughly one block east of another church-owned property called Block 85. Block 85 is currently dedicated entirely to parking, which would appear to do well when the Jazz or Mammoth are playing at the nearby Delta Center or if there’s a big convention at the Salt Palace across the street (IIRC, it was used as outdoor show space for the Outdoor Retailer convention in years past).

Block 85 played a key role in the 2002 Winter Olympics — it was the medal plaza and a key hub during those Games. The space is set to come into play in the 2032 Games — it will again be the medals plaza, but will also be the site of the new-ish Big Air skiing and snowboard competitions.

When those Games are over, Block 85 should be upgraded into a lasting landmark celebrating the Olympics as a park and public space.

Most past Olympics hosts have a park or other green space celebrating the Games and being one of the few cities around the world to have hosted such an event. It’s unusual that Salt Lake City wasn’t able to create such a space after the 2002 Games, but there might be an opportunity with the pending demolition of the Plaza Hotel.

The church has not stated what its long-term plans are for the hotel site. Perhaps the church could be persuaded to build a parking garage on the hotel site. I would certainly argue that failing to create a park space may be a missed opportunity for all involved.

If a parking garage is built on the former hotel site, there shouldn’t be a need for a staggeringly huge parking lot on Block 85. In that case, I would hope that the church, the Salt Lake City government and local Olympics organizers could implement a plan to turn Block 85 into an Olympic park.

Block 85 is centrally located and adjacent to TRAX light rail. It’s also close to many important attractions, including Temple Square, the Salt Palace Convention Center and Delta Center (which Jazz/Mammoth co-owner Ryan Smith is envisioning as the center of an expansive … and expensive … entertainment district).

While it may be somewhat satisfying to bellyache about the short-term plans for the Plaza Hotel site, I hope that the public can appeal to those in charge to collaborate and take a decisive leap into reshaping two large downtown properties to create a unique and unifying community space.

I did the math to find how much Mary Poppins’ ‘Tuppence a Bag’ would cost in 2024

Several pigeons gather on a pier piling on the Sacramento River in Old Sacramento on Saturday, Feb. 2, 2013.
Several pigeons gather on a pier piling on the Sacramento River in Old Sacramento on Saturday, Feb. 2, 2013.

I don’t know if anyone else has done this, but I’ve attempted to calculate how much prices have gone up since it cost “tuppence a bag” to “Feed the Birds” from the Disney movie “Mary Poppins.” It was a bit of an odd journey given that I was trying to figure out inflation for a currency that changed pretty drastically over the past 114 years, but I think the math makes sense.

I’ve actually crunched the numbers twice over the years. The first time was when I was hosting “Evening Jazz” on Northstate Public Radio in Northern California sometime after 2011. As a volunteer DJ, I was spinning Kurt Rosenwinkel’s take on “Feed the Birds (Tuppence a Bag)” off of “Everybody Wants to be a Cat: Disney Jazz Vol. 1.”

While the song was playing, I wondered to myself what a tuppence was and how much it would be worth in modern times.

It took a while, but I crunched the numbers in between songs and came up with a number that I gleefully shared with listeners during a station break.

Fast forward to last month when I was browsing Threads as part of my social media move away from the site formerly known as Twitter. I came across a post from user andromedacat2016 noting that the original movie was set 53 years before its 1964 release and a modern version with the same time gap would be set in 1970.

The user wondered why that question popped into their head and I replied with my random question about the inflationary impact on the tuppence. Andromedacat2016 asked if I had figured it out, so I decided it was time to do the math again.

This is what I came up with —

So my best guess involved using a Bank of England inflation calculator to estimate how much inflation there was on the tuppence up to decimalization and then calculating the new pence inflation to the current year.

  • 2d in 1910 might be 16.12d (£sd) at decimalization in 1971.
  • Decimalization would convert that 16.12d (£sd) to 6.7 new pence.
  • From there, the 6.7p would grow to 82.3p today — really 83p, due to rounding.

Still a great deal for a bag of crumbs!

As I recall from my long-ago radio shift, I think my 2011 calculation came up with something around 72p. That’s a little higher than my current guess after recent inflation, but it seems to be close.

Attempting to solve this problem was fun but challenging for several reasons:

  1. In 2011, I wasn’t sure of the year that “Mary Poppins” was set in. Thankfully, I went with  Andromediacat2016’s date this time out.
  2. What the heck was a tuppence? It’s clear now that it’s a variation of “two pence,” but the old pounds, shillings, pence system (£sd) of British currency prior to decimalization in 1971 remains a bit baffling to me. (As an aside, it’s popped up on some 1980s British TV that I’ve watched, including the “Doctor Who” story “Remembrance of the Daleks” and the Britcom “Hi-De-Hi!” which is set at a holiday camp in 1959.)
  3. Before I could get to decimalization in 1971, I had to calculate an initial 61 years of inflation. While the Bank of England’s calculator goes back to 1209 (six years before the signing of the Magna Carta!), it only allows input in whole pounds. I may have gone off track at this point, but I started with a single pound to calculate the rate over 61 years and applied it to the tuppence.
  4. When I reached decimalization (and looked back on Decimal Day via the BBC), I needed to convert the £sd value to the modern system. While this may be another point where my math may have gone astray, I think it was relatively straightforward to convert the old pence where 240 pence equaled 1 pound to the updated system where 100 new pence equalled 1 pound. At least I wasn’t trying to convert shillings, florins and crowns to decimal.
  5. From there, it was back to the inflation calculator to determine how much change there’s been over the past 53 years (again being limited by the fact the calculator only allows input of whole numbers).

While I’m hopeful that my estimate is close, there may be factors I didn’t consider that I welcome someone knowledgable to point out.

It’s certainly possible I goofed somewhere. In its article on the song, Wikipedia apparently uses an inflation template to come up with £1.29 in 2023 pounds, and I’m more than a little curious about how it reached that number. Coincidentally, that figure is closer to my 2011 calculation (adjusted for 12 years of intervening inflation).

In the end, it’s fascinating to think about how money may have changed over time and how much things might have cost 114 years ago. Eighty-nine pence (or £1.29) doesn’t seem like it would go far today, and I wonder how much two pence in 1910 would help the woman after accounting for the cost of the bag and crumbs. Indeed, I think the bag would be the biggest cost without knowing how the woman obtained the bread or subsequently prepared the crumbs.

There’s also value reflecting on the message of the song — that of a beggar woman outside St. Paul’s Cathedral selling a frivolous item ostensibly to benefit pigeons, but it’s really charity to help the elderly woman. In one verse, the lyrics include the line “Their young ones are hungry, their nests are so bare/All it takes is tuppence from you.”

As we saw in the film (and can see in real life), it’s easy for some to turn away from those in need. I know that I don’t personally rise to the occasion every time, but hopefully the tragic beauty of a song such as “Feed the Birds” will push me to reconsider (or find other avenues to help).

When it comes to ground transportation, Amtrak flies over Greyhound

The lead engine of an eastbound California Zephyr train dwelling at Grand Junction, Colo., on Friday, March 6, 2020.
The lead engine of an eastbound California Zephyr train dwelling at Grand Junction, Colo., on Friday, March 6, 2020.

I’ve been spending more time on Reddit lately, as the discussions there seem more lively and engaging than what’s available on X/Twitter or Facebook (although Threads has been surprising me lately). As I surf the subreddits, I chime in from time to time.

Since many of these responses are geared to be informational, I figure it would be useful to reproduce them here. (I will also note that my musings get more views on Reddit, but I do enjoy keeping a blog after all these years.)

On the r/Amtrak subreddit, someone asked what was better — Amtrak or Greyhound? Considering that it was a train-focused forum, nearly all of the responses favored the train (although many don’t have rose-colored glasses and are more than willing to point out problems with America’s Railroad).

Passengers wait to board a Greyhound bus at the Oceanside Transit Center in Oceanside, Calif., on Tuesday, Dec. 27, 2022.
Passengers wait to board a Greyhound bus at the Oceanside Transit Center in Oceanside, Calif., on Tuesday, Dec. 27, 2022.

Here’s the bulk of my response:

All things being equal, almost any train including Amtrak is usually going to be a better experience than Greyhound/FlixBus. Amtrak is usually a pleasant journey with a few frustrations. Greyhound is usually an exercise in frustration that manages to get you from point A to point B.

Of course, this is a Amtrak subreddit, so responses will likely favor the train.

FlixBus/Greyhound has sold off most of their station buildings, so you’re often waiting curbside for a bus on initial departure or transfers — even in big cities. Amtrak has some of those stops but bigger cities usually have station buildings (which range from spectacular to merely serviceable).

The experience onboard the train is going to be a huge step up from the bus. While bus accommodations have taken a step up in recent years with Wi-Fi, power outlets, etc., most of those are also on Amtrak (Wi-Fi varies). On the train, it’s far easier to walk around and between the cars (while you’re usually stuck in your seat on the bus).

Trains have windows so you’ll be able to catch the sights. In the cities, you’re often seeing people’s backyards or the industrial areas of town. It’s definitely different from being in the No. 2 lane on a 8-lane expressway. Amtrak often shines outside of the city, as the train sometimes goes to areas hard to reach by car. In the west, Surfliner, Capitol Corridor and Coast Starlight run along the water in places and the views are spectacular (but it’s not along the entire route). Many of the Western routes, like Empire Builder and California Zephyr, have great views.

There’s often food aboard the train available for purchase in the cafe car. Long-distance trains often include a diner car with full meals (primarily for sleeper car passengers, but it’s sometimes offered to coach passengers). A bus will usually make meal stops, but it’s not really the same.

Many long-distance trains have lounge cars where people can relax, sightsee and chat with friends and strangers. The train is usually a better social experience — people who want to chat with others will usually be in the common areas, people who don’t are often back at their seats.

For both services, the nature of passengers can vary. Both services often serve cities that are inaccessible by other modes of mass transportation. Economically, the bus is usually cheaper and can draw passengers who need to save money. The train can have those passengers, but there are also people who are paying considerably more for sleeping accommodations (and may have higher expectations for their trip).

The nature of on-board staff can also vary. I really haven’t had either a bad Amtrak or Greyhound staff experience, but I’m sure that those are out there. With the bus, you’re usually just dealing with the driver, but Amtrak can have many more people — car attendants, conductors, cafe staff, etc.

The bus does have a bathroom, but I don’t know who would want to use it unless it’s urgent. The train bathrooms aren’t always top-notch, but there’s usually at least two per car including a larger accessible restroom.

I hope this helps. Good luck planning your journey!

My first head-to-head comparison between Amtrak and Greyhound was in Northern California. I needed to get from Chico to the Bay Area on short notice and I opted for the bus because it had the better departure time.

The bus got the job done but there was a long transfer in Sacramento at a crowded and aging depot building (that’s since closed after a new building opened north of downtown). When the train arrived in Oakland, the station building wasn’t in the best part of town and the building had clearly seen better days. That building has since closed and was being used for underground raves, according to The Oaklandside.

The return trip was slightly better, although the driver I think struck a sign and then was sideswiped by a vehicle in a left-turn lane. We had to wait for the police to take a report.

An Amtrak California bus loads passengers at the Chico train station on Saturday, Aug. 2, 2014.
An Amtrak California bus loads passengers at the Chico train station on Saturday, Aug. 2, 2014.

By comparison, the train was a vast improvement. There was only one train per day through Chico, but it was supplemented by three buses to connect with trains in Sacramento and Stockton. The transfers are timed, so you’re not waiting for a long time to board the train (although there’s some additional waiting time on weekends and holidays). Plus, if a train was late, buses would wait for it to arrive (the opposite is _not_ true, trains don’t wait for buses).

The stations were in better repair and the on-board experience was stellar with large windows, wide open seats and a cafe car for snacks and beverages.

In the bistro car with available food and drink on an Amtrak Cascades train en route to Seattle on Thursday, April 18, 2019.
In the bistro car with available food and drink on an Amtrak Cascades train en route to Seattle on Thursday, April 18, 2019.

That experience set the tone for most of my bus and train journeys in subsequent years, and I tried to prioritize travel on trains instead of buses.

Part of that may be due to the California state government subsidizing Amtrak services, including buses, to create a robust intercity transit network in the state. However, it generally works pretty well, even if they rely on buses to connect Los Angeles with Bakersfield and the Central Valley.

The other part of it may be due to the crumbling intercity bus networks. Greyhound was the bigger player, but they’ve since been bought out by Flixbus. Other companies have tried to enter the market, like Megabus, but they haven’t necessarily built much traction.

The Greyhound/Flixbus network has been getting a bit patchier with some potentially key routes getting the ax (like between Salt Lake City and Reno, Nevada) and others being outsourced to partner agencies. For example. Salt Lake Express handles Greyhound trips between Las Vegas and Salt Lake City.

Compounding the problem for passengers is that Flixbus/Greyhound has been leaving and selling many of their station buildings. That station in Oakland has been swapped with a curbside stop at the West Oakland BART station. That’s all well and good unless the weather’s atrocious or just darn hot/cold.

I saw some of this firsthand when I needed to travel from San Diego to Salt Lake City after the Southwest Airlines meltdown in December 2022. The train, even if it had been available, wasn’t a great option — I would’ve had to get from San Diego to Sacramento and then take another train from there to Salt Lake City. I’ve done similar routings before but it would take a lot of time.

Thankfully, Greyhound was an option, but it was a 21-hour schlep that included four buses. At one point, my first bus visited Los Angeles Union Station en route to Glendale. I waited for a transfer at Glendale … to go back to Union Station. I would’ve preferred to get off at Union Station (where I know a good restaurant or two), but I didn’t want to run the risk of having my reservation canceled due to not transferring at the correct station.

The journey wasn’t too bad, although it was long, the power outlets generally didn’t work and I wasn’t able to get much sleep. Plus we kept visiting train stations and airports offering arguably better modes of transportation.

Oh, the bus driver struck a stop sign in a darkened parking lot in Barstow. Hitting signs — a proud Greyhound tradition.

At the end of the trip, we arrived at Salt Lake International Airport — apparently the downtown Salt Lake Central Station was no longer the primary stop. In fact, it would’ve cost an additional $120 to take a shuttle from the airport to a curbside stop downtown … somewhere. Thankfully, my car was already at the airport, so I could just go home after the ordeal.

The Salt Lake Express bus stop at Salt Lake International Airport on Dec. 28, 2022.
The Salt Lake Express bus stop at Salt Lake International Airport on Dec. 28, 2022.

Ultimately, riding either the bus or train can be something of an off-beat adventure. I’ve struck up conversations with people on both modes of transportation, although it’s slightly easier to do that on a train when you can walk around. During the long trip home in 2022, I was able to use Google Translate to help guide a young man in Las Vegas that primarily spoke in Spanish.

Both are mostly safe, although there was one crowded Greyhound trip where I had to sit next to a man who seemed angry and twitchy, but nothing happened. (And, to be fair, I met someone traveling home on the train after being released from prison. He seemed fine, but I was a little cautious.)

While I would rather be on a train, the bus still has some appeal, especially when it came to last-minute travel that was often affordable and visiting destinations that aren’t frequented by plane or train. As routes and stations fall away, any possible allure of the bus fades and some of the ties that help bind us together as a nation weaken.

Utah’s new flag unfurled despite a ‘Heads, we win. Tails, you lose.’ petition

Utah's new state flag waves in the breeze next to the U.S. flag and a flag for Real Salt Lake at America First Field in Sandy, Utah, on Wednesday, June 7, 2023.
Utah’s new state flag waves in the breeze next to the U.S. flag and a flag for Real Salt Lake at America First Field in Sandy, Utah, on Wednesday, June 7, 2023.

Utah’s flag officially got an upgrade this month and I couldn’t be happier. The new banner features a large, golden beehive in a blue hexagon over three horizontal stripes representing the state’s red rocks, white mountains and blue skies. It succeeds the old design, which was primarily the state’s seal on a blue background — an approach emulated by about 23 other states. More on that later.

The new design had to survive a challenge from a relatively small group of unhappy residents displeased that the old design was being demoted (but not eliminated). Despite the group’s claims of erasure, the old flag remains the state’s historic flag and people can fly whichever flag they choose. Additionally, the state seal that the old flag is based on remains as-is.

The residents against the new flag twice attempted to gather enough signatures to force a vote, but fell considerably short of their goal both times. While I appreciate their democratic efforts, I felt the proposal would undo a compromise to keep both flags in favor of solely the older design. Hence why I called the proposal from Restore Utah’s Flag as “Heads, we win. Tails, you lose.”

The old flag would have survived as a state symbol no matter what, so they didn’t really have anything to lose:

  • Had the measure succeeded, the old flag would’ve been the sole flag.
  • Had the measure failed, the old flag remains an official flag in addition to the new design.

Truly a win-win for supporters of the old flag. Not so much for everyone else.

Had the proposal passed, the state would’ve lost out on what is arguably a better way to represent the state (in flag form).

With that said, the new flag probably wouldn’t have entirely gone away had the Restore Utah’s Flag effort succeeded and voters had excised the new banner as an official state symbol. Even before the new banner officially became the state flag this month, the design was becoming widely adopted. I’m fairly sure that the design would’ve thrived even without the state’s imprimatur.

My homage to the new Utah state flag depicts a curling stone as a beehive in a blue hexagon. It's part of a variation of the new logo of the Oval Curling Club.
My homage to the new Utah state flag depicts a curling stone as a beehive in a blue hexagon. It’s part of a variation of the new logo of the Oval Curling Club.

After the Utah Legislature approved the new design last year, I began thinking about ways to incorporate the banner in the team attire of the Oval Curling Club. Many sports uniforms feature the flag of the state or province they hail from (think of Baltimore Ravens and their embrace of the Maryland state flag in their logos).

My curling club is undergoing a rebranding and I took the opportunity to design a logo that incorporated the new Utah flag. I also designed a variation that depicted a curling stone as a beehive in the blue hexagon. I’ll be forthright here and note that the club’s members seem to prefer the original beehive version over the curling stone beehive.

I was honored when the club members voted for the designs to be the new logos for the club (more on that in a future blog post).

I wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity to incorporate the old flag into the club’s logo or uniforms. At most, it could’ve been used as a shoulder patch.

Challenging the new standard

Over the past year or so, it’s been interesting to see the arguments about why the new flag was a harbinger of the end of civilization and the only way to stave off this chaos was to have the old flag be the only official state flag. Every few days, I would search Twitter for “Utah flag” to keep up on the hyperbole.

Defenders of the old flag touted the difficulty in adjusting the design for other purposes as a feature, not a defect. They lamented that people jumped on the opportunity to remix the new flag design for fun or to make a point.

It has been popular since the new design was introduced last year to replace the beehive with another symbol, like a popular whale sculpture on display in a Salt Lake City roundabout. Others changed the flag colors to represent LGBTQ+ identities, which generated ire (although it must be pointed out that people could also put the old flag over a rainbow background or the like, but most never really bothered to before).

Expressing outrage at the possibility of a symbol being embraced and remixed by non-traditional groups was one of the tactics frequently deployed by proponents of the old flag. Other posts on social media asserted that the new flag (approved by the heavily Republican Legislature) was somehow Marxist or an attempt to erase history — which doesn’t make sense when the old flag still has official status.

Another argument was against the $500,000 cost for the new flag proposal (which has already been spent, to the best of my knowledge). It was primarily for outreach efforts — most of the flag replacement costs weren’t included in this figure because groups would simply get a banner with the new design when their old flags needed to be swapped out due to wear and tear.

A half million is a hefty sum for you or me, but it’s 0.0017% of the state’s $29.4 billion annual budget or about 14 cents per Utahn.

Speaking of costs, many heritage flag opponents ignored or justified the cost of running the petition for a public vote. Setting aside all the money and effort that the signature gathered expended, county agencies needed to spend money to verify petitions (which admittedly is part of their jobs).

Had a special election been called as it would’ve been under the original effort, the cost of that would’ve been in the millions (which is more than a half million). Spending millions to fight a half-million dollar expenditure seems like the textbook definition of cutting off one’s nose to spite one’s face.

Ultimately, I don’t have any reason to doubt the sincerity of the heritage flag proponents, but many of the arguments put forward seemed breathlessly disingenuous.

At the same time, some of the critiques of the new flag’s design seemed valid — appreciating design can be largely subjective despite efforts by flag enthusiasts to apply some objective guidelines (which some then try to apply far too rigidly). It’s kind of funny when some call the new flag as being overly corporate — many big corporations are deemphasizing logos in favor of quirky wordmarks.

Even if the new flag isn’t perfect, it certainly seems like an improvement.

The ol’ SOB (seal on a bedsheet)

Find the Utah flag among the state flags displayed in the warm room of the former Southern California Curling Center in Vernon, Calif., on Thursday, Jan. 20, 2022.
Find the Utah flag among the state flags displayed in the warm room of the former Southern California Curling Center in Vernon, Calif., on Thursday, Jan. 20, 2022.

Prior to the current flag fervor, I didn’t give too much thought to Utah’s flag. It was always a bit ho-hum and I never owned a copy of it. I did buy one once — as part of a fundraiser for the now-defunct Southern California Curling Center in Vernon, California.

The curling center had asked people to buy a flag to represent their state, nation or province in the new facility. I hesitated making the purchase — I didn’t particularly care for the flag, but I ultimately contributed because I wanted to ensure that Utah was represented at the unique sport facility just south of downtown Los Angeles. I was also supposed to get a curling center nametag with my name and the flag, but the facility closed before that came to pass.

At the time I was making the donation in 2021, there was buzz about changing Utah’s flag. There was a flag to commemorate the 125th anniversary of Utah’s statehood, but I was ambivalent about that design too — the banner was divided into red, white and blue quadrants that resembled an “X” underneath a circle featuring the beehive. It just didn’t work for me.

In any case, I donated for the old Utah flag and I told myself I would be happy to buy a new flag to replace it whenever that came to pass.

When I finally made my way to Southern California to visit the curling center in January 2022, I tried to spot Utah’s flag on the giant wall with all the flags. It took me quite a while to locate it, even after I figured out that the state flags were displayed alphabetically.

My inability to find Utah’s flag in the pack of U.S. flags underscored one of the biggest complaints of the historic flag — as a symbol that should clearly identify the state it represents, the Utah seal on a blue background didn’t do a very good job.

There’s so much meaning in the old flag – like HATU and 6981!

The central part of Utah's historic flag is shown backwards.
The central part of Utah’s historic flag is shown backwards.

Defenders of the historic flag often like to point out all of the symbolism in the design, such as a bald eagle, American flags, bees about the beehive and sego lily flowers (which apparently helped stave off hunger during the state’s pioneer era).

All of these symbols are well and good (and survive on the state seal), but it’s extremely hard to appreciate the symbology when you’re looking at a flag a hundred feet away. At such a distance, it’s easy to miss details — such as a mistake on the placement of the year Mormon settlers first arrived.

That error wasn’t officially fixed until 2011, or 89 years after the goof was first committed (basically the year 1847 was supposed to be on the shield, but the original text of the law was easy to misinterpret and the year was placed below the shield to appear as if it were behind it).

Also, writing on a flag is generally considered to be a bad idea (although there are always exceptions to this guidance, like California’s flag). Utah’s historic flag is an excellent example of this, as it will be seen as backwards about 50% of the time when it’s on a flagpole.

As much as one might draw meaning from the words “Utah” and “Industry” and the years 1847 and 1896, what meaning can be gleaned from “Hatu” or “Yrtsudni”?

Some historic flag defenders will point out that it doesn’t matter that people can’t pick out Utah’s blue flag among dozens of other blue flags — in Utah, it will likely be the only blue flag flying. I suppose that consideration may also apply to all the symbolism on the flag — it doesn’t matter if few people can see it well enough to appreciate the intricate details, it’s enough to just know it’s there.

At the same time, is it fair to ask the general public to automatically know, understand and appreciate all the old flag’s intricate symbols when they’re difficult to make out at a distance?

Demanding a flag plebiscite when it had never been done before

Wrapping things up, I found it fascinating to see some demand a public vote on the new flag. I wasn’t necessarily opposed to the idea (despite the format heavily favoring the heritage flag), but insisting that the vote was absolutely necessary for a state symbol seemed to be a bit too much.

Some heritage flag supporters asserted that a public vote had been promised, but that isn’t my recollection of the process.

The state flag has been changed repeatedly over 121 years. (Utah didn’t really have a state flag for the first quarter-century of statehood, and early flags were typically one-offs until around 1921, according to a very thorough Deseret News article on the history of the state flag.)

There was never a public vote on any of the changes.

Also, Utah has 28 or so official state symbols. To the best of my knowledge, there has never been a plebiscite on any of them. As a curler, I demand a recount on making skiing and snowboarding the official state winter sports.

Many of the state’s symbols were adopted by the Legislature when school groups appealed to them to make the change (often as part of a lesson on how laws are passed at the state level).

In that regard, the new state flag has also provided a civics lesson — even if some people weren’t exactly civil about it. Having two state flags that residents can choose to fly was probably the best outcome of this process.

Both will be likely used more often than many of Utah’s other symbols, including the official state tartan.

Hoist with my own petard … an ongoing series

The karaoke crowd at Paxton Pub in Salt Lake City on Saturday, Feb. 10, 2024.
The karaoke crowd at Paxton Pub in Salt Lake City on Saturday, Feb. 10, 2024.

When I conduct an interview for my job, I generally use courtesy titles such as mister or miss unless the subject tells me it’s OK to use their first name. I don’t want to be overly familiar with people unless I’ve given permission to be less formal. (That said, my stories follow Associated Press style where the courtesy titles are omitted in most situations.)

That sort of came to bite me on the rear about a month ago as I was leaving a karaoke night at Paxton Pub in Salt Lake City. While I was walking outside to my car, I said good night to a younger woman on the patio.

“Good night, sir,” she said, or something like that.

Suddenly, I felt positively ancient.

I’m not used to being called “sir.” That applies in nearly all contexts, but especially in a social situation like a karaoke night. At the same time, I must acknowledge that I’m among the older people at such events these days.

I wondered if this was a feeling that my interview subjects had. After all, I’ve been using courtesy titles while conducting interviews throughout my professional career — including when I was the younger man.

While I’ve always strived to be professional, courteous and respectful, maybe people were put off by my use of courtesy titles.

I don’t think I’m going to change my practice. I just hope that it properly conveys the respect and professionalism that I’m working toward.

And when I’m on the other side of such honorifics, I hope I have the grace to casually wave it off and politely say that it’s totally fine to call me Ryan.