Happy Sunday! Here’s this week’s list of things to check out:

Scratchpad

On the /macapps subreddit, Sindre Sorhus’s apps are often recommended for a variety of use cases, but also due to their high level of design quality. I recently read about Scratchpad on MacStories, and while it didn’t necessarily resonate as something I needed immediately, the gushy review gave me pause. I have, on many occasions, tried a simple text or markdown document on my desktop as a quick place to jot notes, a quick inbox for latter consideration. There is no shortage of solutions like this: Stickies, Drafts, Notes, and even your favorite text editor.

Scratchpad, like Tot, enforces some limitations that are likely for the good of parsimony: it’s one window, and one window only. It’s plain text. It runs on all of your Apple devices, though, so unlike something like Bike, which would be a great use case for such an outliner, you can open Scratchpad on any device and be right back where you were the last time you used it. It’s so simple that it threatens to be useless, but I suspect I’ll end up using it all the time.

Another note: Scratchpad is another inbox. In GTD, you should use as many inboxes as you need, but no more. I’m circumspect about adding any more, but again, I have flirted with this idea so often that I suspect I’ll get a lot out of Scratchpad.

Cool features include iCloud sync, translucency (toggle-able), and theme switching. I set the font to IBM Plex straight away.

Apple Polishing Cloths

As with black input devices, Apple is known for comically high prices on items that raise eyebrows. Case in point: Apple’s polishing cloth. The notion of paying $20 for a polishing cloth is at once laughable and curious. I’ve always been pretty happy with the black microfiber ones they bundled with their kit for a while, and like to scrub my screens when I’m talking to someone in my office.

Woot recently had them up for sale for $6.99, so I bought three, almost entirely out of curiosity. They came yesterday, and I opened one for Rhonda and wiped her iMac screen with it, and then opened a second for myself, which I used on my 32” Samsung attached to my Mac Studio, and then my iPad.

I don’t think I’d pay $20 for one, but after using it, I’m more likely to pay that much than before. They have a structural rigidity to them that I didn’t expect, and a thickness that allows you to wipe without putting quite so much pressure on the screen.

Spring

March has always been a vexatious month, teasing with occasionally warmer temperatures of April and May, but mercurial in its expression, with cold, windy days preponderant. I dislike the extremes of summer and winter, and appreciate the moderate weather of spring and fall. Spring especially resonates in our collective unconscious, inspiring a feeling of hopeful rebirth and thawing of our wintered, cloistered selves.

I remember talking to my grandfather, late in his life, and he said, “I made it through another winter.” There is something about winter that calls for survival; it’s surely connected to our evolution as a species and culture. Our bodies remember that this was a time when survival was not a matter of sweaters, scarves, and one-pot dinners, but rather a time when things might get both scarce and hostile to our mortal, but no less clever, selves.

Whew: all of that to say that I’m excited Rhonda put up some Easter garland. I love the pastel colors.

In American Philosphy , philosopher and professor John Kaag, beset by personal circumstances, undertakes to catalog the neglected personal library of William Hocking. As he combs the stacks and chronicles the delights and challenges he faces, Kaag peppers his reflections with references to philosophy. It works well as a non-textbook-style review of the philosophy without coming across as a survey or critical examination, and explicates a larger point: the place for philosophy in daily life. It is, in structure, similar to his excellent Hiking with Nietzsche, trading the Nietzschean hikes in the Swiss Alps for climbs among the library’s stacks.

In American Philosophy, Hocking’s private library, still standing as a drafty, neglected museum of first editions and personally imprinted tomes, allows Kaag to leaf through pages and reconsider the cannon.

What’s appreciable about American Philosophy, as with _Hiking with Nietzsche,_is that neither books are attempts at defense or critique (although the latter shoots the occasional dart at Kant). In addition to Hocking’s work, he reviews the writing and thought of James, Emerson, and other luminaries of America’s contributions to philosophy, as well as Hocking’s own life.

As Kaag points out, American philosophy has never been included in the classical cannon of philosophy: “To this day, American philosophy is regarded as provincial and narrow in its focus, just another by-product of the nation’s political and cultural exceptionalism,” he writes.

Rather than a unifying system of thought, American philosophy, in Kaag’s analysis, reveals a cannon that leans heavily on its forebears, borrowing and hybridizing from both the Bible and European thinkers. American philosophy is connected, in its development, to other models of thought, including existentialism. It’s historically satisfying and unifying in showing American philosophy’s evolution from its European forebears.

Wonder and mystery feature heavily in the upshots of American philosophy; there’s an optimistic aura of wonder and mystery that distinguishes it from European philosophy. And while there is not a defense or refutation of American philosophy itself in Kaag’s book, he does offer this:

Philosophy, and the humanities more generally, once served as an effective cult of the dead—documenting, explaining, and revitalizing the meaning and value of human pursuits. It tried to figure out how to preserve what is noble and most worthy about us. At its best, philosophy tried to explain why our lives, so fragile and ephemeral, might have lasting significance.

As a younger man in college growing distant from my religious upbringing, I found in philosophy a kind of replacement: in Nietzsche, the call to forge one’s own values and ideals, and bringing meaning to one’s own life in the absence of one anointed truth. So, too, in writing: polishing my verbal effluvia into structured writing could be, in its own way, a thing that lives beyond me. That continues in me to this day, and is easily relatable to becoming a leader: lacking external direction is a reliable feature of adulthood, and the capacity to generate priorities and values is paramount .

Too, it connects to this post here on Uncorrected, a quick one-off pull quote with a comment, on why anyone undertakes the task of writing and publishing: in the absence of waiting for Godot, instead of waiting for the promises of an afterlife, American philosophy approaches human existence as a mystery:

Gabriel Marcel’s comment that “life is not a problem to be solved but a mystery to be experienced…

More importantly, it reveals an important feature of philosophy (and, I might add, the arts themselves, and perhaps our entire generative proclivity as a species, echoing Erik Erikson’s description of self-actualizing whereby we evolve, if we’re lucky enough, to generativity):

Philosophy, and the humanities more generally, once served as an effective cult of the dead—documenting, explaining, and revitalizing the meaning and value of human pursuits. It tried to figure out how to preserve what is noble and most worthy about us. At its best, philosophy tried to explain why our lives, so fragile and ephemeral, might have lasting significance.

We often quietly toil in some way unique to ourselves: behind a keyboard, in an office, repairing things, whatever. Our hope is that our efforts spread beyond our own narrow interests, and, in their way, supplant our quiet, desperate hope for an idyllic afterlife with something less fantastical, but no less immortal.

I haven’t had much to say about rowing here, but that’s not because I haven’t been. In addition to often logging meters seven days a week (with the occasional day off), I’ve been doing steady state most days (intervals twice a week minimum, but no more than three), but mostly in zone two. Zone two is the new hotness.

Here are a couple of screen grabs from Concept2’s Log Book. First, a 1K from January of 2024:

So a 2:02 pace, not fast for that low a shorter piece, but emblematic of my longer steady state efforts from that era (including my best-ever 2:02 10K. And the stroke rate: 30 rpm.

Next is a more recent 1K piece, at a slower 2:04 pace, but only 25 rpm:

So that’s what I’ve been after: base meters at a more comfortable pace, but pushing harder on the work side.

Just like rowing!

One thing I did notice peripheral to the holiday was that I was getting some crappy sleep. I was going to sleep later, and waking up earlier. Bad combo.

I can’t say it’s 100%, but I blame my in-bed use of the iPad Mini. I was getting back into using RSS and Safari’s Reading List, looking at old additions to my list and recategorizing my feeds.

Reading in this way, on such a device, is for me a far more active activity than reading a book or article. There’s a fair bit of bouncing around and looking at Notes and starting drafts when the muse hits.

Reading on an E Ink screen, save for some highlighting and notetaking (I only highlight), is much more traditional, linear reading experience. Sure, you can fall prey to endless library of books and previews available to you, but it’s easy to just fall into your book for a while. I start to get groggy when I’m reading on my Kobo after a bit, and it’s evident when it’s time to hit the hay. I’ve dropped it on my face a time or two.

So I pledged to myself to only read E Ink screens in bed. After Readwise each night, i’d switch over to the Kobo. I also pushed the time I assemble the dogs for their final walk, clean up for bed, and make sure everything is in its right place down to 930 pm.

I find reading makes me tired, and not switching contexts between apps and taking notes and more is more relaxing (if boring) compared to reading on the iPad mini.

Except for the weekends.

I’ve been able to track my sleep using my Apple Watch since upgrading to the 7, but I never used it for that purpose because I always needed to charge it by bedtime, and that made the most sense to me.

Upgrading this past November (my birthday) to an Apple Watch X, I was able to benefit from longer battery life, yes, but also swapping watches when the juice in one gets low. Especially since the whole Masimo thing, it’s nice to be able to still measure my blood oxygen. So long story short: I have plenty of runway to track my sleep now.

Apple Health is fairly neutral on the subject of your sleep quality. It reports your total sleep time, and separates your sleep into Core, Deep, REM, and Awake categories.

Apps like Sleep+ and the Withings app offer more qualitative assessments of your sleep. Neither like my not-quite-seven hours of nightly sleep. And they both report that my sleep isn’t restorative, because there’s not enough REM or Deep.

I figured that’s probably due to the length of my sleep. If I slept longer, I’d get more REM and Deep, right?

Not so fast.

Friday into Saturday often yields more sack time, as does Saturday into Sunday. You might expect the 11 hours total I got last night would have yielded some extra REMs. But that’s not the case.

There are a few hypotheses you could generate to explain this. First, it’s possible that your REM and Deep sleep depend on your average nightly rest, not single sessions. That wouldn’t surprise me. It’s also possible there’s something I could be doing differently to influence those numbers. There’s always the possibility that you can’t do much about your sleep phases, which one of the apps even mentions.

AppyHour’s “Taste of Ireland” Box

Rhonda ordered AppyHour’s “Taste of Ireland” limited release box after some hesitation (ie the price) to celebrate Monday. I don’t generally equate Ireland with anything besides cheddar cheese, and that is here in spades, with a very nice two-year aged variety. But the Cashel Bleu is outstanding. I really like the mustard they included too.

Sharrott Winery’s Spicy Pepperoni Flatbread

Sharrott Winery is the perfect spot for a quiet chat with someone you love, over a bottle of their rosé, and something to chew on. The spicy pepperoni flatbread is a nice, chewy dough topped with natural casing pepperoni. It could stand a turn in a hotter oven, but it’s still a great dish.

Bellview Winery’s Fiona

Fiona does not appeal to me visually, and hearing the taste profile made me pretty sure I’d dislike it, but the latter was not the case. Like Bellview’s Sunrise wine, it’s “off-dry” or “semi-sweet,” interchangeable descriptors that are best used depending upon who you’re trying to sell to, I suppose. But it has enough acid and sturdiness for this oenophile.

I just scratched “waiting for wordland” off of my OmniFocus list. Dave Winer created this super-fast, dead-simple posting tool for WordPress. You can write a proper post, but you can post Mastodon-length toots too. It’s so fast and simple.

Wordland

More sunlight (thanks DST!) makes smash burgers even more likely for dinner. We love them but they’re a fair bit of work.

I use two 56-gram (2 oz) patties per sandwich, and an onion-burger option for adventurous diners. I make an imitation In-and-Out Animal Sauce too.

Hey! It’s Daylight Savings Time. This will jack up my sleep a bit but I like longer daylight hours in the evening.

Here’s this week’s list of things to check out:

Radial Launchers for macOS

I missed the boat on these radial launcher utilities for the Mac, but I see the discussion remains strong on the /macapps subReddit. I installed Launchy and the difficult-to-spell Pieoneer on my Mac and am trying them both out.

These types of apps might scratch the itch I find missing from my Max Menus days, which was a Mac OS X app I purchased back in the day and used with great affection.

I don’t like how crowded they are on my Mac Studio at home, where I leave a lot of apps running. I have a 32” display, so the menu could be much bigger. Only Launchy offers resizable palettes, but even at the largest size, it looks crowded:

My command-tab (macOS default app switcher) and command-space (Launchbar) muscle memory is so trained at this point, I don’t know if there’s another mode of app switching in my life. But I would like something visual and gesturally tighter than command-tab at this point. Especially with my using a Magic Trackpad at home these days. Pieoneer has nice sounds and haptics, so it wins for now.

Baron De Ley 2019 Varietales Garnacha (Rioja)

Rhonda and I had this at the Greenview on Friday with NY Strip and lamb chops. Highly overpriced, as you might expect when buying in a restaurant, but we enjoyed it.

A Festive Spouse

I often joke that I’d live in a cinderblock room, unappointed, bachelor-pad stylee were it not for Rhonda. It’s a fault for sure. But I benefit by proximity, and I love when she changes the LED lights on these surfaces to match the holiday. And while my favorite color is blue, I really do enjoy green. Here is this season’s delightful LED array in the kitchen and my office.

One of my key weight loss strategies was cutting calories. I didn’t ban anything from my diet, but took a hard look at portions. Cocktails were the very first target. To this day, I only make a tiny cocktail for myself, and it has worked for me long before I started tracking calories.
I knew I cut down the size, and because I measure when I make cocktails, I knew how much rye and vermouth went into the drink, but simply measuring the poured drink isn’t the way to tell how many calories you’re sliding down your gullet. A properly made cocktail is going to be diluted from the stirring (or shaking, if you’re an animal) step, so my 2.5 oz Manhattan doesn’t have 2.5 oz of booze in it.
I wanted to figure this out for myself once I started using FoodNoms to track my calories, the adoption of which was mostly to help me better understand how much I eat in a day, and hopefully prevent me from gaining weight back after working so hard to lose it.
I started by calculating the calorie load of the entire cocktail batch I was making:
– 90 grams of whisky: 205 calories
– 30 grams of vermouth: 44 calories
– 5 grams of bitters: 5 calories
Normally you could stop there; if you split the cocktail batch evenly between two people, you’d just halve the calories in the batch (254/2) and log. But I wasn’t drinking half of that; I was having a cocktail that yielded a 2.5-oz drink, while Rhonda’s was more like 4.5 oz.
So I figured out of seven ounces, I was drinking about 35% of the cocktail, which would be around 81 calories. I’ve worked this out using Excel and even Soulver in the past.
I checked in with ChatGPT about this, and even though I had to correct it once (it oddly figured that I was drinking half of the undiluted booze), the LLM figured I’m having about 85 calories in my drink.
The best part about using ChatGPT, though, was starting the chat led to the model asking me some questions, including if I garnished the drink. I replied that I put a twist of orange in each, and it described this as “expressing” to orange skin into the glass. I had never heard the term applied to mixology before, but like my example of “productivity rain dances” the other day, it resonated immediately as an effective word to describe what I was doing.

Really looking forward to this. I was a big fan of the comic as a child, and lucked into Frank Miller’s Born Again story line when I started reading the title.