The West Coast: Land of Coffee, Sushi and the Outdoors

March 7, 2014

I tried the same fast-paced travel formula through the hills and valleys of the “West Coast”. It led me first to Calgary, Vancouver, Seattle and Portland, and later to San Francisco and Los Angeles. Many of these cities I had previously visited but I went back with a new lens.

The West Coast is filled with stereotypes (“techie”, “bougie”, etc.). Start with coffee. By an objective analysis, the West Coast has far surpassed the European institutions of old. Each of the West Coast cities have its own spin: the original Starbucks in Pike Place Market, Seattle, or the famous Stumptown roasters of Portland, or 49th Parallel in Vancouver, whose beans are used by most uppity cafes in Canada. Calgary, by one count, has the most cafes per capita.

The West Coast is “outdoorsy”. The best skiing in the world are two hours out of Vancouver; a web of bike lanes turn Portland into the most rider-friendly city in the world. And, of course, there is the far-too-touristy bike ride over the Golden Gate Bridge.

The West Coast is filled with culture. Los Angeles is particularly strong with the unfinishable LACMA (with its iconic lamp posts) or Huntington Library Gardens or the Getty museums. In quite an ugly and material city, there is more than enough beauty and art to witness. Vancouver has its first nations art, Seattle has Chuilly’s glass works and Portland has a Samarai display. The highlight of Napa, other than the wining and dining is the di Rosa exhibit, curated by a rich winemaker who decided to go shopping. The exhibit is accessible only by tour.

And finally, there is the food. And the West Coast has effectively adopted the entire dictionary of culinary buzz-words: organic, local, gluten-free, vegan, and so on. It takes its food seriously but not in a pretentious manner. In the last best restaurants report in the US, about half came from the West Coast. Run-down cities like Portland (which has one of the highest unemployment rates) are unknown food capitals. Here, masterly food is served in forgettable diners.

Cultural food is also booming. It is through these parts that sushi hopped onto the new world and became a staple of North American diet (e.g. “California Roll”). The most unique experience of the trip was Pok Pok, a surprisingly good Vietnamese restaurant serving messy meals and drinking vinegars and with Viet music pumping. In Vancouver, there is apparently the best Indian food outside of India. Another trend is Asian fusion. At newly minted Carino, Calgary, Japanese mixes with Italian and in The House, San Francisco, with French. Deep in druggie territory, Pidgin (Vancouver) mixes with Asian with pretty much everything. Aziza in San Francisco spices it up with Moroccan inspiration.

What to do in 36 hours

Vancouver: Go skiing and/or rent a bike to circumnavigate Stanley Park. Take a train straight to Richmond for some dimsum or bubble teas. Do a customary coffee run to 49th Parallel or market hopping through Granville island and North Vancouver. Take an adventure to the unruly parts of town and dine on fried chicken at Pidgin.

Seattle: Start at pike place market, and feast on cheese curds and drink spiked ginger beers and Starbuck’s original coffees. Take a boat ride at The Centre for Wooden Boats. Finish with geoduck sashimi and dinner at Sitka and Spruce near Melrose market. $30 rush tickets at the symphony.

Portland: Rent a bike and go to Pok Pok for some authentic viet food. Go beer / coffee / tea tasting. Take a look at the Portland Art Museum. Have a four-course vegetarian meal at Ava Genes. If you can squeeze it in, the food trucks are worth a detour too. Get some really inexpensive books at the largest bookstore in the world – Powell Books.

San Francisco: Go to lunch at a pretentious place installment called Boulevard and have a large ball of mozz on a bed of risotto. Bike around the embarcadero and you will reach the Palace of Fine Arts, made for a world exhibition in the early 1900’s. Like most of the city, it is taken straight from Europe. Then bike across the golden gate bridge and loiter in Sausalito before a ferry takes you back to mainland. Bike down Valencia street, where street lights are calibrated for bike-speed. Have a steak encrusted with Morrocan spices at Aziza. $30 rush tickets to the SF Symphony.

Los Angeles: Have a plate of fresh sushi at Shunji. Rent a car and prepare for art-galore. Go to the LACMA (with its iconic lamp posts), Huntington Library Gardens and the Getty museums. Make a reservation in advance to Alma have the best meal for $65 you will find (closed). End up at the observatory to get a look at the Hollywood sign, the city, and (if it’s dark) the crevices of the moon.

Best Restaurants (4 or 5 stars)

On Life and Death

May 12, 2013

I was going up from the school canteen, desperately searching for Internet. I needed to fulfill some meaningless task: paying a bill, booking a restaurant, I forget. It was one of those hectic inter-trip days filled with boring classes and droning itinerary-planning that take away from the pleasures of exchange. I was hardly calm. It was hardly serene. The skimpy Internet finally showed up as I climbed to the third floor.

I might have been expecting an email, but I received the one I didn't want. I re-read it another time and double-checked the sender. It was a one-liner, like a caption of a cartoon: unexpected, thought-provoking, offensive. It said so much yet so little. It raised more questions than it answered. I reserved my emotions.

Anyone familiar with these types of ailments will know the number matters. What stage, what grade. One in a thousand, apparently, but that wasn't the probability I wanted to know. I quickly called her and was met with an overriding nonchalance I took to be a sign of gravity, of dealing with the situation. It would have been easy to blame the system which seemed to have missed the signs years ago, but even with that there was restraint. I myself settled on clear-headedness until the numbers were known. There is no point despairing over the unknowable.

For the entire time, messages like "Hi David" scared me to death. I took refuge in silence, of unknowing. Breaking it was facing the truth, like a ringing phone after an interview. The false alarms are so foreboding.

One such conversation was grave. An instruction from him to oblige any of her phone calls. I read the tea-leaves correctly. They thought it had spread, according to a scan; the number then would be 4. I started thinking about the Obit, like the finale of The Economist. It might have read like this article.

But I didn't start writing. It was a false alarm.

Now, risks of recourse seem low. This is my exceedingly composed reaction to trauma. It is composed because of my characteristically blunt approach to life: people die. The discount rate in life is much too high to spend it doing things as means to ends. Long-term goals are overrated because you might not be alive.

Intelligent Life: a magazine you have to read

April 14, 2013

It caters to the business-savvy crowd that devours The Economist, its sister magazine, like soup. It itself is more like dessert: infrequent, inessential but hopelessly yearned for. The Economist explains what keeps us alive (and wealthy); Intelligent Life explores what we live (and work) for. This two-monthly publication is a British version of The New Yorker; it is easier to digest and more practical to read.

Intelligent Life explores culture. But it is relevant instead of artsy-fartsy. In the past few issues, the opening of the Ritskmuseum, Amsterdam, (which I despairingly missed) and a op-Ed on les miserables (which I just read) made appearances. Pages are lined with short articles on food, music, fashion, museums - all the trimmings of haute-couture but it manages not to be stuffy. Then, longer 5000-7500 word feature articles explore pointless but reassuring articles. Precisely, they reassure us that there is more to life than work.

For the shrewd businessman (and businessmen-to-be, I.e. you), this publication is a fast-acting culture pill that is easy to swallow. Furthermore, the writing exceptional. The editor's note is not some contrived attempt at uniformity and self-promotion. It actually explains who wrote the articles and why they were chosen; avid followers of The Economist will be surprised that real names are used rather than those of famous thinkers or conquerers. And every article flows in prose and will delight any sesquidilianist. While the economist focuses on clarity of expression, Intelligent Life focuses on delivery.

I have said many times that The Economist should be required reading before interviews and dates. I was joking about half that statement, though that was before I found out about Intelligent Life.

Homesick.

April 2, 2013

I am on the last leg of my exchange so my proclamations are bittersweet. Exchange has both raised and dampened spirits to the extremes but the aggregate result is decidedly positive. Under no alternative scenario through time and space would this adrenaline-pumped experience have been possible and for that I am deeply grateful. I have not earned this luxury so I receive its benefits in complete modesty.

But the grass is always greener and so my relaxing weekend in my new mother-country (my first weekend in France since my weekend of arrival, and therefore the first weekend I have not had to scurry around in search of a sim-card on my phone) and its awe-inspiring views of the cote d'azure have reminded me of the equally beautiful home I've left behind (minus the CN tower perhaps). Whether it be the Canadian flag waving confidently in front of the Fairmont Monaco or the Canadian-accented sommelier at wine-tasting or the badges of Canada Goose - they all induce the strongest fevers of homesickness. But more than anything is the headstrong and unpretentious food of Toronto.

In many ways it is more successful than Paris. not by Michelin stars, certainly, but Toronto has opened over a thousand restaurants in the previous year, a pace matched by only a few cities in the world. In gastronomy, Paris is a white dwarf and Toronto is a new-born star. Both have their own redeeming qualities.

Toronto life just published its top 10 new restaurants of 2013. Despite my restaurant hopping across the corners of Europe (today I go to Cage sur Mer, a no-name train stop en-route to Cannes even the most alert travelers would miss completely for some simple seafood in the retiring outfit of a well-decorated Michelin star chef) at a rate of a few Michelin stars a week, I am hopelessly homesick and wanting some Canadiana cuisine. The food in Europe is always intricate and well laid-out. But they are rigorous in place of fun; Torontonian eateries on the other hand are always exciting, from the innovative 10-courses at Shōtō to the sharing plates underneath at Daishō to the family run hole-in-the-walls like Edulis to the feel good esprit of Hopgood Foodliner (all top 10 in 2013).

Despite my efforts to stay on top of Toronto's food scene (I am a top 50 blogger on Urbanspoon) all but one eluded me. Of course that simply means a lot more to go around this summer.

And by some twist of fate my dealings with the perennially bureaucratic and top-heavy organization that is COMSOC have reminded me of Queens and Kingston. I surmise that Queen's Global Markets, the new darling of COMSOC (ratified this year) is the fastest growing committee by reputation. If anyone were to compare the club today with that of a few years past, it would be impossible to recognize. Luckily, I am the only remnant of those hard days and thanks to the previous cochairs, the new offspring which is QGM has a stellar cast and an admirable position in an overpopulated space. We asked some ridiculous questions in the interviews (ranging from Giffen goods to growth rates in random countries to Michelin star figures) but candidates surprised us over and over again. I look forward to the opportunity to working with everyone to continue the committee's ascent next year.

Three more trips and then it is over. Then, a whole new adventure to come.

Misalignment of rewards, the root of all evil

January 27, 2013

My day in London ended in a subway station (“the tube”). A woman approached me asking for change; I tried my best to help. I had 4£ ($6) in my pocket that I pulled out when I realized she was really a beggar. Yet I was not fazed. I had retracted some pounds from my tip at dinner because the Indian buffet had a completely ludicrous policy against changing plates between courses and thought the change would be better suited in the coffers of a mendicant. How wrong I was. After giving her all my change, she asked me for more. I explained to her that I only had bills to which she said she could give me change. She pulled out a handful of random sized coins that I am unfamiliar with, but probably added up to not much. It was clear my 4£ donation was already the most generous of the night. But as with a PhD in organizational behavior she knew that her foot was in the door and I might be converted to donate more. But as fun as learning the British coinage system sounded, I am far too much of a millennial for a pocketful of change. I politely declined. She gave me a rather disappointed and slightly malicious look as she was leaving, proceeding to pester other tubers. The next victim simply said no and was left in peace. Somehow, I felt bad. I had done a good thing and yet I am sure I felt worse than my successor who simply said no. If justice prevailed perfectly, there would be no evil. But because sometimes doing a good thing leads to disappointing results, that good is often never done.

Random Walk: Behind the Name

January 3, 2013

I have added a link to the "About this Blog" page. It links to the extended essay I wrote in grade 12. It concerns a random walk, a stochastic process but it is not a markov chain. That is to say, direction matters. Unlike a markov chain, future events are dependent on past events. This is a different Random Walk than the "Random Walk down Wall Street" because of this distinction.

Link to my paper.

The Greatest Tragedy Everyone Faces

January 1, 2013

Perhaps the greatest tragedy of life is to hit the ceiling. It happens to everyone many times, each with diminishing effect. Ice cream has been eaten, beers downed, videos posted on Youtube, parents and society blamed, revelations made and life rethought. This might be the root cause of mid-life crises, of low self-esteem, of chronic misery and of god-seeking. It might be the reason happiness declines after 26 and only recovers after 48. Life might be reduced to series of filters in a funnel. University is such a filter. Mostly every one of your and my friends have made it past this filter but for many (including myself, perhaps), this is the ceiling. There are other parallel competitions or conciliation prizes but they are largely a function of reduced expectations.

I felt the ceiling when I couldn’t make sense of English or French in high school despite all my best efforts. I might have felt so after writing the ludicrous COMM 341 exam, but I found a reasonable entity to blame for that shenanigan. I reread my Theory of Knowledge essay I wrote in grade 12 and found no difference in my writing style or my thinking. I might not have advanced intellectually since high school (though I have advanced in other ways, arguably).

The following consideration is that of causality. To the “nature” crowd, I should simply make peace with my ceiling. To the “nurture” bandwagon, something can be done: a change in environment, for example. Unfortunately, I am predisposed to stride with the “nature” crowd. This is a fairly defeatist attitude that engenders no optimism and provides no solace for those coping with the ceiling. It also probably ascribes too much importance to pedigree and luck. But why do boys outnumber girls in the top 0.01% of SAT Math Scores three-to-one, if not because nature? (I am proud to announce that I helped my fellow gender-men shift that ratio ever so slightly up, though I made a rather large fool of myself in the other subjects).

The nurture argument has its proponents too. IQ scores have been rising and women are making grounds on men. The true answer is nature and nurture. But I am a strong proponent of declining marginal benefit, an economic theory that applies effectively everywhere. Work (cost) is worth it when it is outweighed by the benefit. But after a certain point, the marginal benefit of work dips so low that pursuing the benefit only causes dissatisfaction. This is the ceiling I speak of. Many people who hit it work tremendously hard and hardly see results; they have mental breakdowns. To pass this ceiling depends on nature.

There might be a lot of ceilings in life but only a few are important. As life progresses, there are fewer things you excel at, and even fewer you are definitively better than your peers at. This creates a rather monomaniacal desire to improve on these few redeeming qualities that they become the sole proponent of your self-worth. The “nurture” camp will argue that it is this accumulation of effort and time (10,000 hour rule) that makes someone great. Unfortunately, time is a scarce resource and 10,000 hours are hard to come by. So one day when you hit the ceiling on all you might consider important, you cannot fathomably focus on something else.

Sports players hit such ceilings early on in their lives. Tiger Woods, certainly; and Jeremy Lin, most probably. Very few can achieve anything worthwhile after their pro-sports careers. Actors fall to the same early ceiling in glamorous Hollywood and postpone it with botox.

Of course, there might be people who never hit the ceiling in their respective fields and there might be people who find a new, pristine ceiling but these are the outliers.

FY2012 Year in Review

December 30, 2012

2012 was a defining year. Early on, I was a rejected wretch. But then I regained full form with a 12th hour offer for a summer internship. I increased my popularity with 101 more friends on Facebook and launched this blog (which now has over 12,000 hits). I traveled to China, Whistler and New York. I “won” a stock simulation in Montreal. I completed a 4-month internship with ONCAP that spurred my choice to sign with CPPIB for next summer. I performed a Keg stand and my flip-cup odds were revalued. My heart jumped briefly. My tutorials company had a record-breaking year. And I stayed out of any prolonged affair with misery.

Elsewhere, 2012 was the year of elections and of debt redemptions. It was painfully unproductive for developed countries and a troubling one for developing ones. Revolutionary fervor spread across the Middle East. Advancements were made in physics and dice games. Les Misérables celebrated its 25th anniversary with a film. And the world did not end.

The Commerce Education

December 15, 2012

The Queen’s School of Business is of the two best business schools in Canada. I have no doubt it has brought out the best in me. It has proved to be a prudent choice for my undergraduate studies. At the end of my first year, I had the choice to transfer to Brown University if not for the Ivy League name, then perhaps for Emma Watson. But I chose to stay with Queen’s for its strong recruiting opportunities, for the unique extra-curricular experience, and for my friends.

Today is effectively the end of my third year at Queen’s. In the last five days, I wrote four exams and taught two QUIC tutorials. There is but one exam more in the off-distance. My laundry basket is overflowing in anticipation for the parental unit parade. My piano is undusted and singing again. Christmas and Paris has never seemed closer. But as happiness builds in anticipation, the far-future again comes as foreboding. This year, I will decide whether to pursue post-undergraduate studies in the field of mathematical finance.

On Thursday, I wrote the STAT 455 exam. This is the hardest course I have ever taken and therefore, there was much self-affirmation to be accomplished. I needed to believe I will succeed in mathematical finance. Stochastic Processes is a branch of probability concerned with randomness in time. A Random Walk, for example, is a stochastic process. I entered the Grant Hall with as much determination as ever and left unresolved. I returned home and modelled the problem on EXCEL (with YASAI); I have never been so happy to see a Poisson distribution (4b). I might have let out a barbaric yawp.

A queuing question casually made an appearance (Q3). It extended the single-server model of COMM 341 by modelling in a probability that customers facing a longer line are less likely to join. There are no formula sheets. The problem is to derive the formulae.

To do this is not simple but it was the simplest question on the exam. To focus on understanding concepts instead of plug-and-chug arithmetic is rewarding. For one, formulae need not be memorized. Assumptions are thoroughly considered. Finally, it is broad and wide-ranging in scope. And that is the chief criticism I have of Commerce education. What we learn is almost exclusively a special case, i.e. a star in the night sky. One clearly overshadows the other. It all makes what we learn in Commerce a bit frivolous.

In the last month, I had the pleasure of meeting the creator of http://qcumber.ca/ and a diverse group of students from other faculties. We played the ubiquitous exchange game called Contact and words like “Realpolitik” and “Carthage” made appearances. What a refreshing change from “Franklin Templeton”. Commerce was a resoundingly positive decision. And these experiences propel me to seriously consider something similar but a bit different.

A comprehensive definition of happiness (part 1)

November 25, 2012

In this article, I improve on my previous attempts to define happiness. I am convinced that happiness is reconciliation between expected and actual results. However, the relationship between the two has been ill-defined. But, let us try.

For simplicity, we will assume there is a linear relationship. That is, happiness is exactly the difference between expected and actual results:

ϵ=Y-X

Here, ϵ is happiness, Y is actual results and X is expected results. Taking Y to be a function of X (since Y happens after X)

Y=X+ϵ

This gives an equation for a linear regression through the origin with beta = 1. Happiness is the error term. Three conditions must hold. ϵ must be normally distributed, be independent sample-to-sample and have constant variance. These are mostly reasonable. For example, constant variance verifies that people of all income levels are similarly happy. Independence sample-to-sample means day-to-day variations can be rocky, another generally accepted consequence of life. That ϵ is normally distributed, however, is less substantiated. Kurtosis (fat tails, i.e. bi-polar) and skewness (like the perennially disappointed French) are likely characteristics of happiness. However, for ease of analysis, we will assume ϵ is normal.

Implication 1: The goal should be the decrease standard deviation. Which graph would you rather have?

σ = 10, μ = 0

σ = 50, μ = 0

Implication 2: Learn to predict results more accurately

σ = 10, μ = -10

Overly-optimistic predictions result in unhappiness

σ = 10, μ = +10

Overly-pessimistic predictions result in happiness

My Paper Published in Mathematics Magazine

November 4, 2012

My paper entitled “Skunk Redux” on probability was published in the October 2012 edition of Mathematics Magazine. I am pleased to announce it is the most-read math magazine and is consistently used as reference in upper-year math courses. But the tangible benefit is of course that I am now searchable on JSTOR.

The question I deal with is familiar to anyone taking Math 111 - Linear Algebra. It is by far the most relevant and accessible mathematics course at Queen’s, not least because of Peter’s tireless commitment to pedagogy (Dr. Peter Taylor is the co-author). In Skunk, a pair of dice is rolled again and again until either you choose to sit or at least one 1 comes up. If you sit, your payoff is the dice sum of all your previous rolls. If at least one 1 comes up while you are still standing, your payoff is zero.

It is not a difficult article to read. Everything is elementary. It contributes nothing to mathematical lore and pales in comparison to the other articles in the magazine. I make tangential comments about risk-taking (“It took some willpower not to allow my emotions to steer me toward the standard freshman crowd—the eternal optimists who luckily see the world as their oyster, untainted by the rationality I sometimes wish I could do away with”) and bad habits (“Peter started rolling the dice on that first day of class. As usual, I did not bring anything to class, not even a calculator, so I had to ballpark it.”) True mathematicians will be turned off.

The paper links my undergraduate career from the first day of class, through the disenfranchising inaugural year when I sought refuge in the mathematics department to compensate for my failures in Commerce, to the otherwise miserable summer of 2011 when the paper was officially accepted, to the current quandary of what role mathematics will play in my career.

Mathematics is the most elegant of all disciplines. Its study is deeply satisfying because it makes principles of ancillary courses go full circle. The queuing models of 341 are stochastic processes in the form of Markov chains (Stat 455). Their time-reversibility property make equations easily derivable. Finance, of course, is all about statistics and regression. The most salient criticism of commerce is that more technically-minded disciplines can easily learn the material. The reverse does not hold. This explains why McKinsey seems so intent on hiring engineers.

My relationship with mathematics is on-off. In grades 8, 10 and 12, in the heat of rediscovery, I placed well into the top tiers in Canada for mathematics competitions. In grade 12, I was invited to write the Canadian Mathematics Olympiad. In the off years, I characterized the subject as a passive, unimportant, socially disparaging, unrewarding field relegated to nerds and self-satisfied intellectuals. More recently, I rediscovered the discipline. I hope it plays some part in my future.

To read the magazine, click here (starts on pdf page 29).

Thanksgiving: I have contributed nothing to society but have received much in return. Thank you.

October 6, 2012

Life has dulled to a hum and I couldn’t be happier. I am enjoying a quiet thanksgiving from a lonely Kingston. For one weekend, the primary contributors of rambunctiousness emigrate to congregate with distant relatives, eat disproportionately fat turkeys and most importantly, appease their financiers. Such pensive times allow for a celebration of the true purpose of thanksgiving. That is to give gratitude to the social fabric and institutions that allow for our continued success. I have contributed nothing to society but have received much in return. Thank you.

Shortly after claiming that my future would be “unsettling” on my (well received) September 15 post, I found myself with a clear sense of direction for the next seven months. It involves restaurants, mathematics and Paris – there are worse combinations.

With a stroke of an electronic pen, I moved Canada’s unemployment rate a few negligible ticks in the right direction. But there was no escape from buyer’s remorse. Third year commerce students see the world as their oyster. They are free agents in a seller’s market. Their insecurities are actually options, which we know to have much value. It is difficult to see many years of effort culminate in something as fleeting as a signature. And the question that will always jut out is “did I make the right decision.”

The timing was particularly awkward. After a year and half of networking and career testing, the entire decision unravelled during the first two weeks of school. That was unexpected. I thought I would have gone through the official process in November. This was historically the month of reckoning, when kings were crowned. During my first two years, I had always envisioned third-year recruiting to be a stressful ordeal, as were March 2010 and January 2011. My experience was vastly different. I submitted my beautified résumé with some pompous footnotes and ended up with exactly what I wanted. Many watering hole conversations with sages later, I realized I had a chance to be self-fulfilled and happy. I signed the offer.

What I have recently learned is that third year commerce is not the end-all. Rather, it is a beginning to a difficult and demanding life. Wannabe financiers bring up a famed diagram that shows a distinct path to “success”. The misconception is that third-year recruiting defines success. This summer spelled my disillusionment. I saw enough despair to know the hardship lies after. With all the firm-cycling and industry-hopping witnessed this summer, third-year recruiting is certainly not the end. There is no timeline. Life is more interesting than that.

This newfound attitude might best be described as short-termism. Without gateways at prescribed times, there is no need for a plan. Heading in the right direction is enough; how you get there is the sum of everyday decisions made because they are good and righteous in themselves, because they fit with your values. Hopefully, those values include such venerable qualities like hard work, commitment and sacrifice as these will surely help in the longer term. People with these qualities may very well decide to over-work themselves in the short term and propel themselves into the future. But embracing hard work, commitment and sacrifice is a lifelong pledge. To claim to work hard now to have it easier in the future is simply indefensible.

That is to say you should never do something because it is a means to an end. You should do it because you want to.

3rd Year: And so it begins (again)

September 15, 2012

A one-week repose was well needed, and maybe even deserved. Not a weekend after writing my ethics exam, I was thrown into “high-finance.” What had I gotten myself into? The capricious summer was fraught with the vicissitudes characteristic of the industry. Lugubrious ordeals were instructive and victories offset the troubles. Summerlicious (34 restaurants in 17 days), midway through the summer, hurried the toil along so that four months ended on a cusp instead of in monotony.

And in the one week, I accomplished not more than read a third of Les Misérables, in preparation for the Hollywood production and Toronto’s revival of the musical. The book is masterly though Hugo rambles for tomes and tomes in socialist fashion about tangential plotlines and inconsequential ideas. One such misdemeanor is his description of Waterloo, the decisive end to Napoleon. When I arrived in Kingston on Saturday, the setting was all too familiar. I stepped into war-torn territory near the end of a weeklong engagement. The veterans of Queen’s University, tired and hoarse, saw victory only pints and millilitres away. I stood with a guilty conscience like a cripple given safe passage. Their droopy eyes, frazzled hair and incomplete memories were eclipsed by glorious grins of accomplishment and of resilience. And after a weeklong ceasefire, today they rise again to welcoming the real veterans for faux-coming. How inspirational.

I moved into a beautiful house behind Goodes Hall. Unlike my old lodgings, the new one is aptly described as a man-cave. Despite modern feminism and the prophesized “End of Men” this temple of masculinity, for which pilgrimages (and certainly not of a Catholic variety) should be and often are made, is undeterred. I cannot contain my excitement to live in such venerable conditions.

The rest of Kingston has not changed too much. Its leisurely pace of life is solace compared to the hectic metropolises of the summer. The sushi at Sima is still so fresh, the pizza at Woodenheads as thin as ever and the bike rides almost idyllic in autumn. QP emits a youthful exuberance seen only on campuses; its microwaved chicken avocado is a guilty pleasure. The Goodes Hall expansion is a footnote for the newly-minted Starbucks it houses. I can imagine the location doing quite well, despite some worthy competition from the man-cave just a minute away (rumour is, the establishment recently started serving lattes).

Classes have ensued and luckily, only one class requires participation (and only 6% for that matter). One professor barred laptop usage, a counterproductive policy that extinguishes any intellectual vivacity and forces students to trudge along with the professor at the prescribed pace unsympathetic to the needs of the diverse student body. To perform quantitative business courses without a laptop is like studying Literature without a dictionary. Students should be trusted to take control of an education they paid over $14,000 for. As such, I look forward to once again, assuming the role of recluse, a societal function that is deceivingly intellectual and productive.

These constructive outlooks suggest a reasonably delightful future to come. The job markets are indeed precarious and my future is unsettling. Clarity is non-existent. Yet I have decided to look forward to this semester for being happy is better than being sad and for hope is better than despair.

A formal theory about happiness, success and what have you

September 1, 2012

My ramblings on my life and the underlying drivers of happiness have garnered a bit of attention. They are some of the more popular posts. That’s good because happiness is, after all, the most important result of anyone’s life. That isn’t to say I have any authority on the matter…but here goes.

Success and happiness are so correlated they might as well be the same. Happiness must be an integral part of success, or else the definition of success is skewed. However, they are not necessarily the same. Success is definite. It may be differently assessed by different people but that does not change the underlying characteristics. Success is a person’s intrinsic value. Cynically speaking, it might be how much you are willing to give up to have someone else’s life. So when you say “I wish I were someone else,” you are essentially saying the target is more successful.

Success is something that is built up. It is the accumulation of accomplishment, whatever they may be. But it can be impaired, written down or given a haircut. At this early stage in our lives, accomplishments depreciate very quickly. Last year I had a couple of lines on my resume pertaining to high school. This year I have two. What success is not, however, is forward looking. Success is not derived from hope, potential or optimism. It is quite simply the retained value of all the things a person has done in the past.

Happiness, on the other hand, stems from the past, present and future. They say people can’t be happy because the past is always too rosy, the present unfulfilling and the future unresolved. Happiness is built on success. Happiness is what you make of your success and how you intend to leverage it in the future. When outlook is dimmed, a person’s underlying success should help serve as a baseline for happiness. Happiness can also get out of hand, climbing to unsustainable heights before bursting and plunging down to lows.

Unfortunately, constant happiness is not enough. It must, as all things, have a return. That may be why, despite all that running, you feel like you have not moved at all. Non-volatile happiness (i.e. one that tracks success closely) with reasonable growth is probably the golden ticket. What happiness should not be, however, is fleeting. Rational joy derives from strong understanding of underlying success and reasonable forecasting of future success. Expectations that are too high will have disappointing results.

Happiness is a figment of the mind; it can often feel like a grumpy old man with a short attention span. Success is a much easier target to aim for. It is a high quality boost to happiness, unlike the temporary gyrations that end up nowhere. I believe this model gives a reasonable outline of two key end goals of human existence. It may even end up making you happier.

Toronto: Another Confrontation on Bike

August 13, 2012

Biking home from a pleasant dinner at Le Paradis, I encountered quite the disagreeable individual, perched upon a mountain bike, wheels of gargantuan proportion as only seen from Wal-Mart or Canadian Tire. I interrupted his jaunty but effortful sidewalk crossing with my right turn, to which he exclaimed in a most cantankerous voice “the light is red!” Yes, the red light was mine but I was turning right. And there were neither cars nor pedestrians to yield to. There was only the self-affirmed rider on the wrong side of the street, occupying a pedestrian crossing.

His raspy voice and glaring eyes held me at a standstill. I questioned my lawfulness and self-worth. I apologized for tempering his lively commute and only a bit later did I realize my mistake in apology. If only humankind was less sure of itself, we would see ourselves so much further. If we first considered our own actions before judging the actions of others, we could achieve so much more.

3Q Summer 2012 – Anything you deserve should not make you happy

August 3, 2012

The final month has begun and many things are going well. Demands of the job have settled down and Summerlicious went better than planned. Academically, my paper Skunk Redux will be published in October 2012 and I have maintained my standing. And considering the tumultuous summer of 2011, the YOY figures are robust. Yet it is clear that I have not caused any achievement since January 2012. Summerlicious is certainly no accomplishment, my paper has been due for a year and my academic standing was more or less the result of Comm 190. Interesting in the world of GPA, success will be determined by a few highly exclusionary courses.

Happiness must weigh effort (cost) versus achievement (benefit). You can always work a little harder to get a little more. But does that make you happier? I’d argue no. So happiness might stem from outsized benefit for what little effort you put in. If you could achieve the same thing but one scenario requires five years instead of three, you’d likely choose the three. You’d likely be much happier. That is to say anything you deserve should not make you happy.

This brings up the question that what is really earned? I owe much to society, upbringing, socioeconomic status and luck. What I do myself is actually a very small piece of the pie.

The realization is that I am only happy (for now) because I have achieved a return greater than the normal rate of return for my effort. Yet I suppose it is simply a fact of life that returns are affected by things completely outside your control. So not to be defeatist, I will conclude to say that a sure way to be unhappy is not to try and regret it latter.

1H12 (First Half of Summer) Report: Generally Good

June 27, 2012

Halfway through my 18 week summer (and internship) and things are certainly looking up. At a neighborhood Italian restaurant, someone remarked how most people would only come here ‘on occasion.’ My review of Ciao Wine Bar, on OpenTable, was positive but rather subdued. “Average” is clearly in the eye of the beholder:

“A rather non-pretentious restaurant in a rather pretentious neighborhood (ONE is across the street) makes for a comfortable and chatty food experience. The bare wood tables and focaccia in olive oil are traditionally inspired in an otherwise modern "bar", a stark contrast to the much more laid back Nervosa down the street. There is nothing spectacular about the food and yet still above average enough to merit return visits. Prices aren't spectacular but I'll take it in Yorkville.”

The same can be said of our monthly escapades to Aquaterra’s Sunday brunch ($22). There is a lot of luxury built into our average perception of life. I say that as I plan for 17 days of foodie-galore via summerlicious. The plan is to make 34 reservations and see how many of them I can attend. All are Toronto Life recommended and include such hallmarks like Canoe, Auberge, Colborne Lane and North 44. For those two weeks I expect this blog to be on fire. I am doing this because this will be the last summer in a long time (presumably) when I can restaurant-hop with such hunger. The monetary ramifications will be dire, likely $1500 over two weeks. I’m most interested in seeing where the point of diminishing returns is on such an expensive food regime.

Thankfully, Financial Management Institute of Canada heard my dire need of funding today and provided a $2500 scholarship (http://www.fmi.ca/pages/ontario/FMI_Ontario_Chapter_Scholarship.shtml). With the administrative mess associated with rankings calculations, this may be the only success this summer. This story brings back the recurring topic about happiness. At 8:36AM I received electronic notice that I had won. At 8:37, the previous email was “recalled”. Though the situation had not changed since 8:35, I felt much worse. In finance, I believe this is the bird-in-hand theory. At 10:35, I received confirmation that I did indeed win, and I probably felt better than I did at 8:36AM. The role expectations play is ever so consuming. Losing something you thought you had is way worse than losing something you never knew you had. I learnt last night that lowering expectations, though, does not improve happiness (http://www.ted.com/talks/tali_sharot_the_optimism_bias.html). The reason stated was zany (along the lines of blaming yourself for not trying hard enough) but the correlation is still there. And to change an expectation is ever so difficult. 80% of people have an optimism bias. I would like to think I fall into the other 20%.

The last several weeks in pictures

Lucien: this place keeps on getting worse. We’ll see if summerlicious does anything for it. I’m going for lunch. (Pictured are trout and pork).

Sam James Coffee Bar: This place was opened by some bohemian who despised overpaid, overworked gears in the economic machine (like you & me) and is now being scolded by his own patrons for turning away from the artsy and unemployed, gini co… — Sam James Coffee Bar: This place was opened by some bohemian who despised overpaid, overworked gears in the economic machine (like you & me) and is now being scolded by his own patrons for turning away from the artsy and unemployed, gini coefficient expanders. Sigh... everyone ends up on Bay Street like it or not.

South of Temperance: This place is a consistent let down. The food simply does not do the atmosphere justice.

Ethiopian House: This is the first time I have eaten with my fingers. I must say I prefer Indian food do this. The delivery vehicle (akin to the Indian Naan) was “Injera” which was soggy and unsightly. I would think that humans, regardless of cultur… — Ethiopian House: This is the first time I have eaten with my fingers. I must say I prefer Indian food do this. The delivery vehicle (akin to the Indian Naan) was “Injera” which was soggy and unsightly. I would think that humans, regardless of culture, take issue with eating soggy things.

Francofete: I felt like a cultured Canadian doing this. Last year Coeur de Pirate came. We listened to her songs in French Class (“Comme des Enfants”). This year was decidedly worse. The headline song was “oi oi oi” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l… — Francofete: I felt like a cultured Canadian doing this. Last year Coeur de Pirate came. We listened to her songs in French Class (“Comme des Enfants”). This year was decidedly worse. The headline song was “oi oi oi” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lNARDxZguDc&feature=related) which really speaks to Spanish (Latin American) Culture more so than French. I’m a little concerned that this cultural confusion is so widespread. I thought the French took their culture seriously. In France 2AM is time for poetry and art (Midnight in Paris – great movie) and not the time for oi oi oi.

Unreasonable Expectations

May 29, 2012

The excitement of the summer has more or less subsided. They say “The reason people find it so hard to be happy is that they always see the past better than it was, the present worse than it is, and the future less resolved than it will be.” This seems accurate. When I think of my accomplishments in first year commerce, they seem to far outweigh the accomplishments in my second year. What I forget was how much more challenging first year was for me, adjusting to the new environment. Second year was indeed less successful but perhaps I had a better time. As for the present, there comes a point where the status quo is taken for granted. This is wrong in principle but perhaps required as a motivating force going forward. And finally, the future is the cornerstone of this equation. The unpredictability of the future is the key to aberrations in happiness. Where your actual experiences do not meet your expectations, it is hard to be happy. It is when actual inflation is less than expected inflation that wages rise faster than revenues, creating unemployment. The key is then to manage expectations. But expectations are hard to manage. It is evolutionary to be optimistic (http://www.economist.com/node/21554506).

A little bit of hope makes you go a little further in achieving your goals. Unfortunately, that sets your future expectations higher than reasonable expectations, which seems to be the underlying message of the quotation. There are many good reasons to be optimistic though. There has never been a better time in history to be alive. This applies to people in (almost) any geography and social economic status. The modern economy, as much as it has been slandered, has lifted almost a billion people out of poverty in the last century. The Rawls criterion that inequality must make the worst person better off has then been satisfied. My friends and I are turning 20 this year which begins the happiest decade in a human's life (it peaks at 26, I believe). So I guess I should be optimistic (but not too much).

Last week(s) in pictures:

I cooked dinner at my place in Richmond Hill. I made chicken and risotto. My mother made the fried rice (it was untouched - the reason I learnt to cook).

A relaxing week / weekend

May 19, 2012

I am lucky to have had a light week and an equally light weekend as my friends. A pastime I have developed is reading (in this case last two issues of the Economist and Conrad Black's blog on National Post), from which I recently found the origins of Quinoa to be quite the underdog story. As many things these days (organic, field-to-table, etc.) we realize that our ancestors got it right. Funnily enough my Friday lunch consisted of an overdressed chicken and Quinoa from Food iQ, a bustling quick serve underneath the TD complexes purportedly opened by a banker to cater other overworked, malnourished bankers. The name "Food IQ" itself merits it a visit, I think (haha!).

Stories like this make it hard for me to imagine a better city to live in (though I understand my rather provincial experience gives me little credibility). The PATH hosts a pastiche of flavours unfound in touristy New York (Sandwich Box, another favourite is pictured above). A Sam James Coffee Bar will soon open, with whimsical latte art designs. Yorkville is a delightful place to spend the weekend. Quality is high but it isn't pretentious. The Winners is separated from the Gucci and Hermès by only a Starbucks. We went to the Manulife center, whose top floor is "Panorama". A friend pointed out that a similar establishment in New York would likely have hour long lines.

On a grander scale, Canada must be one of the best places to live. The recounts from those recently returned from exchange eliminate most places. Off the top of my head, it seems like Northern Europe and Australia/New Zealand are the only contenders. I am writing this on the 200 year anniversary of the War of 1812 and on the weekend of Queen Victoria, both reasons to be excited to live in Canada. No doubt our history has been dull. What that really means is that there have been no major wars, famines, genocides, political instability nor natural disasters. Knock on wood.

Another week; Normalizing

May 15, 2012

I'm privileged to write this while the sun is still up. Work has slowed a bit thankfully. Unfortunately the rest of bay street is still grinding by the looks of it, which makes lunch and dinner plans difficult. However, I encourage those working at Canadian Banks to work harder and expense less. Especially if you're at TD or BNS (and maybe CM if we buy into it soon). The acronym MLIF now seems to have two expansions. The better one is "My Life is Finance". Between QUIC, ONCAP and the people I'm always with, it appears accurate. Being able to pour a latte has never been so useful as it is the one non-relevant line item on the resume.

My math paper remains unpublished. I called cell phone number I found on google that was supposed to belong to the editor. I appear to have awoken him from his eternal slumber; the paper will come out February 2013, a year after the date I was initially hoping for. I will hopefully be celebrating my birthday in France at that time.

Marks have all come out and I do protest against the 1% (in Ethics). I have a faint idea who the 1% might be and will set up camp outside their doors.

Last week in pictures: