Lessons in Loss

Jalen Hurts walks off the field after the Eagles were defeated in the Super Bowl

This one hurts. As a diehard Philadelphia Eagles fan, it was hard to see them fall in the Super Bowl last Sunday, 38-35, to the Kansas City Chiefs. Watching the game up in Philly was amazing (and then also depressing). I had previously blogged about the Birds this year; it was perhaps the most talented team they have ever fielded. I expected another Super Bowl victory (that wonderful season five years ago is still fun to think on). Alas, it was not to be.

Defeat is painful. It is especially hard when there are controversial situations or conditions. This time around, there were two:

• They debuted a new type of turf for the game, and it was (apparently) quite slippery.
• There was a holding call late in the game that sealed the Chiefs' win. Many question if it was a fair call. 

With these things in mind, it was easy for people to make excuses and place blame about the loss. I'm delighted to see the players and coaches take a different approach:

None of the players (or coaches) blamed the conditions or refs. The player called for holding admitted it was so. (Aside: there is no doubt it was. The controversy was about whether it affected the outcome of the play—minor holding is frequently uncalled—but the player owned it anyway.) They were bothered by the field but knew both teams had to play on it. Nobody blamed teammates, but focused on their own mistakes. In the end, they displayed the maturity and class you would expect/hope to see.

Everyone 'loses' at times. Not just in sports, but in life; in little ways and big. Maybe your boss demands your project take a direction you don't like, your political party loses an election, or the family outvotes you on movie night. In any case, how you react when you lose speaks volumes about your maturity. The right response is not excuses or blameshifting, but humble acceptance, congratulations to the victor,* examination of what happened, and dedication to improving the things in your control. Thank you, Eagles, for modeling that.

*where warranted. I'm not suggesting you high-five the winners of family movie night

The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)

Holden Caulfield is a 16-year-old getting kicked out of (yet another) elite boarding school. He leaves a few days early to hang out in his home town, New York City, before going home.  The Catcher in the Rye is his stream-of-consciousness observations, musings, and rantings at the world over this period. His general theme is that "People are always ruining things for you."

I'm not sure what to think of this. At first, I hated it. It is an angsty teen's profanity-laced, book-length complaint (with a few things he likes sprinkled amongst much he cannot stand). Though his observations (on how fake people can be and other 'dumb stuff') may be valid, he unashamedly practices (and even flaunts) his own sins and appears blatantly self-absorbed, resigned to a disappointing life. So initially, I was not impressed.

As I read, though, I came to appreciate the reason the book is revered—it is an interesting lens through which to capture our innate fallenness. Holden does show compassion in places, appreciating the plight of others and the sadness around him. And he kept asking people (a taxi driver, a random kid, and others) if they want to get a drink with him; their consistent rejections mirror what we all feel from time to time. So there is some value here—but there is little hope. It is glimpsed only briefly, near the end, from a former teacher who points out that 

you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them—if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement.

I'll conclude using the narrator's own words: "If you want to know the truth, I don't know what I think about it." But I will say "You had to feel a little sorry for the crazy sonuvabitch."

Rating: B-

Old Yeller (Fred Gipson)

Growing up as pioneers in the Texas hill country isn't easy. In the 1860s, Travis (14) must assume the man's responsibilities of the homestead as his father makes the months-long trek north to Abilene, Kansas, to sell some cattle. Travis does a good job of it, too, helping his mom and putting up with his little brother, Arliss. One day, a big yellow dog shows up, and Arliss claims it as the family's own. Travis doesn't much care for 'Old Yeller' at first, but he grows to love the dog as they endure life's trials together. But when 'hydrophobia' (rabies) comes to the area, Travis will have to do the hardest thing of all: put down the one who has so faithfully protected them several times.

This short children's book is a classic look at frontier life, bravery, sacrifice, and friendship. Written with the slang and perspective of Travis, it is entertaining (and impressive how much a 14-year-old could do in those days). Though there are sad moments, they are not belabored. And Travis's father returns as the novel concludes, and he comments on the whole affair: ". . . things like that happen. They may seem mighty cruel and unfair, but that's how life is a part of the time. But that isn't the only way life is. A part of the time, it's mighty good. And a man can't afford to waste all the good part, worrying about the bad parts."

Rating: A-

The Princess Bride

When they were young, Buttercup and Westley pledged their undying love to each other. Poor, Westley soon embarked on a years-long voyage to seek his fortune, promising to return. After hearing of his death, Buttercup pledges herself to the selfish Prince Humperdinck. She has no wish to be a princess bride, but sees little choice. Things take an unexpected turn when she is kidnapped and subsequently rescued by a very-much-alive Westley. But the two must face yet more trials . . . the Prince is plotting and needs Buttercup for his plans. He will stop at nothing to realize his vile schemes . . . can Westley and his rag-tag crew save the princess in time?

This whimsical and absurd 1987 fantasy comedy film is a fun take on the traditional fairytale and based on the book by William Goldman (which I have yet to read but look forward to experiencing). I watched it today with my daughter. (I had seen it before, but probably 30 years ago, so my memory was dim.) The film shows its age, but is still amusing and quotable. 

Rating: B+

Ha! The Science of When We Laugh and Why (Scott Weems)

In Ha!, neuroscientist Scott Weems seeks to uncover the science behind humor—why we laugh and so on. In his words,

Ha! is about an idea. The idea is that humor and its most common symptom—laughter—are by-products of possessing brains which rely on conflict.

The book has three broad sections:
- What is humor? ("what makes us laugh, how do our brains turn conflict into pleasure")
- What is humor for? ("what purpose does humor serve, and what does it say about who we really are?")
- So what? ("why should we care . . . and how does it influence our physical, psychological, and social well-being?")

In the first section, Weems argues that "humor has some very clear ingredients . . . they all depend on conflict and ambiguity resolution within our highly modular brains." He calls humor "a psychological coping mechanism . . . a way of dealing with conflict." It is "how we deal with complex and contradictory messages. It helps us resolve confusing feelings, and even connect with others in times of stress." He proposes that our brains go through 3 stages "when transforming ambiguity and confusion into pleasure:"

- Constructing: we build possible answers when solving problems
- Reckoning: we jettison mistakes to uncover new interpretations
- Resolving: we activate a new frame of reference. 

In short, "humor is our natural response to conflict and confusion," and "our humor must bring us someplace new, emotionally as well as cognitively."

In the next two sections, he looks at a variety of related topics and studies, to include creativity, physiological benefits, and other things.

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I mentioned in my 2023 Resolutions post that I might tackle humor this year, and this book seemed a good starting point. There is some value here. Weems brings up some interesting points, insights into how the brain works, and ideas or arguments that merit contemplation. His references to other studies is helpful for those interesting in further reading (at times, this felt more like a survey on humor studies as a result). And I could see grains of truth in some of his points and claims. Ultimately, though, I was disappointed for a host of reasons:

• Many of his claims take on more of an absolute or constant nature than I felt were warranted. Phrases like "every joke involves ___," "when ___ happens, we have no choice but to laugh," etc. In most cases, qualifiers ("most jokes involve," "our typical reaction is to laugh," and so on) would have made his arguments more tenable.
• It was replete with judgment calls and value statements paraded as absolute or objective truths. 
• The book is packed with logical non sequiturs—conclusions that do not follow from the observations or arguments presented.
• In some places, statements are flat-out wrong. 
• One example: in looking at instances of laughter in the Bible, and categorizing each as due to aggression, sadness, or joy, he claims "the winner by a landslide was aggression, at 45 percent," and "laughter due to joy occurred only twice." If that strikes you as a mathematically odd claim, it is; a quick BibleGateway search shows that words containing 'laugh' occur 44 times (in the ESV translation). If joy happens only 2 times, and aggression 20 (for the 45 percent he references), that leaves 23 times (or 51 percent) for sadness. But absolute numbers aside, one can see the error in his statement: if there are three categories, one has 45% and one has pitifully few results, the remaining category must have around 45% (plus or minus, depending on that 'pitifully few' category)—hardly the landslide he claims.
• He does well to cite numerous studies, but they, too, appear (given the summary shared with us) to have dubious elements—with some of their methodologies and/or conclusions. 
• In places, he appears to contradict himself with statements on the subjectivity and complexity of the topic, betraying the 'conclusive' studies or 'objective' claims he had made earlier. 

To be clear, I don't think he (or the researchers he cites) are idiots; I think they are fumbling around as they try to bring scientific rigor to a topic with a tremendous amount of variables and judgment calls.

Though there is some value here, this is neither a conclusive nor scientific work.

Rating: C

To Kill a Mockingbird (Harper Lee)

Jean Louise ("Scout") Finch is growing up in 1930s Alabama. She and her big brother, Jem, spend their days as you'd expect in a small country town—dreading school, enjoying time with their friends, avoiding difficult neighbors, and pondering life's mysteries (to include some bizarre townsfolk). Things take a hard turn when their father, Atticus, is called to defend a local black man (Tom) against rape claims. Lodged by a good-for-nothing white family, the case is clear as black and white, but Tom stands no chance due to his skin color. Scout and Jem will learn a lot about justice, hypocrisy, and the prejudice in men's souls—and how to self-forgetfully love through it all.

I am ashamed to say I had never, to my recollection, read this before. But I'm so glad I addressed that . . . this is an amazing book. Powerful messages, subtle humor, and a poignant portrait of the South (and childhood) make this a winner. The author does well to represent not only the prejudice in others but also those of the narrator and her brother . . .  and Atticus Finch is a shining example of empathy, grace, and good.

Rating: A

Welcome to Your Perfect Home

Today's review is of the 2018 release, Welcome to Your Perfect Home. For 1-100 (!) players, it takes 25 minutes.

Overview

You are an architect building a neighborhood in 1950s America. Your job is to add pools, parks, fences, and assign house numbers in the most productive and pleasing way possible. But going against up to 99 other players, you'd better have your house(s) in order if you hope to have the most points at the end.

example 5-player game; image from here

Each round, you will assign house numbers (and do other things, as summarized below). To assign a house number, you  must choose a home on one of the three streets in your town and place the number on its roof. Here's the kicker, though—house numbers must ascend on each street. They needn't be consecutive (you can have 1, 2, 5, 8, for example), but they must be sequential (so no 4, 2, 8).

This game is played by all players simultaneously. Each 'round,' you will have a choice of three number-and-symbol pairs. Pick one, assigning the number to an eligible house, and using the symbol as directed by the game. The symbols are:

- pool: if you just assigned a house number to a property with a pool, circle the pool and cross out the lowest-numbered pool symbol at the bottom of your paper

- park: choose the street where you just assigned the house number and cross out the lowest-numbered tree symbol on it

- surveyor: build a fence anywhere on your board; it need not be adjacent to the house number you just assigned

- realtor: choose a column with estate sizes [a set of houses enclosed by a fence] at the bottom of your paper and cross out the lowest number on it. (At the end of the game, you will get points based on how many estates you have of that size, so this will influence where you build fences.)

- temp agency: add or subtract 1 from your current number, and then assign that number to an eligible house. Cross off the lowest corresponding symbol on the bottom of the paper.

- BIS: duplicate a house number already assigned on a street. This new number must be assigned to a house directly adjacent to the one duplicated. Cross off the lowest corresponding symbol on the bottom of the paper.

example scorecard; image from here

If, in a given round, you cannot assign a house number, you fill in a spot on the bottom of the paper as indicated in the rules, and if this happens to any player three times, the game ends and final scores are tallied. Highest score wins!

Review

A "roll & write"-style game, this was my first experience of the genre. It was decent. I like the simultaneous play and general concept. There are two meaningful decisions here: which number/symbol pair to choose each round, and which house to assign the chosen number. The latter decision diminishes as the game progresses and your streets fill with numbered homes, which then affects the former decision. So the game 'constricts' as you progress and locks you in to certain choices. Thus, I felt the late-game anticlimactic, but it is okay overall.

Rating: B