Remembering Jovi

20 years ago I learned my friend Jovi Baguio Palanzi had died. [Obituary] I knew her from church, but hadn't seen her since her marriage to my friend Paul the previous January. That caused a minor eschatological crisis for me at a time that our church was going though a lot of turmoil.
In addition, the news came at a particularly tumultuous time in my life, when I was trying to decide where my own life was headed. I can't say I knew Jovi all that well, but I am thinking of her today.
[Her grave.]

1993 U.S. First Competition (part 3)

What did I learn from the whole experience? First, I learned that that nothing is impossible – it’s merely a matter of time, effort, and money. Those things we thought were “inconceivable” turned out to be the keys to success for the winning teams.

Second, I learned how constraints shrink the realm of the possible. Part of the reason we didn’t do well was because the Baxter engineers were limited in how much time they could dedicate to the project (they still had their regular jobs), and we didn't have a chance to “war game” our design before the competition. It's this idea of working with what you have under impossible time constraints that makes Apollo 13 one of my favorite movies ("We've gotta make *this* fit into *this* using nothing but *this*.")


Pictures of the other teams' robots

Finally, I learned that I didn’t want to be an engineer. While I am grateful to have had the opportunity, the engineers’ lifestyles and workplace culture didn’t appeal to me. For Brian Becker, though, it was completely different. At some point after college, he would go on to work for Baxter. So at least they got some return for their investment.

Today, the FIRST competition (they dropped the “U.S.” when it became more international) is a massive event. Instead of just 25 participating schools participating on a simple application basis, it how involves over 3000 high schools from 26 countries in several different events. And while I haven’t been particularly interested in the competitions snice then, I’m proud to have been a part of it, if for no other reason than I can go all Elrond-meme on my son, and declare “I was there … 30 years ago ….”
Pictures from the final round of competition. The AT&T team won.

1993 U.S. First Competition (part 2)

The next day, we went to the local high school’s gym, which was already set up. Here’s how it worked -- four teams per round with four goals; in the center were five large kickballs and 20 water-filled balls. Think of that game “Hungry Hungry Hippos” but with remote-controlled robot hippos.
Because the large balls couldn’t fit under the goal crossbars, we figured that a “small ball approach” was the only realistic option. And because our robot was small enough to underneath the cross bars, we could sneak into others’ goals. We thought that was the obvious, best design and approach.
But like mixed martial arts, there’s no 100% way of knowing what style is best until someone gets punched in the face. On paper, every idea’s just as good as the next one. Here I am answering a reporter's questions like we were going to be champions. However, it soon became clear which designs were superior, and it was clearly not ours.
Our inability to capture the large balls proved to be a *major* design weakness. The most successful teams had robots that could scoop up at least two of the five large balls within seconds. That’s what the winning team did in this video; they then locked things in by parking right in front of their goal, ensuring no one else could sneak in.
For me, the range and creativity of designs was absolutely astonishing. For example, the blue one in the bottom right picture was built to be un-flippable. The wood one in the back was designed specifically to pick up the large balls and lift them over the goal bars – the one thing we thought was impossible. Like the Vizzini character in The Princess Bride, I was completely stymied by things I thought were “inconceivable.”

1993 U.S. First competition (part 1)

In February 1993, I went to New Hampshire for a robotics competition called U.S. FIRST. That was 30 years ago this past week.

The whole thing started out (for me) during my senior year of high school, when my calculus teacher Tom Witek said he was going to start a robotics club. Apparently, I wasn’t busy enough that year, so I thought I’d check it out.

Over the next few weeks, more details came out. Our high school was partnering with Baxter Laboratories’ Renal Division to design a wireless robot, which the Baxter engineers would build, and students would control.

The task seemed straightforward enough – using remote controls, get the robot to capture large, air filled kickballs (worth 5 points each) and small, water-filled rubber balls (worth one point each), then deposit them in your goal. The team with the most points in their goal after two minutes wins. That sounded easy enough.

In practice, though, designing it was far was simple. We had *no idea* what we were doing, and we relied heavily on the Baxter engineers’ expertise to understand what was feasible. We settled on a durable design with a low center of gravity that focused on collecting small balls.

Baxter built the machine, then picked two pairs of students to pilot it. I was one of the four, along with Brian Becker and Ken Modde. (Sorry, I can’t remember the fourth.)
On Wednesday, February 25th, we all met at the school, took a limousine down to O’Hare airport, and flew to Boston. From there it was a one-hour drive to Nashua, New Hampshire, where we checked into a hotel.

I roomed with Brian. While we were far from out-of-control as far as teenagers go, we *were* still just two high school guys far from home. Here’s a picture of him doing a flip onto this bed.

My first trip to France: Epilogue

As I look back after 30 years, I have to consider how my first trip to France influenced my life.

At first, not much. I graduated high school without a clear idea what I wanted to do in life, so I went to community college for two years. It was during that time that I conceived a particular idea -- I wanted to get paid to travel to foreign countries. And I didn't want to just visit; I wanted to actually live in those places.

The first step was to the University of Hawai`i -- the farthest you can get away from the U.S. Mainland without leaving the United States. After that, it was South Korea. And by joining the Army, I went to Afghanistan and [back] to Korea. Then [back] to Hawaii. And in my role as a GS federal employee, I am now in Japan.

In a nutshell, it was my trip to France that helped set me on the path that I am still on to this day. I wanted to get paid to live and work in foreign countries, and that's what I do.

My first trip to France: Chicago departure

We left France on April 7th, 1992. From April 10th to 28th, the French students who we stayed with then stayed with us.

I have no pictures of what they did during that time (we had to be in school while they had the fun), but these pictures are of their departure. Christophe, the guy on the right in the above picture, stayed with us in 1991.

My brother and mother, just below.

My first trip to France: News article

After we left on April 7th, the local newspaper in Sallanches ran an article about our stay. Here's the translation. The Americans have departed!

Forty-five American students from Chicago, aged 15 to 16, were welcomed by their correspondents and their families in front of Verney College.

This isn't the first time this type of exchange has taken place; however, even if the Sallanchards had been able to go to the USA in 1991, the reverse could not have happened because of the Gulf War.

Indeed, under the leadership of Mrs. Grevy from Sallanches, and Lowstuter from Chicago, the colleges of Haute Savoie have been involved in this exchange for five years.

The principal, Mr. Rhodes, was there with Miss Lansac and Mr. Prunier.

Mrs. Casays, the overall head of the operation, welcomed the children as they got off the plane in Geneva.

For the stay, scheduled from March 28 to April 7, the list of activities is extensive: excursions, site visits (UN in Geneva, Yvoire, Annecy, Albertville, and the Olympic sites, Mont-Blanc and local museums), learning about the educational system, and especially family life.

To all this must be added skiing and snow sports… not forgetting various receptions.

As soon as they return home, the young Americans will prepare to receive their student hosts: the Sallanchards' stay in Chicago is scheduled for April 10 to 28.

My first trip to France: Departure

April 7th, 1992 came too early. We said our goodbyes at the school, then took a bus to Geneva. From there we flew to Paris, and then back to Chicago.
Flying over the Jura mountains was hair-raising. The flight path takes you juuuuust over the peaks, and I wondered if it we were flying low, or if the mountains really were supposed to be up that high.
And as you can see, we certainly made ourselves at home during the layover.

My first trip to France: Quick trip to Italy

Mont Blanc (or Monte Bianco, as the Italians call it) is part of the natural border with between France and Italy. The 8.6-mile tunnel that runs underneath it was finished in 1965.
Given how close the tunnel is to Sallanches, crossing the border into Italy was one of the first things we did. I remember being worried that I didn't bring any lira (this was pre-euro), but I learned that all border areas -- out of self-interest -- accept multiple currencies.

I was also surprised at the exchange rate. While $1 got you ~6 francs, it got you over 1100 Italian lira.

Other people remember the pizza; I remember the ride back. It had started to snow while we were out, and what looked like a blanket had coated each individual tree branch and limb.

I don't have any pictures of the few hours I was in Italy, but I have multiple pictures of the Alpine snow.

My first trip to France: Poisson d'avril

Chrystèle's brother Frédéric woke me up on the Wednesday morning we were there, saying "Il n'y a pas d'école aujord'hui!" (There's no school today!)

At first I wondered if it was a holiday or something. Then I thought maybe it might be a snow day.

But no. It was April Fool's Day. Or the French word for it: "Poisson d'avril" (fish of April). He got me.
According to one of the other people in the group, I then took this and ran with it. I guess I yelled "Poisson d'avril!" every time we passed a patisserie shop that day.

I'd like to think I've gotten less annoying over the years, but ... probably not.

My first trip to France: Lake Geneva

Lake Geneva lies to the north of Haute Savoie, and forms a natural border between France and Switzerland. We spent a day there visiting both the United Nations building and the lake town of Yvoire.
For the past 30 years I didn't know what this was, but it's a statue that Switzerland calls The National Monument. It features the two statues "Helvetia" and "Geneva" standing together. This is because Geneva only joined Switzerland in 1815.

Here's a better, more recent picture.

Inside the U.N. building, I took a picture of some art that developed so poorly I have never been able to figure out what it even was. It turns out that's one of the murals by Catalan Spanish artist José María Sert, and that room is the U.N. Council Chamber.
Then I have pictures of the Chateau d'Yvoire...
... and the harbor, from the perspective of a restaurant called Le Brasserie Cygne. Oh, and I have a picture of a swan, too.