Something Is Changing in the Way People Eat at Home

Out with the kitchen(ˈkiCHən) table, and in with the couch(kouCH).

By Joe(jō) Pinsker

According to a recent survey(sərˈvā) of more than 1,000 American adults, the table is becoming a less and less popular surface to eat on. Nearly three-quarters(ˈkwôrdər) of those surveyed said they grew up typically(ˈtipik(ə)lē) eating dinner at a kitchen table, but a little less than half said they do so now when eating at home.

Where are they dining(dīn) instead? The couch and the bedroom are both far more popular now than in the respondents’(rəˈspändənt) youth(yo͞oTH). Thirty percent of the survey takers cited(sīt) the couch as their primary(ˈprīm(ə)rē,ˈprīˌmerē) at-home eating location(lōˈkāSHən), and 17 percent(pərˈsent) took meals(mēl) in the bedroom. To put it another way, the number of respondents who most often eat at a kitchen table nowadays(ˈnouəˌdāz) is roughly(ˈrəflē) the same as the number who eat either on the couch or in their bedroom.

Those figures(ˈfigyər) come from June(jo͞on), a company that sells internet-connected ovens(ˈəvən). As such, they should be treated with a bit of caution(ˈkôSHən), since they were likely published as marketing fodder(ˈfädər) rather than purely(ˈpyo͝orlē) in the interest of public knowledge. (The pool(po͞ol) of respondents was equally(ˈēkwəlē) split(split) between men and women, but probably wasn’t nationally(ˈnaSH(ə)nəlē) representative(ˌreprəˈzen(t)ədiv) in terms of other demographic(ˌdeməˈgrafik) factors.) Nonetheless(ˌnənT͟Həˈles), when I brought these findings to the attention(əˈtenCHən) of several food scholars(ˈskälər), all of them said that these patterns ring true—and, more broadly, that something seems to be changing in the way people eat at home.

…
https://www.theatlantic.com/family/archive/2019/05/meals-couches-bedrooms-kitchen-table/590026/

Nobody knows the future, so focus(ˈfōkəs) on what doesn’t change.

By Derek Sivers

At every music conference(ˈkänf(ə)rəns), with a panel(ˈpanl) of experts on stage, the moderator(ˈmädəˌrādər) always asks, “What’s the future of the music business?”

The guy selling video subscriptions(səbˈskripSH(ə)n) will say that videos are the future.

The guy selling intelligent(inˈteləjənt) playlists will say that intelligent playlists are the future.

When they ask me, I always say, “Nobody knows the future, and anyone who pretends(priˈtend) to know can’t be trusted(trəst).”

We have a desperate(ˈdesp(ə)rət) need for certainty(ˈsərtntē), so we want someone to tell us what’s coming. But it’s impossible. Nobody can possibly(ˈpäsəblē) know.

Besides, would it matter what anyone says? Realistically(ˌrēəˈlistik(ə)lē), what would you change about what you’re doing, day-to-day? Like if someone said, “Scented(ˈsen(t)əd) holograms(ˈhäləˌgram,ˈhōlə-) are the future”, would you start making them tomorrow? No.

Instead, forget predicting(prəˈdikt), and focus on what doesn’t change. Just like we know there will be gravity(ˈɡravədē), and water will be wet(wet), we know some things stay the same.

People always love a memorable(ˈmem(ə)rəbəl) melody(ˈmelədē). You can’t know what instrumentation(-men-,ˌinstrəmənˈtāSHən) or production style will be in fashion. So focus on the craft of making great melodies.

People always want an emotional(iˈmōSHənəl) connection. You can’t know what technology will carry(ˈkarē) that communication. So focus on the essence(ˈesəns) of how to connect with an audience(ˈôdēəns).

Writing lots of songs increases your chances of writing a hit. You can’t know which song will be a hit. So write as many songs as you can.

Instead of predicting the future, focus your time and energy(ˈenərjē) on the fundamentals(ˌfəndəˈmentl). The unpredictable(ˌənpriˈdiktəbəl) changes around them are just the details.

https://sivers.org/no-oracle

a brilliant(ˈbrilyənt) mind, a committed(kəˈmit) heart

Jamie(ā) Hysjulien(hī)

I sat(sat) in on a senior(ˈsēnyər) seminar(ˈseməˌnär) one time,
a brief(brēf) period(ˈpirēəd) of asking questions of the student
who was venturing(ˈvenCHər) a take on truth,
based on what they’d been studying
and what the student ventured as thesis(ˈTHēsis),

Jamie revealed(rəˈvēl) himself then:
a brilliant mind, a committed heart,
a devoted(dəˈvōdəd) teacher who joyed in the student’s
brilliant mind, committed heart, devotion(dəˈvōSH(ə)n) to truth,

as I sit outside now, it’s a perfect(ˈpərfikt) day
of deep blue sky, of brilliant late afternoon light
reveling(ˈrevəl) in the revealing of the oak(ōk) tree above,
just coming fully into its power,
like the student in the senior seminar,

how strange it feels to have the world around me
not reeling(rēl) from the loss(läs,lôs) of such a fine man:
a devoted partner, a devoted parent,
a doting(ˈdōdiNG) grandparent,
a colleague(ˈkälˌēg) who lifted(lift) more than his share
of students toward the light,

I imagine kid after kid becoming adult(əˈdəlt,ˈadˌəlt) after adult,
each coming more fully into the power within them
that Jamie helped refine(rəˈfīn) and release(rəˈlēs)
into a world that needs brilliant minds and committed hearts,
who know how to become and be,
in no small part because Jamie
saw them, loved them, helped them,

may each honor(ˈänər) Jamie with how well each
sees the world, sees themselves within that world,
and finds the ways to make a difference, for the better.

By Henry H. Walker

https://henryspoetry.blogspot.com/2019/04/a-brilliant-mind-committed-heart.html

Jeff Bezos Has Plans to Extract(ikˈstrakt) the Moon’s Water

The Amazon(-zən,ˈaməˌzän) CEO unveiled(ˌənˈvāl) a sleek(slēk)-looking lunar(ˈlo͞onər) lander—and he hopes the White House takes notice.

By Marina(məˈrēnə) Koren

Between the shipping and handling, the web servers, the groceries(ˈgrōs(ə)rē), and the newspapers, Jeff Bezos never stopped thinking about the moon. He was 5 years old when Americans first walked on the lunar surface, and he remembers the grainy(ˈgrānē) black-and-white footage(ˈfo͝odij) from that historic(hiˈstôrik) moment.

“It had a huge impact(ˈimˌpakt) on me,” Bezos said. “And it hasn’t changed.”

Bezos, in addition(əˈdiSHən) to leading(ˈlediNG,ˈlēdiNG) Amazon and owning The Washington Post, runs a spaceflight company called Blue Origin(ˈôrəjən). Blue Origin has been working on something for the past three years, and on Thursday, Bezos unveiled it: a giant(ˈjīənt) spacecraft(ˈspāsˌkraft) designed to touch down gently(ˈjentlē) on the lunar surface, plus a small rover(ˈrōvər) with droopy(ˈdro͞opē) camera eyes, like WALL-E.

“This is an incredible(inˈkredəbəl) vehicle(ˈvēəkəl,ˈvēˌhikəl),” Bezos said, beaming(bēm). “And it’s going to the moon.”

If this news seems like it’s coming out of, well, the blue, that’s because Blue Origin is not the flashiest(ˈflaSHē) company. It has conducted much of its work in secret(ˈsēkrit) and rarely(ˈre(ə)rlē) holds press(pres) events. But the company, Bezos has said, is “the most important work that I’m doing.” He spends about $1 billion on it each year, collected(kəˈlektəd) from selling off his Amazon stock.

So far, the work has stayed close to the ground. Blue Origin has carried out nearly a dozen successful flights of its New Shepard(shapərd) rocket(ˈräkət), named for Alan Shepard, the first American to go to space. The rocket hurtles(ˈhərdl) upward(ˈəpwərd) until it reaches the edge of space, then descends(dəˈsend) and lands vertically(ˈvərdək(ə)lē) on the ground. Bezos wants to use New Shepard to fly space tourists(ˈto͝orəst), perhaps as early as this year.

…
https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2019/05/jeff-bezos-moon-nasa/589150/

What Is Courage(ˈkərij)?

By Steve Pavlina

…

Courage is not the absence(ˈabsəns) of fear(fi(ə)r), but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.
– Ambrose(ˈamˌbrōz, -ˌbrōs) Redmoon

Courage is resistance(rəˈzistəns) to fear, mastery(ˈmast(ə)rē) of fear – not absence of fear.
– Mark Twain(twān)

Courage is being scared(ske(ə)rd) to death, but saddling(ˈsadl) up anyway.
– John(jän) Wayne(wān)

I like the definitions(ˌdefəˈniSHən) of courage above, which all suggest that courage is the ability to get yourself to take action in spite(spīt) of fear. The word courage derives(dəˈrīv) from the Latin(ˈlatn) cor(kôr), which means “heart(härt).” But true courage is more a matter of intellect(ˈin(t)lˌekt) than of feeling(ˈfēliNG). It requires using the uniquely(yo͞oˈnēklē) human part of your brain(brān) (the neocortex(ˌnēōˈkôrteks)) to wrest(rest) control(kənˈtrōl) away from the emotional(əˈmōSH(ə)n(ə)l) limbic(ˈlimˌbākə) brain you share in common with other mammals(ˈmaməl). Your limbic brain signals(ˈsignəl) danger, but your neocortex reasons that the danger isn’t real, so you simply feel the fear and take action anyway. The more you learn to act in spite of fear, the more human you become. The more you follow the fear, the more you live like a lower mammal. So the question, “Are you a man or a mouse(mous)?” is consistent(kənˈsistənt) with human neurology(n(y)o͝oˈräləjē).

Courageous(kəˈrājəs) people are still afraid(əˈfrād), but they don’t let the fear paralyze(ˈparəˌlīz) them. People who lack(lak) courage will give into fear more often than not, which actually has the long-term effect of strengthening(ˈstreNG(k)THən,ˈstren-) the fear. When you avoid facing a fear and then feel relieved(rəˈlēvd) that you escaped(əˈskāp) it, this acts as a psychological(ˌsīkəˈläjəkəl) reward that reinforces(ˌrē-inˈfôrs) the mouse-like avoidance(əˈvoidəns) behavior, making you even more likely to avoid facing the fear in the future. So the more you avoid asking someone out on a date, the more paralyzed you’ll feel about taking such actions in the future. You are literally(ˈlidərəlē, ˈlitrəlē) conditioning(kənˈdiSHən) yourself to become more timid(ˈtimid) and mouse-like.

…
https://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2004/10/the-courage-to-live-consciously/

Can I enjoy my vacation(vāˈkāSHən,və-) if I’ve left my cellphone at home?

By Heather(ˈheT͟Hər) Martin(ˈmärtn)

Standing at the Montreal(ˌmäntrēˈôl) train station, ready to board, I experienced a brief moment of absolute(ˈabsəˌlo͞ot,ˌabsəˈlo͞ot) panic(ˈpanik). Where was my phone? I turned my bags inside out, frantically(ˈfran(t)iklē) searching for that little magic square(skwe(ə)r). But I knew in my heart of hearts that, tragically(ˈtrajik(ə)lē), I’d left it in a different purse(pərs), one that was hanging in my bedroom closet(ˈkläzət). This sure knowledge(ˈnäləj) seeped(sēp) in. I was about to spend a long weekend in Toronto(təˈrän(t)ō) off the grid. No. Connection. Four. Days.

Even the most insouciant(inˈso͞osēənt, inˈso͞oSHən) and unplugged(ənˈpləgd) would feel a frisson(frēˈsôN) of alarm(əˈlärm): no text, no phone, no Google, no camera, no Instagram, no maps, no Uber, no e-mail. And that’s just the beginning. Depending on your apps, this list can be much, much longer. Just you and your thoughts, plus an old-fashioned book if you’re lucky. It’s what we might expect on some exotic(iɡˈzädik), far-flung(fləNG) vacation, but in Toronto? I’d be a foreigner(ˈfär-,ˈfôrənər) in the midst(midst,mitst) of a buzzing(bəz) metropolis(məˈträp(ə)ləs) whose main currency(ˈkə-rənsē,ˈkərənsē) is data.

As problems go, there are certainly far worse fates(fāt). This was but a small dent(dent) in my weekend visit with my sister, surely not worth the rising(ˈrīziNG) tide(tīd) of anxiety(aNGˈzīədē). Let’s face it: The loss(läs,lôs) of a wallet(ˈwälət, ˈwôlət) remains much more problematic(ˌpräbləˈmadik). But just by a hair.

Determined(dəˈtərmənd) to make the best of my lot, I decided this was an opportunity to record(ˈrekərd) a snapshot(ˈsnapˌSHät) of what this unplugged reality looks like in 2019; the highs, the lows, the boredom(ˈbôrdəm), the inspiration(ˌinspəˈrāSHən) – and the surprising(sə(r)ˈprīziNG) truth.

…
https://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/first-person/article-can-i-enjoy-my-vacation-if-ive-left-my-cellphone-at-home/

I.M. Pei, Master Architect(ˈärkəˌtekt) Whose Buildings Dazzled(ˈdazəl) the World, Dies at 102

By Paul Goldberger

I. M. Pei, who began his long career(kəˈri(ə)r) designing buildings for a New York real estate(iˈstāt) developer and ended it as one of the most revered(rəˈvir) architects in the world, died early Thursday at his home in Manhattan(manˈhatn,mən-). He was 102.

His death was confirmed by his son Li Chung Pei, who is also an architect and known as Sandi. He said his father had recently celebrated(ˈseləˌbrāt) his birthday with a family dinner.

Best known for designing the East Building of the National Gallery(ˈgalərē) of Art in Washington and the glass pyramid(ˈpirəˌmid) at the entrance(enˈtrans,ˈentrəns) to the Louvre(ˈlo͞ov(rə)) in Paris(ˈperəs), Mr. Pei was one of the few architects who were equally(ˈēkwəlē) attractive(əˈtraktiv) to real estate developers, corporate chieftains(ˈCHēftən) and art museum(myo͞oˈzēəm) boards (the third group, of course, often made up of members of the first two). And all of his work — from his commercial(kəˈmərSHəl) skyscrapers(ˈskīˌskrāpər) to his art museums — represented(ˌreprəˈzent) a careful balance of the cutting edge(ej) and the conservative(kənˈsərvədiv).

Mr. Pei remained a committed(kəˈmidəd) modernist(ˈmädərnəst), and while none of his buildings could ever be called old-fashioned or traditional, his particular brand of modernism(ˈmädərnˌizəm) — clean, reserved(rəˈzərvd), sharp-edged and unapologetic(ˌənəˌpäləˈjedik) in its use of simple geometries(jēˈämətrē) and its aspirations(ˌaspəˈrāSHən) to monumentality(ˌmänyəˌmenˈtalədē) — sometimes seemed to be a throwback, at least when compared with the latest architectural(ärkiˈtekCHərəl) trends.

This hardly bothered him. What he valued most in architecture, he said, was that it “stand(stand) the test of time.”

…
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/05/16/obituaries/im-pei-dead.html

The Downfall of Theresa(təˈrēsə, təˈrāsə) May, the Prime(prīm) Minister(ˈminəstər) Broken by Brexit(ˈbregzət, ˈbreksət)

By Tim Ross(rôs) and Alex Morales(məˈraləs)

At 10:11 a.m., a devastated(ˈdevəˌstāt) Theresa May walked back in through the black door of Number 10 Downing Street, with tears(ter) in her eyes.

Once inside, she thanked her staff who welcomed her with applause(əˈplôz) and then found her husband(ˈhəzbənd), Philip(ˈfilip). The couple went through to the prime minister’s private(ˈprīvit) study(ˈstədē) together for a few moments alone.

For May, 62, it was the end she had dreaded(ˈdredəd) but could no longer avoid. After three years battling(ˈbadl) the impossible contradictions(ˌkäntrəˈdikSHən) of Brexit, she was resigning(riˈzīn) as U.K. prime minister, defeated(dəˈfēdəd) at last.

As Philip, her closest(klōs) confidant(-ˌdänt,ˈkänfəˌdant) and most important adviser(ədˈvīzər), comforted(ˈkəmfərt) May in her moment of distress(dəˈstres), none of the aides(ād) or officials gathered inside No. 10 wanted to disturb(dəˈstərb) them.

In truth, they had known a day earlier that there was no hope left, and the prime minister famous for her stubborn(ˈstəbərn) resilience(rəˈzilyəns) would have to resign.

This article charts the final chapter of May’s undoing. Based on conversations with advisers, ministers, officials and others who asked not to be named, it reveals(rəˈvēl) how a cabinet(ˈkab(ə)nət) in disarray(ˌdisəˈrā) over Brexit policy(ˈpäləsē) finally came together to oppose(əˈpōz) the prime minister’s last desperate(ˈdesp(ə)rət) plan.

…
https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2019-05-24/the-downfall-of-theresa-may-the-prime-minister-broken-by-brexit

The Greatest(ɡrāt) Discovery(dəˈskəv(ə)rē)

Peering(pi(ə)r) out of tiny(ˈtīnē) eyes

The grubby(ˈgrəbē) hands that gripped(grip) the rail(rāl)

Wiped the window clean of frost(frôst)

As the morning air(e(ə)r) laid(lād) on the latch(laCH)

A whistle(ˈ(h)wisəl) awakened(əˈwākən) someone there

Next door to the nursery(ˈnərs(ə)rē) just down the hall(hôl)

A strange(strānj) new sound you never heard before

A strange new sound that makes boys explore(ikˈsplôr)

Tread(tred) neat(nēt) so small those little feet

Amid(əˈmid) the morning his small heart beats(bēt)

So much excitement(ikˈsītmənt) yesterday

That must be rewarded(rəˈwôrd) must be displayed

Large hands lift(lift) him through the air

Excited(ikˈsīdəd) eyes contain(kənˈtān) him there

The eyes of those he loves and knows

But whats this extra bed just here

His puzzled(ˈpəzəld) head tipped(tip) to one side

Amazement(əˈmāzmənt) swims in those bright(brīt) green eyes

Glancing(ˈglansiNG) down upon this thing

That make strange sounds strange sounds that sing

In those silent happy seconds

That surround the sound of this event(əˈvent)

A parent(ˈpar-,ˈpe(ə)rənt) smile is made in moments

They have made for you a friend

And all you ever learned from them

Until you grew much older

Did not compare with when they said

This is your brand(brand) new brother

This is your brand new brother

This is your brand new brother

https://y.qq.com/n/yqq/song/000EcCeH0lcCAE.html

What I Learned About Life at My 30th College(ˈkälij) Reunion(rēˈyo͞onyən)

“Every classmate who became a teacher or doctor seemed happy,” and 29 other lessons from seeing my Harvard class of 1988 all grown up

By Deborah(ˈdeb(ə)rə) Copaken(käpēkən)

…

No one’s life turned out exactly as anticipated(anˈtisəˌpāt), not even for the most ardent(ˈärdnt) planner(ˈplanər).

Every classmate who became a teacher or doctor seemed happy with the choice of career(kəˈri(ə)r).

Many lawyers seemed either unhappy or itching(iCH) for a change, with the exception of those who became law professors. (See No. 2 above.)

Nearly every single banker or fund manager(ˈmanijər) wanted to find a way to use accrued(əˈkro͞o) wealth to give back (some had concrete(ˈkänˌkrēt, ˌkänˈkrēt) plans, some didn’t), and many, at this point, seemed to want to leave Wall Street as soon as possible to take up some sort of art.

Speaking of art, those who went into it as a career were mostly happy and often successful, but they had all, in some way, struggled(ˈstrəgəl) financially(fəˈnan(t)SH(ə)lē, fīˈnan(t)SH(ə)lē).

They say money can’t buy happiness, but in an online survey(sərˈvā) of our class just prior(ˈprīər) to the reunion, those of us with more of it self-reported a higher level of happiness than those with less.

Our strongest desire, in that same pre-reunion class survey—over more sex(seks) and more money—was to get more sleep.

“Burning Down the House,” our class’s favorite song, by the Talking Heads, is still as good and as relevant(ˈreləvənt) in 2018 as it was blasting(blast) out of our freshman(ˈfreSHmən) dorms(dôrm).

Many of our class’s shyest(SHī) freshmen have now become our alumni(əˈləmnəs) class leaders, helping to organize this reunion and others.

Those who chose to get divorced(dəˈvôrs) seemed happier, post-divorce.

Those who got an unwanted divorce seemed unhappier, post-divorce.

…
https://www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2018/10/what-my-harvard-college-reunion-taught-me-about-life/573847/