Thinking like a Software Engineer

This whole San Diego Prius incident has me a bit disturbed and for reasons more profound than the obvious. So this guy speeds out of control, calls 911, car gets stopped by a CHP officer and because anything "Toyota" is national news these days, this also becomes one. This is disturbing enough but it gets better. Toyota comes in with a group of experts, takes this car apart, runs tests for a couple of days and makes announcements and news conferences almost stopping short of calling this whole thing a lie.

Prius like any other modern day cars has several hundred embedded control systems. Almost any malfunction can be mechanical, electrical or um.. software? So in SW terminilogy what Toyota said can be translated as " Sorry I cannot reproduce your bug, so you really did not even see the bug". Really? How ridiculous is that ? This statement is almost laughable to any software engineer out there. If it had been any mechanical fault , they would have found it by now. It could easily be a SW fault where some control system failed under some mysterious circumstances. The fact that they did not have logs really means nothing...May be if the module had received the "trigger" it would have done more than log it, it would have actually acted on it and stopped the car. Interrupt is missed, no action taken and hence no logs at all...sounds all logical to me. If it is a tricky SW bug like this, it is extremely unlikely that it would be reproduced that quickly.
Anyway, I am not claiming that I know all the facts here. In fact, a big company in times like this has to be wary of fradulent cliams but jumping to conclusions too soon and slandering someone's story before all facts are in seems a bit too irresponsible.
The conscientious embedded engineer inside of me stirs...

Curse of over-diagnosis

Last week Prem dragged me to "Road Runner" to make me a buy a pair of running shoes. If you are not familiar with this place, this is how it works:

You sign-in and wait in line to be "evaluated". When an advisor is ready, he first makes you to walk across a sensor pad which coverts your step into a "foot map" of pressure points. This tells them exactly how you apply pressure when you walk. Then they make you walk on a treadmill and video tape that. The specialist now micro analyzes exactly how you use your legs to evaluate your posture, position and pressure. Finally they measure your feet and give you the "final verdict" which includes the type of shoes that is just right for you. Following this, they will be happy to fit you with the "perfect" shoe, completely conforming to the diagnosis they made. Of course, all of this for a hecty price tag.

So despite the kids showing signs of restlessness, I waited for my turn and went through the grand ritual, patiently listening to the guy telling me how I am not exactly walking straight when I use my left leg, how I apply too much weight on my toes in my right foot and so on. After a few minutes I got my "evaluation sheet". There I was labelled and categorized ; I am no longer just a person with big feet, but now I am a "neutral 8.5 D with a recommendation of medium arch insole on my left". With the circus finally done, I met Prem who was ready with his own report card.

As I proceeded to the display of shoes to figure out what the price tag for my category would be, my ever negotiating, deal making, "shrewd enough to know that 3 side orders of eggs is cheaper by a dime than a 3-egg omlette" husband quickly ushered me to the back side of the building, assuring me we can find the same shoes (which by the way, I figured would cost in $80-$100 range) at a much lower cost in the clearance section.

This infamous clearance section was nothing like the front end of the store. It was a dinky warehouse with several racks of shoe boxes all somewhat mixed up. I went to the first rack and much to my relief saw several 8.5s. The price seemed decent. I asked the guy who was arranging these if these were "D"s and he eagerly nodded. So I opened up several of them to find something I liked. Half way through this, something made me take the shoes and my "report card" to the guy at the cash register. He said "Sorry ma'm, these are "B"s, you need a "D". I was disappointed but having invested so much time, I was determined to find my perfect "sole" mate and started checking all the racks. If it was a "8.5 neutral", it wasn't a "D". If it was a "8.5D", it wasn't a "neutral". I quickly realized I do not have normal feet at all...There was nothing there that fitted my exact description. I bumped into Prem, who didn't seem to be having much luck with his own diagnosis either. He graciously decided to suspend his own search temporarily and help me instead. After some effort he found a box that matched my specs. I tried them on. They fitted okay but kind of looked weird. I took it to the counter only to realize they were Men's shoes. The search was on again... Prem finally found another box. These WERE women's shoes and exactly fitted my description. Bingo!! I was thrilled. I eagerly opened it, tried the left one on. It was a good fit. I walked around with it and decided to put on the other shoe to be doubly sure. The other shoe looked strange. I took a closer look and realized that this box had " 2 left shoes". I was ready to SCREAM. The kids by this time had completely lost it. They decided to play "shoe store" and managed to open up several random boxes and mix them all up. Sanju was insisting that Sahana try on some shoe, which she refused. Sahana started running around the store and Sanju was chasing her, screaming and crying for her to come back, with one shoe in her hand. I was helplessly watching them with the box of "2 left shoes" still in my hand. By this time, Prem had quietly given up on mine and went ahead with his own futile search.

This is when the "enlightenment" struck...What is this obsession with micro analyzing every thing we do? As human beings, are we not allowed a decent standard deviation from the "norm"? Why should every facet of us be "binned" and "labelled"? I was tired of all this over analysis and over diagnosis. I am just a normal person (ok, I admit I have big feet) looking for a simple pair of sneakers and I refuse to make this a rocket science experiment. With this new found realization, I went back to the boxes of "8.5"s and "9"s and just started trying them on. After a couple of tries I found a pair that looked good. I tried them on, walked around : Fitted just fine and it was just $20. Refusing to take another look at this box to figure out the exact specifications of this pair, I proudly carried that to the counter, paid up and left, remembering to toss my "8.5D neutral med-high arch on the left" report card into the nearest recycling bin. To h@?? with their diagnosis : I found my perfect pair!!

PS: To complete my story, Prem did not want to settle, he did cough up close to full price to buy his pair of perfection...

Time and Money

There was a conversation this morning about making time for exercise. Someone remarked that Barack Obama works out for 45 minutes every single day and if he can make time for exercise it is shameful that we ordinary citizens cannot. There were times when I have also followed similar reasoning, only to end up feeling quite low about my seemingly bad time management skills. Off-late equipped with more information the way my mind rationalizes has changed...
Here is a story from Hindu mythology that will hopefully help make my point. Narada, the chief devotee of Lord Vishnu grew quite haughty about the extent of his devotion to Vishnu. He goes to Vishnu one day asking him to declare Narada as his best devotee. Vishnu disgarees and takes him down to earth to the family of a poor farmer. The duo decide to spend a day with the poor farmer. The farmer spends his whole day from dawn to dusk toiling in his fields to bring home a small meal for his family. In the name of Vishnu, he is happy to share the meager meal they had with the guests at home. The next morning Narada takes the farmer aside to find out how often he worships Vishnu. The farmer says he is thankful to Vishnu for everything he has got and makes it a point to pray to him before he starts his day and at the end of the day. Narada is quite puzzled and upset with Vishnu and asks Vishnu how the farmer's chant a couple of times a day matches Narada's devotion. Vishu does not respond immediately but makes Narada go around a mountain with a pot of water on his head with the condition that he cannot let the pot drop. Narada accomplishes this with with some difficulty and a lot of concentration. Now Vishnu asks him how many times during this trip around the mountain Narada thought of him and Narada replies, "hardly once" because he was so focussed on the hard task at hand. Now Vishnu smiles and tells Narada that it is easy enough to think of him all the time when he has nothing better to do but the fact that the farmer can find time to think of him amidst his very difficult day is what makes him a better devotee.
Getting back to the point, Obama is not unique in his devotion to exercise. Bush is known for spending an hour exercizing every day. Reagan spent an hour hand replying to the letters he got. In fact, he spent a good year of his presidency at his ranch near Santa Barbara (not being a big fan of Camp David). Bill Gates and a lot of other CEOs are known for being very particular about their hobbies and their exercicise routines. In fact in that high rolling society, it is hard to survive without some predictable time everyday spent on something else. However,I would dare anyone to check with people at the lowest socio-economic stratum : someone struggling to make ends meet, unable to buy health insurance for their children and probably stradling a couple of jobs. Ever think how many of these people find time for an exercise routine? When you are all consumed by a powerful high paying job engulfed in a luxurious life, it is a no brainer to look for something which can help you "break" from the stress. On the contrary, doing the same when your very survival is at risk, when your very basic needs are not met and when your ego is crushed is a whole other story. When you do not have dishes to do, laundry to fold or that broken sprinkler to fix, your options are truly endless. I know I am not at either ends of this spectrum and it seems easy enough to extrapolate that my execrise routine is also somewhere in between. So I don't need to feel too bad right? I am exactly where I need to be...
So with all due respect to Obama and the other multi-miliionaries out there who have committed an hour of their day to the treadmill, while I am quite okay to tip my hat and give them credit for their health consciousness,don't blame me for not being blown over...I just spent my past hour cooking and cleaning for my family!!

Is eternal fame worth it?

2009 marks the 200th year of Charles Darwin and there has been a lot of media spotlight on his life, research and beliefs. I heard his biography on one such program on radio. His theory of evolution and natural selection contradicts some of the basic Christian beliefs of creationism and to this day the controversy remains. Darwin was married to a very religious wife and was worried about offending her by publishing his work and didn't for more than a decade. Then one fine day their only daughter, the focal point of their life, got sick. The couple tried everything they could and even travelled to try and make her better but she only got worse and eventually died. Her death was a huge blow to Darwin and his wife Annie, but in strange ways (or so the story goes) this brought them closer and he ended up publishing his revolutionary theory.
This narrative made me recollect some of the traumatic incidents in the early lives of other famous people (Thanks to a couple of interesting books S has). Lincoln lost his mother when he was only nine years old, Marie Curie lost her mother and her older sister within a time gap of just two years to tuberculosis, when she was barely ten. She actually watched her mom quarantined at home for about a year. Helen Keller lost her vision and hearing when she was only two years old. Whether it is Albert Eienstein, George Washington or even modern day history makers like Barack Obama, there was certainly nothing rosy about their childhood. Is this the cause of their success or is their past being put in perspective an effect of their success? Do children have to endure some amount of suffering or at the very least have something abnormal in their chilhood to become famous later? Is some amount of misery a prerequisite for eternal fame?
Okay, may be I am overeacting here...There are other famous people that have had perfectly normal lives or at least "normal" within the widely acceptable range. One thing however that seems to be universally true is, all these famous people have been extremely passionate about something even in their early lives. Something that helped them keep their focus amidst all the chaos around them and something they could take refuge in, no matter what. Famous or otherwise, may be that is what we all need to do...find that one thing in life that keeps us motivated and helps us (mentally) rise above what is around us. Something we can seek solace in or vent our frustartion with, when the world around us does not cooperate. As parents this is what we need to encourage our children to do, not for eternal fame but for eternal peace...

Ghirardheli and Globalization

Our family is a big fan of the Glirardheli's. For people not familiar with this place, they are very famous for their chocolates and have been around for over a hundres years. They are headquartered in SF, where they have this cafe near SF wharf where they sell an awesome selection of icecream and of course chocolates. I still remember the "earthquake" (A platter with your choice of 7 icecream flavors with all the toppings one could possibly imagine) we enjoyed when my sister visited us a few years ago. Needless to say, I was ecstatic when I learnt about the store in San Diego. Since that time, we made it a habit to go there for every small celebration and never miss a chance to take any of our unsuspecting SD visitors there. We typically bring back a souvenir of their hot cocoa or drinking chocolate box every time.
So it all began one evening when S wanted a mug of hot chocolate. I reached out for the box only to find barely a spoonful left. "We are out of drinking chocolate", I declared. S answered just the way I thought ( and hoped) she would, "We better go there soon and get some amma". Yes!! yet another opportunity for a family outing there!!! It so turned out that this hot cocoa situation was so bad that P felt compelled to go to Vons to pick up a replacement ( S barely drinks any milk and she typically prefers it with hot cocoa). I wasn't too alramed, what kind of a match is Hershey's to Girardheli's...this stop gap purchase isn't going to stop us...We had to go and get the "real" thing sooner or later. The same evening I looked for the box to make a mug for S fully expecting Hershey's or some such hot cocoa box but there was it was...a shiny new box of Ghirardheli hot cocoa in my cabinet!! I certainly took my time digesting that...
Our favorite Ghirardehli hot cocoa at Vons!! Coming to think of it, regular grocery stores have always carried Ghirardheli chcolates, so why should their hot cocoa be any different...I suspect they have always carried it but I never bothered to look. I truly felt let down. Where has all the uniqueness gone? Now we truly live in a world where you get everything anywhere. Advent of on-line shopping hasn't made that any better. I still remember every little thing P and I collected on our first visit to Europe. The mask from Venice, the cuckoo clock from Switzerland, statue of Paulina from Rome ...each one was special. It gives (me) immense pleasure buying something knowing you can't get it anywhere else in the world, the purchase itself marking your very presence there. Now you barely need to leave your bedroom to get items from any corner of the world. I hardly buy anything on my travel these days. The very excitement that forces you to make that "buy" decision: the pressure of "if not here you can't buy it later" just isn't there anymore. I know I can always order it on-line if I REALLY want it.Another thing I really used to enjoy is looking at "duty-free" shops at airports, now I can barely even walk through them. You basically get the same darn thing in every single duty free shop all over the world. I am not against globalization in general but sometimes I do feel that we have fallen victim to our own success...As for Glirardheli, luckily we do have a couple of milestones of S's to celebrate, so looks like it IS going to work out after all...

Of the people, by the people, for the people

I wake up on a gloomy election morning and decide to be first in line when the polls open. I get ready as fast as I can and show up at the polling place. Not too many people in line. I eagerly wait for my turn. "Sorry ma'm, we can't find your name in our record. Are you sure you registered?", announces the poll worker. "Whaaaaaaaaaaaat, How could that be? I only double-checked about half a dozen times", but dizzy with shock, those words don't come out.

It is 7PM on election day, meeting at work shows no sign of wrapping up. "Sorry folks, I need to leave now, I haven't voted yet", I finally muster the courage to say. I rush home. It is raining and with the new day lights savings time in effect, traffic is really bad. I finally reach the polling place 15 minutes before time. There are about 50 people in line. After waiting for about half hour and 10 more people to go, "Sorry folks, the poll is now closed", declares the poll worker. I leave amidst moans and groans.

This time I wake up and with a bad cough. I walk down to the medicine cabinet to get some cough syrup, unable to believe that I am actually having nightmares about elections. This cold is making me delirious, I think. The clock read 2AM and our midnight visitor from the other room had already made herself comfortable in our bed. Unable to go back to sleep right away, I decide to do some soul searching...

I have lived in good democratic nations my whole life but never bothered to show any kind of interest in politics, let alone cast a ballot. My parents have been very conscientious citizens and I have never known them to miss a single election. My father is a voracious reader but never discussed politics openly with anyone. It has never been a dinner table conversation in our household. He would read up on all issues and instruct my mother which way to vote which my mom was very willing to do. She was the vocal one at home when it came to politics ( at least with us) and always held a very cynical view , always claiming it didn't matter who is in power, it would never make a difference to us. I turned 18 but then I was off to college in a different district. I am not even sure if my parents ever registered me to vote, so I was off for 4 years blisfully ignoring my civic duty every single time. The sad part is I never felt a twinge of guilt about it even once, may be at heart I held the same cynical view as my mother. I came to the US and did not have any voting rights (nor did I miss it) until last year when I became a US citizen. I never bothered to register to vote and coming to think of it, I cannot even remember if I actually had any intentions to vote. And then....The presidential races started. Can't really say what caught my eye with the elections, may be it is the media or the sincere citizens around me or the opportunity to see history in the making . All of a sudden, there was a force that pushed me into this frenzy and before I knew it, I was following all possible web sites, blogs and election reports. I followed the two party conventions, the presidential debates and even most of the interviews. I read up and had opinions on issues that I didn't even knew existed. Looking around me, I am clearly not alone. This election has energized and polarized the masses in ways that no one could have ever imagined. The candidate pool couldn't have been more different or diverse, whether it is age, race, gender or religion, there was something for everyone. There was more drama here than what the best of Hollywood could have conjured up. This may or may not be most important election of this century but to me, it was a turning point : a much needed wake up call. The cough medicine finally kicks in and I doze off...

I wake up (for real) on election day and it is in fact raining. I smile to myself thinking about my dreams (They don't seem like nightmares any more). P offers to drop the kids off since he had a meeting. I pack them off and call Malini to see if she wants to go with me. She couldn't as it was still drizzling and she didn't want to take Abhi in the rain. I went to the polling place clutching my driver's license and the voter registration card. There was no line. My name was located in seconds and the lady cheerfully handed out the ballot. I took it to the booth with the same eagerness I used to have taking a question paper for an exam, I was truly well prepared for. I took a look at the questions ( ballot) and yes, I was indeed well prepared, I had all the answers. I quickly marked them and handed it back with a great sense of pride. Yes, I did it!! I didn't feel like a citizen but for the first time felt like an adult...