Planet Utah

The dew point and relative humidity, demystified (see what I did there?)

As some of you know, I am a keen watcher of the dew point. Having grown up in bone-dry Phoenix, I was worried about moving to Austin--and other humid places--in part because of the high average dew point during the warmer months. Once the dew point (or, more correctly, the dew point temperature) gets above 60 or so, I start to notice. Above 65, I get uncomfortable. Above 70, I cry.

But it isn't just me. Those same basic benchmarks hold for most of the population. Dew points below 60 are considered comfortable; in the 60s things get increasingly humid and unpleasant; in the 70s or higher they are downright miserable.

Periodically, as I talk about the dew point in public--as I often do, which undoubtedly contributes to my bachelor status--people ask me what, exactly, the dew point temperature is. What does it measure?

The answer is that it measures the temperature to which the air would have to be cooled (holding pressure and moisture constant) in order for it to be saturated (that is, unable to hold any more water vapor). You see the problem with this definition: intuitively speaking, it doesn't mean a whole lot. You just have to go by the "comfort guidelines" I gave up above. For example, right now in Austin it's 94 degress, with a dew point temperature of 59 degrees. It's quite pleasant if you're standing around outside, even in the sun. But if you begin to exert yourself, it becomes a touch unpleasant. In Phoenix, by contrast, it's currently 91 degrees, with a dew point of 20 degrees. Sounds delightful. Lucky bastards.

Because dew point is not an intuitive measure, why do we bother with it, especially when we've got a perfectly good, perfectly intuitive measure called relative humidity? Actually, relative humidity isn't all that intuitive. Most people think of it as, roughly, the percentage of moisture (or water vapor) in the air. In fact, it's the amount of water vapor in the air relative to the maximum amount of water vapor that could be in the air at the current temperature. So, right now in Austin, the relative humidity is only 31 percent. That means that the air has only 31 percent as much water vapor in it as it could hold at 94 degrees. That's why it's pleasant outside.

The problem with relative humidity as a measure is that warmer air can hold more moisture. If, therefore, you have a relative humidity of 65 percent at 110 degrees and 95 degrees, respectively, the former case represents much less moisture in the air than the latter. In other words, relative humidity is a relative measure; it's relative to temperature. Dew point temperature, on the other hand, is an absolute measure.

That, as you no doubt have guessed by now, is why I am a keen watcher of dew points rather than relative humidities.

Austin update

I know you didn't ask, but my stepbrother did. Here's what I told him (via e-mail):

I’ve settled into a normal life here now, so it’s not all that much different from things in Phoenix: working, working out, watching basketball, etc. I’d say the main differences that matter to me are: the proximity of very good nightlife, if/when you need it; a big, accessible body of water in the middle of town; lots of running/biking trails away from traffic; more affordable housing in parts of town I’d actually consider living in; the presence of a good friend from college who is single and likes to go out; and everything is close to everything else, e.g., capitol, university, and downtown bars/clubs are all walking distance from each other.

Bad stuff: downtown parking is a bitch, and the main north-south interstate is almost always congested; there are times that I really would like to meet with people I’m doing work for but cannot (cuz they’re in Phoenix); the social life in the town seems to be dominated by college kids, which is nice if you’re a college kid, but not so nice if you’re an old man; the humidity can make outdoor activities pretty unpleasant; and, I don’t have friends and family here, which sucks on its own, but which also cuts way back on opportunities to socialize, unless you’re willing to socialize alone.

Footnote: is "socialize alone" a form of oxymoron?

Why do we put up with the Clintons?

All politicians lie. As Bob Dole might say, you know it, I know it, and the American people know it. I'm actually sympathetic to many political lies. Politicians are asked to explain every last little thing they've ever said and done. Inevitably, many of those things were not said and done for the purest and most honorable of reasons. But it's probably unreasonable to expect a member of Congress to give answers like this: "Honestly, I didn't care about the bill one way or other, but there's a very large, very important company in my district that really wanted it to pass. They flooded my office with letters and emails, and their top management requested a meeting with me. They told me that this was THE critical issue for them in this session. When somebody says that, you know that if you don't vote the way they want, they're not going to support you the next time around. So yeah, I voted for the bill."

The Clintons are politicians, so they tell lies, too. As I've noted before, though, the weird thing about their lies is that sometimes they're completely unnecessary--that is, they tell lies when the truth wouldn't be particularly damning or damaging--and sometimes they're really bad lies. When I say "really bad lies," I mean that you can demonstrate objectively that they are lies, very often with almost no work. I'm not talking about something that everyone knows is a lie but can't prove, as when George Allen said he made up "macaca" on the spur of the moment. I'm talking about something that everyone knows is a lie and CAN prove, because the evidence to do so is readily available.

It's as if the Clintons are oblivious to this latter point, though. It's as if they define "the truth" as "whatever we, Hillary and Bill, want to believe is true."

This has gotten so bad with Bill that I simply don't believe anything he says anymore. It's not that I think he is always lying. It's just that he lies so often, I no longer trust that he's telling the truth about anything in particular.

There are a few obvious, recent examples of these kinds of Clinton lies. First, there was Hillary's Bosnia story. It appears to have been almost completely fabricated. That was easily verified by people who were there, and by videotape of the event. Second, there was Bill's defense of Hillary's Bosnia story: "...Hillary, one time late at night when she was exhausted, misstated and immediately apologized for it, what happened to her in Bosnia in 1995." Every bit of this is false, something that anyone who knew anything about the story recognized immediately. (National Review pointed to it as a remarkable example of "economy in lying.") Then there was Hillary's statement, reported on Drudge yesterday: “You have to ask yourself, who is the stronger candidate? And based on every analysis, of every bit of research and every poll that has been taken and every state that a Democrat has to win, I am the stronger candidate against John McCain in the fall." Again, this is untrue. What's more, you can show it to be untrue with about five minutes' worth of internet research.

So, at long last, here's my question: why aren't these kinds of lies immediately, permanently discrediting? If I were friends with someone who told lies like these, or in business with someone who told lies like these, my conclusion would be that: (a) they don't have much respect for me as a person, or for my intelligence; (b) they have some serious moral/ethical problems (either that or they're suffering from dementia); and (c) they are not to be trusted.

I think those same conclusions apply to the Clintons, because of the nature of their lies. And yet, there they are, on my television every night, this close to another Democratic nomination, taken seriously as major political figures.

How can this be? Why has America not already dismissed them as people disrespectful of our collective intelligence, as people with serious moral/ethical deficiencies, and as people not to be trusted?

Three things missing from Indiana Jones IV

I saw the movie late last night and enjoyed it. I would, however, rate it as my least favorite Indiana Jones movie. Let me tell you what was missing.

First of all, fun. Indy doesn't have the same smirk and swagger that he had in the earlier movies. Yeah, I know he's older, but that doesn't slow him down at all in the movie. So why not invest him with a little more of that hotshot spirit he used to have? Also, there are few moments of deliberate humor in the movie. Finally, the set pieces just aren't as much of a kick as the earlier ones were. There's nothing nearly as much fun as Indy trying to outrun a giant boulder, or cutting a rope bridge in its middle and hanging on for dear life.

Second, the bad guys aren't loathsome enough. Everyone hates Nazis because everyone knows what they did in the 1930s and 1940s. That's why they make great bad guys; they're so easy to hate. The bad guys in this one, though, are Russians. They slaughtered a lot more people than the Nazis did, but somehow they're just harder to hate. Sure, you dislike them, but you don't necessarily feel like applauding when they get theirs.

Third, the supernatural element in this movie is just too much. I don't want to spoil it for you, so I won't tell you what that element is. But think back to the first movie and the third movie. In those two movies, the supernatural figured prominently, but it was connected to something most people believe in: God. In this movie, the supernatural figures prominently, and it's connected to something that I not only don't believe in, I've never even heard of. It may have been invented for the movie, for all I know. In any event, it makes the movie a bit ridiculous at the end, and makes you retroactively care much less about what has come before.

All of that being said, there was one thing that made the movie worth the price of admission: seeing Harrison Ford look like a movie star again. Whatever he had back in the days of Han Solo and the first Indiana Jones movie, he's still got, and it's on display here. Nice to have him back.

Wishful thinking

Yesterday, I heard an extended sound clip in which Barack Obama said that criticism of his wife Michelle was out of bounds. Sorry, bub: your decision to make her one of your chief spokespeople makes her a legitimate campaign issue. If you don't want her to be criticized, then tell her to stay at home.

Footnote: alternatively, tell her that she can quit saying crazy stuff.

Injectable medications on a plane

No, it's not a sequel to "Snakes on a Plane." If only! Can you imagine? "I have had it with these m*********ing injectable medications on this m*********ing plane!"

Actually, it's another puzzling observation on airport security. Yesterday, I went through security with four syringes filled with injectable meds. The syringes were in a quart-sized bag with a cold gel pack. The gel pack itself held much, much more than three ounces of gel. The syringes could have been filled with some ingredient that could incapacitate or kill the flight crew and pilots.

So, what did the TSA folks say as my meds passed through the scanner? Not a word.

The Democratic tension

I was jogging yesterday and thinking about what's going on in the Democratic party. On the one hand, they've got a guy who within a couple of weeks will have effectively won their presidential nomination. On the other hand, they've got a woman who will have effectively lost the nomination, but who would be a stronger candidate against John McCain. Fairness dictates that you let Obama have the nomination, but judiciousness dictates that you let Hillary have it.

I think this tension between fairness (or justice, or, reaching a little, social justice) on the one hand and judiciousness on the other comes up a lot for Democrats.

Take a look at Social Security, for example. If you ask your average Democrat what's fair, they'll say that giving everyone the benefits they've been promised is fair. To do that, though, you'll either have to borrow unprecedented amounts of money from abroad, or you'll have to raise taxes so high that they could have a dire impact on the economy. Neither would be judicious.

So, do you do what's fair or what's judicious?

You can set up that same basic tension when you look up the minimum wage, taxation of businesses and the wealthy, health care coverage, gas prices, whatever (even some aspects of foreign polilcy). You can break Democrats' choices into a group that they would call fair, and a group that, while not fitting the Democratic definition of fair, would nonetheless be judicious.

Of course, Democrats don't acknowledge this. They don't see a dilemma at all. They see their policies as being fair, and non-Democratic policies as being greedy, or racist, or opportunistic, or classist, or elitist, or mean-spirited, or hard-hearted, or hateful, or ignorant, or whatever. If you didn't think that way, you wouldn't be a Democrat. But when it comes down to it, I think it really is--much of the time, anyway--a contest between fairness and judiciousness. And because Democrats are Democrats, fairness usually wins. I suspect it will this time, too, and Barack Obama will be nominated. That will be fair, but it also will considerably increase the odds of a McCain presidency.

Footnote: I'm not quite sure if there's a similar Republican tension. I think they think their policies are smart, tough, realistic, whatever. I think they'd say that "fair" is nice, but some unfairness is the price of our political and economic freedom. Furthermore, they'd say that government's job (outside of the context of law and order and the enforcement of rights) doesn't extend to promoting fairness--EXCEPT to the extent of un-doing existing policies that are unfair (usually adopted by Democrats).

But what's the flip side for Republicans? I'm not sure. Maybe "out of touch"? When they pursue policies they consider realistic or smart or tough, maybe those policies can be seen as--and/or actually are--out of touch with political realities (mainstream American public opinion) and empirical realities (certain policies can be shown to work, and certain policies can be shown not to work).

Will the Clintons sue?

When the the DNC rules committee meets on May 31, 2008 it may decide to restore half of Michigan's and Florida's national convention delegates. If this doesn't happen, Hillary Clinton is finished. So if it doesn't happen, will she take her own party to court?

Dear God I hope so.

What the hell is going on with Phoenix weather?

Yahoo weather says that the high tomorrow is going to be 107. Then on Wednesday, it's going to be 95. Then on Thursday it's going to be 75. At this rate you'll be entering a new ice age some time late Sunday.

Austin bucket list update

Another thing on my Austin to-do list was to kick my caffeine habit. In my heyday, I would regularly drink two or three 16-ounce bottles of Diet Pepsi each day. On a bad day, that number could go as high as five or six. Even on a good day, though, it was always at least one.

Well, yesterday I had no caffeine and no withdrawal headache. That's the first day since I've been in Austin that I can say that. I'm going to consider my habit kicked.

Footnote: next up are artificially sweetened, caffeine-free beverages. Gotta go. That pretty much leaves water. Not very exciting. I'm trying not to think of it as just water, though. When I'm about to crack open a bottle I think, "Ah yes--cool, refreshing water. It's nature's candy. Mmmmmm..."