knemeyer.com

Love and regret

Sat, 27 Feb 2010 23:33:39 CST

Last year my son Brandon visited and we had what was for me the best trip we've ever had: we went and saw Moby in concert and spent a lot of good time together. My favourite moment was when he was helping me to cut and prepare a prototype for a game I am designing; more on that in future posts. During our work together, at a table with big piles of paper and scissors and making a bit of a mess, we were listening to each other's music. He would play a song he liked; I would play a song I liked. As we listened to what each other liked and shared that bit of ourselves, I felt closer to him than I ever have before, with the exception of when he used to look up at me when I was feeding him as a baby.

It was an experience that completely re-framed the relationship I could have with my children. I realized that spending time like that with Brandon made me happier than I otherwise am. It filled me with energy, connection and a depth and quality of satisfaction that is hard to describe or quantify. More than my son, Brandon was someone I wanted to be friends with. This was a remarkable revelation: in that and certainly other experiences it became clear that this is a person who I want in my life not out of obligation or genetics or the normal rhythm of family but because he makes my life better. I desperately hope he feels the same way.

Coming off that visit I found myself looking to the future: when would we be able to live in close proximity and spend time together? When and how could we be appropriately integrated into each others' lives? This was something I no longer simply wanted as a father who loves his son, but as a person who cares genuinely for another. It was truly exhilarating and drove me to dream about moving back to Toledo, or his keeping his promise of moving to live by me for college

In the subsequent months I began nascently planning to move back to Ohio, to forge such a relationship with he and his brother. Over the last few months as I started driving toward this it became ever-clearer that it probably would not happen. Toledo is right in the heart of the rust belt, reliant on an auto industry in decline, and is among the poorest cities in the country. It would be impossible in a certain way to carve out a life that would enable and justify such a move.

What would I do there? Would I want this decaying region to be a platform for my new children and family to come? It ultimately seemed impossible, and in the process of ruling this move out the journey I began some six years ago when I first moved from Toledo to Boston (for the first time) was painfully complete: barring one of them deciding to leave their friends and what is familiar behind to join me I will essentially miss the day-to-day growth of my first two sons.

The loss I feel in the absence of my sons is the only truly profound, deep, ripping pain and regret in my life. There are not words to properly convey it. Closing this final opportunity to participate more fully in that simply shredded the existing scars open again.

But ultimately it is more than that. Ever since Brandon told me he would move to live with or by me in college some years ago I have clung to that with hope and desperation. Sometimes he says things that put it into doubt: that he wants to go to college with his friend Mike in Reno (!) being a recent example. And while I realized that particular comment was just a dream from a young man it punctuated the tenuousness of the promise being fulfilled. It even made me question it: should I even aspire to guide him toward me? Is that degree of determinism over the choices my son makes "correct"? I think I have an obscene amount of wisdom, insight and life experience to share with him that is being missed by our separation. We are both worse for the lack. What is the balance between striving to illuminate your son, self and family, and encouraging independence and self-determinism? These are not necessarily mutually exclusive, but they have the potential to be.

Every day, as I think about these things - and it is, quite literally, every day - and as his radiant visit moves another day farther into the past, the poignancy and potential of the moment fade away a little bit more. If for the rest of my life my sons are but periodic visitors, what does that mean for them, and for me, and for us? When I imagine this future it leaves me questioning a literal cascade of decisions I made from the mid-1990's until my move now years ago.

Right before I left Toledo Brandon and I were at my parents' house, sitting on the couch and talking. I remember it with absolute clarity. I asked him if he wanted to talk about my move and if he had any questions or feelings he wanted to share. He looked at me and said, "Why do you have to go to Boston?", in the process shifting from holding his normal little face and countenance to bawling uncontrollably. I held him and re-assured him and had virtually no doubt my move was the correct thing despite his sadness. How little did I know.

To both of my sons, I am profoundly sorry for leaving. At the time it seemed like the only possible choice, for my career and for my attempt to find a life partner. In no way regretting my life and family today, which I deeply love and appreciate and would not give up, if I could have that decision over again I would certainly not have left.

Finding a fit

Tue, 23 Feb 2010 11:46:24 CST

It is hard to believe that more than 36 years have passed since I burst into the world as a crying, needy, newly-minted baby beginning to explore my way through the world. Some may suggest I am still a crying, needy baby but my own ongoing deficiencies are not the purpose for this particular writing!

Like most people in modern western civilization I grew up being conditioned to believe in "the myth of endless love." That is both an academic term, which was met by this reader with violent disagreement and abject horror over 13 years ago in graduate school, and an objective reality as experienced by that same reader in the undulating and heartbreaking years that punctuated points in my adult life. That is, the romantic cultural notion of two people being destined to meet and fall into a life of love and bliss is indeed clearly a myth, one being perpetuated as fact across popular media. Even though we practically realize it is myth - most people get divorced, virtually none of us end up spending our life with the first person we fell in love with - we continue to strive for it as some necessary component of "happiness" and/or "completeness" and/or "fulfillment" (keep adding your own shinyhappy states of bliss to the list). It is a disservice to ourselves; it is a disservice to our children who are formulating their ideas about the world. It is because of and for my son that I am writing this.

I had a conversation with my eldest son the last time he was in town, at age 15, that clearly communicated he holds many of the same idealistic, romantic notions and aspirations for love and life that I did as a 15 year old: I would fall in love with my One Perfect Partner at a very young age, be Romantic and Good and True, get Married, have a Big Family, and have as my greatest aspiration someday enjoying a 50th Wedding Anniversary. Yes, that is really how I saw the world as a 15 year-old. And while perhaps unusual for a boy of that age it was certainly aligned with the cultural biases and pressures being communicated to us from every possible direction. Pursuing that life led me into many years of personal struggle and unhappiness. Hearing the same aspirations come out of the lips of my son, at the same stage in his life, made me feel a brand of panic and anxiety that really only comes when you can see farther into the horizon of your child's life than they are willing or able to see, and truly know better than they do. Thus began a still-ongoing debate in my mind of how best to attempt to guide or communicate with or even manipulate him in a way that he can bypass some of the lessons that scarred me in ways both distant and familiar.

To be clear, I actually think I've lived a fairly fortunate romantic adult life: with the exception of my profoundly misfit and unhappy first marriage from ages 18 to 25 - that did provide me two spectacular sons - I have enjoyed long-term relationships with truly good, admirable, dynamic, lovely, interesting women - each some blend of those adjectives - all of whom I am still close with and love dearly. In each case, we were unfortunately "misfits". The relationships themselves were punctuated with some blend of drama, stress, anxiety and friction that ultimately resulted in our parting ways. From a life experience perspective I suppose I can say I feel blessed to have seen that from every perspective: as the one leaving, as the one being left, and our leaving mutually. That they remain in my life in various ways with warm and good feelings felt by all is really a splendid and fortunate thing.

Still, as I went through these relationships there was an increasing sense of loss, fatigue and...inauthenticity. I can remember looking in the mirror at a very unhappy point in one of these relationships, openly crying and imploring to myself, "How many women can I tell 'I love you and will be with you forever' before it has lost all meaning and purpose?" For someone who once considered himself a deeply devoted romantic, this is a betrayal of self and renunciation of essence that is nearly without equal.

During these years in my life I was growing, becoming more mature and seeing the world in different ways. I was able to identify that "endless love" is truly a myth and that we as near-primitive animals simply go through life - all facets of our life - doing the best we can and living within the bounds of what we are able for who and what we are at that time. While I was forced to euthanize and bury a certain soft, thoughtful, romantic part of a once-feckless young man, that sad expiration did provide me with some degree of freedom: realization that my goodness and the quality of me as a person is not ultimately measured by promising to and then doggedly attempting at all costs to truly be with someone forever. It made the imperfections of myself, my past and the world instantly manageable and reconcilable. It divorced my love relationships from serving as a constant test of my being a "good boy", or not.

Then came Sigrid. To be clear, we've been together for less than two years. You could say we are in the honeymoon stage, and only time will tell how this latest journey is going to end. Point taken. However, for the first time in my life I feel like I am with someone who simply fits. The best relationship I previously had - now a decade ago, my God how is my life passing so quickly? - was wonderful and loving and good in a very special way. But there was still the drama, the arguments, the mis-alignment. With that woman, it really came down to one thing: she was a wonderfully social extravert who wanted to be out in the world and I was a home-bound introvert who wanted to simply be close and intimate. The "pulling in opposite directions" of that essential bit created conflict and made us both unhappy. It was exacerbated with my being, and this may not clinically have been true but is the only word I can think of to give an idea, co-dependent. Maybe with the maturity I have at 36 instead of 26 it would have been different, but what we were missing at that time and place was fit.

I don't claim my relationship with Sigrid is perfect. We disagree here, have an argument there. I'm not who she would precisely request "to order" from God, nor is she for I. But, for example, when I get irritated and stubborn and am an idiot, rather than challenging and fighting me she gives me space. And when I calm down I am grateful for that space and genuinely apologetic and sorry. How many times in the past with a different person, that same situation would have instead become a hugely escalating argument that ruined a weekend?! This is just one example of a very consistent theme, where the ways in which I am broken and deficient have a comfortable place in which to exist. I cannot adequately describe the feeling of comfort, liberation, even joy in that experience of sharing a life with another person in that way. It is certainly unique in my experience, and based on the people I've coupled with and how "compatible" in various other ways I would still consider myself to be with them I have to think this is an incredibly rare, fortuitous, blessed thing. Or maybe it's just that I'm tough to live with, but let's leave that mis-shapen little piece of baggage where it is for the moment.

Might our sense of equilibrium change? Sure. I can't see the future. But what makes me optimistic is I've never had this before. Maybe in the first weeks of a new relationship. Maybe for a month or two. Maybe.

The strange thing about finding my fit is that it makes me believe in love again. In a different way, perhaps, but a real way. A meaningful way. I don't know that Romantic Dirk will ever be resurrected in the giving-martyr incarnation he once was, but perhaps that person and that mode of behaviour was simply a relic of a mis-guided and immature time and should not remain a gossamer aspiration.

The life lesson I have taken from all of this, and the thing I wish I could transfer into the mind, heart and soul of my son to help him avoid some of the tortured heartbreak and desperate love that I lived through would be to slowly find your fit. Loving and coupling with a person should not intrinsically intertwine with some notion of duty and honour, serving as a crucible for you or others judging your goodness, authenticity and commitment. Each of us need to find the person we fit with, and we probably aren't going to do that right away. It is to that compatible person, the one who allows you to be the person you are and aspire to be in a comfortable and relaxed way, that you should endeavour to be with.

The parental paradox, of course, is: how do you impart this wisdom unto your child without their needing instead to learn the same things through painful life experience? Is it even possible? (This is a real not rhetorical question, would greatly appreciate guidance and mentorship on this!)

As for me, I'm blessed to have found and be with Sigrid. Maybe I've found my elusive forever. And even if I haven't, there is an internal quiet and sense of proportionality that leaves me calmly assured I will be loved and cared for by marvelous friends and family, regardless.

Why this website is here

Sun, 21 Feb 2010 13:35:39 CST

I launched this website in 2004, a formalization and extension of a previous blog I was maintaining on Blogger. At the time I was right around my peak point in a personal branding campaign that began as part of trying to use celebrity branding to help my previous employer gain market credibility, then extended into my own entrepreneurial endeavours. Little did I know that the realities of running a small business would all but kill my capacity to write and network in the necessary way to maintain a celebrity brand in my industry. In the intervening years I have settled comfortably into obscurity relative to my past prominence, and I really have no complaints. Indeed, celebrity branding doesn't really interest me anymore and I would only do it out of a sense of necessity, not desire or ambition.

Thus, in the 5+ years of this website's existence it has shifted, perhaps even in its earliest days, to be something that is more personal than public, its continued publication on this most-public Internet notwithstanding. Most of my writing, and certainly all of my writing that has mattered to me, deals with issues of meaning and the human condition. Increasingly my hope is to do just two things: in the immediate, to publish content that helps people get better in touch with themselves and the people they care about by sharing my own observations, thoughts, feelings and insights on the world as filtered through my very sensitive and specific lens. Secondly, and perhaps more enduringly, I intend to preserve the contents of my writings in a permanent and available media for my ancestors to come. While I will be an irrelevant and obscure person to the vast preponderance of the world to come I must imagine that the future generations of my progeny - the children of my children, and their children on downward - may find incredible value, insight and meaning from a deeply examined and expressed life from their direct ancestor. Goodness knows if such a thing existed from my past generations I would have spent significant time looking for lessons and insight about myself and the world within those words.

So it was that I was moved today when an old friend wrote me about my post discussing the birth of my daughter and said, "Reading your thoughts truly makes me feel better being human." In that moment, it struck me that there is perhaps no higher compliment someone could pay to what I am doing here. It is exactly that degree of feeling, depth and meaning that I strive to stir in the people kind enough to read me. And it reminded me why I am doing this, and why I hope to continue doing it until my death or inability to communicate finally calls it to an end.

Crying thrice

Fri, 12 Feb 2010 22:33:42 CST

When our daughter Elena Marie was born almost two weeks ago on Sunday January 31 I cried not once, but thrice. This won't surprise anyone who knows me well, as I certainly cry more than a big, strong, card-carrying member of the male gender is supposed to. It was particularly deep and poignant on this day, however, and each moment had particular and specific meaning:

First, when it was clear that her birth was imminent on this date, Sigrid reminded me that my grandfather was born on January 31st. This was a marvelous coincedence. Growing up, home life was a battleground. As a child and adolescent I felt little connection, love and support from my parents. The one person who was always supportive and loving, my "biggest fan", was my grandfather. Through the first 20-something years of my life, no one in my family meant more to me. He died when I was 21 and was the first close relative to die during my life. I often wish and wonder what it would have been like to know him as an adult: what would it have been like to learn from him? Learn about the world, how to live, how to be a man...everything. I sorely lacked for male role models and he would have been the best of all. We just did not share the same time in the right way to enable that sort of man-to-man relationship. Oh, what I wouldn't give for it!

Regardless, when I realized my daughter would share his birthday, I cried out of feelings of deep and abiding joy.

Second, shortly after Elena was born and I went with her through her initial weighing, bath, testing and assessments, it made me think and wonder about my mother's birth. Over 60 years before my mother had been born anew and was taken through some similar process of first being brought into the world. As an adult I have forged a close relatoinship with my mother and love her dearly. In seeing my little daughter in her first moments of life I was led to imagine that my mother was once an infant just like this. Thinking about her in this context made me cry, out of some combination of love, missing and sadness, to imagine how much life she has lived and that my daughter will likely live and grow in a similar way in the many decades ahead.

The final time I cried was when I called my sons, to tell them that their sister was born. As is usually the case I simply got the voicemail, and in the process of leaving a message telling them about it I completely lost it. I miss my sons every day and their absence from my day-to-day life is a source of great sadness. Overwhelmed by their not being with me, and my love for them, and my want for us to be a closer family. This was not just crying, it was bawling. I really miss them.

I'm so thrilled to have a wonderful new daughter, and was blessed that her coming into the world brought me very acutely closer to many of hte people I love most.

The world will never be the same

Sat, 23 Jan 2010 19:29:21 CST

One week from now I will be tending to a freshly-minted, exceptionally needy little baby who has just burst into the world, the product of Sigrid and I. To say the realities of new parenthood will mark a dramatic change to my lifestyle is a bemusing understatement.

Parenthood for me began over 15 years ago with the birth of my eldest son. From the start I enjoyed being a parent, but raising newborns was difficult for me as a very young 20-something. I loved my children and tried my best but found parenting a baby to be frustrating, exhausting, and a perpetual exercise in feelings of personal failure. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't find the patience to parent as I might imagine an exemplar to be. The older my children have gotten, the better a parent I have become. Whether that is my increasing maturity or just being more cut out to parent older children and adults - actually it is probably both - I've been keenly aware of my being more effective as a parent over time. Indeed, it has almost been a generation since I was raising a baby. This will change in the next few days.

I'm in this weird moment of being incredibly excited and more than a little scared. Scared, because I've gotten pretty accustomed to having near-total control of my free time once work is over. That is a comfort afforded by my moving away from the children about six years ago to chase an upwardly mobile career. On balance that move was a decision I regret, as I miss my sons greatly every day. But one of the "perks" of it was having the freedom of a bachelor for much of the year even while enjoying my marvelous sons.

Starting next weekend, now less than a week away, it will only be the odd weekend that I truly have to myself. That will last for years, declining over time, until about 18 years from now the child will leave for university. Or, if there is still one or more children to come, it may be 20 years, or maybe more, before saturday and Sunday means footloose and fancy-free.

By the time I'm 40, my two sons will be away to university. That was something I always considered with wonder and excitement: living the life of a parent and still being young once the children are grown. Now I'm looking at 54, or older, before the home is once again empty and quiet.

None of these are complaints, mind you. It is more an incredibly sober understanding of where I've been, and where I'm going. In fact, these ruminations are the very opposite of complaint: I am thrilled that there is going to be a new being here in the world that is an extension of myself, Sigrid, and generations of ancestors both known and forgotten. There is nothing quite so powerful as looking at your child and seeing the blend of people you love manifest in them, both how they look and behave.

In less than a week, barring something tragic, there is going to be a new little girl, the next Knemeyer, to carry forward. She will be her own little person, a mix of us all, and with any fortune I will be able to watch her grow up nearly every day during her childhood, witnessing that maturation until finally seeing her off as a precocious young woman.

The world will never be the same. Not just for me, Sigrid and our family: for everyone that this new little person comes into contact with. Their lives will be different because of her. Whether she someday proves to be notable or anonymous she will touch many, many people in her life. Hopefully she is blessed to be surrounded by good people who love and nurture and help her to be as well, happy and fulfilled as possible. I know that I will do my part to be such a positive force in her little life, doing my best despite making one ostensible mistake after another.

I don't know what my new life is going to look like entirely; it has been too long since I was raising children every day of every year, much less doing so for an infant. But I know my life will never be the same, and I embrace it even while recognizing that some of the simple things that give me comfort and pleasure now will be sacrificed because of it.

I'm ready for you sweetheart. Daddy's going to do his very best for you. I'm sorry for the many mistakes I will make, but they will be personal failings and character flaws, not any lack of boundless, joyous, unconditional love.

Farewell to 2009

Thu, 07 Jan 2010 00:50:56 CST

Hardest year of my adult life. No question about it. Getting caught in the eye of the 2009 recession took a terrible toll on me mentally, physically and spiritually. Not to mention financially. We had just reached the point of taking the next step forward with Involution, having turned the key on our expansion plans and putting a great long-term plan into place, before 2009 broke it all into pieces and sent Andrei looking for higher ground in the process.

Of course, not everything was bad about 2009: my relationship with Sigrid blossomed. In fact, 2009 was probably my best year personally which gives you some idea of how bad the "bad" was to still make the year, on balance, brutal. More happiness from 2009 included getting close with my oldest son Brandon, developing a great working relationship with my new business partner Juhan, beginning to work closely with Daniel, and perhaps most surprisingly having a new baby girl queued up, due to arrive at the end of January. Only four weeks away! Oh my.

Reviewing the list of good things, it is clear that the people who make up the core of my life are the strong point now. That speaks to building a solid and reliable foundation, and I suspect that will serve me well in the years ahead and be part of why I hopefully have some very lovely years just ahead of me.

It has been my intent to use my "year end" post to look back on the year that was and document the specific highlights and lowlights at some level, to aide my sieve-like mind in remembering the nuance of my life in the future. But I just don't have the will for it. I'm ready to turn the page. Perhaps I will circle back later and do that kind of codification but for now it is onward and upward, hopeful and optimistic for a better year.

The cautionary tale of Russell Hantz

Mon, 21 Dec 2009 14:40:27 CST

One of my guilty pleasures is the television program Survivor. This was a fascinating season, as easily the strongest player in the history of that game - Russell Hantz - employed his unique brand of ruthless manipulation, pragmatic dogmatism and unchecked ego for the entire 39 days of the show's duration. Last night he concluded his tenure being chosen as the runner-up to winner Natalie White, a largely passive player whose victory was due as much to riding in the wake created by Hantz than anything else.

The results of this Survivor season and the aftermath of White's victory provided a lot of grist for considering the human condition. I think trying to summarize the many specifics of the show in a meaningful way will prove too much for this communication format, so I will instead briefly list out the different points that I am considering in chronological order:

- CBS ran frequent commercials about the season before it began focused on Russell and calling him the most "evil" Survivor player ever

- Russell started the show by being openly antagonistic and condescending. He let other players know that he was going to engineer their downfall whenever they crossed him; to the cameras and for the viewers at home he used horribly unflattering words to describe the other players and their relationship to him, including saying he would use them and throw them out like trash and that he would form a "dumb-ass girl alliance" where he manipulated a female player by feigning sexual interest in her

- On the first show, in the middle of the night, Russell dumped out the fresh water from all of his teammate's canteens and burned their socks. His rationale was that he would cause chaos around the tribe and use the chaos and physical weakness it presented to begin dictating people's behaviours

- In the first two shows he targeted and eliminated the two strongest women in his tribe, seeing them as threats to his continued survival and emerging leadership

- As the Rasputin-style leader of his tribe, Foa Foa, Russell guided their whittling down, as they fell behind the competing tribe, Galu, eventually trailing with only 4 people remaining to counter the 8 of Galu when the tribes merged

- During this period Russell found the first of 3 hidden Immunity Idols, a one-time privilege that prevent a player from being voted off one time. He found these idols without any clues - a Survivor first to do just once, let alone three times - by getting down in the dirt and mud and searching for them the (very!) hard way

- Once the tribes merged - and assisted if not lead by the eventual winner Natalie - Russell participated in making sure a player from Galu was voted out immediately after the merge as opposed to someone from his tribe. This is important, because the typical pattern of the show is that whichever tribe enters the merge with more players simply "picks off" the inferior tribe one-by-one, making some of those middle shows rather predictable

- This began a string of somewhat shocking votes, as the former Galu members were voted off one-by-one while the former Foa-Foa's continued to remain. This pattern was assisted by Russell's using one of the hidden Immunity Idols he had foraged at a critical juncture. A member of Foa-Foa was only voted off once there were two former Galu's left - one a traitor who had assisted Foa-Foa and one who was proving too strong at individual immunity to get rid of

- Once the "final three" players were left, all original Foa-Foa allies, Russell continued his psychological strategy by crowing to the other two that he was a "lock" to win as he happily listed off the names of the final voters who would choose him as the winner

- During the final presentations to the jury, it became clear to Russell that the members of the jury were very much against him, and his confidence and arrogance in victory were shaken for the first time

- In the "Reunion Special" Natalie was picked as the winner. Russell was a very sore loser, criticizing her and other players, insisting that he should be considered the winner, and even offered Natalie $100,000 if she would just let Jeff proclaim Russell as the "Sole Survivor"

- Russell was later announced as winning a vote for fan's pick as the best player, which he used to further support the case that he "should have" won

- It appeared that the audience was emphatically behind Russell and felt that he "should have" won; however, even with additional probing, the jury of his fellow players was insistent that he should not have won, and many of them clearly would not have supported him even if they had different voting choices at the end

So there are a lot of messages here. The most forward and obvious is that, no matter how smart or good you are, if you don't treat people within some boundaries of civility you will not be successful in a certain way. There can be no argument that Russell was the most influential player. He had an impact on the game like no other player before him. But he treated people terribly with his lying and ego and self-assurance. This resulted in the jury filling up with people who wanted to see ANYONE win but him. His strategic analysis and play were almost pitch-perfect, but in this one way he badly misread the landscape. Indeed, some of the people who were adamantly against him were the same people he jeeringly read off as being "guaranteed" to vote for him in the end. Oooops!

Fascinating, then, was the juxtaposition of those not in the game with the votes of those who were. Apparently, the public thinks Russell "should have" won. Clearly he was the most influential player. But the entire twist with this particular game is you need to get to the end in such a way that enables you to curry the votes of the players you have likely had a hand in eliminating. Here Russell's ego and over-confidence got the best of him, because he assumed he could fool, manipulate and use those people once again to bend to his will. The game is all about context and people. As a social experiment, though, to see the people actually affected by Russell (perhaps correctly) vote against him in stark contrast to the audience that thought he should win highlighted real issues between how we react to the treatment of "others" as opposed to ourselves. For the many people who were entertained by and in admiration of Russell's incredible success at the game, it seemed only fair that he was rewarded as opposed to the milquetoast Natalie. But that is not the reality of the game; the whole and explicit point of the game is earning the votes of your other competitors. Nothing more. In that final analysis Russell's character flaws did his capacity for the game a real injustice.

However I saw Russell's losing in a jury vote coming a few episodes before the finale. It was hardly a surprise. Not that I knew who would win, because I didn't. But in looking at the people on the jury and how they perceived Russell I began to realize it would be almost impossible for him to win. What was really surprising and interesting about the finale was how weak Russell looked, in every way.

During the game, Russell was a force of nature. He was powerfully in every way. Physically, his fire hydrant-like stature and physique lent itself to bearlike strength; this was ably put to work thanks to his comfort with getting dirty and being uncomfortable. These are essential traits for a good player of Survivor and particularly came to bear in his finding all of the hidden Immunity Idols without any clues. His personality and essence were also powerful as he seemed to, again and again, will the other players to do what he wanted them to. This was clearly someone who was a force to be reckoned with, not the person in an Armageddon scenario who you wanted to be foraging on your block for food and supplies. You'd need a gun to slow this guy down.

Yet on the finale show it was a very different story. Like many of the players do on this nationally televised live show, Russell looked very made up. That typically makes the players look a little off and as if they are trying too hard, but in Russell's case he looked like a homeless person in a freshly-pressed tuxedo: uncomfortable and out-of-sorts. Then were his facial expressions and body language. Even before the votes were counted he looked very uncomfortable and agitated. Whereas Natalie and the other finalist, Mick, looked a little star-struck and just really happy to be there Russell looked incredibly uncomfortable. After the vote was announced and they begin interviewing the players, his sour grapes criticisms and claims of his being the "rightful" winner became old, fast. Then, perhaps most improbably, we got to see Russell literally beg for victory. He wanted to title. He wanted to be the "Sole Survivor". He offered Natalie a lot of money for it. He implored Jeff and the audience and the other players to somehow, in a formal way, anoint him as the leader and best. And in doing this you saw the depths of his insecurity, a literally pathetic and powerless thrashing to try and finally grasp this thing which he had placed so much of his sense of self upon. It was sad and absolutely pathetic to see. Whatever strength real or perceived we had all seen in Russell during his 39 day demolition of Survivor: Samoa, it was lost in this ridiculous meltdown.

On the heels of the spectacle last night I got interested enough in Russell to do some web searching on him today. What I found really supported the thesis that played out openly on screen: photos of an insecure man who named his company after himself and splayed his last name on everything he could, from hats and shirts to some Photoshop of a picture of a football stadium, where his last name replaced the real name for the stadium. It revealed a sadly pathetic thrashing for some degree of recognition that he could not muster strength enough to provide from the inside.

I'm not sure what was most poignant to me: being reminded of how strong people can be and how hard they will fight to overcome their internally-imposed perceptions of inadequacy, or that you need to treat people well in order to get what you want even if you think they are simply trash. Either way, Russell Hantz is a reminder of the power and fury insecurity-fueled ambition can provide, and how truly unstable the foundation underneath will ostensibly prove to be.

"Dad would have liked this."

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 23:00:37 CST

Watching a new show, "Pawn Stars", for the first time tonight, I found myself chuckling and saying, "Dad would have liked this." I wish we had a longer adult relationship, where making that observation would lead me to pick up the phone and tell him about it, as opposed to being left to wince at the fact he no longer exists.

Nomadic fatigue

Tue, 24 Nov 2009 21:25:10 CST

I consider myself a homebody, so when Daniel pointed out that I've been living the life of a nomad - for a really long time now - it had an impact. Going back to 1999 I've lived in...10 different places. 10 years, 10 homes. That's just silly. Some moves were for love, some moves were for money and some moves were for convenience. As I sit in yet another new domicile - sadly, for money - here's hoping my next move actually involves planting some roots.

P.S. - About the end of the affair...

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 14:36:33 CST

I've gotten a bunch of direct messages over the last 24 hours. To be clear, I may have left California but Involution Studios is still very much in business. I'm in Boston with Juhan, our great business partner and creative guru out here, and other key team members. We've got a smaller team with people still in California. We're beaten and battered but we still have the chops to do the great work our reputation is built upon. So don't write our professional post-mortem; the next chapter could be better than the last.

The End of the Affair

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 00:01:57 CST

About two weeks ago I ended a 5+ year affair with the San Francisco Bay Area.

I will never forget the first time I flew out there, in the spring of 2004 for my first planning meetings to create what was to become Involution Studios. The plane was landing at night and, as I looked out the window at the water below, I thought I was looking at the Pacific Ocean. It was actually the San Francisco Bay. It was the first of many things I was to learn in the years ahead.

More than anything, I learned that I love California. Madly, passionately, deeply. Unlike most young-ish people in my industry who despise Silicon Valley and strive to live in the City (and despite there being three large cities in close proximity, the City always means San Francisco) I adore the valley. It is warm and sunny during the day and delightfully cool at night. There are many more brown people than white people, and something about being a racial and ethnic minority really wore well on me. People are smart there! People are geeks there! Finally, I was surrounded by people who I thought were "like" me. Most of the major technology companies in the world were in this amazingly compact little radius, so driving from one place to another was like a trip through the software A-list. The bay and ocean are close; mountains, hills and forests are as well. There is low humidity. You can find really good ethnic food all over the place. The airports are large with direct flights to every corner of the world. The politics are liberal and people are open. The valley has none of the icky grittiness of the city. If I were independently wealthy yet still had to work I would certainly buy a nice, large home in Woodside, or Los Gatos.

But California is not perfect; if it were, the affair would continue. The deal breaker is that it's prohibitively expensive. Prohibitively. I was brought up in a large suburban home and I grew up accustomed to the conveniences and lifestyle related to a lot of rooms, bedrooms and bathrooms with a nice yard and plenty of living space. Unless you're a millionaire, you won't find that in a sane commuting distance in the San Francisco Bay Area. Right when I first moved to California in the summer of 2005, I was nowhere near able to afford a home. When I left in the fall of 2008, with my company very successful, I was still nowhere near able to afford a home. When I left I knew I probably wouldn't be back. The other blemish is that it is incredibly crowded. The Eastern Seaboard has got nuthin' on the San Francisco Bay Area. It's people on top of people on top of people. But all of the pros more than outweighed that particular con.

The affair was able to continue because, despite my exodus, my company continued forward. The plan was always to administer a multi-location entity, of which California was the headquarters. We even had a small corporate apartment to enable the travel of myself and other mobile employees. California thus became a dalliance as opposed to a spouse.

Ah, the best laid plans. Little more than a year later, the calamity of the 2009 economy led to the demolition of most of our company and my California business partner's heading for higher ground while there was still higher ground to head for. I attempted to zig back to California and revive the location when he left but the damage from a year of ruin was too severe. The end came with a whimper not a bang, as one employee too many left and the relationship between the foundation and potential of the studio combined with the questionable revenue potential signaled a sensible and obvious end. It was little more than two weeks from deciding to kill it and flying out of California for the last time, at least as a nominal resident. Those were a weird, harried, sad two weeks. At the end of it, the affair was over.

California will always hold sway over my heart. I liked to say I felt like a native Californian; it just fit me so well. However, I no longer have the ambition to make the kind of money that living there in the sort of lifestyle I consider comfortable would really require. I might get lucky, something might change, but more likely I won't be living in the warm embrace of California again. Losing her was difficult, and of course is wrapped up in so much more: the dismantling of my company, a brutal professional year, dramatic overall life change. Strangely, 2009 was probably the best year ever in my personal life. It's ironic and, perhaps, cruel how that works. On balance I'm not complaining, just trying to acclimate to a drastically different life.

Adieu, California. I will always miss you.

When you demand satisfaction, escalate

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 11:00:38 CST

Due to my weird living-out-of-a-suitcase-while-living-away-from-home-85%-of-the-time-the-last-few-months existence, small things that I used to be very thorough about are slipping through the cracks. The latest is the cellphone bill that I get for the phone I provide for my mom. She uses that phone less than 30 minutes a month yet I pay over $40 for the service. I think its money well spent as these things go - her having the phone is important - but it is certainly free and easy money for the provider, AT&T. Thus when they hit me with a $36.60 fee for missing the payment I decided to call and request a reversal.

To make a long story short, the operator said "no" again and again, using very odd and indirect verbiage. I explained I would start giving someone else $40 a month for virtually no service if she didn't fix it. She again talked around the issue, saying no without saying no. We went around like this for a few times more before I finally forced a boil down and got us to a conclusion:

Me: "We're going to discuss this in English. Either you waive the so-called 'valid fee' and you keep my business, or I'm going to take my business and send a $40-something check for no service to a different provider every month."

Her: "I'm sorry sir, that is a valid fee."

Me: "Are you telling me that you will not reverse it?"

Her: "Its a valid fee."

Me: "Do you understand I'm going to take my business to another provider?"

Her: "Its a valid fee."

Me: "Are you going to waive it or not?"

Her: "It is not possible to waive that valid fee."

Me: "Let me speak to your supervisor."

After being on hold for three minutes I explained the situation to her supervisor in about 20 seconds. Her immediate response? "Of course we will waive that fee. Please hold while I take care of that for you."

Always, always, always escalate when you're dealing with customer service insanity. Anything else is just, well, insane! And large faceless corporations like AT&T out there, for goodness sakes empower your front line service people to make those logical decisions on their own. Despite the fee being waived, in total, I have an even worse opinion of AT&T after the call than I did before it. Hire competent people, or empower the people you have. Pick one, but don't subject me to the vagaries of poor service and intentionally difficult operators.

Moby at the Boston House of Blues

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 16:03:31 CST

My single favourite thing in the world to do is see bands that I really enjoy, live. If I was set to be executed, or euthanized, or otherwise destroyed, I would choose to spend my last day on Earth at a concert. Probably even a Moby concert (I've seen him...six times at this point). Suffice it to say that going last night with my son Brandon to see Moby at the Boston House of Blues was a memorable and amazing experience.

Perhaps the thing that makes Moby so special to me is that he is all about feeling really alive and "emotionally erect" (to quote Steve Martin) in a gentle and thoughtful way. Even as he belts out harder and faster songs, it is built on a very humanistic and loving base. It is really quite special. There is a beauty in so much of what Moby does, and its reflected in so many ways: the fact that, despite being one of the best musicians of his generation he gives MORE solo time to the other people performing with him than to himself; the seamless way he shifts from vocals, to guitar, to bongo drums, to keyboards; the way that he encourages the audience to get involved and excited while imploring us to "FEEL" it. Great stuff.

The biggest issue I had with this show was there was Too. Much. Play. Of course, Play is his Grammy-winning album that put Moby on the map for most people. And to be sure, the many, many, many things they did from Play were well executed. The female blues vocalist, in particular, was strong and brought tears to my eyes twice with her renditions of all the blues songs that they covered from the album. But in playing so much from Play so much more was missed. Only one song from Hotel (Raining Again)? Only two songs from his best album, Everything is Wrong (Feeling so Real, When Its Cold I'd Like To Die)? I get why he did so much from Play: its what the mainstream fans know, as most of his other albums have been ignored. But, gosh, what I wouldn't give to hear, say, Everytime You Touch Me or Sunday.

But let me not lose the plot with that sober complaint. It was a great show. And the stuff from Play was amazingly well-executed. Besides, there were great surprises! I've never heard him play When Its Cold I'd Like To Die live. That was chilling and amazing. The blues stuff from Play was pretty darn out-of-control-good. He played an unreleased song that he was "trying out" to see if he should release it (title not given) and it was rockingly good. Not as danceable and strong as Extreme Ways but similar, and really slick. There were a couple of songs he played I did not recognize, I presume from his last album. But it was all good. He was even playing a few partial covers in a playful and interactive way with the audience, and doing some freestyling with his band as well. In closing with Feeling So Real, his traditional send-off, he filled us with life and sent us all home happy. I was literally jumping up and down by the end of it, completely ignoring my exhaustion from dancing all night.

Perhaps best of all, Brandon and I were second row floor, dead-ass center. The whole show, Moby was 10 feet away from us. It was pretty unbelievable. I took a bunch of pictures with my iPhone camera which are sadly not great, but will post them on Flickr to really communicate how CLOSE we were. I once sat next to Moby in his NY restaurant Teany so I have technically been within three feet of him before. But at Teany I was letting him enjoy the privacy of his lunch date (I know how tiring it can be when I'm in the midst of private time and people who've seen me speak interrupt just because they are "fans" in a certain way and thus always let celebrities be); this time he was performing in such a powerful way right in front of me. When he played Bodyrock the bass from the speakers five feet away literally shook our bones, as Brand and I exchanged surprised and delighted looks. Fantastic!

It was also special being there with Brandon. He and I saw Moby DJ last summer in California but this was our first time seeing him performing his music, live. It was a great time and terrific shared experience. I hope my children choose to bring me along to fun things now and again when they are adults, not out of obligation but just because they like to spend the time with me!

I have tickets to see him again in San Francisco in October. I'm going to go early again. I'm going to get front or first couple rows dead center again. This time I'm going to borrow a really good point-and-shoot camera and get some amazing images of it. I know what to expect now. I'm also going to listen to Play a lot to clean up the 15% or so of lyrics I was butchering while serially singing along.

At the end of last night I was drenched with sweat, sore in my legs, back and arms, unthinkably tired, but happy and fulfilled in a way no other physical activity can provide. What an amazing, amazing, amazing time!

Wishing for better "news" and "reporting"

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 19:12:09 CST

Today I stumbled upon an exceptional three-part series analyzing the safety of trendy new sweeteners Truvia and PureVia. Both are derived from "natural ingredients" and I was thus intrigued by their safety or risks, which led me to these articles. In reading all three of them in breathless succession I was struck by how they reflect the very best things about journalism, to me: objective, thorough, thoughtful, focused on the essentials of the matter at hand. It was precisely what I was looking for, although I was expecting infinitely less. Even more, it optimized the web as a medium with copious links out to primary sources and a seemingly never-ending string of juicy additional readings and research, if I so choose. It gets my strongest recommendation. Here is the article.

My excitement over reading this series really underscored what a wasteland I consider news and reporting to be. I have largely tuned out of media news as a reliable source for information. The reason? I don't trust it. Headlines intended to shock and thus increase readership. Angles that are clearly motivated by political or moral agendas. A tacit knowledge that what I am reading is far from "truth" in any understandable sense and rather is a careful positioning the motivations for and assumptions behind which I do not understand nor necessarily am motivated to untangle. The flip side is, the "serious" journalism that does go deeper and with rigour is often snooze city. It moves too slow, it is too hard to get the essential nuggets out. It shouldn't be; it doesn't have to be.

The result is that, even as my brain is perpetually churning on issues of the world and the betterment of humanity, I am somewhat "checked out" from news. Its simply a morass. It is very, very rare that I discover something like Nutrition Wonderland (where these articles came from), where I discover something that I actually trust. That gives me answers and insight that make me smarter, better informed, and shed light not just on the primary topic but also teach me about the operating dynamics surrounding it.

I recently saw the movie Good Luck and Good Night" about Edward R. Murrow. The idea of _that_ kind of news program being on network news seems impossible now, and indeed may have seemed impossible even 40 years ago. But I have to think our future - one where we are informed and moving towards some sort of truly healthy and fulfilled reality - will require this sort of rigour and honesty. Perhaps the idea of people sitting around and simply watching such a program is now extinct, but it should be trivial and even exciting to achieve it in a different medium; these articles that have me so excited certainly did!

It even made me wonder: should the role of government simply be one of education rather than regulating us? That is, should the government simply give us the best and most complete information and then get out of our way, albeit with consequences if we destroy or harm people or property? If you attempt to achieve the reductio ad absurdum as a logic problem, I think that is where it concludes: that the most balanced role of government is to give the populace the best possible information and context and then allow them to make their own decisions. That is a much larger exposition than this short post, however.

But the smaller and more simple question is: will the future of news evolve to resemble Nutrition Wonderland once too many people tune out from the rabble? Will this kind of thoughtful reporting enjoy a return of prominence as the populace and market demands better journalism? Obviously I hope so. And this type of journalism in this particular medium - dynamic, interactive, web-enabled - certainly takes the bet principles and practices of eras past and integrates them into the vibrant technology of today and the future. Really, read the articles. You may not like them as much as I do, but they do I think a masterful job of presenting expert research and insight into an everyman format with incredible depth and density for those who choose to pursue it. Just wonderful!

Stratford 2009

Sat, 12 Sep 2009 23:11:04 CST

Sigrid and I went to Stratford last weekend with my mom and aunt Ruth Ann. As usual it was a lovely weekend with comfortable amenities, good food and excellent theatre. I am going to begin reviewing and rating the different plays and restaurants each year for posterity, so there is some solid record to compare year-over-year:

THE PLAYS
Julius Caesar (Friday night, Avon Theater)
Ever since I first saw this play at Stratford in 1990 with Brian Bedford as Brutus, Colm Feore as Cassius, Scott Wentworth as Mark Antony and Nicholas Pennell as Julius Caesar, this has been my very favourite Shakespeare play. The magic of that night is what made me fall in love with Stratford and made Julius Caesar a "must-see" play. Sadly, if my first experience with Julius Caesar had been this 2009 rendition, I would say that Julius Caesar is one of my least favourite Shakespearean plays. This was not a good performance.

Julius Caesar suffered from mediocre acting and poor direction. With regard to the acting, the play really needs to be carried by Brutus, Cassius and Mark Antony. In this rendition, all three actors were inadequate. Ben Carlson as Brutus was unsympathetic, managing to come across as weak and mealy as opposed to honourable. Tom Rooney as Cassius was inconsistent. Early in the play his lack of presence and strength made him come across more like a devious librarian than a real puppetmaster. Later, after the intermission, his overly strenuous carping at Brutus had no connection with his performance in the early acts, nor did it befit the role of Cassius. It was simply odd, and the weakest of the three leads. Jonathan Goad as Mark Antony was adequate and nothing more. He was generally likable and entirely unmemorable. It would have taken a a pretty special effort from Goad to make up for the faults of the two leads, and this milquetoast performance certainly didn't do it.

Leaving the play I commented that any Julius Caesar in which Caska was the best performance certainly couldn't be good. And indeed, Michael Spencer-Davis' performance was one of only two that I enjoyed. The other was Geriant Wyn Davies as Julius Caesar. Despite the eponymous nature of the play, the role of Julius Caesar is minor. Yet Davies' caliber stood out. With Brian Bedford heading towards retirement, Davies is my favourite Stratford regular at this point. His one-man play scheduled for 2010 is on my "must-see" list.

The supporting performances were otherwise poor. Notably bad were Cara Ricketts as a shrill and unintelligible Portia, Dion Johnstone as a ham-fisted Octavius Caesar, and Yanna McIntosh as a weak Calphurnia.

The biggest weakness with this performance, however, was the direction of James MacDonald. While my dislike of his post-modern staging may be more personal preference than artistic failing, the inconsistent and disjointed nature of it reflected poor execution regardless of context. I knew the play had jumped the shark when the generals were working off 1930's era steel tables, sitting on 1990's era outdoor lounge chairs, surrounded by futuristic stormtroopers. The one real directing achievement he had was his handling of the plebians during Brutus and Mark Antony's dueling orations. Stationed throughout the audience and very loud and engaged, this was the best staging of that scene I've seen. Unfortunately, the execution was so clumsy that the actors were yelling and chortling so that we could not even hear Brutus say "Friends Romans, Lovers", nor could we hear Mark Antony say "Friends, Romans, Countrymen"! Poor timing and execution to an otherwise inspired and effective staging. Regardless, that one bit of brilliance was not enough to save it for me, and Macdonald will be a director I avoid in the future unless the cast is a powerhouse.

What I love about Julius Caesar as it is written is the complexity of Brutus. He is an incredible protagonist, wrapped in the cloak of antagonist. Considering Brutus' plight, we begin to empathize with the insurgent, the terrorist, the revolutionary who chooses to turn to violent and immoral acts in order to achieve what they believe to be honourable and appropriate ends. This is further complicated by Mark Antony who is so clearly written to wear the white hat; if both are right, who is wrong? That bit of complexity is the essence of great tragedy: it is not a struggle between right and wrong but a struggle between right and right!

Of course, the true antagonist is Cassius, the manipulator who turns Brutus' good nature and spirit of service into vile murder. Motivated by petty feelings like jealousy and ambition, he needs to be the clear counterpoint to Brutus. The triangle between these three is where the magic lies. In this performance, none of the three held up their end and we were left to identify with Mark Antony for melodramatic reasons and not feel very strongly about either Brutus or Cassius beyond the limited context of their murderous act. That is a pretty serious failure.

Rating: 2.5 stars out of 5

The Importance of Being Earnest (Saturday afternoon, Avon Theater)
I am an unapologetic fanboy of Brian Bedford. He is my favourite actor in the world and has unquestionably given me greater pleasure than any person in my life who I haven't actually met. Most of my favourite plays at Stratford over the years starred Brian, and I positively gush every time I see him.

With that disclaimer fully made, this was a lovely production. The acting was uniformly very good, the direction was traditional but precise, the costuming was lovely, and my only major gripe is with the set. While nice, the seams were clearly visible in a number of ways, ranging from the paper mache-like vase in the corner of the first act, to the overly-slanted side walls trying to give depth and perspective, to the cheaper materials used in fabrication. I must assume these are 2009 recession cutbacks, but it definitely showed. When I think back to the spectacular Noel Coward plays starring and/or directed by Bedford from earlier this decade, the sets were so pristine and precise. If only by comparison, the set was not up to Stratford's lofty standards. The audience applauded at each curtain, but that was more in deference to Brian being in his last years and getting easy applause at every turn.

While the acting was truly uniformly good, from the leads to the smallest roles, I want to talk a little about some of the actors. Brian Bedford, as always, was radiant. Playing Lady Bracknell he is set up to be the scene stealer, and he certainly succeeded. By their very nature Oscar Wilde plays are a bit of cotton candy: very entertaining but not terribly deep. Thus while Brian's performance was excellent it was not among my favourite of his many wonderful roles at the festival.

Ben Carlson returned after his disappointing Brutus and was solid here as John Worthing. The "straight man" of the two male leads, he played it just fine. Stratford is positioning Ben Carlson to be their great new leading man and I have been very disappointed with him, first as Hamlet in 2008 and now Brutus this year. This performance will at least let me give him another chance, but John Worthing is hardly a difficult role. For me, Ben Carlson has something more still to prove if I keep giving him a chance.

Sara Topham has been my favourite younger female actor for some years and she did nothing to change that with her bright rendition of Gwendolen Fairfax. Mike Shara made his debut this year, including as Algernon Moncrieff here. I thought he was rather good although Sigrid was not impressed. I will be interested to see how he does in roles other than being a dandy, for which he seemed suited. He was also in Cyrano this year, which we regrettably did not see.

A well-executed feel-good. I laughed a lot, and I took real delight in enjoying one of what is likely the last performances of Brian Bedford. Let us hope there is a lot more of him left, contrary to his advancing age and reduced workload in recent years.

Rating: 4.5 stars out of 5

Macbeth (Saturday night, Festival Theater)
This was the most difficult, intellectually engaging, and contentious play we saw this trip. My group decidedly disliked it. I probably liked it more than the rest, but for me it was still a mediocre play. More than the other plays on this trip, the successes and failures came down to the direction.

Des McAnuff is the Artistic Director at Stratford. He is a celebrity director, a finalist for not one but two Best Director Tony Awards this year on Broadway and a past winner of the award. He is experienced, talented and celebrated. At least in this performance, I felt that gravitas with much too heavy of a hand. McAnuff's direction frequently overshadowed the acting and action on stage. When he hit the right notes, it was thought-provoking and special. When he hit the wrong notes - which was more frequent - it ranged from being muddled to acutely uncomfortable.

Beginning with McAnuff's success, I really appreciated his setting Macbeth in mid-20th century Africa. The essential conflict at the center of Macbeth - ambition leading to assassination that opens an odyssey of battles and wars involving struggles for power that plague inter-connected families and nations with death, destruction and tragedy at its center. I tend to prefer staging and costuming that reflect the period Shakespeare was writing about but McAnuff really surprised and delighted me with his choice here. It made sense. It worked. It enhanced the narrative.

Where McAnuff missed the plot was in his general execution. As my father used to say it was "too Hollywood", as if McAnuff was trying to live up to his reputation. He went over-the-top in various ways that significantly detracted from the experience:

- On at least four occasions, two of which were during pitch-black scenes where the audience is waiting for the lights to come up, McAnuff represented gunshots or artillery fire in an extremely loud and, not just surprising but shocking, way. It was uncomfortable. It made me anxious in my seat. By the third time I started looking around at the rest of the audience to see if it was just me; it wasn't. People were cringing, holding their ears, stiffly bracing themselves for what might come next. Perhaps this was his intent - to help the audience better feel that carnage of the setting - but it was wholly unnecessary. Stratford is a place where people come on their vacation, many of them elderly, to enjoy the theater. Making the audience physically uncomfortable is a categorical failure. Perhaps in an edgy off-Broadway production, its alright. Perhaps in something billed as an extreme take on Macbeth, foreshadowing the violence, it would work. But in this context it was simply awful. Unfortunately, the loud guns and artillery were only the beginning of his violating our personal space.

- On at least three occasions lights were shined directly and intentionally into the eyes of the audience. Once, actors were carrying bright flashlights and shining them intentionally at the audience. Once, a square bank of lights that was over the stage was lowered and kept at a low level where it hurt our eyes, and then raised. It blinded the audience and forced us to protect ourselves. Once a jeep was ridiculously driven onto the stage, with its bright headlights shining again into our eyes. Gratuitous. Unnecessary. Spoiling what could have been a special and inspired performance.

- The depiction of killing on and off the stage was intentionally violent and unpleasant, far beyond anything I've seen at Stratford in 20 years of patronage. The teenage actor playing Macduff's son was kept on stage long past the way the play was written explicitly for the purpose of showing his slaughter to the audience. The horror of the moment was exacerbated by the sound of Macduff's infant child crying offstage, and we then watch the actors depart and hear sounds the audibly allow us to experience the death of that baby. And the coup de grace was the hideous decapitation of Macbeth with a shovel. Once again, people were cringing, wincing, turning their head away. Why?

For all of these things, I believe the "why" is that McAnuff wanted to make us uncomfortable, to bring the horrors of the play and the plight of the modern culture he was attempting the channel directly and viscerally home. Intellectually, I think that outcome is a reasonable one. Macbeth is a tragedy, and if you come to Macbeth you need to understand you aren't going to leave the theater laughing and happy. Yet l'art pour l'art is not the raison d'etre of Stratford. Stratford is a non-profit organization that provides theater to an increasingly aging patronage in a context of calm, romantic vacation. These excesses were wholly ignorant of McAnuff's audience and, in their extremity, obscured the point he was presumably trying to make. With some nuance and discretion McAnuff could have pursued a similar strategy but achieved his ends much more successfully. I suspect his ego and feeling the need to keep pace with his Broadway celebrity contributed to this lack of judgement. It is unfortunate, because this could have been a special play. The kernel of an amazing idea is there and clearly visible. Instead, as we noted walking out, it was full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

As for the acting, it was generally good. Colm Feore as Macbeth was very good but not excellent. I've seen Fiore at Stratford since 1990, and he is certainly one of the best actors I've seen during that time. However while typically very good is rarely truly great. Thus he was an asset to this performance but not a true powerhouse. Yanna McIntosh as Lady Macbeth was inconsistent but somewhat acquitted herself for her poor performance in Julius Caesar. What made her notable for me was during her famous soliloquy - "out damn spot" - she had a moment when her attendants were commenting and she was only acting physically without words where the depth of her acting and intensity sent a chill down my spine. That doesn't happen often for me, and I consider it the mark of truly great acting to move me in that particular way. Unfortunately it was only a moment, and she otherwise ranged from mediocre to good. Geriant Wyn Davies showed up again in a brief supporting role as Duncan, and again his caliber showed despite his limited stage time. He's special.

Circling back to the direction, Des McAnuff did a variety of really interesting things, many of which were forgotten due to my preoccupation with his unsettling and aggressive tactics. The one I'm remembering now is the use of the Ghost of Banquo, bringing actor Timothy D. Stickney subtly up from below the stage to take his seat at the table as a ghost, then taking him down again to underscore the depth of Fiore's madness, then bringing him back up as appropriate. It was super-slick and really worked beautifully. He was surrounded at a crowded banquet table, and I'll bet it took at least some of the audience a while before they caught on the the oh-so-subtle-and-smooth raising-and-lowering of Stickney from below the closed floor to being a participant at the dinner. Really well done.

This could have been a truly memorable Macbeth, second only to Brian Bedford's amazing turn back in 1990. Unfortunately the aggressive direction, with McAnuff choosing to make his audience anxious, uncomfortable and unsettled while trying to enjoy the play really crippled the overall quality of the performance. This would have been a four or even four-and-a-half star performance for me, but instead it falls into the ranks of one of the less enjoyable plays I've seen here in some time.

Rating: 3 stars out of 5

THE RESTAURANTS
Bijou (Thursday night)
Bijou has become my favourite restaurant in Stratford. Similar to my previous favourite Rundles, Bijou is somewhat less expensive and significantly less pretentious. I like the pretense of Rundles once in a while, for a special one-on-one date, perhaps. But for the way we dine - with our entire group - it just seems bloated and unnecessary. Thus Bijou gives much the best of Rundles without the excess. It is a "must go" every year.

This year my meal included a duet of duck - picking both the duck appetizer and entree, and for dessert a plate of artisinal cheeses and a glass of late-harvest Riesling.

Both of the duck portions were delicious. I adore duck; it may be my favourite animal meat. The dishes were flavourful and rich, just how I like it. Neither was memorable, but both very good. Unfortunately the cheeses were pedestrian: certainly not bad, but I wouldn't order them again. I found myself greedily eyeing the desserts of my comrades! The Riesling was not great, either.

Rating: 4 stars out of 5

Down the Street (Friday night)
We were introduced to this restaurant last year by At Eleven proprietor Jeff, when we were looking for a good steak restaurant for my uncle Morty. Jeff said Down the Street was the best Stratford had to offer and was the primary townie hangout, to boot. We enjoyed it enough last year to return again this year.

My meal included an appetizer of Caprese salad, the ribeye steak with sauteed mushrooms and garlic smashed potatoes as an entree, and being rather full I skipped dessert.

I'm not crazy about Caprese salads, but the tomato appetizers the ladies had the night before looked delicious, and I wanted some vegetables and lighter fare before the steak, which was fine but not great. I drank a glass of pinot before dinner and cabernet sauvignon with the beef. Both glasses were just fine.

This was a good meal, but my least favourite of the trip.

Rating: 3 stars of of 5

Pazzo/upstairs (Saturday night)
I first discovered Pazzo when having lunch at their downstairs informal restaurant with a pick-your-own-toppings pizza earlier this decade. It has become a staple on our Stratford trip and is very delicious and consistent. The upstairs is the more formal restaurant with a full dinner menu, and where we frequent.

My meal this year included half each of an appetizer of roasted corn soup with corriander and heirloom tomatoes and the beet carpaccio with goat cheese fritter, pickled eggplant and arugula (Sigrid and I shared), a flavourful ravioli in a delightful butter-based sauce as an entree, and for dessert I chose a white chocolate semifreddo. The ravioli was extraordinary while the appetizers were disappointing. The soup was good but the carpaccio was bland. My dessert was also just fair. Affordable glasses of barolo were quite lovely and a good, affordable example of the varietal. All-in-all a good but not special.

Rating: 4 stars out of 5

Finally, this year was the last for the finest bed and breakfast I've had the delight of patronizing: At Eleven. Proprietor Jeffrey Schmidt, who is also a successful management consultant, has decided to close his doors and reclaim the beautiful house at 11 Elizabeth Street. At Eleven has become such an important and enjoyable part of the Stratford experience that I'm compelled to write about it as something of a love letter bidding fond farewell:

I first went to At Eleven in 2004. At the time the owner was Lucy Russell, a warm, friendly and lovely person. The home and decor were beautiful; the breakfasts were divine; the experience was exceptional. I was immediately infatuated.

Between the 2005 and 2006 season I received a letter indicating that Lucy had sold At Eleven to Jeffrey Schmidt. Lucy was giving him a good recommendation, and Jeff included some warm and enthusiastic words. Lucy was so dear that this change was a bit nerve-racking, but we decided to go there anyway and give Jeff a try.

Things were very different with Jeff, which at first was uncomfortable. Jeff very much changed the tone and tenor of At Eleven. The home was already well-designed and immaculately clean under Lucy, but Jeff improved it. He also made it a much more professional operation, punctuated by very high-class and branded At Eleven accoutrements visible through the entire home and communication package as well. However this also manifested in very precise and sometimes awkward rules around the house, including a handful of rooms and areas being closed off from public use, in direct contrast to Lucy's open approach. In addition, whereas Lucy was almost effusive in making you feel at home and welcome, Jeff was very careful to always keep the boundary up that reminded you this was his home and you were just visitors. Still, despite the formal distance, Jeff was intent on trying to please. This is best encapsulated by the breakfasts he served each morning.

I can unequivocally say that the breakfasts At Eleven are the finest I've had in my entire life. Jeff spared no expense or luxury in providing an incredible spread. Every morning, breakfast began with a first course that I would term a fruit-and-pastry course. For the fruit side, Jeff has a lovely smoothie recipe of fresh ingredients on some mornings. My favourite though were his fresh fruit cups with a variety - up to seven or more - different fruits included, all impossibly fresh and finely cut with the skill of a true artisan. The one we had this year on Saturday morning I consider impossibly good. Fruit simply cannot get better. And with just a bit of yogurt, drizzle of granola and surprising inclusion of a dried fruit that offered an amazing contrast, this was the best presentation of fruit I've ever had. On the pastry side, the scones are king. I never liked scones before, finding them dry and often bland. Jeff's scones were never dry or bland, they were butter-bombs of yumminess. Mixed with a different fruit each time, these are a memorable and amazing way to start the day. His muffins were quite good as well, but the scones were paramount.

Ah, but that is just the "appetizer," those two parts. There was always also a full, hot breakfast. I never liked eggs Benedict before. Thanks to Jeff's eggs Benedict, I am always eager to eat it. Of course, few do it so well as Jeff. My favourite part of Jeff's hot breakfast is something he purchased, but I'm sure at a premium: very fresh pork link sausages. My goodness. Talk about delicious! If the only meat I was able to eat for the rest of my life were those little pork sausage links, I would consider myself lucky. Served with pancakes, or blueberry waffles, or some other yummy center of the meal, it was consistently heaven. So big were these breakfasts that we wouldn't even eat lunch, going right from breakfast to dinner, with perhaps a small snack in between.

Jeff really cared. He put time and love into his cooking, and how we felt about it mattered. He delighted in the praise and listened attentively to the (few) criticisms. The same attention and care he put into breakfast, so did he put into the entire establishment.

The closing of At Eleven matters in some significant way, similar to when the great older actors retire and perform for the final time. I felt real and profound sadness in leaving for the last time, and it will remain a cherished memory and a near-impossible standard for future B&B's here and elsewhere to live up to. I wish Jeff all the best in his post-B&B life, and thank him for all of the attention and comfort he offered us.

On balance, Stratford 2009 was garden variety. There was one excellent play and two - for Stratford - poor plays. The meals were good, and I have no complaints, but not great. Perhaps most notable is this being the last year of At Eleven which for me stands as the pinnacle of a bed and breakfast experience. "Garden variety" at Stratford is really something delightful, and I often feel we are spoiled by the high quality of everything at and around the festival. I enjoyed myself immensely, and am already looking forward to 2010!

Niagara Falls

Wed, 02 Sep 2009 21:42:13 CST

Sigrid and I are spending the night in Niagara Falls en route to Stratford for the annual pilgrimage. This is my first time here, and I must say it is a great bargain. The "best" hotel room I could find on the Canadian (better Falls view) side is $200 a night, and for that privilege I am able to get a spectacular view of both the Canadian and American falls from my bed on the 29th floor, while typing this blog entry. Pretty. Frakking. Spectacular.

Overall Niagara Falls isn't "my" kind of vacation: it reminds me of Orlando with countless Applebee's-type restaurants and densely filled with tourist attractions geared toward a less sophisticated traveler. But the falls themselves are truly spectacular and worth seeing. We will end up being here a total of about 18 hours and, while perhaps one more day would have been nice, this will be enough to get the best parts.

The highlight was standing by the guardrail at the edge of the falls. The water going over the rocks was not 20 feet away (!) and when the wind changed we were all getting sprayed by the giant clouds of water pounding up from the falls far below. Really spectacular, and something worth doing at least once for everyone! Strong recommendation.

A day to remember

Mon, 31 Aug 2009 13:47:43 CST

This morning Sigrid and I learned that, in roughly five months and assuming nothing unusual happens, we will be welcoming a new daughter into the world! Seeing the ultrasound pictures and getting the information from the technician, I was so happy I cried.

The preponderance of the best and happiest moments of my life have to do with my children, and this is the latest among them. When I was younger I wanted boys, and I had boys. This time I quietly hoped for a girl. Certainly a son would have been equally welcome, but the joy in my heart at learning we can expect a girl was vast and powerful.

Without even considering the many miracles that will be the life and times of this fair lass, for me as a person experiencing the world it will open the pathways that much wider. It will make me think of women differently. It will provide an entirely new aspect and nuance to parenting. It will continue to enrich my worldview in ways I cannot even begin to comprehend.

She will have big brothers - REALLY big brothers - to help guide her through the world. Her presence, her very life, will change all of our worlds: she is a grand-daughter, a niece, a sister, and a little girl. From there...only the Fates can see what lies ahead.

A little girl! The product of my own body! What a wonderful life I am blessed to lead.

On men, maturity and societal expectations

Wed, 26 Aug 2009 20:36:08 CST

Each year, I get better. Certainly not physically; I peaked in my physical capacity and appearance about seven years ago. As a man, as a person, as someone who increasingly gets closer to the person I aspire to be, I am getting better. Its really a lovely thing, and something that fulfills me even while keeping me optimistic about the quality and tenor of the years still ahead of me.

Ted Kennedy died today, and I was floored by the outpouring of seemingly unanimous positive and laudatory tributes to his life. Certainly his time as a public servant appears to deserve respect and acclaim, acknowledging the potential for corruption and graft of which I might not be aware. But what I am struck by was the lack of mention or attention placed on the incident which marred much of his earlier public life, the Chappaquiddick incident.

For those who are too young to remember or be exposed to it, when Kennedy was 37 he was driving in his car on Chappaquiddick Island in Martha's Vineyard in a drunken stupor with a 28 year-old female "friend" (he himself was married with three children at the time) and drove the car off a bridge and into Poucha Pond. Kennedy himself swam to safety but was unwilling or unable to save his companion who drown to death. Rather than report the incident to the police immediately as dictated by law, he waited 10 hours.

This is only the most public and tragic of Kennedy's various indiscretions as a well-known womanizer and hard-drinking good-time boy. He was no choir boy, and even directly contributed to the death of another human being. Not surprisingly given his family and status he got away with a slap on the wrist. And today, upon his death, he is "The Lion of the Senate," a man being treated with great reverence internationally.

By happenstance this week, I found myself at the blog of old Star Trek: The Next Generation star LeVar Burton. I was a huge fan of the show, but I have no clue how I found myself at LeVar's blog. In any event, in skimming the page, one of the things he wrote at some length about was how, as he aged, he has learned to be tolerant of other people. The example he used was of Star Trek visionary Gene Roddenberry. Burton explained that, as a little boy, he loved the original Star Trek and revered Roddenberry. When he was invited to take part in The Next Generation he was overjoyed to be working with his idol. Yet he was shocked and greatly disillusioned by Roddenberry's faults and weaknesses. While his philosophies and worldview may have been idealistic, the way he lived his life and treated others was certainly something much different. LeVar's point was that, while at the time it made him feel very negatively towards Roddenberry, over time as he himself got older he learned to accept those mistakes and weaknesses and again see Roddenberry in an admiring way.

These are only two examples. In a more general sense there is a notion of, particularly with men, a stereotypical pattern where boys and young men are haywire and out-of-control; as they age they become more compliant; by the time they are elderly their past sins are forgotten or excused and they are dignified leaders of the community. Like most stereotypes it has a basis in reality; I see it already in my mid-30's, as the misguided losers of their early 20's are suddenly Joe Average contributors to The Machine in their mid-30's. They are still the same person but they are in a different life phase, and they now "fit" better.

I've seen various examples of this in my own family life: my father was not a good father when I was a little boy, but he was an exceptional father and singular grandfather in his older age. His father was remembered as a terror by his eldest children and fondly as a loving parent by his younger children. My fiancee's memories of her father in his young years were as an overbearing terror, while in his older years he is a patient and doting grandfather, and generally pleasant man. It makes me wonder about my maternal grandfather, who I only knew in his old age as a prince of a man, and that is how he was remembered within our family: was he also a handful as a younger man who aged well over time?

And now its me. Truly, each year I get better. I remember when I was a senior in high school, my philosophy teacher told me I was the "prototype of the angry young man." I was angry and volatile and full of incredible amounts of often misguided and uncontrollable energy. At that time, in my early 20's, I thought I was a "bad person" in some way. I came to learn I was not a "bad person" at all, but perhaps it is even more than that. As a parent, I have always been a loving and caring parent, but I have certainly become a better parent with each passing year. I'm more patient. More tolerant. More flexible. I have no reason to think that will not continue to improve and increase in the years ahead.

Perhaps there is something in being young, or being male, or being young and male, which is characterized by our not behaving in ways that are most conducive to the common good?

But this really opens a lot of other questions: maybe we should expect and - heaven forbid - accept some degree of boys and young men acting badly. Maybe its hormones? Maybe its inexperience? Maybe its an incompatibility with our natural selves and a sanitized and tightly controlled modern civilization? I don't have the experience or knowledge to make proclamations or understand solutions, but we may broadly be holding many of our human citizens to unrealistic and perhaps for some of us impossible expectations of behaviour, compliance and decorum.

This post is not intended to apologize for Ted Kennedy, or Gene Roddenberry, or myself, or any of my family members, or any of the countless stupid and destructive things done by boys and men in this culture. But looking at all the data around me, and now having some body of adult life behind me where I've been able to observe changes in myself and so many others, perhaps we need to re-frame our understanding of age, gender, behaviour and set new and more healthy expectations for what we expect, allow and react to the doings of others. We and our boys have so much to gain from such a shift. My sense is recognizing this and shifting to better align expectation and reality is long, long, long overdue and would have a powerful impact on the mental health for the less oppressed and improve overall societal functioning for us all.

Product differentiation at 30,000 feet

Mon, 10 Aug 2009 22:05:35 CST

I used to say JetBlue was my favourite airline. The planes were more comfortable; every seat has a TV. Ultimately though, the difference between JetBlue and its competitors were not enough to have me seek out JetBlue. If it was the cheapest, I was happy. If it was $10, $20 more per flight, I might pick it over the tired old long-haul carriers. There was not really any loyalty, though. JetBlue remained a commodity.

Recently I took my first flight on Virgin America, and this time a new, upstart airline has stood out as a premium product and hooked me as a loyal consumer. How? The smart application of technology. There is no one thing they are doing; it is ALL of the things together. Here's my core reasons-why:

1. Standard 110v power outlets at EVERY seat. This is a magical little thing. No need to pack extra batteries; no need to pack an adapter. It even makes inflight Internet seem attractive. To be honest, I've always been critical of the idea of inflight Internet; its not something that I find particularly compelling. The main reason for that being, I know my computer will die in one or two hours and get very limited use out of it. Now, with that wonderful little outlet at my seat, I can watch movies, play games, use the Internet and do work to my heart's delight. In one fell swoop they've made happier travelers AND made it much more likely that people will actually spring for their fee-based (and, presumably, profitable) Internet service.

2. Ability to order food from a touchscreen monitor. This is another one that is literally behaviour-changing for me. Previously I would never order food on a plane. Part of it was stubborn principle ("This should be free!") and part of it was the abysmal quality of the food. But Virgin synthesizes the ability to order it on the touchscreen to be delivered whenever you want it, and they offer premium products. The cheese and fruit plate was really good. They had a great designer chocolate bar with heavy cacao and antioxidants and low sugar. Yum! By offering good products and allowing me to pick when to eat them, I actually look forward to ordering food on the flight, whereas before I wouldn't have even done it. That's good design, folks.

3. Quick check-in and security lines. I'm sure its not this way everywhere, but at Logan in Boston Virgin has their own security line! I took a picture of the empty Virgin line compared to the lengthy American ticketing line. Even before I got on the first Virgin plane for the first time, the evidence was the experience would just be better.

There were other things that were not necessarily positives for me but would appeal to their target demographics: rock music playing in the waiting area. Boarding people not by "Group A" but by "Group Angelina Jolie" and not by "Group B" but by "Group Brad Pitt." Y'know, because their names start with A and B. I'm neutral to the sterile white "modern" aesthetic inside the plane. But in these and many other cases. Virgin is different. Arby's different. (As in the old Arby's commercials, Different = Good).

The genius of the things Virgin gets right is in the combinations. Its not just inflight Internet, its also providing the power supplies. Its not just in selling good food, its in creating an interactive system that gets you what you want, when you want it. (That goes for free beverages, too!) Virgin America is an exceptional case study in how thoughtful and consistent design can take a product in an entrenched commodity product space and make it a premium product that people will pay good money for. I'm a picky guy; its not easy to make me brand passionate. When it comes to airlines, I'm a brand passionate. Its Virgin America all the way!

I love California

Thu, 23 Jul 2009 19:51:14 CST

When I'm here, I'm happier. I just enjoy the culture, the people, the diversity, the sunny skies, the lack of humidity, the amazing food, the brilliant minds, the gorgeous and varied nature. When I first moved here in 2005, it didn't take me long to start saying that, for the first time in my life, a place felt like "home". Being in Boston again and only periodically returning here, there is a lightness in my step and a smile on my face.

The down side is that it is prohibitively expensive, so choosing to live here would mean other trade-offs. So if I end up here or not is a completely open question. But if I had all the money in the world, and I still had to work and contribute (as opposed to go to Hawaii and enjoy perpetual pleasure), I would be one happy Californian!

Money brings out the worst; a quick exploration of identity

Thu, 23 Jul 2009 16:27:00 CST

During the last nine months of economic recession, I've learned a lot of lessons. Some were new, some were simply affirming truisms I had absorbed but not experienced, and some were things I knew but were now getting them in a different way or flavour. As is the case for many other people, it has not been an easy year.

Examining all of the battle scars, though, most garish is the stark understanding that money truly does bring out the worst in people. The latest example was just recently, from a person and in a context that I never would have expected. But it is only the most recent example in a trail that stretches back months. Money makes people act differently. And strangely. Especially when they are afraid. People I like/(d) and know/know weren't/aren't the same anymore.

At the superficial level, this will lead me to be more formal in agreements, and just generally assume and plan for the abnormal case as opposed to the typical - even with those I really click positively with. On a deeper level, it raises questions of being and identity: who are we, really? The person we are during our best moments? Or during the daily routine? Or who we are at moments of stress and anxiety? Or who we are during our worst moments? At some existential level the answer is "all of them". But that runs very contrary to how we are perceived by others. Some people see most of us. Others see very little. So each of us is simultaneously thoughtful, rude, smart, absent-minded, hard-working, lazy...often polar opposites.

The differences lie in our behaviour as contexts and situations change, as well as in the perception of the various receivers. How we act in the same moment could be perceived as funny by one person and obnoxious by another. Consequently, those people have an entirely different picture of who we are - despite our being almost literally identical in both cases from an objective and sanitized standpoint.

So who is the essential me, or the essential you? Even if we stipulate that everyone's perception of us is unique and necessarily different from one another in ways small and large, somewhere underneath it all there remains the self. Within which, we are something - either general or specific. Some of us might think we are one consistent thing, while others view themselves as complicated and diverse (an old friend of mine would refer to herself as acting depending on "the decisions of the committee in (her) head," which would ostensibly prove variable and inconsistent over time, depending on which "committee member" was holding sway).

Are we ultimately a continuum, not any one thing but many different things? At a simple observational and analytical level that is sensible, but it doesn't speak to the extremes. It does not seem adequate to say a serial killer, for example, is just like the rest of us but happens to have "this side" to them. I think its more than that.

No answers here yet; I haven't really thought about it to be honest, this is more a hemorrhaging as I scratch my head in amazement at how people act when it comes to money. But these are important concepts that, while seemingly ethereal, if answerable could give us a far better understanding of humanity, behaviour, and how we as individuals and a society should shift to accommodate the reality - simple or complex - of human identity.

Time marches on

Sun, 19 Jul 2009 14:44:23 CST

Late in his life I would visit my grandfather periodically, perhaps once a month. He sat in his study in a recliner every day, slowed by various maladies. I would sit with him for a few hours and he would talk about his life. During these visits, the focus was on my grandfather, with whom I was very close.

At the same time, my grandmother was always there as well, sitting in the kitchen right next door. She was ostensibly cooking something most of the time, and kept a small television set in there to watch during the day. Perhaps her favourite thing to watch was golf. When I would arrive and leave, it would involve going through the kitchen, talking with her a bit, and watching the golf with her. Her favourite golfer was Tom Watson, whom she saw as a more likable protagonist than the great Jack Nicklaus. Grandma was an exceptional athlete and had a whole collection of loving cups from her own golf tournament victories.

This week, her Tom Watson made an improbable run at a British Open championship. All week, every time there was a story about it, it made me think of her. She passed away almost 14 years ago, yet Tom Watson's success this week brought her right back into my life, every day, in a familiar and happy way. As Tom fell agonizingly short of victory and then collapsed on during the playoff to lose the championship, it made me think that this might have been one of the last things that happen in the world which take me back to my grandmother, as if she were still in the kitchen, watching her golf as she always did. She was a lovely person, and Tom Watson helped me remember how much I miss her.

The names must change

Mon, 13 Jul 2009 17:26:45 CST

Thanks to the Internet, it is an inevitability that we will drastically change the way we name our children. Why? Try Googling even a semi-common name. There are hundreds, nay, thousands of results. Each of us wants to be relatively unique and special. We want our children to be relatively unique and special. In the analog world, we could name our child "Patrick Mahoney" (the name of an old friend of mine) and he likely would not meet another Patrick Mahoney in his lifetime. Now, not only is he confronted with many, many Patrick Mahoney's, but old friends and people who care about or want to connect with him will not be able to find him, precisely because there is a global glut of "Patrick Mahoney's" coming up on any search of the Interwebs.

Its not a question of if; its only a question of when. My guess is that, rather than a future name being "Patrick John Mahoney", it will be "Patrick John Jacob Jingleheimer Mahoney". There is always the chance we go to unique identifiers instead, such as 13io45ght with more user-friendly "nicknames" put on top of them. But I suspect the weight of history will prevent that drastic of a shift. We'll see what happens, and when...

Me and the Pope vs. The "Civilized" World

Wed, 08 Jul 2009 17:42:21 CST

Imagine my surprise upon learning today that me and the Pope (yes, the Pope!!!) apparently share an identical stance against one of the parts of our modern world that I most hate: capitalism.

In remarks made today in advance of the latest G-8 summit, the Pope stated,

"Today's international economic scene, marked by grave deviations and failures, requires a profoundly new way of understanding business enterprise....Above all, the intention to do good must not be considered incompatible with the effective capacity to produce goods. Financiers must rediscover the genuinely ethical foundation of their activity, so as not to abuse the sophisticated instruments which can serve to betray the interests of savers."

Right on!!!!!!

His overall statement - part of his monolithic Third Encyclical Letter - is based on a specific Christian belief and worldview that I do not share. Regardless, his conclusions - that capitalism in its currently operating form is antithetical to healthy and appropriate human functioning - is 100% right on.

When I used to give papers against capitalism back in the early 1990's, shortly after the fall of the USSR, people thought I was a nut. So I stopped. I decided to join the system, make some money, and perhaps help change things from the inside someday. But in the last 15 years, something funny has happened: the cracks in the Machine are showing. The walls are crumbling. And it just might become time to pick up the banner again and expose capitalism for the naked emperor it is. This time, perhaps, the wisdom of those words will be what carries the day, as opposed to ignorant fear regarding the implications of replacing an entrenched but fatally flawed system.

Me and the Pope, in lockstep, against the ignorant G-8. Who woulda' thunk it?!

Stupidity 101

Fri, 26 Jun 2009 10:22:50 CST

Why is it that doctor's request you get a blood test after you visit them and not before? I mean, when you get the test after you get a random postcard in the mail with numbers that are meaningless to you, or a phone call from someone other than the doctor giving you the information. Why isn't the test BEFORE the visit so you can, y'know, actually ask the doctor about the results? I'm guessing its an insurance issue, but whatever it is, it is completely idiotic. Why bother seeing the doctor at all?!

The quantification of work and technology

Thu, 04 Jun 2009 21:08:52 CST

This is a bit of a long and detailed post. If you are turned on by any or all of economics, math, science or philosophy, I think it will be worth your time and encourage you to hang in until the end. If not, feel free to ignore.

We're working on a disruptive technology that has the potential to radically downsize a multi-trillion dollar industry in the U.S. While actually being a catalyst to such an outcome requires a great deal of wishful thinking, the problem space has nonetheless got me thinking about the relationship between human work effort, technology, and the corporate good. After all, if we're going to make the walls come a' tumbling down, there's going to be deeply vested people fighting it. There's going to be countless workers paralyzed with uncertainty. Anything we can do to better understand and communicate the benefits while mitigated the fear and self-interest is to our great benefit.

So it is that I've come up with a conceptual approach to quantifying the labour, and particularly the juxtaposition, of human effort and technology. Here's the example:

It takes a certain amount of effort for a person to dig a small hole in a grassy yard, lets say 12 inches deep and 12 inches in diameter. It would be dirty work, it would be uncomfortable work, but could be completed pretty quickly. If you only need to do it once, it is a perfectly acceptable thing to just dig the hole out as opposed to buy or find a tool to help.

At some point, if the size requirements for the hole get too large, digging it with your hands becomes arduous and, at some point, impossible to do within what would remotely resemble a reasonable timeframe. For that you need a tool; lets say its a shovel. Suddenly, it gets relatively easy again. The shovel accomplishes the work in a small percentage of the time and effort your bare hands would require.

If the requirements for the size of the hole get bigger still, at some point a shovel is as impractical as using bare hands was at a smaller size. At that point you need to upgrade, lets say to a backhoe. Suddenly it gets relatively easy again. The backhoe accomplishes the work in a small percentage of the time and effort your bare hands would require.

If the requirements for the size of the hole get bigger still, at that point, you just get another backhoe. And then another. And then another. And then...

Here's the "a-ha!": all of this is quantifiable. It is absolutely possible to figure out the point at which digging a hole should evolve beyond bare hands to a simple tool, then from a simple tool to a more complex tool, until you finally reach the most advanced tool technology has to offer, in which case you either change your requirements or simply get more of the same tool working on the same problem.

How would one go about determining this? Sticking with my original example, there are objective criteria and subjective criteria. Objectively, it is a question of how much energy it would take to dig the hole with your hands. My business partner Juhan thinks that a calorie might be the atomic unit to measure that. This instinctively seems as good a measure as any. So, it takes a certain amount of calories to dig a hole of a specific size in a specific terroir. How one person gets the hole completed as compared to another has no bearing on this, there is a specific and explicit amount of energy expenditure necessary to dig that hole.

Subjectively, it really depends on the individual person. In digging the hole with your hands, you are going to get dirty to one level or another. Some people are repulsed by this; some don't like it but deal with it; others enjoy it. Similarly, some people enjoy physical labour and would find putting a lot of effort into digging a hole with their hands a pleasant or even enjoyable act; others would be highly perturbed; most of us would be somewhere in the middle. Acknowledging that this ultimately matters and needs to be considered in a more thoughtful way, for the purpose of this example we will assume that all subjective measures related to individual people come out as perfectly average. The point in doing this is to focus on the clearly objective part of this, the calorie.

Another variable that can be quantified in the context of an atomic unit is the technology. In order to create a shovel, there is an expenditure of both human and natural resources. These would include but not be limited to: the wood of the handle, the metal of the shovel itself, the tools that cut down the tree that provided the wood of the handle, the tools that prepared the wood to function as the handle, the tools that extracted the metal or alloys from the earth, the tools that led to forming the shovel head shape, the tools that went into assembling the shovel as a complete unit, and all of the human work required to bend the natural world into a shovel. This is, ultimately, quantifiable. I don't know what the correct atomic unit for this is yet; maybe it can even be bent to be calories for a true apples-to-apples. But, regardless, we now have two fixed and quantifiable data points:

A. Energy required for a person to complete a physical task (calories)
B. Resources (Energy?) required to create an artificial object

Now, using a shovel also requires a person working - which requires calories. So if x = the amount of calories it takes for an average person to dig a hole of a certain size using their bare hands, and y = the amount of calories it takes for an average person to dig a hole of the same size using a shovel, then x-y = the amount of calories saved by using a shovel. It is quantifiable. And since we additionally have a quantifiable metric for what is taken to create a shovel, we can begin to do analysis on the relationship between the amount of human calories saved by using a shovel to help dig the hole, versus the costs of making the shovel in the first place. With most technology, there is also either or both degradation in the object over time and with use, as well as the possibility of a fail which would require repair. There is also the possibility that someone could injure themselves using the shovel. All of these things need to be accounted for. Importantly, all of these things CAN be accounted for! These give us additional, fixed data points to use toward analysis. Adding them to the previous list, we now have:

A. Energy required for a person to complete a physical task (calories)
B. Resources (Energy?) required to create a tool
C. Human energy saved through the use of tools in addition to or instead of expending calories
D. Decay of - and related devaluation of - the tool over time

And again - and importantly - all of this is quantifiable!

Then you have the backhoe. That adds another layer of consideration beyond just the shovel. While a shovel will do modest collateral damage with its use by potentially damaging the ground or what is on/under/around it (which also needs to be accounted for!), a backhoe substantively damages the world around it: the gas and oil it burns, the pressure and stress it puts over the roads it lumbers over, the damage to grass, flowers, plants, trees, animals and whatever combined flora and fauna that get in its way. So lets add THAT to the end of the list:

A. Energy required for a person to complete a physical task (calories)
B. Resources (Energy?) required to create a tool
C. Human energy saved through the use of tools in addition to or instead of expending calories
D. Decay of - and related devaluation of - the tool over time
E. Damage caused by use - or even just ongoing existence - of the tool

There might be other things I've missed. But this idea is just hours old, and for the purpose of making the point I think I'm being superficially thorough (how's that for a happy paradox?!)

But what we now have is quantification of all the variables necessary to measure the footprint of technology: we can analyze the data and actually identify the precise point it makes sense to use a shovel as opposed to bare hands, then the moment when to move from a shovel to a backhoe. Using the list letters above as variables, and then treating variable x as equaling the number of times the tool is actually used, we get:

Cx - (B+Dx+Ex) = Absolute "value" of a shovel

Yes, the amount of data necessary to get from this framework to actually HAVING the numbers in real life is staggering. But I imagine we could get a clumsy WAG figured out taking a day or two of time just culling existing data on a lot of these different subfactors. The beauty of it is that it is all solvable.

I can hear you now..."OK, why does it matter at all if we can figure out when to use a shovel instead of digging a hole with our bare hands. Who digs holes with their bare hands anyway?"

This is not about the example; this is about the methodology. The thinking can be used to evaluate ANYTHING! Historically, we know by instinct and education that an assembly line is dramatically more efficient than the higher touch methods that preceded it. But, what is the real difference? It is determinable. We can identify the precise moment using that assembly line was superior to more manual means. Or, using a steamboat as opposed to a raft to get down the Mississippi. Or, using a train as opposed to a horse to carry a load. We already have horsepower to roughly measure the power and speed, but what about the costs? The decay? What is, in some holistic way, the totality of difference between the two? We can answer that!

This thinking can be used for anything and everything. I would even posit it should be used for anything and everything. We shouldn't use technology and tools just because we can; we should use them because they make sense. I think we can figure out what makes sense and what doesn't, and why.

Now, lets take this up to an entirely different and even more hypothetical level. Let pretend that various technologies become so powerful that people, for the most part, don't need to work. There are machines, robots, computers and whirlygigs (my word for technology we can't even imagine) so that we can all sit on pillows and eat bon-bons all day. I think any medical doctor, psychologist, geriatrician or other professional schooled in healthy human functioning will tell you this is not a good thing. Even if we didn't have to work, it is good for us to spend some minimum amount of our lives working. That is, there is a point where machines replacing humans becomes a point of diminishing returns for us. It is no longer a welcome convenience but a recipe for rigor mortis in the prime of life (to quote the wonderful John Cleese).

Given that, there is a point - a measurable, quantifiable point - after which it is BAD for our species if technology replaces our manual efforts. To be clear, we're not there yet; not even close. There is plenty of work out there to be done. But it is important to consider that there is a FLOOR to how little work we want people to be responsible for, after which point it is diminishing returns.

I propose that our ability to quantifiably understand the actual "value" of every man-made object is absolutely essential information to our successful navigation of the future. This is a deeper way to analyze existing (and minimize future) environmental damage. It is an objective means of comparing one product against another and pretty precisely identifying which is more valuable. And, to the point of the original thought experiment that led me down this little wormhole, it can help us not be afraid of emerging technology while better managing its planning and use.

Technology is inevitable. Since at least the industrial revolution, technology has prominently and even routinely taken jobs previously performed by humans and replaced them with machines. Jethro Tull - who was an agriculturalist before a rock band - invented the seed drill almost 300 years ago. His workers were furious: they thought they would all lose their jobs. Agricultural technology has evolved many times over since then, and the seed drill certainly did not prove to be the end of western civilization as we know it. Most people in the United States, for example, even during this dreadful economic period, remain employed. Technology might change the jobs we work, but it largely does not ultimately make it impossible for us TO work. As such, the important questions and answers around technology have not to do with job loss in the abstract, but the relationship between human effort, technology benefit, and the start-up and ongoing costs of using that technology over time. We can measure carbon footprint. We can codify the value to the planet of a 100 year old tree. It only requires we connect a few more dots to get to the point I'm advocating.

My only question is: if it hasn't already been explored or accomplished, why on Earth not?

In Memoriam: Sigurd Knemeyer

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 16:39:17 CST

My Father passed away on October 2, 2006, succumbing to cancer less than four weeks after learning that he was ill. He was a solitary person who tried hard to help the people in his life, touching not only his family and friends but multiple generations of students during a long and successful teaching career.

Dad was born in Berlin, Germany in 1939, the second of seven children. As a young child he lived through the Second World War right in the eye of the hurricane, eventually moving to a rural family farm in Germany before he, his parents and siblings made their way to the United States. Dad's grandfather, who owned and was headmaster of a school, was a citizen casualty of the Russian army toward the end of the war. Dad's memories of Germany were largely of hunger and hardship: photos of Dad when the family came over to the U.S. show a painfully thin, almost frail young boy. He was rarely smiling in pictures even as a child, a trademark that would remain throughout his life.

It was in Yellow Springs, Ohio that Dad's family settled, in a large rural home on many acres of property, by a river. While his memories of this home centered around inconveniences such as having to use an outhouse and the water pipes freezing during the wintertime, his siblings more fondly recall the rich rural setting and opportunities for natural play and exploration. I've visited the home once, for a memorial service for Dad's older brother Manfred, and it is a truly majestic country setting. A neighbor who was an author - intrigued by the family's journey and constitution - wrote a children's book, "One Step to America," of which Dad was the young protagonist, recalling actual experiences from his and his older brother's life.

Dad's memories of his parents were largely unhappy. He recalls their not attending his basketball games - his team was very successful and his younger siblings recall his particpation with pride, and like all of the older children the relationship with his father was tumultuous. In fact, a newspaper article on the team is one of the only pictures I have where Dad is smiling.

Dad's father, Siegfried, was one of the best-known aeronautical engineers in the world, a man who knew Charles Lindbergh and oversaw the early work of Wernher Von Braun. He received prestigious awards from both the German and U.S. governments in his career, and brought commensurate expectations and a rigid approach to his children. Dad recalls being beaten with a rubber hose when he did not comply with his father, a pattern of non-compliance that would repeat itself consistently as he chose to serve in the U.S. Army instead of the Air Force, as he felt drawn to a career in education as opposed to engineering, and as he consistently did not measure up to unrealistic expectations that few people could possibly meet. Dad happily recalled childhood stories of making mischief, such as putting a live chicken in the drawer of a teacher's desk, which ostensibly led to tumult and mayhem in the middle of class. But these stories all managed to end with his being severely and often brutally disciplined. On the other hand, his siblings shared stories of Siegfried letting Dad drive the car on his lap at a very young age (a practice later repeated by Dad, first with me, then with my sons), and of Dad riding his bike many miles to the Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, where his father was busy designing airplane cockpit interfaces. Yet, somehow these stories have been edited from Dad's remembrances of childhood. One of the things I am most sad for in looking at Dad's life is that he never emerged from the shadow of a disapproving Siegfried, menacing him.

After leaving the Army Dad attended Ohio University (OU), where he met Mom. During these years he also worked on cargo ships that sailed on the Great Lakes. He met Mom - who was working on her Master's at OU at the same time - on a blind date, and they were married a couple years later. One memorable anecdote from these years is that he enjoyed the Peanuts cartoons and applied a popular catchphrase from it, "Happiness is..." in a variety of ways. Mom also remembers him being very proud of his German heritage at this age, an interest that would remain with him throughout his life.

Once they were married, Mom and Dad took residence in Mom's hometown of Toledo, Ohio. Dad began teaching in the Toledo Public School system at Burroughs Elementary School. Some 35 years later his grandsons would also attend Burroughs. After a few years at Burroughs Dad moved on to Byrnedale Junior High School, where he would spend more than 25 years teaching science to seventh and eighth grade students. One of my strongest memories as a child was going with him to school on a teacher work day and, while I was exploring his classroom, discovered hidden in the fire extinguisher case three trophies, each of which were for the Teacher of the Year. Dad never shared with us at home that he had received these awards, and we later learned that they discontinued the award because of his yearly dominance of it. As I grew up and spent my early adulthood in the Toledo area, over time I came to meet many people who were effusive in their praise of Dad: for the way he infused the classroom with humour, for the way he cared, for the individual interest he took in the well-being of his students, even outside of the classroom. While Dad did not toot his own horn about it, he had to realize he was a highly effective teacher who was much appreciated and, in at least some cases, even beloved by the parents and students that he touched.

For me, growing up with Dad was difficult and confusing. We constantly seemed to be battling: my earliest memories of Dad are his spanking me as a three year old at a Big Boy restaurant. Like his father, he had a rigid idea of what his son should do, a fact exacerbated by his envisioning how, thru my success as his son, he could perhaps finally satisfy his father's unrealistic expectations for his own success. This led to years of unhappiness for us both, if not our whole family, as we battled on a perpetual basis. Our struggles are perhaps best captured by my tumultuous academic record: I was asked to leave two private schools and dropped out of high school as a freshman before he and Mom sent me away to a boarding school for difficult and struggling children. Ironically I was a troublemaker in class, living up to his own stories of mischief in the classroom, much to his chagrin.

As were Dad's memories of his father, my memories of Dad growing up are invariably negative. I remember his humiliating me over my physical appearance, sowing seeds of insecurity that I still fight today. I remember his dropping me off for sports games and practices and not returning until hours later, leaving me stranded and alone for a long time after the activity had completed. I remember that, when he took me to WrestleMania 3 (yes, I was a big wrestling fan in my early teens!), he not only was openly disdainful of professional wrestling but even brought his briefcase with homework into the arena to fully illustrate how disengaged he would be with the experience.

Yet, while those are the things at the front of my mind, there were certainly good memories. My mother has told me with obvious sincerity how proud Dad was of me as a baby. And I can envision this, the pride and hope and potential that my young father saw when holding his first child. I remember as a young boy, my father would sit out front in a lawn chair and smoke a cigar while looking at the stars, and I would sneak down the stairs past my bedtime to sit out there with him. And he would welcome me, and he would talk to me, and I felt loved and special. I remember his throwing the tennis ball at the garage for me and my friend Chris to retrieve as we - in a strange bit of juxtaposition - pretended to be Bucky Dent and Babe Ruth, respectively. I remember how exceptional he was as a racquetball player, almost every year winning the "A" league at the Jewish Community Center, and my staring up in amazement at his name on the plaque of winners year after year after year. I remember the pride and satisfaction in his voice when I would score in the 99th percentile on standardized tests, albeit balanced by the unhappiness and pressure during the periodic times my scores were a little lower. I remember his giving me money for most of the things that I wanted or asked for, generous for a middle class income, probably to the point of spoiling me. I remember going with Dad and my cousin Curtis on a three week trip to Germany as an 11 year old, a wonderful experience for a developing lad.

Then there were memories that are more poignant to me as an adult, as I try to deconstruct and improve myself. When Dad attended my sports events he sat alone in a lawn chair, well down the base lines from where the rest of the parents and spectators sat together as a group. At the time it made me feel embarrassed because it was different; as an intraverted adult, I consider to what degree these qualities in Dad - either through nature or nurture or both - spur me to stay apart and disengaged from groups of people in contexts where I'm not professionally compelled to be connected. Particularly as I hear stories of his parents - rushing off the front porch and hiding in the house when strangers approach - and as I observe the behaviour of my youngest son - retreating in horror to avoid being the first in a group to enter a public place like a restaurant - I see the thread of generations, and reach out to make sense of the connections between us all. For me, Dad is my direct and primary role model, and the primary lens thru which I explore these things. I'm left with only the memories now to parse.

The defining moment of my childhood came as a 15 year old, after I dropped out of high school halfway thru my freshman year. Dad - convinced not to let me slide away - researched options and found Valley View School, a boarding school for bright students who are failing in a traditional setting. As Dad would say, Valley View "got me on the right track". I excelled in the highly structured, strictly disciplined environment which was rich with activities, experiences and opportunities. While I would go on to further struggles in my young adulthood, thanks to Dad's determination I was able to complete high school and go to college. It was only later and with the perspective of more of my life that I was fully able to appreciate how based in love for and commitment to me that this was. Indeed, Dad was so moved by my and our struggles that he spent the last 10 years of his teaching career getting deeply involved with the parents of students he identified being at risk, even leading to facilitating several of his students or the children of friends following me to Valley View. In fact, I was asked to serve as the guest speaker at the Valley View graduation ceremony in 2004, something I really wish he could have seen and what would prove in many ways to be the full circle moment, validating Dad's effort and investment in me through a celebration of my success as an adult.

Our relationship was tepid into my mid-to-late 20's when, as part of my own self-discovery and self-improvement, I moved beyond a lot of my baggage from childhood and sought out a close relationship with both of my parents. I'm so thankful that I was able to do this, as it gave us a number of years where our relationship was consistently positive, regularly involved in one another's lives. Yet we were never able to get truly close: Dad was a naturally solitary person, not one to overtly express love and acknowledgment. Also, his interests were fairly limited and not shared between us: he enjoyed playing racquet sports, bird watching and courtroom-related television programs.

During these final years I really began to learn from Dad, as well as fully appreciate and truly respect him. This is because, after his retirement, he put more of himself into his grandsons - my sons - than anything else in his life. And he was exceptional: always thinking about things that would help them develop and grow and facilitating those things, from numerous summer camps in the U.S. and Canada, to after school and other extra-curricular activities, to myriad trips and activities during their summer breaks. Together with Mom they took the boys to Chicago, multiple trips to our cabin on Lake Wabatongushi, to various parks and museums, to swimming lessons and daily summer trips to the Jewish Community Center pool. And Dad had so much more planned: New York City, new camps, a dude ranch in Colorado (where we had taken a family trip some 20 years before) - and more. "The Boys" as he was so fond of calling them became the center of his attention. I never heard him more happy or more proud than when he was recounting the successes and the experiences of The Boys. While he was not an effective parent he was an exceptional grandparent, and by his actions he taught me the role and importance of parents and children and family. We've all seen those cheezy "#1 Grandpa" T-shirts, but Dad really was the #1. He loved them so much and put so much goodness into them. They are so blessed to have had him and his energy in their lives for these years. And while some of my sadness about Dad's passing was for him and Mom and myself and others, most of the tears I cried were for my sons who will not continue to benefit from the amazing life and energy that Dad infused into their lives.

The very end was difficult. The pronouncement of imminent death came quickly and unexpectedly, and to the last Dad was not able to reconcile or accept what had happened. He emotionally distanced himself from all of us, even as we took care of him in very difficult physical and emotional ways. Always gruff, Dad was fond of saying that people didn't need to tell him they loved him, or hug him or kiss him for him to know that they did in fact love him. And his saying this was as much a communication that he would not say or do those things, that we had to know that he loved us by "his record" of behaviour over the years, as he would put it. And I did know that he loved me, and I did understand the complexity and enormity of what he was dealing with. So I was unphased by his disconnection: that was Dad and where he was, and it did not reflect what his heart held for me. His record had spoken for itself. So while I regretted that he could not tell my sons that he loved them the last time he saw them, and while I cried inside for my mother who could not understand why he would stay up late talking with the nurses while hardly saying anything to her all during the day, that was just who he was, for better and for worse.

I remember two Christmases ago when Dad was going to drop me off at my friends' Mike and Terry's house for the day, and they were going to later drive me to the airport. Well, they invited Dad inside for a few minutes. Those few minutes turned into the entire day. And I saw a side of Dad that I almost never saw at home: joking, relaxing, talking about worldly things that he usually would not discuss. And he was happy! Typically, Dad only seems to be happy when he's talking about The Boys! And I learned later that he had neighbourhood friends whose homes he would walk over to and stay and talk for hours, people who only knew him that way and loved him and thought he was wonderful and lovely. And those parts that were particularly wonderful and lovely, that came out when he was outside the house and in contexts that were comfortable for him, are parts that we rarely got to see at home. Like his father before him, who was beloved by colleagues and friends but often unapproachable at home, Dad was frequently distant around us, the people who loved him most.

I have so much to thank Dad for. I've already talked about his commitment to me and sacrificing to help me be successful, as well as a similar commitment and his even better execution with my own children. But Dad gave me something in his death that, paradoxically, took the experience of his dying to have happen. As he went thru this brief illness, between the pain he was feeling and the drugs he was taking, Dad was often not able to make good decisions for himself. And because Mom was very concerned about limiting Dad's pain and trying to keep whatever time he had happy, she was predisposed to encourage decisions that had that outcome. So I had the opportunity to step forward and be Dad's advocate. I was in Toledo most of the time during this period, and when I was I attended the meetings with his doctors. I decoded their often confusing and contradictory recommendations and analysis, translating it in clear terms to Dad. At the same time, I was listening very carefully to Dad during all of these weeks, analyzing what he said and what he wanted. And I was thus the primary conduit between the doctors and Dad's decisions and situation. For the first time in my life, I had the opportunity to advocate and fight for him. And I did it with everything I had, proactive and focused and doing everything within my power to help navigate him to a place that balanced being consistent with his wishes and in his best interests. This role and process taught me a lot about myself, and I've never felt more pride in anything I've done than how I advocated for and helped Dad during this period. When he was taken from his home for the final time, he instructed the paramedic to move out of the way, to let me lift him from the hospital bed onto the stretcher. He told them that I was strong and that I should do it. And looking at his eyes, the pride and confidence he had in me to take care of him...perhaps more than any other moment in my life, this seemingly little thing communicated with absolute clarity how he felt about me. Just as he said, it didn't take words or a hug or a kiss. In his confidence in me, I knew exactly how he felt, and what we meant to each other. While he was still at home, there are memories of nights taking care of Dad that were heartbreaking in so many ways that I will not publicly share and will always make me cry if I stop and think about them. But in those experiences, in my "stepping up" (as Dad would put it) to take care of him, I found things in myself that I didn't know I had. For this I am so appreciative: even in his death, Dad was giving to my life.

It was important to me in this memorial to recount Dad in my terms, through my lens and perspective while trying to add additional and hopefully objective facts to paint a vivid and accurate picture. This is how I knew him, and is the way I can most deeply and authentically remember him. Dad was a pretty average person "on paper" who was unfairly expected to parrot his father, and in the process was left to feel inadequate. When deconstructing him over the years I've always termed it as Dad was "broken" by his father and never got fully put back together again. That is tragic, for Dad showed through his vocation of teaching, through his sacrifices to family, through his easy wit and happy laugh (that came out much too infrequently) that he was someone who cared a great deal for other people, and was deeply motivated to help them be more successful. If only his father had identified and valued these wonderful things in him, perhaps his smile would have come more often and more easily, and he would have felt more comfortable and at peace in the home and with the family where he was loved. Dad always seemed to be looking out somewhere else, whether it was his saying that he wished he could have lived in the Pacific Northwest, or spending most of his free time with his tennis and racquetball friends, or wanting wistfully to go back and visit Germany. I wish that I could have somehow helped him to bridge that gap, to find his answers with us. But that is less for me and more for Mom, but especially for Dad himself. He was a good person, one who loved despite not being taught how to love or having love modeled for him, and did the very best he could despite not having good role models or even the skills in some cases to be successful. He did his best, and he provided for us all.

There are so many things I've forgotten, some I will likely add when I remember them and some that I will not. But in all of this, I love my father very much. I know that he loved me, and I know that we appreciated and cared for each other. There may be other, more physical and everyday things that a parent and child can share, but I feel absolutely blessed for what we did have. Thank you, Dad. I will do my best to continue the things you find important and valuable, and remember you fondly. I love you.

***

Here is Dad's obituary that I wrote for the newspaper after his death, followed by emails that we received:

Sigurd "Sig" Knemeyer of Sylvania, Ohio, age 67, passed away on Monday October 2. A passionate advocate of teaching as a profession, Sig taught science at Byrnedale and Burroughs in the Toledo Public School System for 35 years, where he inspired students by mixing a deep concern for their development and well being with his unique sense of humor. He enjoyed spending time at the Jewish Community Center, where he participated in racquetball leagues for many years, and also played in tennis leagues at various area clubs. An avid naturalist, Sig often went birdwatching with family and friends in the Northwest Ohio area, along with taking regular trips to favorite destinations such as British Columbia and Lake Wabatongushi in Ontario. In retirement "Gramps" took particular joy in being a grandparent, spending much of the summers with his grandsons. Sig also served in the United States Army and graduated from Ohio University.

Sig is survived by Mary, his wife of 38 years; daughter Karen of Sylvania, OH; son Dirk of San Jose, CA; grandsons Alexander and Brandon; sisters Heide Zajonc and Doris Le; brothers Michael and Friedel; and former daughter-in-law Shannon Miller. He was preceded in death by parents Doris and Siegfried Knemeyer and brothers Jurgen and Manfred.

Sig was much loved by family and friends and will be deeply missed in death.

Consistent with Sig's wishes there will not be a memorial service. The family asks that, instead of flowers or other remembrances, donations be made in Sig's name to the Toledo Botanical Garden. You may also email condolences to the family: sig@knemeyer.com

***

I want to convey my condolences regarding Sig's passing, he and I were room mates in the 1st Msl Btn, 33rd Artillery, in Ansbach Germany. in the early sixties, he and i were personnel clerks, we had the best job in the battallion. He was always trying to teach me German and would drag me with him when he met with German families, we would go to his german friends houses at Xmas time and drink the wine and juice mixture, at the time I was notified of my fathers death, in December 1964, sig, Mike Cotteleer a lawyer in wheaton illinois now, and Don Jones who married a german girl and brought her back to the U.S., he also lived in Illinois.

Sig was always a teacher and was one of the most positive people I ever met in my life, he often talked about his father and wright patterson AFB, he is one of the few people I ever met in my life who never said a bad thing about anyone, he was a true friend.

A number of years ago, Sig stopped in Des Moines, Iowa on his way through, I believe he was working on a boat in the great lakes, it was wonderful to talk with him again, Sig was a major influence on my life, i was just off an Iowa Farm when I met him in the Army, i think he was the first positive influence on my life and instilled in me the importance of education. I ended up with BS in accounting, passed the CPA exam, and picked up a JD degree when I was 45 and returned to my farm here in Iowa where I raise corn and soybeans today.

I just wanted you to know I thought he was a great person and had a positive influence on my life and that now at age 64 I wish I could have spent more time with him. Take care of yourself, and i think it was a wonderful thing that you posted the document on the internet, without it I would never have been able to read about Sigs life. John F. Foust

***

My name is Michael Cotteleer. I served with your father in the personnel section of the Headquarters Battery, 1st Missle Battalion. 33d Artillery, Ansbach, Germany, in the early '60's. I was saddened to learn of your father's death via an email from John Foust, another Anbach vet, while I was on a cruise around the Hawaiian Islands last November. Although I have known and reflected over Sig's death since learning of it, it was only today that I stumbled across your very moving recollections of your father on your web page.

As John Foust's testimonial on your web page states, your father was a friend and a teacher to us all in those Army days together, and he is at the center of some of my fondest memories of my time in Ansbach. When I arrived in Germany, I possessed an inventory of 25 German words, when I left Germany, in large part because of time that your father and I spent together, I had learned enough German to proficiency out of three semesters of German at college. Undoubtedly, as result of his experience as a German youth and his more recent German heritage (I have the same heritage but it is four-generations removed from the old country), he was the person who instigated hosting a Christmas party in the messhall at our Kaserne for the children of an orphanage in Ansbach. Your dad played Father Christmas, all get up in the suit, the beard and everything, which contrasted boldly with his dark hair and features (which I see that you share with him).

Because we had invited the children to visit us, your dad and I and Don Jones were invited to visit the children for their Christmas celebration at the orphanage. It was the first and only time that I was able to witness a traditional German Christmas tree lit by real burning candles, in a darkened room, surrounded by singing children. It is an image that lives with me still. During that visit, your dad, Jones and I each "adopted" a child, who we visited weekly together for many months, taking them out for walks and buying them presents.

During my time together with your dad, I got it into my head that I wanted to try the examination for an Army appointment to West Point. Because I had been a high school dropout before joining the Army, I was not confident I would do well on the test. All the time I anguished over my prospective performance, your dad constantly boosted my confidence, and was so certain that I would do well on the test he bet me a (fake) suede jacket that he owned (and I admired), that I would succeed with the test. Although I did my best, and I did well on almost all segments of the test, it turned out that my weakness in the math segment, made the overall result unacceptable. Not surprising when you consider that the degree granted by West Point is essentially a civil engineering degree. True to his word, your dad gave me his jacket and it was a prized possession of mine for years.

In reading your remembrance of your dad, I have to confess that the man you describe is not entirely the same person I knew in Ansbach. While your dad could be dry on occasion, and often, even when having a good time could wear a straight face, he was always someone who was caring, considerate, laughed easily, had a sense of humor, and was fun to be with. But then again, I knew him when we were young, without responsibilities and far from the influences or irritants of home.

I know that I have at least one and perhaps more photographs of your dad from our Ansbach days. If you will give me your address I will send copies of what I have to you.

Once again, I am sorry for your loss and even sorrier that I did not have the chance to look up your dad when he was alive, although I thought about him often and whether or not he had ever completed his studies at Ohio University. At least your essay about him helped to answer some of the questions that I wish he couild have answered personally.

***

Mr. Knemeyer will forever hold a special place in my heart and family. First, he helped develop a love in my oldest daughter for the Canadian geese that come to the Toledo area. Secondly, he recognized the symptoms of ADD and ADHD in my youngest daughter just before I thought I would lose my mind. He kindly provided me with reading materials. Those materials equipped me with strategies that helped my children and I make it through some difficult times. He showed a professionally genuine concern for his students and provided both students and parents with practical ways to deal with learning difficulties. Perhaps this is part of his ?eternal? life?he has touched so many lives we will never forget him and the lessons he taught us will be left for posterity! You will be in my prayers for I know you will miss his physical presence, but he has left a treasury of good memories. Think on these memories. God continue to bless you as He holds your lives in His hands.
Sincerely,

***

I know that my classmates, siblings, and parents will agree that Mr. Knemeyer was a wonderful teacher who instilled a love of science in all those who were fortunate enough to be enrolled in his classes. I will especially remember my days on the Science Olympiad Team with him, Mr. Leonard, and Mr. McGloughlin as our patient leaders. May the Lord be with you through this difficult time.

***

First, I am very sorry for your loss. I know it has been a very tough month for all of you. You did everything you could to make Sig comfortable and for his sake and yours, I'm glad he is no longer in pain.

I remember going to Byrndale for one of Sig's science fairs. He was very proud of his students and the kids really loved him. I was a kid myself, but that day I saw a different side of Sig and will remember it forever.

Our family if very sad for all of you and hope you will take care of each other. Sig would want that.

***

Subject: Awesome human being

Knemeyer Family,

I am deeply saddened by Mr Knemeyer's passing. I am a former Student of his at Byrnedale in the late 70's. His humor (and yardstick) were ever present in our lives. He was a dedicated teacher and mentor to many young people at a time in their lives when they feel the world is spinning out of control. I work with young people and I think of the patience and care he used with his students, when I get frustrated.

His life was a testament to the good that happens when adults take the time to care about young people. . . .even when it gets difficult. We were blessed to have had him and the world is less with his passing.

Deepest Sympathy,

***

Subject: Sympathy

Dear Mary, Dirk, and Karen,

I am so sorry to read about your great loss in today's paper. Sig was always great fun either on the tennis court or in "regular" situations. He was a gentleman, very kind and obviously very bright! It was a pleasure and a privilege to know him. Please accept my sincere sympathy.

If I can be of any small help having walked in these shoes already, please let me know.

***

Subject: A dedicated heartfelt teacher

Many prayers and blessings are sent to you the family .

Mr. Knemeyer was one of those teacher's in my own life that inspired me with kind words of wisdom and encouragement. Even though I had him for a Science teacher at Byrnedale in the early 1980's, I will always remember how much he cared for his students. He taught me how to study and to achieve high standards - "You can do this" or "You know this" - I smile now that I think of this it seems like yesterday. He always talked fondly and with great pride of his wife and children.
I feel blessed that in my lifetime I met him.
You truly had a wonderful caring husband, father and grandfather who made a diference in his students life.

In Sympathy,

***

Subject: Condolences

Knemeyer family,

I am very sorry to hear about Sig. We worked together for a great many years at Byrnedale. The kids loved him and especially when he would say do you want some blue, referring to a detention card.

My Condolences;

***

My deepest condolances. He was a very nice and gentle man and always concerned for his tenents. He was the best landlord I have ever had and am glad I got the chance to know him.

Group behaviour

Thu, 12 Mar 2009 16:19:32 CST

My buddy Lou tweeted into the ether a few minutes ago, trying to get an impromptu little meet-up of people who happen to be on the same flight as he, heading down to the South by Southwest conference. Assuming there is modest response, I can envision half a dozen or so design industry-related souls happily seeing and greeting each other at the gate before the flight. How strange that will seem! Having flown literally hundreds of time in my life, the idea of a group of people meeting in a pre-arranged way, chatting enthusiastically, possibly trying to convince others to change seats with them so they continue to kibbitz - while those same others are tortoise-shelled and stressed, waiting to hear their group number called out and hoping their carry-on bags will have enough overhead space - is a bit surreal.

Social network technology is going to create these weird moments of juxtaposition, where people are suddenly friendly and familiar in public spaces that were previously - and almost universally - uncomfortable, anonymous and inhuman. What is the impact going to be? Annoyance? Appreciation? What will the other people at the JetBlue gate think and feel? How will they react? In five years, will MOST of the people getting onto an airplane have "pre-arranged" to socialize in more comfortable and familiar ways? What will that mean? If its really "open" and too many people get involved for it to be comfortable, will it create a new form of isolation? Could it lead to further class warfare and stratification?

Yes, I've pretty much just put my imagination on autopilot at this point. Those are spewings, not predictions. But what I do predict is that, if these things accelerate and increase over time, it is going to create new and unexpected strangeness, awkwardness and social isolation of a very unpredictable nature. Of course, in the shorter term it will also turn some inhuman group social situations into more microcosmic happy, familiar and comfortable situations for those who productively connect. This is certainly not a condemnation of happy gatherings, it is more a counter-balance, an identification that in the longer now the group dynamics will be changed in ways we can't predict until we get there. We'll see what that means.

In the meantime, hopefully I too can participate in some warm-fuzzy happy familiarity with people I know and perhaps even care about, in what would otherwise be a cold and unpleasant group public context.

Credit and reputation

Thu, 12 Mar 2009 15:13:42 CST

While my wading into Twitter has largely amounted to just keeping a single toe in the water - opening the client once or twice a day, glancing at it for a few seconds, and closing it again - just a moment ago I saw something that made me think of a bigger issue. I saw a Tweet to a video by one Jesse Newhart, showing how to set up TweetDeck to be more useful. I turned the video on in the background and semi-passively listened while writing emails. At one point on the video, he commented on a feature that allows the user to "re-tweet" what someone else has written, and that you can "re-tweet" a "re-tweet", in essence creating a "chain" where an original person creates content, a second person promotes it, and then a third person promotes it again. In describing this process, Jesse cheerily noted, "And here I'm giving props to two people, instead of just one person."

As a big picture, systems thinker, this immediately made me think of how this mindset could quickly break down, as re-tweet after re-tweet means that "props" are being given to five or six people. At some point, ALL of them become irrelevant and glazed over because there are TOO MANY of them. Suddenly, NONE of them are recognized because ALL of them are recognized. It reminded me of academic papers, where the list of contributors are so voluminous that, ultimately, you barely pay attention to the first person's name only and then skip ahead to the content.

We need new and more nuanced ways to give "props" to people for different things. For example, with Twitter, authoring a new post and forwarding on that new post to others are decidedly different things. One is a process of creation; the other, a process of distribution. That distribution, as Jesse's example indicated, can then continue down a "chain" and deprecate. You can have 10 different distributors but there is always only one author. So, why are the "props" the same?

Better is to have multiple means of giving credit to people. How an author is credited and recognized should be different than how a distributor is credited and recognized. More, a reputation or credit system should have built in multiple axes upon which credit can be accumulated. Maybe an author gets their name at the front of each "re-tweet" while the re-tweeters themselves just get a reputation point? The mechanics of this specific example would be better solved by heavy Twitter users; it is the issue which is important for any social/community software product now and into the future. And it frankly is not being solved very well anywhere!

We need to be more thoughtful about how people are recognized. Especially in a world where online identity and reputation are becoming more pervasive, where we need deeper and more thoughtful means of establishing some sort of valid and meaningful online identity, this sort of thing needs to be strategically solved and adequately baked-into the applications we're building. If TweetDeck is nightmarish about this (and, just imagine how powerful a reputation system would be in the hopelessly flat and undifferentiated Twitter wasteland), then you can start to imagine how older and more venerable apps and products struggle with this issue. Why? Reputation is important. Get thoughtful about it and make something smart happen!

Not safe yet

Fri, 27 Feb 2009 11:39:55 CST

The scythe that is the recession/depression of 2008-? could still cut me down to equine feed yet. Blame a catastrophically incorrect estimate for my personal 2008 tax burden. GIANT hits to cash flow when your stocks and home are underwater Atlantis-style is decidedly negative EV (Expected Value, for all you non-poker ballers out there).

Twitter: early returns

Fri, 27 Feb 2009 11:35:51 CST

I'm not a big fan, at least yet. There's certainly potential: some of the people I'm following post interesting, thoughtful things. Some post the right amount of relevance and interest about their daily lives that I like it and don't think its Spammy. Other people use it as this weird business/marketing megaphone - in a nice way, certainly, but in a way that ultimately is inauthentic and makes me think less of them. Others post FAR too many mundane and trivial details about their daily routine and life that simply clutters up the entire feed.

I've been told I can set up groups or otherwise "filter" the people I'm following to get around some of the posters I don't care for. And certainly I could stop following some of them. But it just seems like a lot of work to learn how to Group and otherwise figure out how I want to cluster people in the app, while I'm concerned that - if I stop following people altogether - they might take offense to that in some way, which for at least some of them matters to me.

That said, there is potential. One resonant moment saw someone post about a good blog I had previously read and thought about. I replied to that sharing my pattern observations and deeper, considered conclusions and, as a result, various people following ME checked it out as well and appreciated my distillation. That was a nice moment. I would like to *contribute* more of that, and see others contribute that sort of thing. Unfortunately, in total, people are posting TOO MANY links to good or supposedly good content, and almost always without GOOD, THOUGHTFUL editorial insight, opting instead for the useless, "Great article by Joe Schmoe (link)".

There's also weirdness around "replying" directly to people. The folkways of Twitter encourage users to reply "publicly" so there are these ongoing threads from one person to another but shared by all. Typically, I'm not comfortable with it. Not from a privacy sense; as this blog has illustrated, I'm perfectly comfortable turning myself inside-out for the masses. Rather, its the Spamtastic nature of it. I don't want every little flirtation and goof with my friends to reach the point where my followers roll their eyes and say, "Not @dknemeyer again!"

I do think there's a "THERE there", I'm just not quite ready to invest the time to make it really work and work well, or even if I put in that time, whether it would be worth learning the app, pruning my private little garden, and investing myself. For the time being, I will keep TweetDeck installed, open it up now and again, and post something if the moment strikes.

The one thing I HAVE gained from it is that there are 3 or 4 of the people I'm following who are colleagues/shallow friends (not using shallow in a pejorative way here) that it strikes me I'd really like to know them better and have an even deeper respect for them. If nothing else, that alone makes the process worth it.

Being moved

Wed, 25 Feb 2009 21:25:41 CST

Tonight, I cried twice.

Today is my son's birthday. As I talked to him tonight, thinking back on the day of his birth, appreciating him, missing him, loving him, in the course of that conversation I was moved to tears. My love for him is so deep, and makes the distance that much more heartbreaking. But my tears were not sad tears, they were happy - with twinges of sadness and remorse. Above it all, though, was my love for my son.

Later I spoke with my mom. Our conversation was winding, but eventually made it around to my father. As we talked about his death and trying to coordinate a posthumous service as requested by his sister, I found myself crying again. This time out of sorrow and longing and loss. And, certainly, love.

So tonight I cried twice. And it really felt good in a deep and meaningful way. It had to do with celebrating my beautiful son, and feeling love for the people who matter most in my life. Ultimately, those relationships are the things that matter. Palpably feeling that is ostensibly a wonderful thing.

To Tweet or not to Tweet?

Wed, 18 Feb 2009 18:12:19 CST

I've been aware of Twitter pretty much since it began. I signed up for an account (being in software, it is my Sworn Duty to sign up and check out Hot New Services to stay current), and watched it become a geek mainstay with some level of bemusement. At its most ridiculous level, I did not appreciate the benefit of knowing every time the people I care about are choosing to get a cup of coffee. I let the party rage on without me.

Today, I sit in a studio next to someone who has TweetDeck open in the background pretty much 24/7. Its a pretty interesting little app, and I've seen the social power that his sharing some of the things we are up to has had in a very practical sense. A friend has termed it as "Facebook is where you connect with old friends again; Twitter is where you get closer to the people you want to have as friends in the future." That's a pretty provocative statement, and one that is certainly near to my heart.

So it is with some trepidation that I've dusted off the old Twitter account, downloaded and installed TweetDeck, and am sitting, staring at it all, trying to decide if I should jump in and what the implications would be. Despite never having made a single Tweet, I already have people "following" me. So, right from the start, somebody will be "listening". If I'm going to do it, I want to have a reason, and I want to add value, and I want the relatively minimal time investment to "matter" in some small way.

This website was, in a supremely different format to Twitter, my attempt to start Tweeting before there was a Twitter. That is, this site exists to share myself with those who choose to read it. Despite appearances to the contrary, I have no delusions of self-importance. I am a man with family and friends who love and care for him, and as for the rest of people who find and read this site, my meaning and importance to them is largely as ephemeral as the latest fashion or trend. That is largely by design: I "do" this for the people I want to be close to and make a difference with, not out of some sense of reflective or aspirational celebrity. I suppose that when I launched this website was near my peak of micro-scale celebrity in the design/user experience industry, and the personal branding component had a place in my motivation for getting started. But, as I hope the content has reflected, this is really about me quite honestly putting myself out there in ways that - either now or someday in the future - matter to the individuals who matter to me.

So, how does Twitter "fit"? I honestly don't know. I'm trying to get to the point where I'm committed to it, where I start and use it regularly and not let it languish, as this website has in the ebb and flow of its life (notice the recent FLOWING?! Huzzah!). I imagine that by the next time I write something here I will be Tweeting. As of now, I expect my broadcasting will be intended for the people I care about and who personally matter to me, whereas my watching will be more eclectic. My friend Ivan today - a heavy Twitter-er (prolly not the right noun; soon I won't make these newbie mistakes!) used as an example that people can sign up to the feeds of people like Shaquille O'Neal (famous, aging professional basketball player) and get Tweets from him on the bench while he's playing a game. I'm not sure if that example was theoretical or actual, but it seemed really cool! Shaq is not the celebrity-type person I would actually want to subscribe to, but the idea of getting a message of what is in someone's head in the middle of their doing something interesting or unique is a pretty compelling idea.

And, if it turns out I just get a lot of messages about people getting their coffee, I will quietly fade away.

The biggest change for me is this will "break" my personal policy of NEVER, EVER inviting people to social networks. All of my Facebook friends and LinkedIn Connections are people who asked ME to connect with THEM. I take a certain pride in "not really using" the services, a sort of passive position that has some degree of defensiveness and fear of rejection just subtly under the surface. Well, if I end up using Twitter as I initially intend to, by definition I'm going to be changing that policy. I'm going to quietly reach out and Follow the people I am interested in. While ultimately not some Important Cosmic Shift, there is the release of some sort of emotional safety in proudly staying at arms-length from the transactional relationships of the network. I'm going to reach out, and people might not reach back. This is not something I'm worried about in any emotional sense, but a clear change in and departure from how I use social networks in my whole quiet history of using them.

So look for me to start Tweeting in a user interface near you sometime soon. @dknemeyer, for those of you who are interested.

Logic 101

Wed, 18 Feb 2009 11:49:00 CST

IF the U.S. Government bails out industries, companies and people who - either through ignorance, bad judgement, incompetence or corruption - have gotten themselves in an intractable fiscal position, then they must also create socialistic safeguards and paternalism that govern the so-called "free market system". Otherwise, people like me - those who educate themselves, pay all their bills on time, gainfully employ a variety of people, wait to buy a home until the mortgage is reasonable, safe and fiscally intelligent - are just going to leave or quit. I live my life sensibly, often to my own discomfort, as others live irresponsibly or beyond their means. In total, the tax dollars collected by the government is ALL OF OUR money. If my contributions are being given to others who "live in the moment" more than me, or otherwise sacrifice the future for the present, that is directly and specifically to my detriment. While I will tolerate the current round of bailouts as a valid attempt to "save" our economy on some macro level, my tolerance for watching those who made bad decisions benefit on MY back is, indeed, quite thin. The people who are doing things RIGHT should be benefitted, not penalized. When the economy started coming tumbling down, I committed a tremendous amount of MY money to protect our employees, at great personal financial risk. Where's MY bailout? Where's MY reward? Why is ignorance rewarded and responsibility, implicitly in the shake-out of all of this money moving, penalized?

At the very least, I want a promise this isn't going to happen again. Get the system stabilized. Save us. Then CHANGE THE BLOODY SYSTEM. Make sure ignorance, bad judgement, incompetence or corruption from companies and individuals can't drag down those of us who work hard and intentionally behave in a way that is intended to not just improve our own comfort and happiness, but benefit others and the collective well-being as well. Law requires Justice, and Justice requires Fairness. Absent that, why bother trying to do the right thing? It makes infinitely more sense to go somewhere else and operate within a system that supports and rewards your efforts. That is, truly, Logic 101.

Sympathy: A Redemption Story

Mon, 16 Feb 2009 21:35:35 CST

Once Upon a Time in modern popular culture, there were clear Heroes and Villains. My earliest memories of such things were seen in the old U.S. propaganda movies of World War 2 (Hitler, Hirohito and Mussolini = Evil; The Allies = Pure as the White-Driven Snow), re-runs of the 1960's era Batman TV show (Batman and Robin = Heroes; Virtually Everyone Else in a Goofy Costume = Villains). Then, moving forward, from The A-Team to Miami Vice to Hulk Hogan saying his prayers and eating his vitamins in juxtaposition to evil vermin like Nikolai Volkoff and The Iron Sheik, there was no doubt about who we should cheer for, identify with and hope would prove victorious. (Full disclosure: I personally rooted for Rowdy Roddy Piper to groin shot Hulk Hogan when Piper was still a Despicable Bad Guy, but that doesn't change the general cultural positioning) It was literally as clear as black-and-white and consistent across most every mainstream cultural artifact being produced.

In the 1990's, something changed. There was a consistent undertone of the anti-hero, of the villain who was more popular or otherwise intentionally positioned for the viewer to identify with as opposed to the "actual" hero. At some level, this was interesting. The somewhat bland black-and-white narrative was deepened with shades of grey. Not everything was obvious; not everything was stereotyped. It was novel and somewhat more like real-life. It was popular; it persisted.

At some point over the past 15 years, that has twisted into something different, something I think is unhealthy, wrong-minded and in violation of basic human decency. I'm talking about a seeming rash of the most evil, vile and despicable characters being turned into sympathetic heroes who are positioned to gain the adulation and rooting interest of the viewer. Two examples in particular have really struck me:

1. Sylar on Heroes. In the first season of Heroes, Sylar was the Ultimate Villain: a serial killer who could steal the power of other heroes if he would kill them with his unique method of cutting off the tops of their heads. It was gory. Uncomfortable to watch. The Sylar character was so vicious as he killed literally double-digit other characters by grossly and graphically cutting off their heads - including killing his own mother! He was the epitome of evil, and the entire season culminated with his being defeated by the efforts of a variety of heroes.

Fast forward to the second and third seasons. Sylar has been turned into a sympathetic figure. The storylines and motivations are jerked around enough to make it difficult to communicate how they justify the fact we should root for Sylar, but they range from his having been an orphan, to his becoming a parent, to his siding with Good, to his killing villains. Some combination or all of this, apparently, is enough to make Sylar a character we should identify with and root for.

THE MAN WAS A SERIAL KILLER WHO CUT OFF THE HEADS OF DOZENS OF PEOPLE, IN HORRIBLE GRAPHIC AND GORY DETAIL, INCLUDING HIS MOTHER. AND NOW WE WERE BEING MANIPULATED TO ROOT FOR HIM!

Not only am I done with Heroes, but I'm left reeling that a show would even attempt such a transformation, let alone on one of the large networks at an early time slot.

2 Dexter on Dexter. Another serial killer whom the writers want us to cuddle with like a Teddy bear. Unlike Sylar, Dexter was the main character of his show and the hero from the beginning. A hero that was a serial killer. In Dexter's case, they justify it: he is a forensic investigator who only kills those who are themselves criminals and have escaped the arm of the law. Additionally, as you learn over the course of the first season, Dexter has perhaps the most horrific possible motivation and reason to have turned into a serial killer, the butchery of his mother in such a circumstance that I won't even repeat, so vile it is. Almost every episode, Dexter murders someone, in a clinical and graphic way. Almost every episode, the writers attempt to make us feel sorry for Dexter and even see ourselves in him.

First, good was good and evil was evil.

Then, there were many shades of grey, not very much clear black and white, and our heroes were more complicated.

Now, evil is good and good is...well, there really isn't any good. Using these two examples, in Heroes, the central theme seems to be an obfuscation of truth, to the point that it is almost impossible to tell who is "really" good, with undertones that, in fact, they may pretty much all evil. In Dexter, all of Dexter's police colleagues are flawed - typically deeply so: corrupt, manipulative, larcenous, cheating, adultering. There is no "good" among them. The closest to truly "good" are the geeky lab rats who are made to be clueless buffoons, derided by the more normal but deeply corrupt others. The evil Dexter is good and the rest are just, well, not very likable.

I want to croon like Paula Cole: where is my John Wayne? Where is my happy ending? Where HAVE all the cowboys gone?

Listen: I have a graduate degree in popular culture so I'm well-versed in the fact that complicated narratives and notions of good and evil are volatile over all of human history. But I've been alive for 35+ years now in this specific culture, and the move from the preponderance of cultural artifacts moving from a very clean and clear black-and-white, to a muddy shades of grey, to the weird trend now of taking the most evil, horrible, reprehensible characters and trying to make us identify with, see them as victims and root for them in the context of their doing things like grossly and inhumanely killing others, well...something is wrong. For us to be at this point, where our entertainment is found in identifying with serial killers and rooting for them to butcher others...I don't have words to properly communicate the issues inherent in all of this.

We all have motivations for what we do; we all have a backstory and a reason why we are who we are today. Some of us are not very admirable or likable people, and we may well have good and sound reasons why, sad reasons that justify not being nice people. That's just life. But what is the strong cultural pull toward making mainstream cultural artifacts that glorify and try to make heroes of the MOST evil, MOST contemptible, MOST horrendous of humans and their behaviours? What on Earth is going on here? I for one wouldn't mind a nice, easy, straightforward narrative where I am presented with a largely admirable, good and well-functioning protagonist to root for. I mean, with all of these huggable and lovable serial killers running around, something as abnormal and counter-cultural as a plain-vanilla and uncomplicated hero looks pretty appealing right about now. In the meantime, I will leave cheering for the serial killers to the rest of you.

"Who is Johnny Carson"

Sat, 14 Feb 2009 01:43:44 CST

Today, someone who works for me didn't know who Johnny Carson is, because she is too young to have any cultural awareness of him.

(ahem)

Today, someone who IS A FULLY GROWN ADULT and works for me is so young that she was JUST BEGINNING GRADE SCHOOL when Johnny Carson went off the air, AND HAS ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHO HE IS (!!!)

This little morsel of shocking self-realization came about when I hummed the first notes from his old Tonight Show theme song and my partner Juhan queried, "Is that the Johnny Carson song?!" So, at least I'm not yet the ONLY person in the room so old that no one gets my dated cultural references.

Oy vey. It only gets worse from here, doesn't it?!

My goals for 2009

Wed, 31 Dec 2008 20:08:11 CST

(using the pseudo-democratic Alpha ordering system)

Be a better person. I'm already a good person, but I want to be a better person and citizen. More patient, empathetic and considerate. Less judgmental, morose and disdainful of public inconveniences like long lines and slow drivers.

Build Invo Boston into an important regional player. We're already rocking out Silicon Valley. Now I need to do my part to make Boston a shining success.

Establish a regular exercise routine. I was SO good about this in California, but have completely lost my pace thanks to a much different logistical situation here in Boston. Must. Be. Healthy.

Grow and deepen my relationships with the people I love. Family and friends alike; pay attention to those I love and do more than my fair share to make these relationships blossom.

Improve my leadership and management skills. I've got excellent natural skills and good learned wisdom, but often allow the diversity and complexity of my global responsibilities to derail my practical application. Accepting this state of affairs is not acceptable.

Live a more ordered life. With the big move this year, and exacerbated by being physically separated from my spectacular assistant, I have become completely disorganized, discombobulated and just feeling out-of-control of the minutiae of my life. I need to get this untangled.

Read and write more. "Reading" in any real sense has been largely out of my life since I started spending 12+ hour days on the internet some 12 or so years ago. Now, I'm reading again and I love it. Writing - what I once spent most of my time doing - has ebbed with the flow of my entrepreneurial responsibilities. I need to find it again.

Stabilize and strengthen my companies. Lots of transition in 2008, punctuated by the economic debacle of the last three months. We did such a great job creating a strong base and stable foundation before this mess, I need to make sure we get it back.

Its a long list, but one that is eminently "do-able". Give me 12 months and I'll tell you how I did.

Farewell to 2008

Wed, 31 Dec 2008 19:33:37 CST

This year was the most tumultuous in my life for some time, with a lot of change and turbulence throughout:

For the Good, I...
* Started a new relationship that is very loving, nurturing and fulfilling
* Gained an outstanding new business partner who is going to be a key component to my next level of professional success
* Helped my company achieve record revenues and added Apple, Microsoft and McAfee to our client portfolio
* Spearheaded the creation of new companies that will provide a platform outside of our existing software services to grow, diversify and explore
* Bought a house, the first home I've owned since moving out of the modestly priced Toledo real estate market

For the Bad, I...
* Went for (and continue on) an incredibly stressful ride, thanks to the economy dropping my company squarely on its head
* Laid off the first employees in our company's history, all of whom are outstanding people
* Saw one of my brilliant and amazing business partners shift into a new career trajectory (good for him, sad for me!)
* For the first time in my 35+ years on this mortal coil, entertained the possibility that, perhaps, if there is a perfect storm of continued badness, could be financially broken

To top it all off, something that is neither good or bad but more of an ongoing life experience, I moved back to the Boston area, as part of opening a new company. I really adored California so, as much as I like Boston, I can't quite put this new domicile in the "good" column just yet. Ah, what I wouldn't give for it to be 59 degrees today with partly sunny skies (the weather in Silicon Valley. Sigh.)

And those are just the biggest things. As always I spent some wonderful time with my family that was, as typical, not enough. That included a family trip to New York City, a week in Cape Cod, football camp for B and computer camp for A, a family Thanksgiving dinner, and getting to know the son of my new love. Travel was more than I would prefer, if exacerbated by all of the activities and logistics around moving. Destinations included New York City, Atlanta, Chicago, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Las Vegas, Monterey, and my domiciles of Boston and Silicon Valley for those of you counting at home. I probably forgot some.

This year also saw me move more completely into a CEO role as opposed to as a designer and consultant who just happens to be managing the business. In the short-term this meant a lot of administrative pain and tedium, but with the tantalizing long-term trajectory of putting my creativity and humanism behind designing business models and healthy companies. The more macro and complex my problem solving spaces are, the happier I am. So, as long as the economy finds some degree of faint pulse, enough infrastructure will remain to make this transition a reality. Oy!

The relationships with my closest friends were relatively lacking, owing to some mix of physical separation, mutual busy-ness, and abrasions from working together. My return to strategy gaming definitely intensified, and has become at this point perhaps my sole hobby. I'm gently assisting a new friend to design a great World War 2 grand strategy game that will be published later this year, a process that has me dreaming of early retirement and designing games of my own. I also started to read on a regular basis again, thanks to my iPhone. Viva technology!

2008 has been a mixed year for me in a world sense. The election of Barack Obama was an inspiration and started to erase my shame of admitting that I'm an "American" in cosmopolitan circles. But the news in general - ecological disaster, terrorism, wars, shocking crimes, and of course the collapse of the economy - make me legitimately consider blocking news websites altogether and just operate in a more limited sphere of existence. I mean, since I'm not going to change any of these crises that are happening, why torture myself with it? I don't suppose I will actually go through with a true moratorium on the news, but I certainly think about extracting myself from the rhythms and realities of mainstream society more and more everyday.

The stress of the last few months has been pretty unbearable. If I was not loved and nurtured at home my whole head of hair would be grey. Despite that I feel generally happy. In the moments when I'm not pinned down on the firing line I think I'm smiling and appreciating things more. For all of these reasons, good and bad, 2008 will go down as one of those memorable years for me, one that peeks its head out above the many "typical" years of our lives and is indelibly marked in my mind. While it would be divine to take the good and give back the bad such things aren't possible in our little human world. So I will just accept it all, appreciate it for what it is, and look forward to another year.

Auf Wiedersehen, 2008. And thank you to all of the people who have been part of my life this year. I am unbelievably blessed to be surrounded by so many truly good and admirable people in both my personal and professional lives. Each of you are, in your own unique way, appreciated!

A new day

Wed, 05 Nov 2008 12:53:50 CST

During this phase of my life I have largely treated my personal politics a private thing. I try not to talk about my preferences or get into the religious-like discussions about one issue or another, or one candidate or another. In part, this is because my beliefs are not mainstream: in my life I've voted for more third party Presidential candidates than mainstream party candidates. And I have even voted for a Republican! So, despite being generally liberal, I am far from a "straight-ticket Democrat". In general, I think both mainstream political parties in the U.S. are ideologically off track. I think capitalism is inherently and definitionally self-destructive, that our manifestation of democracy runs counter to the intention or raison d'etre of the founding fathers, and the only way humanity will start to evolve as opposed to continually DEvolve is through fairly substantial changes to our shared worldview that go well beyond any ideology of the powers-that-be in our country and world.

Needless to say, I'm not exactly a mainstream political thinker.

Regardless, when Barack Obama won last night, I cried. The darkness of the past eight years - the wars, the economic distress, being seen as buffoons by the international community, being the only dissenters of the major world powers on vital legislation such as Kyoto - all of these travesties might, just might, be coming to an end. No, Obama will not make the radical and dramatic changes our country and world need to go all the way from a freefall into an ascent. But at least he may slow the plummet. He may turn the tide. Truly, now, there is hope.

As if these aren't reasons enough to get excited, there is no over-estimating the symbolic importance of a racial minority being elected to the highest post in our land. This is not affirmative action, either: we have elected an extremely intelligent President with strong leadership skills and a magnetism that can bring people together. His relative lack of experience notwithstanding, this is a qualified and capable candidate that the majority of our country - a still caucasian majority - has elevated to the position of our leader.

I'm still a relatively young man. Yet, when I was a child, the idea of a minority President seemed unlikely. I can remember conversations in high school where it was generally agreed it was unlikely we would ever see a minority President in our lifetime. I still haven't hit the symbolic "over the hill" (40) age in my life, and yet here we have Barack Obama as our President-elect! The essential social undercurrent in the history of the United States is centered squarely around our issues of race. In recent decades, more liberal people bemoaned the loss of radicalism that was prevalent in the 1960's, a radicalism they claimed was necessary to achieve progress and change. Yet, despite 20+ years of capitalism transforming us further into half-asleep, gluttonous sheep that treat materialism as an end unto itself, despite an absence of riots or mainstream radical groups or major social protests, we've achieved a most peaceful revolution. In the years since RFK's death, which for the purpose of this diatribe I'm choosing as the decline of radical social politics in the United States, we've changed from a country with widespread segregation into one that is ruled by an African-American.

In this Land of Opportunity, is there any one of us - regardless of their politics - who cannot celebrate this as an important, momentous, truly defining moment? That we got here without Black Panthers or race riots or blatantly racist politicking is - when you step back and consider it - unfathomable. After generations of a complete dearth of active social radicalism, we are on the precipice of - just maybe - leaving all of the segregated baggage behind us and moving forward as a truly inclusive and integrated whole. Might the Great Experiment still prove to be a foresightful success?

Suddenly, I have hope. Optimism. Today, for the first time in some years, I am proud to be an American. That is an incredibly powerful and gratifying thing. Here's hoping the potential of this moment is realized, and that our President-elect begins and completes his term in office, whether it proves to be four or eight years in length, safe and healthy.

"I'm Great!"

Fri, 01 Aug 2008 14:23:57 CST

For this first time that I can recently remember - and we could be talking weeks, or months, or perhaps even years - my response today to the casual query of "How are you doing today?" was an enthusiastic and honest "I'm great!" Typically, it is some variant of "I'm OK" or "I'm busy" or some other slice of mediocrity that has become de rigueur in my daily routine and rhythm. Don't get me wrong: I've had plenty of moments of happiness or joy or feeling good in between. But now, hopefully in a consistent and lasting way, I'm feeling as though my day-to-day rhythm is becoming overwhelmingly positive. What a happy thing!

Being seen

Wed, 02 Jul 2008 19:17:02 CST

I indulge in the conceit of writing on this website for absolute public consumption; that is, there is no password protection or attempt to hide what I write. It is out there for anyone to be pointed to or find. In addition, what I write is largely unedited and reflects a raw and transparent view of what I am thinking or feeling. Granted, there are things that are particularly personal or things that I might think would not be professionally prudent to share given the likelihood of people I engage with professionally eventually encountering the site. Still, those topical omissions notwithstanding, I certainly use this channel to share a variety of traditionally private parts of myself in a complete and public way.

Recently, I had my first concern about this approach. After writing the posts about Brandon's football camp experience, someone - very well-meaningly - encouraged both of my children to read these posts, given their very powerful nature and content. While I know my children have previously seen and are aware of my website, I take it for granted that they don't regularly read it. Or, that if at times they did read it, it was not in a real-time way, but in a way where it more represents an artifact of the past as opposed to the present. This might have been naive or foolish, but was how I thought of it.

The reason their being urged to read those posts (and subsequently doing so) set me off is thanks to my inbred parental responsibility to make sure my children both know they are loved equally and of similar importance in my eyes. Suddenly, instead of simply writing what I am naturally compelled to write, do I need to have a content filter that ensures "equality"? Do I need to write an equal amount of posts with a comparable amount of passion about Alex's computer camp to make sure there are no hurt feelings? This sort of thinking is an unappetizing notion, to say the least. One of the joys of this space is to be the natural extension of my innermost feelings and explorations, to extend them outward because of the degree of insight into me, or the world, or the human condition that they will, in turn, provide for the people who care to read. While I need to have some degree of editorial consideration and not put some particular things out here that might cross the line of professionalism, that is a far different issue than suddenly withholding precisely the content this site was intended to convey or - even worse - manufacture content that is not in my heart just to meet some quota of superficial equality.

This is a difficult issue. I think I've decided to simply post what is in my heart and count on either the natural equality that develops here over a longer period of time, or just my consistency in treating my sons equally offline, to take care of equality concerns. Will that be enough? I'm not sure. But it is a reflection of how cherished this communication channel is to me that I choose to preserve it despite the theoretical stakes involved, namely the potential disenchantment or feeling of inequality from one (or, who knows, both!) of my sons.

Coming home from football camp

Thu, 19 Jun 2008 17:05:59 CST

This morning I went to Brandon's football camp to watch his final scrimmage and then bring him home. He again played well, and it was again a tremendous thrill to watch him out there on the field. On defense, even though he recorded seven tackles over the 35 snaps he player (which is an outstanding number for any position, let alone a defensive end; and yes I am a geek for counting!) I noticed that the other team ran almost all of their running plays to the other side of the field, away from Brandon. I assumed this was just coincidence. Well, during the awards ceremony afterwards Brandon won both the best defensive lineman award and the award for being the best defensive player overall. And the head coach again called out how he played every single snap of every practice and scrimmage - all week, no less! - but also commented that Brandon was such a force that the opposing offense ran their plays the opposite way from him as much as they could. I thought something was going on during the scrimmage today!

Brandon was very proud of and focused on the fact that he won two trophies ("One more than Justin!" he beamed, referring to his friend who won the award for best offensive lineman) but what made me the most happy was how hard he worked and hustled. His level of effort and intensity was truly exceptional, and again I was struck by a variant on the "son surpassing the father" theme. I had so much fun watching him that's its almost enough to get me to move back to Toledo so I don't miss out on more of the same for the next five years. If only I could manipulate the space-time continuum. Gosh, do I ever love my children!

A moment of perfect clarity

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 20:07:44 CST

As a divorced parent who lives across the country from his sons, I typically spend 6-8 weeks with them each year. While "not bad" given the geographic distance, it remains a relatively disconnected way to "watch" your children grow and live their lives.

So it was that today I took part of my afternoon to visit my eldest son at a football camp he is at this week here in California, while visiting me. He is a very athletic and physical 13 year old, and I expected he would be a solid contributor among the participants. Little did I anticipate that watching him on this sweltering June afternoon would turn out to be 90 minutes that I will never forget.

When we (my youngest son accompanied me) arrived, Brandon and the rest of the campers were on the practice field in a semi-circle in front of their head coach, the #2 guy at the program and the defensive coordinator at Whittier College. Boy, was he tough! Chastising the 12-14 year olds for wilting under the heat, explaining the commitment it would take to be successful football players, offering for any of them to go home if they weren't up to it, and explaining the commitment his college football players make to be successful at their sport. My father would have absolutely loved this old-school "hard" disciplinary approach to coaching. While I might not share my father's zeal for this type of discipline, I felt like it was probably good for my sometimes undisciplined son.

After about 10 minutes of this "tough love" the players split off for a mini-scrimmage, one where plays are run fully to their completion but, at the end, the ball comes back and they run another play from the original spot. Brandon's team was on defense first. He previously told me he was a linebacker, but here he lined up at defensive end. From the very first play, I could see that Brandon was something special. At this football camp, a place where only the most motivated or talented (or just with the pushiest parents!) players come, Brandon immediately stood out. He knifed between the guard and the tackle, getting into the backfield. He blew around the outside of the tackle, who couldn't keep up with him. He dismantled the tight end who tried to block him and bulled his way into the backfield. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. He hurried and hit the quarterback. He tackled a running back 10 yards behind the line, forcing him to shovel off the ball at the last moment in desperation. He was in on various tackles. My son was all over the field. Of his many outstanding plays, the most notable was when he blew through the line of scrimmage and got seven yards into the backfield and running at the quarterback. Unfortunately the quarterback had already handed the ball off to the running back who was running to the other side of the field, but Brandon pursued him at full speed. While his teammates missed their tackles, couldn't catch up, or already quit on the play, Brandon chased his little antagonist down and tackled him solo, 15 yards downfield from the line of scrimmage.

So, this was all really cool. But what was most amazing was what was happening inside of me. I felt a mix of adrenaline, competition and energy that I haven't experienced since myself being a high school athlete over 15 years ago. Without realizing it, I was physically involved in the scrimmage. Rather than sit in the stands I had chosen to stand at the edge of the track, as close to the action as I was allowed to. And as he ran up or down the field, I literally ran up or down the field with him. When he made that outstanding play chasing the running back down, I was running with him, and it took every single ounce of my discipline not to yell out "Way to pursue, Knemeyer!" for fear of embarrassing him. I was a live wire, excited, happy, and one with the world in a way that I am only a very small fraction of the time. It was truly a transcendent experience. At once I felt closer to him, channeled into my father, and discovering various and complex thoughts, feelings and realizations that would typically take weeks or even months to accrue.

After a time the teams switched sides and Brandon became a tight end on offense. While not the star he was on defense, Brandon was above average at the position. His blocking was inconsistent - sometimes quite good and other times underwhelming - but when they sent him out for a pass he was extremely fast and created excellent separation from the defense's linebackers and safeties. Unfortunately the only pass thrown his way was errant, but he was giving it his all. I had noticed much earlier that, whereas most everyone was substituting in and out periodically, Brandon was kept in the game for every play. At one point after he ran a passing route 35 yards downfield and came back to the huddle, he must have looked tired because the coach asked him if he wanted to come out. He shook his head, and played the last three plays. When it was over everyone shook hands, and I delighted watching him at the very end go up to someone on the other team who has obviously become a good friend and have a longer congratulations, conversation, and sharing of male rituals such as hand slapping, head knocking and other signs of affection. He had found some part of himself here.

Finally, everyone circled around the coach and took off their helmets. There was a cute moment where Brandon could not get his helmet off and the coach had to explain to him the right way to take off the straps. After making a little joke about it, the coach then chided some of the players for their lack of effort and then said, "Look at Knemeyer out there, he played every single down and, even when he was tired and I asked him to come out, he said 'No, coach, I want to stay in.' That's the kind of effort I'm looking for!"

At that moment, I could not have been any more proud of my son. To have watched Brandon put in such effort, and show such skill, and then imagine what he must have felt inside himself as the coach said that, it was an absolutely moving experience. My father would have been completely over the moon if he had heard that; he was all about effort and hard work. So then the coach dismissed them to go and swim in the pool, and Brandon ran over to where I was standing. I told him, "Brandon, I'm so proud of you." And he smiled a little but was looking the other way and not really "getting" the intensity or depth of what I was trying to communicate. So, I touched his chin, moved his head, got eye contact with him and said, "Brandon, I am SO proud of you out there." And he saw it in my eyes and in the intensity I was conveying. And he smiled so widely, and said, "Really?!" and just looked as happy as could be. Then we started telling and re-telling each other different stories from his 60 minutes of glory.

There is too much going on with and around all of this to convey in words what I'm thinking and feeling; it is moving too quickly and is too fluid. But among it was a realization as I watched Brandon that one of my children was doing something that I was literally incapable of - on the very very very best day of my life, I could not have put in the consistency of effort nor exhibited the skill and success at what Brandon was doing as he did today. My son in this context had absolutely exceeded the father. I can't even begin to tell you what an inspiring, comforting and...world-changing experience that was. To see someone who came from me, the literal fruit of my loins, be so marvelous and exhibit such effort in ways that always were and will be beyond my grasp, it was truly something to see.

I'm moved and warm and brought to tears by all of it. This was an absolutely spectacular day, one where I observed my little world with perfect clarity and was fortunate enough to have a moment to bask in it. Parenthood is an incredible thing.

"That's a good point."

Thu, 29 May 2008 19:09:28 CST

Recently, I was on a conference call where one of my colleagues spoke up with a contradiction to the direction being suggested by the client. The client listened, thought for a moment, and then responded by saying, "That's a good point."

Earlier in my career, I worked to be told I had made a good point. I mean, I worked hard for a lot of reasons, but when it came time to interact with or present to my colleagues and clients, I very much looked for positive validation of that sort. I didn't go into meetings literally trying to evoke such a response, but I was energetic, ambitious, and eager-to-please. That sort of an approach to work and ethic ostensibly results in positive reinforcement. So, when I would get a comment like that it would light me up inside.

As the recent client told my colleague, "That's a good point," I remembered the rush I used to get when receiving such comments, and wondered if he had felt a similar happy spike when the client said this to him, and in front of his boss (me) no less! Even more, it made me realize that such things no longer - or, at least, very very rarely - have any impact for me. I'm sure people still tell me I make good points from time to time. But I already know this. My quality and effectiveness are proven, and I am comfortable with them. I know I make good points. I also know I make bad points! But on balance, I understand and believe in myself, and someone else telling me I make a good point or am correct or insightful or whatever, now has become something that does not elicit any noticeable reaction in me, and certainly nothing like in the days when I was a young man and hearing such things could literally make my day.

I suppose I'm a little wistful that these sort of little reinforcements are no longer the source of a small piece of joy to me, but I appreciate the fact I can still identify such things, and remember the time not so long ago that this sort of a compliment would give me a smile, a tingle, and an extra bit of pep in my step.

"It is what it is": the "stuff" of a new generation

Fri, 16 May 2008 13:22:08 CST

When I was a boy, the word "stuff" really bothered me. It was used frequently, and it didn't really "say" anything. A typical exchange would be something like:

A: "Hi B, what have you been doing today?"

B: "Oh, you know, work and stuff."

Or...

A: "So B, what sort of things are you interested in?"

B: "I like Transformers and G.I. Joe and stuff."

Or...

A: "Hey B, what did you guys do at the carnival?"

B: "All sorts of stuff!"

A: "Such as...???"

"Stuff" was a catch-all. As an overly precise little guy it drove me nuts that so many people said "stuff" in so many different contexts, in the process seeming to say nothing at all.

Fast-forward to the early 21st century. On the "reunion show" episode for last season's Top Chef (a guilty pleasure) they did a short spot making fun of how everyone on the show would say "It is what it is" and that it was a total cliche. And as they showed many, many clips of the various judges and participants saying "It is what it is" it did seem quite ridiculous. Either on that show or in some other context, I "learned" that the expression started in New York City. It may or may not have, but that is not the point. Soon I realized that I was using "It is what it is". Perhaps not a lot, but certainly more than I would like to. And if you are familiar with this phrase or you have heard it yourself, you likely know that it operates very similarly to "stuff". It rarely adds anything to an interpersonal communication. It is, superficially at least, a passive acknowledgement that whatever is being referred to is existential; that is, quite literally, what can be seen and perceived from whatever is being referred to is exactly what it is, without subtext. Unless it is used ironically, in which case the subtext is understood.

Clear as mud, right? Stick with me, I'm getting somewhere that is potentially interesting, if not important.

Recently I used "It is what it is" again and, frustrated for my linguistic laziness, spent a few minutes really trying to figure out why I use it. And, like a thunderbolt, it hit me: there is an enormous gap between what I intuitively see and understand about things, and what I am able to competently communicate to someone else in a socially convenient way. In the example that started me off on this whole process of deconstruction, I was witness to a low-level conflict that was ultimately not very important but which was dripping with context just below the surface. I had a lot of insights on very interwoven and even independently complex things such as:

* The motivators of one of the people involved
* The ego conflict of another of the people involved
* Divergent understandings of what was at stake
* Incompatible conflict resolution styles that made it harder to work toward an optimal-for-all resolution
* Past history (read: baggage) that further complicated the entire process

And the situation resolved itself in a very ugly and illogical way. I knew the reasons why, very clearly, but they dealt with psychological and sociological things that people typically don't understand unless far too much time is taken to provide excess context. Later I was asked about the conflict and I very succinctly shared the irrational final outcome, shrugged, and said "It is what it is." I just didn't want to take the time to throw out on the table all of the deeper inter-personal things I knew were going on with it.

Bingo! Now I understand! At least for me, "It is what it is" is my way of not trying to unpack all of the layers that I can see and understand but which can be difficult to explain, and even which many people are skeptical toward. It is walling off a certain block of content from being shared, either for reasons of time or ease or just sanity. It enables me to give a condensed report of things and tie off that which is not always easy to explain, or that I simply don't want to explain.

Now, go back 25+ years to "stuff". I believe the word and common use of "stuff" was a reaction to a consumer culture. In a world where the consideration set of things you can do or think about is increased exponentially from just a generation or two before, it is not necessarily easy to remember everything you did, or to take the time to examine and talk about everything. By saying "stuff", you are walling off the conversation, including just what is important to you, or easy to remember, or what you are comfortable saying. Rather than being the default generic response from a disinterested child to a trying-to-connect adult, it is a mechanism to enable people not to have to deconstruct the physical particulars around them in an increasingly complex and new world. Rather than the tool of a flabby mind that little eight year-old Dirk saw it as, "stuff" was the "It is what it is" of an earlier generation: a shorthand way to say, "I'm either unwilling or unable to go into any more detail than this." And it is almost certainly the product of a late-capitalist, consumer culture that was rapidly accumulating far, far, far more "stuff" than ever needed to be considered or dealt with in the year before it.

Doesn't make sense to you? Hey, I'm not making this stuff up. You want me to explain it in more detail? It is what it is!

Hypocrisy and hyperbole

Tue, 13 May 2008 18:25:16 CST

I'm subscribed to the Wall Street Journal's News Alerts. I woke up this morning to one sent at 4:18 AM PT with the following lead-in:

"A monstrous scale of devastation is emerging from the Chinese region worst hit by yesterday's earthquake, and the government's ability to respond to the disaster may help define the kind of superpower China is in 2008."

The Wall Street Journal is published in the United States, these same United States that treated New Orleans and the myriad victims of Katrina as something less than what I would hope the lowest common denominator for "taking care of our own" would require. Yet, somehow, still amidst the rubble and ruin of that tragedy, the Journal dares to suggest that China should be judged or framed by their response to this event? How, precisely, would the Journal "define the kind of superpower" the U.S. is in that light?

At least, if Katrina is the benchmark, China does not have a very high standard to meet to define itself as an elite and appropriate superpower.

Found time

Tue, 13 May 2008 18:19:07 CST

My favourite thing in the world just might be found time. What is found time, you ask? It is when you unexpectedly have a block of time that you thought you would be spending in a way you didn't particularly want but, surprisingly, suddenly becomes free for you to do what you may. An example would be when, earlier in my career, I went to a client's located about an hour-and-a-half away for a scheduled six hour meeting that turned out to be just two hours. While technically I should have gone back to the office, instead I (shhh - don't tell!) went home and worked on a personal project. And that represented some of the sweetest, most enjoyable hours I put into the entire project.

So it was that, last Friday, I was planning to go and see Iron Man with the rest of my company as a birthday celebration for those with April-ish birthdays. I'm not an action/special effects movie kind of guy, so I was only planning to go out of respect for the birthdays, the proverbial "taking one for the team". As it turned out, one of my clients needed some work that had to be done quickly that afternoon. It was enough to do so that there was just no way I would be able to make the movie, even though I was done with the work about two hours before everyone would return from the theatre. Instead, I took that opportunity to go to the gym, where I did my "usual" semi-daily run on the elliptical machine.

I have to say, a sweeter workout I never have had. I was relaxed, smiling, not a care in the world. The only difference that I can cite compared to my usual workout is that, instead of rushing to squeeze it in before my workday starts, or trying to carve out an hour sometime in the day to make it happen, or doing it on my way home and cutting into my cherished "home time" (and in all three of those examples rushing and watching the clock), it was found time. It was footloose, fancy-free, not-beholden-to-anyone time that was completely mine, without guilt, stress or constraint around it. Even better, it was in stark contrast to what I expected to be doing that afternoon, sitting in a dark movie theatre watching something I wasn't interested in.

I categorically, absolutely adore found time. I wish there were easy ways to "find" more of it!

Why I don't use Google to "Google" anymore

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 15:56:07 CST

Today it hit me that I rarely use search engines to find information anymore. The specific example is a little embarrassing: I was looking over the days' headlines and read, "No 'Secret': CBS cans show after one episode" next to a picture of former Star Trek actor George Takei. This jogged my memory about a commercial I had seen for a painful-looking and forgettable new TV show about low-level celebrities "showcasing" their hidden, unexpected skills in an American Idol-type setting. I had zero interest in watching the show but the fact it was canceled immediately pulled my "morbid curiosity" string and caused me to click in and read the article. There wasn't much to it, just spelling out the planned format with some granularity, reiterate that it was canceled, and briefly lamenting that Danny Bonaduce would not get to display his secret skills since he was scheduled to be on the second episode. Immediately I asked myself, "I wonder who won the only episode of this train wreck?" The article didn't tell me. Once upon a time, I would have then Googled the name of the show. But as time goes by I've learned that going to Google for such things will not necessarily answer my very explicit question. So, I went to Wikipedia and searched the name of the show instead.

Why Wikipedia? I've learned from past researching of TV-related things that they have pages for every show I've tried to research and tremendously granular information about them. They additionally are assiduous in listing the weekly and overall winners in reality shows, and generally provide a nice overview of what is going on. I knew that their page for this show would answer my question, and I was right. Indeed, not only did it outline why there wasn't a winner and why (it is a multi-week competition and voting had not concluded) but it had a lot of other information and was even updated with the show's cancellation status, updated approximately as quickly as the news site that started my journey in the first place.

And as I thought about it, that I went to Wikipedia as opposed to Google, it struck me that Google is quickly being displaced in my life. Here are some other examples from just the last few days, but which speak to a trend that reflects usage behaviours that cannot, long-term, be good for Google:

- When someone mentioned the title of an interesting new video game to me, I went directly to www.metacritic.com to research it, not Google

- When I needed to buy some rather diverse things, I went straight to www.amazon.com to find and purchase them. (periodically, I will then use a Google search as a price check against Amazon, but Amazon is so frequently either the lowest or comparable to the lowest I am starting not to do that anymore)

- When I wanted to research the movies of Akira Kurosawa, I went to www.imdb.com

- When I wanted to look into the music of a new band I heard on the radio, I opened up iTunes

- The only thing at this point that I still regularly use Google for is researching people. And, frankly, once I find either their blog or their LinkedIn page (I don't start with LinkedIn because too many people still don't use it, even though most of the people in my industry do), I'm done with Google vis a vis learning about that person. Unless I can't find a picture online, in which case I'll run a search thru images.google.com

This must be troubling for Google. After all, it reflects the fact that there are a number of increasingly solid, complete, "go-to" resources for different topics and uses. And once you have those destinations figured out, you no longer need to "search" in the vast blue ocean of the Interwebs to find what you're looking for. Rather, you go to the trusted source that you are comfortable with and know how to use.

Sure, for people who are less sophisticated computer users, or who don't use the web as ubiquitously as I do, it might be years before these sort of "safe haven" sites of information are discovered and routinized into their use and behaviour. But in a world that is becoming increasingly digital, as the elderly Luddites are slowly passing on and being replaced by babies whose parents put iPhone's in their hands with stars in their eyes, future users will be even more sophisticated and proficient than I am. What will the function of Google be then?

Listen: Google is mega-rich company, and they are pursuing many different avenues of diversification and growth. So I'm hardly worried about their business viability or share price (yes, I am a stockholder!). But, the essential Google product - the search engine - suddenly seems to me a very terminal thing. Rather than being the first place people go to find things, it seems destined to become a niche tool that fills in the cracks where strong services don't already exist, or the rare time the standard services don't provide what someone is looking for. It raises the interesting question of how the web will function in five years. Reflecting on my changing online behaviour I suspect it will be quite different than it is today. I just haven't thought enough about the operating dynamics of that paradigm change yet so as to suggest a thesis of my own. Either way, I'm looking forward to it.

Forgotten by history

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 17:08:44 CST

When I was younger, I wanted to be famous. Not so much famous-for-famous-sake, but more because I intuitively understood that through fame I could stretch my essence beyond the bounds of my physical life, in some clumsy way thus living beyond my actual lifespan. This greatly eased my fear of death and gave me something to strive for.

At some point during my grad school experience of taking philosophy classes, the futility of this goal settled in. Even if the most famous among us extend themselves in some way beyond the time of their actual life, at some point in the future they will completely cease to exist. Even if there remains a sign of that person the signifier will be no more. Over the long now, memory dies away.

This was an initially difficult pill to swallow, but ultimately a liberating one. After all, if even Julius Caesar will someday cease to exist or have meaning, what is the point in chasing this sort of hollow "immortality"?

Fast-forward to today. As computers and the Internet begin capturing and codifying so many artifacts/moments/facts/etc. of humanity, the collective memory of what was and is here on Earth is getting longer. It is still ultimately terminal, but the infants of today can expect an almost shocking amount of "institutional memory" about them, ranging from written words to pictures to videos.

What is interesting to me is, by contrast, the way and degree to which older things are being left behind and have missed this particular boat. Here are some examples that I've been thinking about recently:

1. My grandfathers. They were both, during their time, world-famous men. My maternal grandfather, Morton Neipp, ran the democratic party in the state of Ohio, helped prosecute the mob out of my hometown of Toledo, and was personal friends with the top politicos of his day, including LBJ, RFK and Hubert Humphrey. In Toledo he was particularly well-known, and I became accustomed to multiple people coming up and shaking his hand when he would take me out to lunch. To this day I own an eclectic collection of trinkets from those relationships of his, such as whiskey glasses bearing the U.S. presidential seal, cuff links bearing the U.S. vice presidential seal, and countless newspaper clippings and stories about his exploits. Yet, according to Google, a search for "Morton Neipp" returns a scant 28 records. 28!

By contrast is my paternal grandfather, Siegfried Knemeyer. Even more internationally famous in his day, Siegfried invented the first-ever handheld flight computer and was known as the "Stargazer" in the German Luftwaffe due to his visionary and creative solutions to aeronautical challenges. By the end of World War 2 he ran the entire RLM (Reich Air Ministry) and was overseeing the work of Wernher Von Braun, who went on to architect the U.S. space program. After the war he was brought over to the United States where he helped pioneer next-generation airplane cockpit design, following his philosophy of designing for the ease and usability of the pilot. He was legitimately the finest mind in his field, a field that was arguably the most technologically and advanced transportation industry of the 20th century. He knew Charles Lindbergh and many of the other aviation luminaries of his day. Today, there exist 85 records for "Siegfried Knemeyer" on Google. 85!

These are only two examples, the examples that I am most personally familiar with and cognizant of. They made their names between the 1930s and 1960s. And today they are almost forgotten. Unless I or someone else who cares enough (read: family member) gets around to memorialize either of these men on Wikipedia or some other digital source(s) that would extend their essence, they are already close to being forgotten. If they had lived just one generation later, they would be remembered in many thousands of instances. They simply missed the digital cliff.

2. I'm something of an information junkie, and a bit of a historian. So with the things I'm inteterested in, I tend to poke around and look under the hood and try to get as much information as I can. Two examples of this are with movies and music. For example, when I'm watching a movie, I will simultaneously research the actors, director, and all of the various leads that spring from them on resources like imdb.com and Wikipedia. And the juxtaposition between the contemporary versus the past is significant. Jon-Erik Hexum, an actor who died in an on-set accident in 1984, does not even have a picture on IMDB despite being one of the hottest actors around at the time of his premature death. Meanwhile, a perfectly fine but ultimately unimportant actress like Ileana Douglas has 64 pictures in the system. Hexum simply missed the digital age, and the relative decay of his being and memory are greatly accelerated because of it.

Every day, things are being forgotten. At greatest risk now from a movie or music perspective would be pre-World War 2 artifacts, those that clearly pre-dated digital technology and which are not necessarily historically important enough to be remembered beyond those who actually experienced them. As each older person dies or ceases to remember, that serves as the end of those artifacts. Other than the synthesis of new things that were built on their being, they have completely ceased to exist. Digital technology might be slowing this process, particularly in years ahead when normally it would be only within memories or long-lost books that these things still exist. But now, today, there is this bizarre chasm between the reams of information being collected on the mundane and un-notable of today, even as things of (relative recent) past value and importance vanish.

3. I continue to get amazing, insightful emails from people who used to know my father many years ago and learned recently that he passed away, in many cases discovering this only through my website. For those past generations, those who haven't en masse signed up for Facebook/LinkedIn/MySpace and other types of online services, they are unlikely to find or connect with one another in life. There is not institutionalized behaviour, pattern, expectation and method from which to find and communicate with each other. Whereas it would be impossible for me to imagine not being a couple of clicks away from contacting anyone from my past, for older generations those same, seamless channels don't exist. They are left to the traditional and seemingly quaint "method" of maybe or maybe not reconnecting with old friends, maybe or maybe not learning that old friends have passed away. In observing this happen with my father's peer group in the wake of his death, I'm struck by the poignancy and sadness of this. If only I could help turn back time and give my father one last chance to meet those people again, to reminisce one last time, to share what they mutually meant to one another. But time marches on. IUt will never happen. If nothning else, please learn from my lack of opportunity and encourage your own parents to seek out and re-connect with those that matter to them!

As I learned some 12 years ago now in graduate school, decay and disappearance is the eventual destiny of everyone and everything. But especially in these examples, in things that are still nearly removed, and intensely personal, and directly relevant to not just our memories but our lives today, the disappearance and obsolescence certainly matters. Again in the wake of my father's death, and as I am now a middle-aged adult who is trying to understand their cosmic place in the long now, I find myself railing against the boundaries of time. What I wouldn't give to get one evening with Morton, or one evening with Siegfried. The questions I have for them as an adult, as a fully formed person who wants to better understand the seeds from which I spawned, really matter and would provide me with insight and tools completely incommensurate with the relatively brief time being spent with those people would require. To see their facial expressions! Hear their voice inflection! To understand what motivated them, and who and what they became! Similarly, I wonder who was my great great great grandfather was? What could I learn from him? How could I bend time to have that conversation?

Sadly, for me, these channels and paths will likely never exist. But perhaps through these newfangled digital technologies I can leave some record or capturing of myself that enlightens my far future offspring. Rather than chasing immortality for its own sake, I now appreciate the importance of communication and continuity through generations, and fully understand the power and significance that a detailed record of previous generations can shine onto and into those that follow. How and if I am able to eventually capitalize on that remains to be seen, and I can only hope that my making the time and taking the action precedes my death and the immediate and eventual decay that will necessarily follow, until I am also, finally, forgotten by history.

A simple take on global warming

Thu, 03 Apr 2008 15:28:49 CST

Disclaimer and background: I'm no expert. I pay attention, I listen, I think. I'm pretty well convinced that we're headed toward a crash course with global warming in a highly deliterious way to our and other species, but I don't know if that is 5 or 50 or 500 years away. I understand the idea of "carbon footprint" and have a clumsy idea of how the relationship between carbon and global warming works.

However, I also think the whole thing is more complicated than it needs to be. And - importantly - I also do not see how even the most aggressive reductions and behaviour changes coming from mainstream sources can even begin to be adequate to turn around what seems to be a runaway train (good bye, size of Connecticut ice shelf in Antarctica this week!).

So, lets forget carbon for a second. Lets try and think about and understand global warming at the most basic level.

Global WARMING. The temperature of the planet is rising. Things are getting warmer. Or hotter. Why? Carbon and other gasses? Sure. But could it be simpler than that?

One thing I've become acutely aware of is that, all of the methods I am aware of to generate power do so via the generation of HEAT. When I've been using my laptop for a while, it gets very HOT. When I get out of my car after driving around, the hood of it is HOT. When I touch the TV after it has been on a while, it is HOT. The various power plants that generate energy - such as coal - are BURNING. They are HOT. Looking across all of our modern, digital lives, what seems to be a constant in the generation of power for all of the different things that we use, all of that requires or results in HEAT. Billions and billions and billions of things that are quickly becoming necessary in our daily digital lives, each and every one requires power and generates HEAT. As we are all personally aware, if you light a fire in a warm the temperature in that room gets HOTTER.

Unless things completely crash, this isn't going to change. As far as I know, there are not power generation methods that require or generate COOL. Certainly, if there are, they are not in widespread use. We're going to have more and more things in the world that are HEAT-based.

Thinking about this in the most basic way, is there any logical way that simply reducing the "carbon" or reducing the "heat" across these things is going to reverse global warming? There are more people on the Earth every day, more objects per person, more requirements of power and generation of HEAT. How in the frack is it believable that - if we stipulate the global warming problem is as popular science is telling us it is - that simply more efficient or less polluting power sources will have the efficacy to REVERSE the problem? Doesn't it need to be greater than that? Don't we need to REVERSE what we're doing?

How will polar icecaps GROW or RETURN? It will require MORE COOL not just LESS HEAT. But as far as I can tell, there is not any agenda, plan or vision to create MORE COOL. Again, as far as I know, there is no technology in place that could reasonably provide MORE COOL. So how can global warming possibly be stopped or even reversed? Based on what people in power are saying, and just evaluating all of the HEAT GENERATING DEVICES we are surrounded with in our daily lives, it seems impossible.

Taking my limited knowledge and understanding to its logical conclusion, these would seem to be the only possible methods to REVERSE global warming at this point:

1. Creation/implementation of new power generation technologies that cool the world as opposed to heat it up. Can my laptop get COOLER as it runs? Can my car engine eminate COOLNESS as it runs? Unless at least some power generation methods become COOL (not just less hot) I don't see how things can actually be REVERSED.

2. The end of our industrialized world. While we may have come too far to completely turn back the clock and become a world in some sort of pre-industrial state, we may need to just let go of some large percentage of our modern, heat-making infrastructure. Computers? Planes? Cars? Mass production? Which or where of these things will need to be completely jettisoned in order to turn global WARMING into global COOLING? It would superficially seem to require a massive degree of change, to the point where our world and what makes it up is almost unrecognizable from the digital world we are so deeply ensconced in. It is hard to imagine our reaching the point of having massive agreement and implementation of such an agenda.

3. Massive planned population reductions. This actually seems like the most likely and viable - albeit chilling - conclusion, given the path we're on. Since there are so many vested financial reasons for people continuing our massive global power gobbling, the only way for things to not just reduce but reverse is to massively, massively reduce the number of people contributing to the problem. The options or methods here - literal genocide in some manifestation - are ugly indeed. But it seems highly likely that, at some point, a government or ruling body is going to be faced with the reality that if the world population does not immediately and dramatically reduce it will result in a living environment that eventually results in there not being anybody. I'd hate to be the person making that decision, and engineering that outcome, but it would also seem logical that one or more governments might be, ever so quietly, immunizing the babies of today against the biological Hell of tomorrow, a biological Hell that they might already realize they need to administer, for the simple matter of saving the entire species.

I don't know about you, but I'm pretty demoralized and feeling powerless around this global warming stuff. The news just never seems to be good, and we certainly don't appear to be on any kind of a path towards actually stopping and reversing things. I've reached the point of hoping that the oil lobby conservatives are correct, and the science and conclusions around global warming are just wrong. After all, if they're not wrong, what hope do we truly have?!

American Airlines: a customer service black hole

Thu, 03 Apr 2008 14:49:40 CST

I'm in the midst of a nasty flu, the worst illness that I can remember having as an adult. I began feeling ill last Tuesday, tried to fight thru it because of some things that I needed to take care of, before finally becoming incapacitated on Thursday. I felt like warm death through Sunday, and since Monday have felt sick but no longer in bad pain and constant discomfort. All of this happened while I was on a blended business and personal trip back home to Ohio.

On that Saturday, while still firmly in the worst of it, I was scheduled to fly back to California. Realizing my unfitness to fly I called American Airlines to see what my options were to fly on a later day. They did have some openings on other flights Sunday or Monday but would require a whopping $980 to change my ticket, $880 for the fare difference and $100 for the change fee. This was a fee I could not afford, so I asked if they had a policy to let people who were sick change flights at an affordable price point. After all, it was certainly not in American's best interest for me to be flying, coughing loudly, and potentially getting people seated around me sick. He checked with his supervisor, told me no, and told me to have a nice day. If only!

So, I was relegated to flying, despite my illness. While I accepted this fate, I decided that I would try talking to as many ticketing agents and American representatives as possible at the airport. Certainly, among them would be an empathetic and thoughtful customer-centric person who would listen intently and "communicate up" the chain about the need for a sensible policy that enables extremely sick people to avoid flying. If only!

I told my story and explained my thinking on this to:

- Two ticketing agents in Detroit
- The person manning the gate in Detroit
- Two people manning the gate in Chicago
- One customer service person in Chicago

Not one single person seemed empathetic to my situation. Not one single person showed initiative toward communicating my situation to a supervisor or beyond. In general, the tone and approach these "customer service" people took with me was dismissive. I was an annoyance. Despite being very sanguine and not complaining about my situation, it was clear that all of these people wanted me to shut up and let them get back to their tasks. To a person, every single one of them said, "We don't have a policy for that, you should call the 1-800 number if you want to do something about it."

Hmm. Call a 1-800 number. I'm dealing with a phalanx of customer-facing people who I can look at and speak with face-to-face, yet if I want to have a channel that could lead to change I need to call a 1-800 number which - from my direct experience - begins a dizzying process of talking to computer menus and struggling to speak with a human within a system designed to keep you away from speaking with a human. For shame, American, for shame.

The most shocking thing of all was the total disinterest from ALL of American's customer-facing personnel. Not a single one made me feel like they cared a whit for the fact I was suffering through a brutal travel day while quite ill. I was an annoyance they wanted to shut up and get out of their way. I couldn't help but think to myself, "I bet JetBlue wouldn't treat me this way!" Indeed, the American Airlines brand is now cemented into my head as an old, out-of-touch company that employs tired, unempathetic and poorly educated front-line foot soldiers. While much of airplane travel is about having the right connections and a palatable price, when possible I am going to eschew American for a friendlier travel partner.

And to all of the people who I tried to talk to, with a smile on my face, absolutely no axe to grind, and just trying to find a way that the airline could help encourage people not to fly while sick and thus not make the people around them sick as a result, for all of you who were annoyed by me and just tried to anxiously funnel me to an ungodly 1-800 number to get some actual satisfaction, for shame. Look in the mirror and see what you've become. Do you really want to be the kind of person who is dismissive to a right-minded customer who's trying to make change for the greater good? Your mother would be ashamed of your mindless, thoughtless, mechanical way of "handling" me. I hope you find your heart again, and soon.

Rosenfeld Media's first publications

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 11:15:04 CST

One of the things I'm currently involved with is the Advisory Board for Rosenfeld Media, Lou Rosenfeld's user experience publishing company. Besides giving me another opportunity to work on something with Lou, which is always a good thing, I'm working on the AB with a group of really smart people. So it goes that, after a couple years of preparation and internal growth, the first books are being published and are now available: Indi Young's "Mental Models" was released about six weeks ago, and Luke Wroblewski's "Web Form Design" is set to hit the streets in about four weeks. Wow, these books are really living up to the promise of Lou's vision, back when this thing got started!

One of the things I like best about RM books is the book design. The size, length and presentation feature a lot of good design decisions that make the books easy and enjoyable to read. Also, being focused on specific and practically applicable topics, the books not only teach readers high-level concepts and principles but inculcate useful best practices. The design extends beyond the print version to the PDFs as well which are designed differently and optimized for use on the screen.

While Indi is very bright and the topic of mental models an important and interesting one, this book was less exciting for me because it seemed in places like an extended advertisement for Adaptive Path, the self-promotionally obsessed web design consultancy that Indi helped found some years ago. I do recommend the book anyway, as there is not much book length information on mental models.

On the other hand, Luke's book is sure to be a winner. While the topic of web form design might superficially seem narrow or simple, forms typically represent the critical point of decision for users, when they decide to give you their information or not, when they decide to join or not, and - most critically - where they decide to buy or not. Luke's forms experience spans his time at dot.com powerhouses like Yahoo! and eBay, as well as the dozens of experiences he has had as an independent consultant. Additionally, Luke is one of the most generous and even-handed thought leaders in our space today, who not only publishes his own things but points to and promotes the work of others without bias or prejudice. This book is sure to capitalize on those characteristics.

So, rejoice! Rosenfeld Media books are now officially hitting the streets and prove to be an exceptional tool and value for people in the user experience industry. Go to the site, sign up to get on the mailing list, and help support this great, new publisher trying to produce focused and valuable content for our community.

The virtue of this website

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 17:30:59 CST

Despite the fact that I do not regularly post here anymore, this website continues to be an amazingly effective mechanism for creating new relationships, and for forging closer relationships with people new and old. Over the past few years I've met multiple "long lost" first cousins, people who are interested in archival information about my grandfather, new friends, new clients, and more. Additionally, a surprisingly large percentage of new people I meet now have visited this site and have kind/thoughtful/empathetic things to say about my father's death and my eulogizing of him.

This site - which was originally on another domain and has content that precedes the archives of what you read here - was toward the front end of the personal blogging trend and preceded the rise of MySpace and later Friendster. While I don't think I would have chosen those outlets for my thoughts and sharing instead of this one if they had been available, I do wonder if those formats would have enabled me to share in the same way as I have here. I tend not to think so. The structure and intentional "social network" nature of those applications and the communities that have sprung up around them do not really lend themselves to deep, introspective sharing. The kind of long, written communication that I do here on the very top level is buried beneath layers of menu options and chrome, hard-to-access at best and largely ignored at worst.

As time has passed and I have changed, neither the design or structure of this site suits who I am or what I'd really like to accomplish here. And I suppose that contributes to my malaise with regard to writing. However, it remains an outlet where I can write and publish with both ease and impunity, and serves as an archive of things that still seem meaningful or important - at least to some people. I feel really blessed for the new relationships this site has facilitated, and serves as a living reminder of why it is important to continue. I suspect the best of what I have to do here is still to come, but it remains unclear what and when exactly that might be.

An answer to the fella who emailed me about starting a new company

Fri, 30 Nov 2007 17:15:40 CST

Thanks to my upwards of 20,000 piece of Spam email each day, there are ostensibly failures in my personal email process. So it goes that an email from a gainfully employed person recently asking me questions about starting his own company vanished from my email sometime after I read it but before I responded to it. And I can't find it in my Trash, my Junk, my server-side Spam filters...it just appears to be vapor. So, to the best of my memory of the questions asked, here is my answer. I hope you get it. Feel free to email me again at the same email address if I can help you further.

When you are currently employed but thinking about or even working on a new product of your own, ownership of that product can be sticky. First off, most major corporations make new employees sign contracts upon their hire which would most likely, in a court of law, give that employer rights or ownership over products, companies or other creations that the employee created while still under employment. While this is likely meaningless or not even applicable if, for instance, you are working as an engineer at a software company and are opening up a Starbucks franchise on the side, in cases where there is overlap, adjacency or even similarity between the original employer and the new venture is a legal minefield waiting to happen. So, if you have or even may have signed anything around intellectual property, non-compete, or anything else that is even remotely similar, be very careful.

The other much more common and squishy space is when you have not signed anything around IP or competition but you develop a company or product that overlaps, is adjacent or similar to what your employer does. Especially if you are successful or the idea is really sound, there is the possibility that they might come knocking on your door. Now, I am not an attorney or an expert on these matters by any means, but I have some experience just outside of these situations happening with other people and they can be really ugly. Even if your previous employer does not "win", the very challenge and the legal gymnastics that go with it can be enough to potentially derail what you are trying to do.

That is all a long way of saying: if you want to do your own thing, leave your current employer before developing the ideas. Its just safer. In the event that you can't (or won't, for some reason) make a clean transition, just keep asking yourself questions like: "If my boss found out about this, would they see it as a conflict of interest? If someone else in the corporation found out about my idea, would they see it as a conflict of interest?" If you find yourself answering yes to any of these questions, you are taking a chance that might not be worth taking.

Is this perspective a little conservative? Sure, I guess. But its safe in a context where the downside is disastrous. And, its ethical. Which can never hurt.

Introducing: Involution Master Academy

Tue, 06 Nov 2007 18:23:56 CST

I'm pleased to announce my most recent project: Involution Master Academy, an educational program for mid-career software professionals who take their career seriously. For Fall 2007 we are offering a pilot group of three courses, taught by some of the best-known people in their areas of expertise.

My business partner, Andrei Herasimchuk, is teaching a one-day Product Architecture Symposium; Steve Portigal is teaching a one-night-a-week-for-six-weeks course on Design Research Methods; Luke Wroblewski and Tom Chi are teaching a one-day course on Influencing Strategy by Design. Needless to say, we are very excited about this teaching line-up.

The best thing about these classes? Each class is capped out at a maximum nine students for every one instructor. That is literally unprecedented in our industry: courses that engage the students so deeply with a top thought leader. The focus is on acquiring real, practical skills, not just learning principles and hearing aspirational speeches. Whereas people who attend the myriad conferences out there might come away with insight, awareness, and enthusiasm, our approach lets participants roll up their sleeves over a relatively long period of time in a tiny class and working side-by-side with their very senior instructors. It is a unique approach to post-secondary education, and one that firmly values quality of education and training over maximizing profits.

This is only the beginning for Involution Master Academy. Additional courses will be offered next year, eventually building to a full curriculum of expert knowledge and skills for software professionals. But this is an outstanding start, and these are courses that people who need to develop skills in any of these areas will seriously benefit from. Check it out, get signed up and, as always, let me know if you have any questions!

A Broken Experience: when progressive thinking runs amok

Wed, 12 Sep 2007 15:08:49 CST

Product by product, Yahoo! is slowly losing my business.

Ever since the so-called "Ajax" phenomenon, Yahoo! has been a leader in the software industry of trying to weave JavaScript magic. Leveraging their legions of talented software professionals, the company redesigns one product after another, in most cases heavily using JavaScript and various fancy tools and design decisions in order to provide a superior experience.

While well-intentioned, in reality it is a case of letting theory and big thinking grind the practical user experience into oblivion.

The latest example is what was formerly one of my most-used products on the Internet, Yahoo! Local. On at least a weekly basis I would call up Local and use it to find some sort of business in the San Jose area. Being relatively new to the SF Bay area, I do not know where the best restaurants are, or where to get particular supplies or tools that I might need from time-to-time. So, I hit Yahoo! Local and quickly and easily found what I was looking for. It wasn't a perfect product, and I certainly had suggestions to make it better, but it worked well. And, more importantly to Yahoo!, I kept coming back to use it.

Please note the past tense; Yahoo! has lost my business.

Superficially, the redesign of Local looks a lot better. It is more visually appealing and has corrected some information problems with the old version. But where Yahoo! jumped the tracks is in their attempt to improve usability by making the map with plotted results in the right column "move" as you scroll up and down the page. While a good idea IN THEORY, in practice it is completely broken. When I use web pages, I hold down my left mouse button while scrolling the screen up and down. Now, thanks to the fancy-dancy JavaScript, my browser does not scroll normally when I do this. It alternately does not move up-and-down at all or "jerks" up-and-down in a very unappealing way. For the way I use my web browser, this is entirely unusable.

This is becoming de rigeur at Yahoo!. When they updated their mail client a year or two ago - again going with a theoretically better, JavaScript-as-steroids heavyweight redesign - the performance was even worse. I simply stopped using Y! Mail until I eventually learned there was an option to go back to Classic and did so post haste. They're just lucky I didn't catch the gmail bug in between.

And don't rationalize this as my being a Luddite or not comfortable with rich interfaces: my company designs software products, and we frequently use very rich interfaces. But we only do so if the performance of the final product measures up to the theoretical benefit of the idea. It is sad that a company as large as Yahoo!, which values the user experience and invest sosososososo much money in myriad UX professionals across the organization - continues to make these fundamental mistakes and release products that are clunkers. The applied technology in the context of my browser (Firefox for Mac, latest version) simply does not provide a good user experience. And the customers are left to suffer for it.

But not me. I'll bet that Google has a comparable product that will eliminate my need for Y! Local. I'm gonna go check it out right now...

Facebook Follies

Thu, 23 Aug 2007 16:13:50 CST

I'm a passive user of Facebook, which is to say that I have an account, have spent 10 minutes or so filling out profile info, but otherwise only use it to accept Friend requests that other people make of me. So it was today that, for whatever reason, I ended up on my main Facebook page and gave it a quick scan.

It was the typical stuff that I'm not terribly interested in: Twitter-level short blurbs about what people are doing on Facebook. Only this time, I did a double take. Here is the content within my News Feed, with names changed to protect the innocent:

***
Jane Doe added the Define Me application.

John Smith joined the group Plazes.

Jane Doe added the Group Recipes application.

John Smith joined the group NTEN: The Nonprofit Technology Network

John Smith and Bob Jones are now friends.

John Smith updated his profile. He is now looking for random play and whatever I can get.

John Smith is now married.

Jane Doe added the Hangouts application.

John Smith and Alex Adams are now friends.
***

So, which of these things is not like the other?! Of course, it is the fact that John Smith got married. Yet, using the exact same fonts and emphasis, differing only in the specific, tiny 16x16 icon similar to all of the other "News" items, John Smith being married is buried amidst a pile of crap.

This is Big Real-Life News! John Smith is only a very casual acquaintance but - my goodness - the fact that he is now married is perhaps - and this is my literal estimate of relative importance - 5,000,000 times more important than any other item on this interminable list of who had made new friends on Facebook or what Facebook application my various friends are using.

Please, Facebook, give me some information hierarchy! Give me a fighting chance to realize that someone got married, amidst the endless droning of completely irrelevant announcements and (non-)events.

In the meantime, I'm going to congratulate my friend. He's married! How exciting!

Withdrawal

Sun, 01 Jul 2007 15:25:45 CST

My sons visited recently, spending three straight weeks here in California with Fran and I. It was an amazing experience: this was the longest consecutively that we've been together since I moved out of their house back in 1999. I only had them for weekends when I lived on my own in Ohio, and the longest trip they've previously taken to visit me since I moved away was less than two weeks. So this was a very special - and new - experience.

Of course, we did many of the requisite California things. Both boys absolutely love the beach so we spent a good chunk of two of our weekends together hitting the sand and surf. On one of the trips, Brandon and Fran took a surfing lesson which they both really enjoyed. Another one of their favourite things to do out here is eat ethnic food: at home, they get a steady diet of standard American cuisine, punctuated by such unusual extravagances as hamburger or chicken. Yet, they have a great affinity for various ethnic cuisines and we take the opportunity to feed them as many different things as we are able, since they get little-to-none of this back home. Their favourite is Indian.

We also spent a lot of time playing different games together, ranging from Ticket to Ride (my favourite that we play together) to Risk to a cool Pirates game using constructible ships to Alibi and beyond. This was perhaps what I enjoyed most as it set a very family-oriented rhythm to our activities: I would come home, prepare dinner (which we would all eat together) and then move into playing games. Or taking a walk, or watching movies. But, regardless of what we were doing, we were operating as a unit. This is a dramatic departure from my typical solitary evenings at home and was really quite fulfilling, even moreso because it was centered around my beautiful sons.

So it was a lovely three weeks, but now it is over. Although my being sososo busy at work is keeping me somewhat distracted, I'm nonetheless feeling withdrawal pangs due to their absence. I'm a family kind of guy, and returning to the status quo sans my sons is really tough. Still, our time together was excellent and rather than dwell on the lack I'm going to cherish what we had, while ostensibly anticipating the next time.

Time and change

Tue, 08 May 2007 00:38:19 CST

In recent weeks I've had neither the interest nor energy to do any writing beyond what is absolutely necessary in a professional context. And its a shame, for I'm in a really lovely little professional place: working with clients and co-workers that I enjoy, designing or directing some really interesting products, and immersed in the exciting process of building out and furnishing our sweet new digs. Tonight, finishing up a very full and somewhat intense day that included: interviewing a design candidate, meeting with a client, doing some design, teleconferencing with a prospect, dozens of emails going in both directions and many various business-management-ish activities, I put in a solid 11 hour day and feel absolutely energized by the fun of it all. And still, I'm not compelled to write about any of it.

On the other hand, what writing I have done recently has been largely personal in nature. And such is the impetus for dusting off the keyboard and doing a little writing right now.

My mother sent pictures she took of my sons over the last few weeks via email tonight. And, even though they just visited about four weeks ago, seeing these pictures was a really moving experience. Viewing them through the camera's eye, my little boys have become little emerging men! The roundness and softness of childhood is suddenly replaced with the angles and depth that portend impending adulthood. While I can see the children they recently were, I can now concretely anticipate the men they are to become. And it is so stirring to see! While each day I actively wish they were closer, it is moments like this where it is palatable, where the thousands of miles and millions of moments of potential shared experience that is being missed cuts with the perfect edge that can only come from impossibly difficult life decisions. Going through the pictures one at a time, seeing not only the change in each of them but also seeing the rest of us - myself, my father, my mother, their mother - in their faces and postures is a stirring reminder of the temporality of our individual existence, and that our essence lies only in the shared reality of those who came before us and the ones we leave behind.

Then, tonight I watched Before Sunset, the 2004 sequel to the beautiful 1995 movie Before Sunrise. Wow, not only was it the best movie I've seen in a long time (80 straight minutes of good-to-excellent dialog: YES!), I was really able to resonate with a lot of what the protagonists had gone through in their 20s and early 30s, and the way they contrasted their present self with the past. So not only was it a really skillful work of art (filmed in only 15 days and with a miniscule budget), but it touched me in a profound way that begs further introspection. If you haven't seen it, first rent Before Sunrise and then check out Before Sunset. Definitely worth the ~3 hours for anyone who now or once had the heart of a passionate romantic.

While on the surface there is a melancholy to my feelings and the things that I'm sharing lately, it is really more of what Steve Martin would call emotional erectness: I'm having somewhat frequent moments of being clearly in touch with my emotional center, a center that is usually buried under layers of compliance, self-protection and routine. The rubbing that ensues between these moments and the typical might express as melancholy, but I think its actually some kind of very gradual, important - if uncomfortable - growth.

Patterns and dreams

Sun, 01 Apr 2007 13:07:21 CST

Lately my dreams have been unusually sharp and - at least the ones I can remember - consistently involve the same two elements:

1. Poker. As my friends know, poker has been one of my preferred leisure activities over the last four or five years. Recently, I haven't been playing much as I ran through a rough patch and burnt through my assigned bankroll. But, in my dreams, I always seem to be playing in poker tournaments (which is unusual, because I am almost exclusively a cash game player). The dreams are less about the mechanics of playing hands and more about situations; for example, in one dream I was one of the big leaders in a tournament when it ended for the day. The next day, before the action started, I met a new friend and was hanging out with them. When I finally got to the table, almost all of my chips had been "blinded off" and I panickedly tried to make something happen and fight my way back - unsuccessfully. This is just one example, with no particular thread or theme between them. But in each case they are dealing with situations that are unusual or not even possible in the ways and context that I typically play poker.

2. The house I grew up in. My dreaming self spends a lot of time in our old home, lately. And again, the contexts are very different from reality. Last night my dream involved bathing in the walk-in closet in the guest bedroom (?), and the dream also featured actress Mary McDonnell. I must also be channeling Battlestar Galactica for some reason!

I'm not coalescing any particular deeper meaning or significance from these things but wanted to write them down, for my own institutional memory as much as for sharing.

Musing on inevitabilities and unanswerable questions

Sun, 01 Apr 2007 04:35:02 CST

I go through most of my life in what I can only term a sleepwalking emotional state. This is a coping mechanism. My emotional receptors are naturally hyperactive: I both take in too much of what is happening around me, and I internally contextualize the many inputs around Big and Difficult Questions that are central to my emotional core. After struggling to function this way I learned at a fairly young age how to shut these receptors off, and now I adopt a variety of routines to keep them dormant. One consequence of this compensatory behaviour is that my typically active emotional receptors are greatly subdued, to such a degree that - in the uncommon times they are turned back on - it makes me feel like a completely different person and can be rather overwhelming. This is not a complaint so much as a statement of fact: turning them off enables me to function and succeed in society and the constraints of day-to-day reality, while perhaps at the expense of the parts inside that I consider most special.

I share this context so that my questions and lamentations from tonight will make more sense, as it simultaneously reflects both the way I naturally process and behave emotionally, and something that - over the past 20 years or so - I've conditioned out of my life to the point that they only get turned back on once every couple or few years.

So it was that we were watching Donnie Darko tonight. I'm not sure what perfect storm of the life-and-death complexities/time traveling/1980s setting and culture of the story created this moment, but the experience of watching much of the movie ripped open my many dormant emotional receptors and took me on a haunting roller coaster of introspection worthy of my own personal wailing wall. In total, the things that danced in my head represented both inevitabilities and unanswerable questions, each bitingly poignant and collectively bathing me in sorrow. Here are a few of the channels that opened up in my mind, in no particular order:

* I was transported into the future, and able to see myself in a moment after my mother has long since passed away, grasping into my past toward the people and generations that preceded me, with nothing tangible left outside the boundaries of my mind to hold on to. That this will happen is an inevitability (excepting my premature death), and tonight I had the bittersweet chance to encounter myself in this state many years before it occurs.

* It became stunningly clear that the center of culture that I grew up with - the artifacts of my life - are now part of the past. For people like me - roughly between 27 and 40 years of age - there is a shared culture that we grew up with and formed our collective central imprint. Whether it be the various scraps from the 1980s that form the technicolour dreamcoat of my youth or the larger and more precisely memorable pieces of the 1990s that underpinned my young adulthood and cemented the core of who I will forever be, to the world as some objective whole these are now relics. It is young generations and completely different people for whom today is their dreamcoat and tomorrow is their core foundation. Mine, to the objective whole, is the past. Like the countless people who've existed before me, what constitutes my center is - perhaps slowly - decaying into oblivion. And while realizing this might pain me, more profound is the simple truth that this is the unalterable way of the world.

* If I have more children, how will their experience of the world be different from that of my current sons, given that my future children will not only not meet and have exposure to my father, but also because they will not have any context of him and thus lack that multi-generational bond and connection that we could be collectively sharing?

* Thinking about those who came before me, I lingered on the fact that I never got to know my grandparents as adults. My paternal grandparents were both passed before I was 10; my maternal grandparents were both passed before I was 24. I know enough about all of them anecdotely to imagine the potential that knowing them as a fully formed adult could have had. I particularly wish that I could have spent time with my maternal grandfather, who had a free spirit and sense of play that I did not have the benefit of learning from. It also would have been nice to learn professionally from my paternal grandfather, of whom I've been told I am the closest facsimile of. But that is not the way of the world. People die - arbitrarily, as it relates to those around them - and it is a given that we will have appropriate time with some and not with others. But I feel quite certain that I would have benefitted from those connections.

* I spent a great deal of time wondering how the death of my father's father affected him. They were estranged for much of Dad's adult life, but at the very end Siegfried explicitly called for Dad in some effort to make peace. I know very little about that encounter or the aftermath but - regardless of the facts - how was Dad impacted by his father's passing? Emotionally, spiritually...what did he think? Feel? What closure did he reach, and how?

* How close will I be able to get with my current and future children as they become adults? How intertwined might our lives become, and how I can best prepare myself to pass down to them as much of myself that is worthwhile as possible? What can I do to create a foundation that enriches them as much as possible?

I was always moved by the morosely simple Pink Floyd lyric, "I'm older, shorter of breath, and one day closer to death." It used to move me for the way it metaphorically framed death; now, when I think about it, my focus is not on the end point (death) but on the process (shorter of breath). In life, it is almost as if - each day - our center moves more into our past. The fabric that makes us who we are and defines us marches farther into the shadows as the life and times of the new receive their time in the cosmic sun. And the sorrow comes not from the death itself but from the constant and increasing loss, as the people, memories, culture, artifacts and realities that make up each of us fade closer and closer to oblivion. Even as we live, the light of our respective lives dims. Thus, it is not in death - of which we are presumably unaware once it occurs - that the sorrow lies, but rather in the process of eventually fading away. In a moment, I can see the sensibility of older people increasingly introspecting and being reminiscent, as they are forced to deal with the simultaneous process of seeing a new and different world replace the core of what made up their reality, even while being left with nothing but memories of many of the people who shaped and were a part of them.

Tonight, I'm simply overwhelmed. I cried, but would have benefitted from crying deeper, and longer. It is so infrequent these days that I open the receptors and experience my natural emotional self. Doing so thus becomes my personal equivalent of trying to ride a really angry bull at a rodeo. The difference being that the pain I feel upon impact is, while jolting, cathartic. The various threads that ran tonight represent Big and Difficult Things, but I've long ago accepted that I can neither control or figure out the entire world. Instead, I close the receptors and hibernate. Sleepwalking is not an altogether bad thing, as I prepare to do so once again.

Big News #3: Involution buys a building

Tue, 27 Mar 2007 18:29:22 CST

Today the closing papers were finalized and we received the keys on a new building now owned by my company, Involution Studios: a 3,600 square foot space in Sunnyvale, California. Located at 1294 Kifer Road, we're right in the heart of Silicon Valley and easily accessible by highway or CalTrain. Buying a building is an enormous step in the evolution of a small business, and the fact that we're in the position to do so after less than three years in business is a testament to the exceptional work done by our entire team.

Our next step is to build out the space, a process that looks like it is going to take about six weeks to complete. But once it's finished we're going to have one of the most pimped-out spaces for digital product design around. The most important part of this move for us was a determination to provide an outstanding work environment that our team looks forward to coming into every day, maximizing not only our collective productivity but also our individual happiness and lifestyle. Once it's all complete I will share pictures (likely via Flickr) and there might even be a party.

Go, Invo, Go!!!

Lessons from Spivot #2: Quality over Quantity

Thu, 15 Mar 2007 12:25:22 CST

This is the second in an ongoing series of lessons that I learn as part of the executive team of a consumer Internet product, Spivot - an all-purpose media reader designed to connect people with the media content they want, when and in the way they want it. While I have designed, overseen or managed the design of many products in my career, this is the first time that I've been the business owner of a product (along with my partners, of course) and thus am learning a lot of lessons from this new CEO perspective. And I'm going to share these lessons with you!

Quality over Quantity
This is another topic that looks MUCH different from the ownership side than the service provider side. As a service provider, I am very well disciplined in helping clients control scope: start with a smaller product that works well, then systematically expand features once you have a tight and stable working version out in the market. It just makes sense, and we've had some excellent successes with our services company Involution Studios, counseling and guiding clients in this way. And yet, now that I'm serving as an owner as opposed to a consultant, this little bit of logic did not seem so cut-and-dried.

Early on in our product development process we envisioned publicly releasing Spivot in November 2006, roughly three months before we eventually launched it. This date was pushed back repeatedly, both because we wanted to get more features into Spivot, and because we wanted to get what we had working as well as possible. There were lots of different decision trees in this process, both small and large, and certainly a lot of the reasons why we decided to wait were valid.

Yet, in retrospect, I'm struck by two main things:

1. We should have focused on a simpler, less feature-rich product, gotten it as stable and tight as possible, and launched it months ago. The only way for a product to ultimately succeed is to be out and available for people to use. I have a background in marketing and PR, and one of the reasons why I pushed at various times to hold off on launching was the old axiom that you only get one chance to make a first impression. I've been part of launching many products as well as broadcast marketing campaigns, and one of the earliest lessons I was taught was that the loose ends need to be tied together before you put it out there. While there are kernels of that perspective that remain true, the fact is that web software products are constantly evolving and changing. The great products of today were, for the most part, laughable when they first hit the World Wide Web. Web software products become great not in the process of their original creation and design, but in the iterative and ongoing redesigns based on the demands and insights of the market. Again, these are things that I already knew in a factual way but, when it came time to release our own product, this became inexplicably less clear. And while there were a variety of other factors and reasons besides my desire to make a storng first impression with Spivot that delayed our launch, the experience reinforces this very important lesson.

2. Good performance and usability should have - almost universally - taken precedence over features. One of Spivot's advantages right out-of-the-box is how feature-rich it is. However, there are still a couple of very fundamental problems that impair the user experience:

* We have not completely solved the repeating stories problem

* We have not perfected our algorithims for delivering better content

* We have not implemented a solution to limit Spivot displaying too many articles from the same source, which happens when large publications push out dozens of feeds, simultaneously

* We have not worked out all of the kinks in the user customization and personal feedreading workflow

Now that Spivot is live and we're getting lots of feedback, most of the criticisms have to do with these basic things. While some people are suggesting new features or functionality, most of what people are saying is, "Hey, its great, but this part of it doesn't really work." And even though we certainly prioritized product quality and have done a lot of things right where that is concerned, at the same time there is a fairly long list of features that, if they weren't part of Spivot today, we would get few or no complaints. It would have been to our definite benefit to take a more critical view of the features we were adding and instead plowed our focus into very baseline issues of product quality.

Now, I'm not saying we've done a poor job with quality, because we haven't. I've gotten a lot of compliments on how Spivot works - especially from people involved in the product development of some of the better known search products on the market, who understand how difficult some of these challenges are. But in retrospect, thinking about what we could have done differently, I would have put even more focus into making what we had work as well as possible (at the expense of adding features) and I would have really pressed to get Spivot out to market as quickly as possible. These are two points that I will make even more emphatically to my clients, as well as bring to bear in my future experiences of developing our own products.

Lessons From Spivot #1: The Power of Users

Wed, 14 Mar 2007 00:24:52 CST

This is the first in what will be an ongoing series of lessons that I learn as part of the executive team of a consumer Internet product, Spivot - an all-purpose media reader designed to connect people with the media content they want, when and in the way they want it. While I have designed, overseen or managed the design of many products in my career, this is the first time that I've been the business owner of a product (along with my partners, of course) and thus am learning a lot of lessons from this new CEO perspective. And I'm going to share these lessons with you!

The Power of Users
I've long been an advocate of designing for users. I encourage investment in research and employ design processes that include regular and ongoing feedback from the actual people who will be using the ultimate product. Superficially, realizing how powerful and important users are would not seem to be a lesson that I need to learn. But, wow, I only knew part of the story.

We've been building Spivot for almost a year now. Our first working version of the product was up on an internal server as early as last summer, about nine months ago. We had a small group of testers using the site by the fall, and we took off the password protection on the site months ago now - albeit with strict instructions for people to keep quiet about it until we whipped it into better shape. Its been a long road.

During that time one of the things we did was seed Spivot with lots and lots of feeds. Most of this work fell on Andrei's shoulders, and it was a bitch. It took a loooong time to find some 2,000+ appropriate feeds into Spivot. Prior to our public launch last week, there were well under 3,000 feeds in Spivot. One week later, there are now over *8,000* feeds in Spivot. The 5,000+ new feeds were entered into the system by users, and most of them were entered in the first three days after we went public.

Wow. I can't tell you what a surprise this was. Perhaps if we had been Slashdotted, or written up on TechCrunch, we might have envisioned such rapid growth in system feeds. But to have the total more than triple in days - a process that, when we were doing it ourselves, was long and arduous and unrewarding - was just remarkable. We knew that users would be the primary mechanism for building up lots of feeds in the system, but this blew away even our most optimistic expectations. Over 5,000 feeds added to the system by new users numbering in the low hundreds...amazing. Truly amazing.

Another signifier of their impact is how quickly the article count in Spivot has grown. I can remember many months ago when, late one night, Ben sent an email celebrating that Spivot had over 1,000,000 articles tracked in it. When we launched, that total was around 1,500,000. By tomorrow - March 14, 2007 - we will have eclipsed 2,000,000 articles in the system. That's over a 1/3 increase in the course of a week! That is after Spivot has been collecting articles for about nine months. In just days, the rate of content in the system has gone up by an enormous percentage. Getting half a million articles took many weeks before, now it has taken just one. Thank you, early Spivot adopters.

So yes, we always knew users were important. In our services company, Involution Studios, we talk about the importance of users every day with clients, and we see it in the success of a seemlingly endless parade of Web 2.0 and/or social networking products. But once your very own product is out in the wild, once you've given people the power to contribute, the impact they can have on your business is truly exceptional. Very quickly, our development priorities have started to change as our users seed a much more robust content set than we expected. What a nice problem to have!

So the lesson here is that users are powerful. Not just for their input. Not just from a design planning perspective. Users are powerful for the impact they can have on our products, impact in unexpected but profoundly important ways. Much like industrial designers have learned that the physical products they create will ostensibly be used by people in ways and for purposes much different than what they envisioned when designing them, so in software will our users have impact on the product that is surprising and delightful which - ironically - are two of the adjectives that we strive to create for our users themselves. What an appropriate cycle!

Rosenfeld Media: a burgeoning user experience powerhouse

Wed, 14 Mar 2007 00:16:21 CST

One of the many things I'm involved with is Rosenfeld Media, the user experience publishing company founded by Lou Rosenfeld in 2005.

For those of you who don't know Lou, he's as good as it gets. Passionate, dedicated, smart and humble, he's a close professional colleague who I wish lived in my neck of the woods so we could hang out more and be closer friends. He is also a pioneer in the field of information architecture - the co-author of the seminal book on the subject - and a key influencer in the field of user experience. We serve together on the Board of UXnet and he has contributed meaningfully to a number of other industry non-profit organizations. It was an honor to be invited to serve on the Advisory Board of his company.

I'm writing about Lou and Rosenfeld Media now because the company is flirting with a tipping point (sorry, I know that's not a trendy term anymore) of exerting really important influence in the field of user experience. Consider the assets RM has already accumulated:

* Run by Lou, a capable, effective and high-profile leader

* Assisted by extremely bright and effective people, from Senior Development Editor Liz Danzico to Advisory Boards that include luminaries like David Weinberger, Jeffrey Zeldman and Marc Rettig
* Four upcoming book titles, each authored by highly compentent and experienced people, on key topics such as prototyping, card sorting and search analytics

* UX Zeitgeist, an information hub that captures trends and preferences among both the thought leadership and overall user experience community

The RM website has lots of feeds you can subscribe to, in order to keep up on the progress of the books and company. Additionally, Lou is employing a participatory content model where each book has its own website, encouraging everyone to contribute ideas, suggestions, feedback and more.

Rosenfeld Media is offering the right products at a time when many people are hugnry for this sort of practical, effective design information. Throw in the fact that the company is run by one of the all-around best people in the industry and you've got a rising star in user experience that promises to have significant impact over the trajectory of our discipline.

So head over to the Rosenfeld Media website and check it out!

Big News #1: Introducing Spivot

Sat, 10 Mar 2007 15:33:58 CST

I'm thrilled to share with you that my company, Involution Studios, has just released our first 100% internally built product: Spivot.

Spivot is an all-purpose media reader, providing a uniquely integrated media experience. It brings together the functionality of news aggregation (Google News), with social news (Digg), with the functionality of a feed aggregation tool (Bloglines). Our goal is to connect people with the media they want, when and how they want it. Here is a partial list of features:

* User-friendly layout and navigation. Looks and feels like a newspaper, not a feed reader. Yet, has more power, customization and easy access to raw sources than traditional feed readers.

* Full integration of mainstream and blog content. While you can choose to only look at traditional Sources or Blogs, our Topics bring them altogether in a nice, happy mix. Then, filtering from there - or even just zeroing in on one of our thousands of pre-programmed sources - is one-click easy.

* True multimedia content. So far we have only surfaced video and text integration, but it introduces a really interesting integrated media experience. Search for Tiger Woods and see what happens. (Don't worry: we're working on the video lag issue right now)

* Powerful filters that give YOU control of your content. While our default is Most Recent content - taking a traditional News-focused view - with a single click you can check out the Most Read or the Highest Rated stories. *You* choose what to look at and how.

* Explore Related Media. Each story includes its own page with a long list of stories that relate to the topic of the selected story. You can always dig deeper to get a full view of the news.

* Social news features. The ability to rate, email and comment on stories are included baseline features. While our Ratings method is currently only on the Explore Related Media view, this will shortly surface across the entire site. It is through our user ratings that we truly empower democratization of content and priority, a la Digg.

* Traditional Feed Reader functionality. In My Stuff, Spivot members can set up any feeds they want, organized the way they want them. As with the rest of Spivot, they won't need to consume them one feed at a time: they can "mash" them together into a unique, combined "newspaper-style" view.

* Up-to-the-minute updates. Spivot will surface stories almost simultaneously with the original content creator.

* "Powers of Ten". Designers Charles and Ray Eames used the "Powers of Ten" metaphor to show how your perception changes as you are nearer to or farther away from something. One of my favorite things to do with Spivot is to explore media in a Powers of Ten sort of way. I start by picking the Sources tab and clicking on the Newspapers link underneath it. This gives me a content mix of over 60 stories from ten of the top western newspapers to peruse and explore. Then I start clicking into each of the 10 newspapers, one at a time. The experience of getting an overview of the news from many sources - before quickly, easily and in the same interface being able to drill directly into each specific source, one after the other - is a media experience that I really enjoy and have not seen anywhere else.

While the product is pretty tight and in most respects performs well, we're just getting started. We're interested in selling the product, or getting funding to continue to build it and eventually become the preferred primary personal information portal on the Internet. In that spirit we would appreciate any connections to potential buyers or funding sources that you can provide.

The process of working on Spivot was a challenging one for our team. As a very busy services firm, we've had a consistent line-up of clients whom we're committed to providing with excellent service. So Spivot progressed slowly, fitting into the cracks between other things that we're doing. On various levels Spivot represents the contributions and input of most of our staff, along with a small group of testers we invited along for the ride some time ago. It is the manifestation of an intentional product design process that began as brainstorming to figure out the "right product" to create, and traingulating that with Andrei's vision of what a modern daily information routine should look like. And while Andrei has done a wonderful job on the product design, my "10+ Award" (his phrase) on Spivot goes to Ben Listwon, the CTO who put in countless stupidly late nights and weekends to get Spivot built. There are a lot of people's fingerprints on Spivot, along with generous flecks of blood and sweat from Ben in particular. His work on this has been nothing short of amazing.

We'd really appreciate it if you visited Spivot and checked it out. If you like it, we encourage you to use it and tell your friends! And, of course, we'd love to hear any feedback that you have.

Big News #2: Involution adds a third partner

Sat, 10 Mar 2007 15:33:34 CST

Of my three major professional announcements, this is the one I'm most excited about: Benjamin G. Listwon has joined Andrei and myself as a principal and co-owner in Involution Studios.

Ben joined our company on a contract basis in November of 2005, serving as the lead product designer for one of our start-up clients. He quickly took leadership over all of our corporate IT and engineering while working on client projects. He engaged with Andrei and I through a brainstorming process about possible new software products we could build and develop, eventually resulting in Spivot (which Ben engineered). Like Andrei and myself, Ben is passionate about design. However, whereas I bring a business focus to design, and Andrei brings a pure design focus to design, Ben brings an engineering focus to design. It makes for a powerful triumvirate, each of us valuing and expert in complementary aspects of design.

I had only met Ben a couple of times before he starting working with us, so his time with the company also served as my process of getting to know him. While his tireless work ethic and absurd degree of genius are obvious professional assets, what I value most about Ben is his character: he is honest, a pleasure to spend time with and just fundamentally good in a way that is uncommon, yet quickly apparent to anyone who spends time with him. We've been dogmatic about hiring people who are good, quality individuals as much or more than they are exceptional talents, and Ben is the prototype for this. He is a really special person who is very much appreciated.

Whereas Andrei and I were both well-known personalities in the digital design industry when we started the company, Ben is more of an "under the radar" kind of guy. He may not be well-known in the overall industry but has many dozens of people who he's worked with in the past that are passionate about him. Indeed, Ben's hands-on experience of designing and engineering products began when he dropped out of Cornell to sell a company to Microsoft, moving out to Silicon Valley where he helped create a number of different IdeaLab companies, was an early and key employee at PayPal, and helped design and/or engineer myriad so-called "Web 2.0" companies, including being the original designer of Yelp.com. While you may not have heard of Ben, he is a superstar talent who will continue to be heard more of as our company grows and evolves into one of the best-known software design companies in Silicon Valley.

So, it is my pleasure to welcome Ben as a partner and peer: along with Andrei and all of the exceptional talent at Involution Studios, the best is most definitely yet to come.

big Big BIG!

Fri, 23 Feb 2007 20:06:44 CST

Over the next ~2 months I will have (at least) three major announcements to share, each one in and of itself constituting a very large, extremely significant development in my professional life. Intrigued? I hope so. And it will also help explain why I've been so quiet the last couple of months.

In the meantime, be careful out there!

Articles

Mon, 18 Dec 2006 02:58:12 CST

A few lessons for business in the world of sports

Tue, 12 Dec 2006 12:13:51 CST

Three things caught my attention in the sports world over the last 24 hours that also hold lessons for the world of business:

1. While working out yesterday (Stairmaster, baby!) I saw a story on how the National Basketball Association (NBA) is changing back from a new basketball they introduced this year to the old basketball. And the analyst commenting on the story indicated that the reason the new ball was a failure was the communication process: the NBA went off and had the new basketball designed on their own and introduced (read: imposed) it on the league. He said that if the league had gotten key players who have influence over their peers involved right up front, from the point of conception through design and development, the process would have been seen as inclusive of the players and the new ball would have been a success. Instead, because the league did its own thing and just expected the players to accept it, the entire initiative was a failure.

And its the same in the world of business. Employees and customers want to feel like they're part of what is happening, otherwise they will revolt. The fastest way to ensure failure on a new corporate initiative or a new product launch is to not directly involve employees and customers, respectively. This example from the world of professional sports is only the most recent example of this very tried-and-true phenomenon. Organizational success comes back to shared vision and shared ownership of that vision. Anything less is going to fall short.

2. This morning I was reading an article about the National Football League (NFL) success of quarterback Vince Young, one of the most successful American college football players in history and the third overall pick in this year's annual professional draft for rookie players. The article talks about how Young's team, the Tennessee Titans, greatly simplified their playbook for Vince. As followers of American football know, it is a game that employs strategies and tactics similar to traditional warfare with solidiers, cavalry and artillery: there are many plans and playbooks that teams craft and employ, in an effort to out-think the opponent as much as out-play them. The author of the article, Jeffri Chadiha, credits Young's success to the fact that the Titans were flexible in changing or getting rid of their pre-existing grand plans and instead installed a simplified offensive playbook that played to Young's strengths, in order to take advantage of his talent and create an environment for him to succeed. As proof of his thesis, Chadiha offers three quotes, one from Kansas City Chiefs head coach, Herman Edwards, one from the Tennessee Titans offensive coordinator Norm Chow, as well as from another offensive coordinator, Al Saunders. Says Edwards: "Sometimes a coach's system can get so big that we do forget about the players. When that happens, when a coach's ego gets in the way, the system can retard the growth of the young guy." Says Chow: "Sometimes the problem with coaches is that we spend all this time thinking about ideas that we want to try. I hear people talking about how they run this system or that system. I believe in letting the kid do his thing. When Vince comes to me with a play he likes, I put it in the game plan. That way he feels like he has some ownership of the process." And Chadiha writes this about Saunders: "Redskins offensive coordinator Al Saunders recently said he could study any play of any team in the NFL on his laptop. He can watch third-down plays from the left hash mark, second-down plays against nickel coverage, anything. When I asked if that's a good thing, Saunders chuckled. 'It's great for the fans because of the creativity that can result from that,' he said. 'But for a young player, it can probably make things pretty difficult.'"

Edwards is identifying the essence of the problem by recognizing that there must be accord and bi-directional communication between both coaches and players. But more than just identifying that fact, it sure sounds like Chow - Young's actual coach - really lives it. Chow would probably be an amazing and successful manager in any industry. More than just being a really bright guy, he understands the need to prioritize for the success of the organization and overall goals, as opposed to ramming through his ideas or letting his ego get in the way of the greater good. In what he says and how he says it, Chow is a guy I would follow into battle.

Of course, on the other hand you have Saunders, who seems to recognize the futility of a strictly top-down approach while happily continuing to employ it. Sometimes, simple knowledge is not enough to really make the right choices.

3. From the same article was a sub-thread about a problem with information overload in the NFL, given that there are now so many ways to capture, process and analyze data and information related to teams, players and strategies. Edwards said: "We have the ability to gather more information in a quicker manner and that factor alone can handicap players. But that's where it's going. There's just too much information now. On one hand, it's progress. But sometimes you really can regress when you progress."

Sounds like they - like most businesses in the digital world - could benefit from the insight of information designers on staff, helping to make the complex clear!

Two Pointers

Wed, 15 Nov 2006 23:44:21 CST

1. For more than a year now, one of my favourite business proofs for the value of design and user experience was research done by the Design Council UK, illustrating how companies that focus and spend more on design have greater stock market success. Its a really elegant - and effective - proof. So I was surprised and thrilled to learn (via InfoDesign) that hotshot Canadian user experience firm Teehan+Lax has created their own UX stock fund. Not surprisingly, they are dramatically outperforming the S&P 500 so far. It is smart and inspiring, check it out!

2. One of the presenters at the STLUX conference was Dave Grey, CEO of XPLANE, "the visual thinking company." I've been a fan of XPLANE since first discovering them in 2002, and Dave's presentation on re-thinking meetings was an interesting exercise. But I'm mentioning Dave because he did an absolutely fascinating thing as a participant at the conference: he took visual notes, sketching the presenters and interweaving our comments and examples with his visual narrative. Really cool stuff, even if his excellent sketches leave me feeling a little self-conscious: has my face really gotten that fat?!

Rainy November Round-Up

Mon, 13 Nov 2006 18:11:35 CST

Recently back from the St. Louis User Experience (STLUX) Conference and feeling unabashed bliss at the prospect of spending the next six weeks comfortably here at my Silicon Valley home. A number of quick hits about myriad recent happenings:

* I really enjoyed STLUX. Being a regional (as opposed to a national) conference, it introduced me to some new voices and visions that were enjoyable and informative. To the credit of the presenters, most of the presentations that I saw included interactive, audience participation elements, all of which were effectively executed. The local community was very engaged and inquisitive, and the event was exceptionally hosted and organized. Thanks to everyone for doing such a great job!

* I've been consuming a lot of different media lately, and particularly want to recommend a book called Men are from Sperm, Women are from Eggs. A scientific look at gender differences written by a non-scientist, it is informative, fresh and very enjoyable-to-read. It helped to frame a variety of behaviours in a way that helped me better deconstruct things that happen in our culture, as well as in my own life. Really good stuff. We also recently saw Syriana which many of you have already seen but - if you haven't - is definitely worth a viewing. My only caveat, and I say this as someone who's so unconventional and largely liberal that Democrats and Republicans both make me similarly queasy, is that it tells a story characterized by fatefully jaded liberalism, infused with tinges of Hollywood-esque melodrama. Even with that said, it is certainly worth a screening.

* I haven't mentioned it yet in this space but for some time now I have been on the Advisory Board for a new user experience publishing company, Rosenfeld Media. The product of the wise and wonderful Lou Rosenfeld, RM has already scored a number of successes, including three nascent titles and - most recently - bringing Liz Danzico on board as Senior Development Editor. Liz is as talented as she is well-liked (which is really saying a lot), and her infusion of ability and enthusiasm is a big step forward for us. If you're interested in design and user experience, RM is definitely worth checking out!

So with a large block of time here at home and dad's death slowly-but-surely integrating more gently into my day-to-day life I'm looking forward to doing a lot of thinking and writing. My creativity is pumping, and it will be a joy to start exploring good parts of myself once again.

Presentations

Fri, 10 Nov 2006 00:46:40 CST

November 10, 2006
My slides from the St. Louis User Experience Conference (The Future of Digital Product Design) are located here.

September 12, 2006
My slides from PMA Canada Expo (What Does a Good Website Look Like?) are located here.

July 20, 2006
My slides from CHA Summer Trade Show (Designing a Great Website) are located here.

July 18-19, 2006
My slides from IIID Summer Academy/START (Experience Design Principles & Practices) are located here.

April 22, 2006
My slides from IDSA Southern Regional (Building Your Own Design Company) are located here.

March 14, 2006
Our slides from SxSW (Dogma-Free Design) are located here.

March 14, 2006
My slides from SxSW (Building a Start-Up Technology Company) are located here.

February 25, 2006
My slides from DIMA (What Does A Good Website Look Like?) are located here.

October 29, 2005
My slides from About, With & For (The Games People Play) are located here.

September 16, 2005
My slides from the AIGA National Conference (Designing the User Experience) are located here.

July 11, 2005
My slides from The Interaction Frontiers (The Future of Digital Product Design) are located here.

July 9, 2005
My slides from Vision Plus 11 (User Experience) are located here.

May 10, 2005
My slides from Blurred Boundaries/Focused Solutions (Innovating the Online Experience) are located here.

April 1, 2005
My slides from DevGroup NW (The Future of Digital Product Design) are located here.

March 14, 2005
My slides from SXSW Interactive 2005 (The Future of Digital Product Design) are located here.

March 3, 2005
My slides from User Experience and Usability 2005 (The Future of Usability) are located here.

As difference reveals similarity, perceptions begin to unravel

Thu, 02 Nov 2006 13:52:21 CST

The three most common attributes of successful investors are, according to Michael Mauboussin, the Chief Investment Officer for Legg Mason Funds:

1. A focus on process versus outcome
2. A constant search for favourable odds
3. Understanding the role of time

Which upon reading immediately made me think, "But couldn't you argue those are among the most important attributes for a successful designer?" Which led me to inspect that thesis further and conclude, "Aren't those attributes universally important to almost any endeavour that does not have a specific, defined absolute outcome?"

First, to validate the connection (since the language of finance is generally foreign to the language of design), here is how each of the three apply to the cornerstones of design activity:

1. A focus on process versus outcome

This one is obvious on its face. A consistent theme among great designers is a focus on process and experimentation as opposed to a specific outcome. There are no surprises here.

2. A consistent search for favourable odds

Odds? What does a designer care for odds? Well, a designer is attempting to arrive at the most appropriate possible solution for their design challenge. This inherently involves constructing a solution that, both on a component and complete basis, is successful. The process involves considering many, many possibilities to varying degrees before settling on the ones that appear to be most right. While the context is different (i.e. not with a numerical/monetary endpoint similar to an investor's settling on their conclusion of what investments lay the best odds), the DNA of the motivation and activity are essentially the same: It is a process of whittling down, of beginning with many possibilities before ultimately executing only a few.

3. Understanding the role of time

The role of time is absolutely essential to design. How much degredation will a material or item sustain as a result of the passage of time? How much time will it take someone to complete their desired task with a product or experience? How will styles and tastes change with the passage of time and completely alter the perception people have of the design, despite the design itself not changing? These are foundational, fundamental considerations for a designer. Typically, time is the enemy of design for these and other reasons, and it is incumbent upon the designer to understand and harnass time, even using it to our advantage whenever possible. I will go so far as to say the role of time is the most important external and unchangeable force on design. For once a design is "complete" (in those contexts where design culminates in a "final" product), it is the effects of time that largely dictate how it is perceived, how it evolves, and the degree to which it succeeds or fails. Is it timeless or trendy? Helpful or clumsy? Long-lasting or ephemeral?

So with kind thanks and respect to Michael Mauboussin, here is my gently revised three most attributes for successful ~~investing~~ design:

1. A focus on process versus outcome
2. A constant search for better solutions
3. Understanding the role of time

How truly different are investing and designing? Dare I say that the Wall Street power suits and ubercool designers-in-black may be much more alike than we've been conditioned to consider?

And contextualizing this in design is only the first layer of unpeeling the onion: this basic structure holds up very well as a process and foundation for many different vocations and activities that do not have an absolute and defined outcome (such as accounting, where there is only one best, correct and legal answer, or most manufacturing disciplines, where creating a specific, exact and precise end product is the goal).

This, then, opens up much larger questions such as: other than the materials being used, what is the difference between designing and investing? (Careful...once you acknowledge that the materials being used are different it is not as easy as it seems to argue that the activities themselves are otherwise fundamentally different!) Or bigger questions like, are things that seem superficially different in the world truly different in any meaningful or sustainable way? And if we've constructed our reality around those things being different, if we begin to see them as the same, how does that change our fundamental realities? This can quickly fan out to cover the most contentious and fundamental beliefs and perceptions we have, ranging from religious to ethnic to cultural to values to science and beyond.

Of course, I am not doing the profundity of the issue justice in this humble medium. But these are fun, profound and important questions, worthy of deep conversation in comfortable chairs while drinking good scotch. Talisker, anyone?

Silver Linings

Wed, 01 Nov 2006 14:02:29 CST

During dad's ordeal and in the aftermath of his death there were a number of good things that happened: I got to know or get reacquainted with some of my parent's friends; all of my father's siblings - each of whom I've only met once or twice - were in close contact and visiting, allowing all of us to spend time together and make connections; people in my life stepped forward and thru some form of compassion, consideration or empathy showed parts of themselves that not only helped me but made me appreciate them more deeply. And I even got to spend a lot of time with my sons which is always my very favourite thing to do.

These are independently valuble examples that collectively represent people becoming closer. That is, as a direct consequence of dad's illness and passing (and in some cases facilitated thru my public sharing of that via this website) new and/or stronger and/or deeper connections between people took place. As a family, we became closer. Outside of the family, in the relationships with many of my friends and acquaintances, we became closer. It is almost as though we naturally want or even need to be closer to one another than we typically are once someone else leaves, that collectively we expand to fill the vacuum of the departed or, before he did pass, expand to strengthen the weakness in the collective fibre created by the illness.

So for the one who sent the unexpected wreath, or for the one who movingly called the moment they heard, or for the one who gave thoughtful support and love despite barely knowing us, or for the people who provided mom and the rest of us with meals aplenty, and all of the other kind and thoughtful people, thank you. It matters and is remembered.

The most fortunate of all these things were the reconnections with dad's brothers and sisters. For me personally, having had very little contact with my aunts and uncles (not to mention cousins) has long left a feeling of emotional lack. But best of all was, in these last days, seeing so much more of my father and learning about him through their eyes and experiences. In getting to know them I also got to know my father in a way that I never would have otherwise. These were conversations and recollections that could only happen in the context of their visiting and reminiscing while he was ill. So while it is tragic that this could only happen in the context of his fall I am extremely grateful and feel fortunate that it did happen as part of that heartwrenching process.

Of course, another big piece of this silver lining is the changes and growth that we all need to undergo in light of dad's passing. But I'm not ready to talk about that, nor do I necessarily have adequate perspective to do it justice...yet.

We can't bring dad back but we can try to make the most of the present and future, and leverage and remember that which he brought in his life. That will not only bring us collectively closer, it will also enable us to grow individually stronger. And the circle of life thus continues.

Finding equilibrium

Fri, 27 Oct 2006 01:08:02 CST

A little over three weeks have passed since Dad departed and I finally feel like I've reached a point of stability. I haven't finished reconciling everything that has happened - not by a long shot. But I've caught up enough professionally that I can see light shining around the edges of the massive "to do" piles in front of me. And I'm getting back into a routine that portends superficial normalcy. These two small things have had a very positive impact on my state of mind.

There have been so many things I've wanted to write about for a while now, but the idea of taking what's in my mind and putting it to paper (or pixels, as it were) has proven too large a gap to bridge. Now, I'm getting close to the point of expressing myself publicly again. That's another good sign. Of course, one of the things I really want to write is a post to memorialize Dad. But I'm nowhere near ready to do that yet.

Its funny: two days before I first learned about Dad's condition I was going to write a post talking about how I was ready to make a big step forward in my life, firing on all cylinders and tackling new and significant challenges. Today, how naive that state of mind seemed, and how sober I feel.

In any event, I'm coping well I think and am returning to some form of normalcy.

Dad passed away this evening

Mon, 02 Oct 2006 22:57:26 CST

It was quiet and peaceful and he wasn't in any pain. I'll be in Toledo thru the weekend helping to wrap things up. I will post a memorial to him in the Heart section once I've had some time to grieve.

My deepest thanks and gratitude to everyone who has reached out to dad, mom, Karen and myself during this ordeal.

An update as I prepare to head home

Wed, 27 Sep 2006 13:07:22 CST

Over the past six days dad has been on a bit of a roller coaster about what is going to happen. Late last week he decided that the conclusion he reached at the end of three weeks of testing in the hospital - to go to Hospice and die relatively quickly and peacefully - was made in the duress of the situation and that he actually wanted to fight. Since then we've gone through a process of tests, a doctor's visit, a trip back to the hospital, two days of deliberating, and finally a decision. This morning he elected to try radiation treatment. This specifically means that he is abandoning any hope of recovery (which would have been a chemotherapy option, which had very very little hope of success) but is electing to endure some short-term discomfort in the hopes of a temporarily improved quality of life, and perhaps extending his life some months beyond the current "weeks, perhaps a month or two" prognosis.

As always, thanks for your kind thoughts and well wishes. I will post any updates here as appropriate.

Hospital care desperately needs design

Fri, 22 Sep 2006 17:32:33 CST

There have been a lot of things broken during my father's encounters with the health care system over the last two weeks (and even previously before that, considering he was misdiagnosed in a way that has now made it impossible for him to recover). But among the most egregious of all was the method and content of communication while he was in the hospital getting tests to determine what exactly his problem was.

Over a period of more than a week, my father was hospitalized and subjected to numerous tests. Many of the tests had to do with different things and different parts of the body, and for each of these the process fell under different specialists. This meant that in each instance he was dealing with a different doctor: a different person preparing him for what was to come, taking him thru it, then providing him feedback and information at the end. Near the end of his stay in the hospital there was a seeming constant parade of doctors coming into his room. While each one was commenting on a particular subsection of the overall situation, ostensibly some of their information overlapped. And perhaps predictably those overlaps were not consistent: different prognosis on what the specific problem was. Different prognosis on treatment options. Different prognosis on lifespan. It was the very height of maddening confusion. What's more, it was exacerbated by the fact that there was no schedule. A doctor would say s/he'd be in at 9 am and they would show up at 1:30 pm, without a call to notify or explanation as to the reason why. The four-and-a-half hours in between are a period of anxiety, dread and uncertainty: not exactly the way you want to be feeling when you're forced to stay in a hospital for a long period of time and it is taking a while to determine how serious your situation is, and whether or not you will live or die.

The basic structure of the health care industry in the U.S. is one where there is a general practitioner (GP) who is your diagnostician and go-to doctor, then other specialists who are specially trained to deal with the more specific areas of the body or problems that we might face. The GP sends you to one or more of these specialists once s/he has diagnosed a problem related to their area of expertise. This basic structure is sensible, but where it goes wrong is in situations like my father's, where the GP becomes one among the faceless stream of uncoordinated professionals parading thru the hospital room, and it takes days and mass confusion before there is a reliable prognosis or shared understanding of what is going on.

Now, taking this to design services, our company actually structures ourself similar to the theoretical U.S. health care model: myself or my business partner are the project leads for everything that comes through our shop - the "General Practitioners" who have a broad understanding of everything pertaining to the products or experiences we need to design. Then we mechanize team of specialists - researchers, designers and engineers - who do the magic to make our design great. While both of us - especially Andrei - have experience and ability in doing various parts of the actual work, our critical role is in the areas of direction, oversight and communication. We understand the client and their situation. Mindful of this we orchestrate our product team. Key to this process is the communication aspect: when we structure projects like this we, for the most part, serve as communication buffers with the client. Everything the client hears, they hear from us. Why? Because we understand the big picture and take that into account when communicating things both large and small. Because we are focused on communication as an end to itself, not just as a necessary evil that slows us down from producing. Because not everyone is a good communicator. Because effective communication requires some degree of schedule, routine and reliability. Communication is perhaps the most essential ingredient to our long-term business success, which is not surprisingly a big reason for the happiness and fulfillment of our clients.

And that's not rocket science; its just common sense. So when I saw the chaos surrounding Dad at the hospital, it curdled my skin. Would it kill them to have one or two point people for all communication, instead of a steady stream of 6-10 doctors that we can't even keep their names straight? It sure would have been better for us, and probably much better for them as well from an efficiency and operational perspective. Would it be too much to ask to not have doctors who are incompetent communicators, with little-to-no professional empathy, to kindly NOT be the ones who are ineffectively letting us know what the situation is? Would it be unreasonable to imagine that communication could be handled in a scheduled way and, if for some reason that schedule could not be kept, they would kindly contact us and let us know when to expect them instead?

If I ran my business like this hospital conducted business, I would be out of business! And it is exacerbated by the fact that my work is in product design and management consulting. It is important to a certain degree, but not life-or-death. My father's situation was/is absolutely life and death! And this is the level of incompetence and terrible service we are confronted with? For shame. If anyone needs care, dignity, consideration and empathy it is a person who is in the hospital, understands there is something dreadfully wrong, and is seeking information as to what the problem is and what it means to the rest of their life. I have to assume that while some health care facilities or doctors or teams of doctors get it more right than what our family dealt with, it would be naive to imagine that this experience - which was treated as de rigeur by all involved on the (ahem) "professional" side - is not relatively widespread and experienced by others.

I had a few conversations with Richard Saul Wurman back in 2003, when he was shifting his professional attention squarely onto health care. At the time I intellectually understood the importance of better design in health care. Now, for the reasons I've shared here among many others that I haven't (interns typing into their BlackBerry while the doctor is telling my father he has only weeks to live, anyone?!), I can actually feel the imperatives that Wurman talked about, in a very clear and present way. Nothing matters more in our lives than how long and comfortable and fulfilling those lives actually are. And much of that level of consideration is dictated by the health care system. I'm on the edge of an entirely different rant now and am going to wrap this up rather than go down the whole sordid and exceptionally dirty laundry list of problems we've had to deal with. But, at a minimum, you offending hospitals and health care facilities, kindly bring in someone like myself to observe how you handle your patients during the entire experience of interacting with you, to help redesign that process so that - as much as is practical and possible - the experience can be as soothing, empowering and - heaven forbid - even positive as possible.

Heading back to San Jose next week

Fri, 22 Sep 2006 14:45:32 CST

I'm tentatively scheduled to return to San Jose next Wednesday, returning to Toledo on Friday October 13.

My father's condition is variable right now: in addition to the cancer there are issues surrounding his kidney function, which is ultimately the part that could end things pretty quickly. There is also a possibility that he will now accept treatment, which he previously declined. So things are changing on a near-daily basis, and we don't have any solid answers or information at this point. It is all very day-to-day.

My sister and I are trading off being home for the time being in order to support our mom who is the primary caregiver and is exhausted in pretty much every possible way. Bless her strength, as she soldiers on without complaint and with an always positive and empathetic demeanor.

Heading Home for Now

Sun, 17 Sep 2006 23:23:04 CST

My father's condition is deteriorating quickly and I am heading back to Toledo on Tuesday, duration TBD. Many thanks to all of you who have shown concern and support during this difficult time.

Adjusting and Sorrow

Sat, 16 Sep 2006 22:51:42 CST

My 67 year old father was recently diagnosed with inoperable stage four cancer, and we're trying to adjust to this unexpected and devastating news and its effect on our family. So if you don't hear from me much lately or if I'm not responding to things as quickly as usual, sadly this is why. Thanks in advance for your kind thoughts and prayers.

Living in harmony with machines

Wed, 30 Aug 2006 13:14:43 CST

Today I had to send a fax to a friend, but the fax machine and I just couldn't get along. The first couple of tries the number rang busy, then it rang thru but wouldn't successfully send (neither of these the fax machine's fault, by the way). But I was losing time trying to figure this out and beginning to get irritated. So unfortunately the fax machine chose this moment to start getting jammed. Every. Single. Time. I. Tried. To. Send. This. Bloody. Fax. My irritation is pretty obvious, yes? Even moreso for the fax machine! Impatience turned into cursing; cursing turned into actually hitting the machine. Yes, I was the one who looked ridiculous. No, it wasn't making any difference (other than unintentionally prompting a co-worker to see what was going on and help me figure out what the problem was: hurrah for working with people who are smarter than me!)

I've never had tolerance when machines fail to complete the tasks I want. It's a failing, and one that often keeps me in some degree of disharmony. Even as I've matured and curbed much of the braoder angst from my youth there are still the periodic edges of green that manifest in largely benign (if counter-productive) ways. But I think an important battle will be won at the point I can exist in harmony with even the least compliant of machines that I'm relying on to help me.

Remember when...

Wed, 30 Aug 2006 12:42:17 CST

...I wrote a seemingly outlandish article about Google buying Apple? Well, the full-blown acquisition may never happen, but yesterday Google CEO Eric Schmidt was added to the Apple Board of Directors. Suddenly, the thesis for hooking up Google and Apple seems a lot more reasonable.

Graduation and variance

Mon, 28 Aug 2006 16:18:53 CST

As my friends and followers know, poker has become my primary leisure activity over the past few years. And what I'm finding is that the more I play, and the better I get, the higher of stakes I'm playing for. Consider this basic evolution:

2003 - 3-6 and 5-10 limit games
2005 - $100 max buy-in no limit games
2006 (Spring) - $200 max buy-in spread limit games
2006 (August) - $500 max buy-in spread limit games

That's a pretty steep curve - at least for me, who has taken a conservative approach to my poker playing.

I did well at the limit games while experiencing high variance of success and failure. By the time I moved into the $100 max buy-in no limit games I was a pretty good cash player and largely rolled the game: I was often winning upwards of 10x my buy-in, a sure sign that I was playing below my ability. Moving up to the $200 max level was an interesting experience: I felt pretty strongly that I was better than much of the competition, but my results were eventually mixed. I was way up during the early months but had a (pretty recent) bad patch that brought me down around even for the level. So far my single experience at the $500 max game was again that I am good enough for the game, and I about tripled my buy-in for the session (being staked by my friend Tim).

So while I now see the $500 game as my comfortable level of play I am definitely not done with the $200 level: regardless of how I view myself at the table, if I can't consistently beat it I can't confidently move up higher. For context, while these levels are considered insignificant for professional gamblers they are pretty exhilerating for an amateur like me: big pots with multiple raisers often exceed $1000 for a single hand. Its a little humbling to remember that, just three years ago, I couldn't imagine ever playing a game where I could lose $100 on a single bet. Now I'm pumping in multiple $200 raises on a single hand. I never would have imagined it.

The good news-bad news is that the $500 spread is the biggest game I can play at my local, conveniently located casinos. Good news in that there is a cap on how much I can be risking. Even though I've shown excellent bankroll management and avoided addictive gambling behaviour, I'm all for external constraints as an additional safeguard. The bad news is that I don't really have anywhere else to go with my game, when and if I conquer the $200 and $500 games, being that I have neither the ambition nor the interest to be a professional poker player.

So that's where I'm at with my poker. If you are interested in this check out my recent series on poker, business and design at Core77. Expect more poker updates to come in the weeks ahead.

We are the choices that we make

Thu, 24 Aug 2006 12:58:48 CST

I've spent the last more than two years without an automobile. That was a choice based on a few things, each holding approximately equal weight:

* Unnecessary. When I lived in Boston (and initially dropped my car) I was working out of the home and within walking distance to the grocery store, post office, restaurants and other necessary destinations, plus had access to Fran's car when necessary. Now in San Jose we live literally right behind the CalTrain station, which can take me to most of the towns between San Jose and San Francisco, albeit with limited mobility once I get to those places.

* Inconvenient. When I lived in Boston (and initially made this change) there was not free, convenient parking.

* Irresponsible. As someone who is concerned about the environment and the future of our planet and species, I have long viewed any unnecessary ownership and use of a car as being irresponsible.

* Expensive. Even in the best case, between car payment and insurance and gas, it costs at least $500 a month to drive around these days. That's money I could put to better use elsewhere.

But lately, as my life has been getting more complex and the near future will require me to function more as an actual CEO as opposed to humbly running our services company, it became evermore apparent that I would need to have full-time access to a car in order to do that.

Me. A car. The last time I had a car was by lease: a black Honda Accord that I left behind in July of 2004.

To be sure, I've considered a car between now and then. As we were moving to California I considered an old (late 1970s), used (obviously) Mercedes Benz. My grandmother used to drive one from this era and somehow the retro nature of that choice seemed to both fit my personality and serve as a good option for the environment: recycling the old instead of creating the new. But I didn't end up getting one. More recently I chose a motorcycle as a smart alternative form of transportation, allowing me to travel around the Bay area without much cost to the environment or my pocketbook. But after a harrowing experience losing control into oncoming traffic, suddenly the two wheeled route didn't seem so smart anymore. So that led to the present decision to get a car.

I had a few criteria in mind as I started out looking:

* Wanted something that got good gas mileage and was environmentally friendly. That most likely meant a hybrid.

* Wanted something that was as maintenance free as possible. That most likely meant leasing a new car.

* Wanted something that was very large and comfortable for the driver. I'm 6'4" tall and over 16 stone. That meant smaller and more gas efficient (non-hybrid) cars like the Honda Civic were probably out.

* Wanted to spend under $400 per month without putting tootoo much down up front.

So I started out looking at Toyotas (I used to own a Camry and really liked it): the Prius and the Highlander Hybrid. The Highlander was particularly intriguing because of its large size and the fact I've always wanted to sit high above the highway and see more yet that has never been a possibility, owing to me disdain for SUVs thanks to their environmentally unfriendly nature. Surprisingly, the Prius was almost $400 a month as a base model and much more than that for just the basic comfort features. Along with the fact you can't get a moonroof (which I really like) and that I only plan to drive a meager 5000 miles or so per year, the Prius suddenly didn't seem like a good option. The Highlander Hybrid was actually hundreds of dollars more per month than my budget so that become a non-option as well.

That took me back to my old reliable, the Honda Accord. My previous lease on an Accord was a merre $330 a month for a new, loaded automobile. So I knew I could get an Accord within my price point and have a nice, large, comfortable vehicle. The gas mileage isn't fantastic (~25 MPG combined) but not bad either. But at that point I got the idea of looking for a convertible. We're in California. The weather is appropriate for having your top down for well over 300 days each year. That might be a fun option, and my only chance to own a convertible in the next 20-30 years (assuming having a child sometime in the next ~5 years). So I looked at the Toyota Solara (say that 10 times fast), but its lease prices were pretty expensive. And I went back on Craig's List to check out 1970s era Mercedes convertibles again, although those would likely require heavy maintenance. And somewhere along the way I bumped into the following:

Lease Special: 2006 BMW Z4 Roadster. $3,100 down, $329 per month.

I almost fell out of my chair. A BMW for $329 per month? How is that possible? The Z4, one of the sexiest cars around? I was intrigued, to say the least. So we went over to the BMW dealership. And I took a test drive.

And I was completely blown away.

Now, granted, I've never driven anything more sporty than a Toyota Celica or Chevy Beretta, and most of my driving has been in tried-and-true Camrys, Accords and Civics. But, OMG, driving this BMW was like nothing I had ever experienced. Love at first ride.

So I looked a little deeper: comparable gas mileage to the Accord. BMW covers any and all maintenance including oil changes (other than tire repair), saving me even more money. Getting the Z4 loaded - not quite to the gills, but close - would bring me in around $410 per month including all taxes, fees, etc. It was plenty big enough for me. It was comfortable. It was insanely fun to drive.

The only barrier left is my aversion to luxury brands. Sure, I was looking at old Mercedes': but that was more a retro thing and tied to the fact my grandmother drove one and it represented something meaningful from my childhood and a connection to her. Fact is, I'm not a car guy. I don't lust after luxury brands, I don't feel an ego boost from luxury brands. If anything, I would be embarrassed driving a luxury brand because suddenly I am the insecure person who needs an expensive car in order to feel good about themself. I'm more the type to drive an everyman kind of brand and wear that as a badge of honor. And yet, this super fun and comfortable car that would really fit into my lifestyle now - not to mention is reallyreally small making parking a breeze - has just fallen into my lap. Financially, with the possible exception of an Accord, it just makes the most bottom line sense. And that is completely apart from the comfort, fun and - yes - brand.

So it is, perhaps improbably, that I am soon to become the proud owner of a BMW. A Montego Blue Z4 3.0i to be exact, with a beige top and beige leather seats. Premium sport package. For under $420 a month. (The lease specials are nationwide and last thru August 31 if you want to get in on the fun as well!)

Part of me is really, really excited: I never expected to own a car like this, and stumbling into it opens up all of the possibilities that come with considering new horizons. But a bigger part of me feels like a sell-out, trading my Prius sensibilities for the debauchery of the wild side.

All of this comes back to the title of my post: I've always been of the opinion that we are the choices that we make - as opposed to the things we say or think. That action reflects motivation, values and preferences. So my decision to drive a BMW Z4 compels me to look back at myself and question what exactly I am, and try to reconcile the Prius of my thoughts and words with the BMW roadster soon to sit in my garage. And perhaps another part of this is thinking about the future: as I am in other ways shifting myself to play the role of CEO, how will this auto fit into the picture? What am I ultimately conforming into, and will it (or to what degree) change the essential parts of me that currently and historically provide my center?

Important questions, all.

Introducing Design Futures

Wed, 23 Aug 2006 12:52:26 CST

Remember the Design Vision conversation earlier this year? Those conversations never really stopped, and we're going to start publishing some more of them over at Luke's website, Functioning Form. Start following the conversation, called Design Futures, here.

Embracing the temporality of life

Thu, 13 Jul 2006 14:26:46 CST

As a teenager and in my early 20s I spent what I (presume to be) an unhealthy amount of time fretting about the temporality of life. And I had an active desire to somehow move beyond that, to break that seemingly essential boundary of existence so that I would not cease to exist. This exploration never reached a particularly concrete or action-oriented place, but it was definitely something that I actively thought about.

Happily, that changed in an instant. In graduate school, during a philosophy class on The Meaning of Life (taught by the late and wonderful Professor James Child) I came upon a poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley called Ozymandias. I share it hoping that its perspective will prove at least interesting and perhaps enlightening for some of you:

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear -
'My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of the colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

We are all forever and completely mortal. We might, perhaps, control the duration of time for which we are somehow memorialized, but at some point our memorial ceases to have meaning, and at some further point it will even cease to have any degree of physicality. That is inevitable, it is just a question of time. Even the King of Kings, at some point, will functionally cease to exist. And (in Shelley's conception) even though artifact of his existence continues, it is meaningless and without context to the world.

This may not be a very happy line of thought for some of you, but for me it was an epiphany. Resolving the drive/fear/tension/yearning to prevent the end of my existence enabled me to identify and focus on what really matters: creating meaning and contributing to the happiness and well being of the people I care about. Not that I didn't do that before, but it became more of a solo pursuit as opposed to being part of a jumbled chorus.

I like lawyers

Wed, 12 Jul 2006 16:17:26 CST

Acknowledging a relatively small sample size, I've had the opportunity to work with a handful of different lawyers over the past nine months and have gotten consistently fast, friendly, informative customer service. It has been so good, in fact, that I'm struck by the overall quality compared to (fill-in-the-blank-with-pretty-much-any-other-general-type-of-professional). I don't really have the knowledge base or free analytical bandwidth to deconstruct this observation any further right now, but needless to say my impression of attorneys as a class is quite strong and far, far from the tired stereotypes that are commonly propagated in our culture. Many so-called "customer service reps" could take a page from the attorney playbook as I'm experiencing it.

P.S.: how do you spell check when you're in an environment without a native spellchecker? In order to correctly spell "propogated" (which was my original mis-spelling) Whereas I used to use dictionary.com, I now just Google the word, which immediately lets me know if I got it right or not. What other formerly stand-alone tools is Google (or just search in general) disenfranchising? All the world's information, baby...

End of an era (as it were)

Thu, 06 Jul 2006 14:27:46 CST

I'm in the final stages of wrapping up what has turned out to be a 3 1/2 year orgy of publishing articles on design and business.

Since February 2003 I've published over 75 articles in more than 15 different places. That's about two articles per month during that period. As my regular readers have noticed, my production has dropped dramatically over the past six months or so. For a while I thought it was burnout. Then I wondered if I'd run out of things to say. But finally I think that I've just moved on and want to focus on new things.

My latest kick is building organizations. Of course, I've been building Involution Studios for about two years now. We're up to five people and are just in a really stable and successful place. But I've also been helping to build the User Experience Network (UXnet) and was recently named the organization's first President - a humbling and empowering honour. Now I'm also incorporting and building a software company (more news on that as appropriate), and sketching out plans to build a second services company. I'm not real clear on how I'll be able to function as the CEO of three companies and the President of a non-profit all at the same time, but I suppose it will come down to relying on the brilliance and hard work of the people I'm lucky enough to be working with.

So while I will periodically continue to write articles, this specific moment in time is notable because my last Core77 poker article - and thus commitment - just published. And I just sent in the rough draft for my last article for Digital Web Magazine in to the editor. Working with DW has been a lovely three+ year relationship that has finally reached an end. That leaves my only commitment as being periodic columns for UXmatters, which on its own is plenty manageable regardless of how busy I get.

The other thing I hope comes from this? More time to write here. With less writing commitments hanging over my head I am already feeling the lifting of a great weight, the heft of which I suspect has been blocking my leisure writing for some time now. Happy, this.

Exploring the Overlap

Sat, 01 Jul 2006 02:29:03 CST

Over the Memorial Day weekend now not-so-recently past I participated in The Overlap, an event that I helped organize in Monterey, California. Focused on topics in the overlap between business and design, the event attracted ~40 top thinkers and practitioners in the design space, and precious few participants from business and other fields.

First, the good: lots of bright and amazing people. Meeting new friends (and seeing some old cyber-friends in the flesh for the first time). Smart and engaged outside-the-formal-session chats. Richard Farson, a behavioural psychologist, who gave what was considered near-unanimously the presentation of the weekend. A very appropriate setting at the slightly-roughing-it and eminently comfortable and casual Asilomar Conference Grounds. Amazing, beautiful weather and vistas, capped off by a fun-but-rigorous hike through the hills and valleys south of Monterey.

All that said, I left The Overlap deeply disappointed. By its very charter, The Overlap endeavoured to take the existing business and design conversation to the next level. As someone who is spoiled by getting to attend many conferences and events around the world in a myriad of different business and/or design spaces this focusing on the next level was incredibly appealing, even inspiring. But in reality the presentations - while very nice and given by bright and insightful people - were little different than the better typical conference fare that I already experience. I've seen uplifting presentations on how the design process at (enter your design firm or entertainment company of choice here) resulted in either smarter more user-centered design, or in some sort of meaningful social change. Excellent content, but ultimately stale. More, being shown different people/company's concepts of design and process and conceptual models suffered from being both redundant with so many other conference presentations and ultimately did little to move forward a meaningful collective conversation, given that most of us by definition are very senior people with our own conceptual models. Just getting an extended taste of one other attendee's approach did little to generate any blue sky thinking or group synthesis.

The Overlap - compared to your typical conference - was a wonderful experience and by most measures a success. But compared to the high hopes I had for it going in, expecting the event to be a unique dialogue that empowered us to at least attempt to transcend the current conversation and rhetoric around business and design together, for me it was a huge disappointment.

Some things I'd do differently next time:

1. Create a truly multi-disciplinary event: more people from fields other than design

2. Make it multi-track. Trying to accomplish everything as a single group suffered from not consistently appealing to everyone. Have a tactical track. Have a strategic track. Have a blue sky track. Allow people to move between them, and bring them all back together periodically to participate in synthesis exercises/presentations

3. Make it more participatory during the sessions. We wanted the sessions to be "sparks" to large group conversations, but most of the time during the sessions it was The Presenter talking to The Crowd

I got involved in organizing in The Overlap when I mentioned to my friend Steve that I wanted to help create a conference that took these conversations to the next level: he promptly connected me with the principals of The Overlap. This yearning to build something on my part began after I missed out on Andrew Otwell's legendary Design Engaged event in Berlin last fall, having found out it was open for registration only after it was already oversold. A subsequent conversation during dinner with my pals from Ziba, Bill and Tom, led to fermentation of the idea to envision and create something, which led to my talking about this with various people and eventually connecting me with the Overlap. (not that you asked for the whole bloody history, but there you have it!)

I'm really glad to have been part of The Overlap and feel blessed for getting to work with smart and talented people in organizing it - to say nothing of the privilege of hanging out with this group for the better part of a long weekend. But, to take a bit from Bono, I still haven't found (or created) what I'm looking for.

From Sin City to DCamp: a three day adventure

Mon, 15 May 2006 17:47:33 CST

I lead a pretty privileged life: I get to do an amazing array of interesting things. So it was this weekend (Thursday-Saturday, close enough!) when I took a day trip to Las Vegas followed by a day-and-a-half at DCamp in Palo Alto.

The Vegas trip was all about friendship: my good buddy Tim is getting married next month (NYC, here we come!) and Wednesday-Sunday of last week represented the bacchalanian bachelor party beforehand. Since I'm both very busy right now and not attracted to most of the good ol' boy fun that marks a bachelor party, I elected to just fly in for a single day, to participate in a poker tournament at the Bellagio with him. This was my first time playing in a tournament of this magnitude in the most legendary poker room on Earth, and it was a helluva good time. Some highlights (most of which will only be interesting to poker players):

* I finished 16th. Out of the money, but in the top 1/3 or so of entrants. This is a good showing.

* The tournament structure was awesome. It went SO SLOWLY. There was lots of play, and I was never in a position where I felt like I had to push to survive.

* The quality of play was exceptional. No big surprise, but it was a firm reminder that while I'm already an excellent cash game player, my tournament game could use some work.

* I lost two big hands, and they were both AK. The first time, my play was correct and I got unlucky. The second time, my inexperience in late tournament play saw me strategically misplay the hand and get knocked out in the process.

* I played into the third hour. Even though I was one of the less experienced players there, the game was obviously not over my head.

* Tim lost when his AA - which he played correctly, including a healthy pre-flop raise - ran into a maniac 63. Brutal way for the star of the party to bow out of the big tourney.

We also played some cash games at the Mirage where I got awful cards, took two sick beats, and still only lost the equivalent to the cost of a nice lunch. I can live with that.

Best was meeting Tim's brothers: aside from being nice guys, it is always really insightful to meet family members of friends, to begin creating a deeper narrative understanding based on similarities/differences in their appearance, personalities, and mannerisms.

So: flew into Vegas at 11 AM, flew out at midnight, and arrived in SFO at 1:30 AM (ugh). Thank goodness for Fran consenting to pick me up at the airport at that hour: that's love!

But after a brief pause (productive Friday workday back in the office), it was on to DCamp, the latest "unconference" on design - this one being hosted at SocialText in Palo Alto. This was my first unconference, and I have to say that the unstructured format was not to my liking. While the more informal and interactive nature of the talks was really cool, the ad-hoc process of scheduling (and the chaos/confusion surrounding the meeting spaces) made it really difficult to plan a schedule and try to pre-construct a personal narrative for what one would do. The very dramatic nature of it I'm sure appeals to certain types, but for others (me!) it was too extreme. Some highlights:

* The best part was seeing and spending time with old friends. While I got to see a number of friends in passing, best was getting to eat a long lunch with my friend Steve. Extended one-to-one interaction with people I know and like is sweet.

* Met lots of new people. There were only a few that I engaged with long enough to get their card and expect to continue communication, but its always exhilerating to meet new, bright people - of whom our community has in rich abundance.

* The generosity of the organizers and sponsors was fantastic. Lots of food and drink, and every effort to make the experience a good one for all. Hats off to SocialText: they gave us the total run of their workspace for this, something that as a business owner I would have had to swallow REALLY hard before doing myself!

* The first night at Gordon Biersch was choice. There's nothing like alcohol and the expectation of the experiences still to come to break down barriers and let the good times flow.

* "Perspective" and "Reflections". At two different moments - separated by less than five minutes - I had two really amazing moments and was going to write about each on this site under those specific headings. But I'm not going to have time, and I share it here only to remind myself of those moments in the distant future when my mind will have forgotten them.

* I got totally sunburned during lunch on Saturday. My arms still hurt.

So, it was quite the little weekend. From battling with poker pros in the most prestigious poker room in the world to hanging out with other design professionals and talking about interesting things. Throw in a few drinks and a lot of friends, and it all adds up to a memorable weekend.

On workplace attire

Sat, 06 May 2006 13:27:21 CST

I'm not sure if this is an "own your own company thing" or a "life in California thing", but on most days I wear jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and sandals into work. Sure, if I'm meeting with clients the sandals get dropped for my trademark cowboy boots, and the plain white T-shirt is replaced by some manner of Nat Nast or Thomas Pink collared shirt. But most days, I wear to work the same basic thing that I wear in the evenings, and on weekends, and when I'm traveling. And there's a real comfort to that, a more relaxed and improved lifestyle that no amount of money or opportunity or luxury infrastructure can replace. It is just me getting to be me, and I'm finding that I enjoy that quite a bit.

Ephemeral zaniness

Sat, 06 May 2006 13:22:31 CST

We've been watching Miami Vice lately via Netflix: at first it was just a nostalgic trip to "I wonder what it looks like now?" but we've ended up watching a lot of different episodes, largely owing to Fran's enjoyment of the series, since she is from Miami which spurs an entirely different level of nostalgia for her.

The show doesn't hold up very well: it is extremely high style, showing the bleeding edge of 1980s fashion, design and architecture. Unfortunately, that is one bleeding edge that probably should never have been exposed. Then, the writing and storylines are brutally bad. Stupid bad. Really, really bad. (Did I mention the writing is bad?!) The acting oftentimes is even worse.

Sure, its fun to see Crockett and Tubbs do their thing. And there are some aspects of that culture of cool that are interesting or perhaps even informative from a design perspective. But on the whole the show just doesn't hold up very well.

However, getting to the inspiration for this post, last night we watched an episode called "The Fix", in which a Miami judge who was the father of a star basketball player was being bribed by his loan shark, to whom he was deeply in debt. The judge was in essence "dirty," influencing cases to the benefit of the loan shark and his friends. Finally, the loan shark demanded that the judge force his son to "throw" an important playoff basketball game - or else there would be big trouble. At first the judge consents and asks his son to do this, which shocks the son (who is ignorant of his father's gambling and looks up to the judge as a great and important man). However, after spending some time wracked with guilt, the judge calls up the son, tells him to play his best and win, then goes and kills the loan shark before killing himself.

Sound like pretty standard melodramatic fare? Yep. But here's where the zaniness comes in: the judge was played by one "William F. Russell", better known as Bill Russell. The 6'10" Bill Russell who led the Boston Celtics to nine straight NBA titles in the 1950s and 1960s. The same Bill Russell who is reknowned for his great character and dignity.

The loan shark? Played by one Michael Richards. The same Michael Richards who memorably played Kramer on Seinfeld, the most successful and popular sitcom of the 1990s. The Michael Richards whose unique brand of physical comedy lent goofiness to forgettable 1980s movie comedies like UHF and Transylvania 6-5000. The same Michael Richards who is regarded as an important figure in television comedy thanks to his work with Jerry and the gang.

Michael Richards blackmailed and manipulated Bill Russell, who finally got mad and killed him for it. Before killing himself.

Maybe its just me, but the juxtaposition there between the characters in this episode and the real life accomplishments and activities of those two people is just really something. The only word I can think of is "zany"!

As a post-script, one of the real joys of Miami Vice are the guest stars. Its freaking crazy watching the show, because you get this weird crossroads of older past stars (Franki Valle, Miles Davis, Bill Russell), 1980s pop icons (Devo, Phil Collins, Glenn Frey, Gene Simmons, Ted Nugent, El Debarge, Fiona), and future stars before they were stars (Jimmy Smits, Suzy Amis, Dennis Farina, Bruce Willis, Michael Madsen, Eric Bogosian, John Turturro, Ving Rhames, Charles S. Dutton, Nathan Lane, Mykelti Williamson, Dean Stockwell, Kyra Sedgwick, Michael Richards). And that's just thru the first season-and-a-half!

Spring? Oh Sprrriiiiiing? Wherefore art thou?

Sun, 23 Apr 2006 23:54:09 CST

Exactly four weeks ago I was walking thru the neighborhood and smelled beautiful Spring flowers. And I was already writing in my head a post entitled "The Smells of Spring" that happily announced Spring's arrival in Silicon Valley. But I didn't get around to writing it that day, the next day it rained, and I forgot about it.

Two weeks later I was walking to the train station and heard the sound of bright, happy, Springtime birds. And this time I thought, "I'm going to write a post called The Sounds of Spring!" But I didn't have time to do it that day, and it rained the next day, and I shrugged and waited for Spring again.

This week I went to Atlanta, and all week before I left it was beautiful. And I happily emailed friends reporting on the arrival of Spring. But last night I returned from Atlanta, and today it rained.

I'm still waiting for Spring.

Remember the Titanic

Tue, 11 Apr 2006 04:09:07 CST

This weekend, I finally shed my distinction of being the last adult over the age of 25 in the U.S. to see James Cameron's movie, Titanic. Aside from being underwhelmed - and slightly embarrassed for marking out a bit for the melodrama - I was struck by the incredible parallels between the voyage and demise of the Titanic and the path we seem to be on right now in the world. Consider:

Titanic was the biggest, mightiest ship in history. It was perceived as unsinkable. Its stakeholders were very motivated to leverage its fame and capabilities as much as possible in order to maximize their business interests. Because of the arrogance surrounding all of this, they did not notice an iceberg ahead of the ship that would sink it. They tried to change course once they did see it, but it was too late. The ship smashed into the iceberg. Quickly, the powers-that-be realized the ship was doomed as a result of this crash, and it was just a question of when - not if - the mighty vessel would sink. This was followed by an almost comical lack of realization by the crew passengers, a tacit refusal to acknowledge or accept what was happening. But as the great ship slowly began to ease into the water, people finally figured it out. Trouble was, for most of them it was already too late. As the ship continued to sink, and as it became increasingly clear who would make it to a lifeboat and survive, and who would end up stuck on the vessel, people began to panic. They began to make irrational decisions. As the ship was in its last throes of preparing to sink to the bottom of the ocean, most of those who remained on board were tossed about and crushed, powerless in the vortex of this superhuman calamity. And then the ship sank. And then most of the people died. And then there was silence.

There are lots of icebergs ahead, ranging from the degredation of the environment to the threat of nuclear or biological calamity. Almost all of these threats were caused by us, a product of the civilization we've created and the drive for technology and capital at the expense of the ecological and human systems that sustain us. I'm not informed or knowledgeable enough to know how close any of these icebergs are, or whether it is too late or not to avoid them. But I do know that watching this over-hyped Hollywood artifact represented a change of context for me. Before, Titanic was a big ship that was badly administered and sunk and a lot of people died as a result. Seeing the movie tell the story - especially with such a melodramatic angle toward the human tragedy involved in the fall - Titanic suddenly became a cruelly predictive metaphor for where we've been, where we are, and where we might all be headed.

Thirtysomething

Sat, 08 Apr 2006 18:06:12 CST

So it has taken me about a year, but I finally understand and accept what I've become: a thirtysomething.

Technically I'm about 32 1/2 at this point, firmly entrenched in a life stage once iconically represented by Ken Olin, Mel Harris, Timothy Busfield, Patricia Wettig, and friends. I'm no longer among the young, now one of the younger among the middle. I move a little more slowly (which I'm sure some people are thankful for!), I'm definitely a lot more patient (which I am incredibly thankful for!) and on a daily basis learning how to be a fully-formed adult. That might sound a little strange, cos I've spent a fair number of years now serving leadership ("adult") roles in my career. But that was "professional Dirk", a facet of my personality borne out of necessity and largely constrained to just those things. "Personal Dirk" was lagging far behind, still equal parts out-of-control teenager, bright-eyed twentysomething, and a bit of a lost boy.

So now I am congealing. The awkward, uncertain adolesence of the last couple of years is replaced by a placid acceptance and even appreciation for the stage I'm at in my life now, and the evolutionary path ahead of me. This is good. I'm up for this: I understand it, and I think I can leverage my maturity and presence of self to really be a positive force in the lives of people I love, like, care about, or even just the people I encounter. Doing what I can for the benefit of the collective good has been my primary life motivator for a long time, but today I feel more capable than ever to truly be of service.

I understand and embrace what I am: a thirtysomething. This is empowering. It is exciting, and I'm really looking forward to the next almost-8 years!

Next stop? 40...

All design, all the time

Sat, 08 Apr 2006 17:17:27 CST

Not quite, but after spending much of the last year focusing on management consulting-type activities for clients (as well as running the company), I'm now taking the lead product design role on a few different, interesting projects. Nice change of pace, and I'm happy for what will surely be a relatively short-but-juicy affair, designing products again.

The quantification of happiness

Wed, 29 Mar 2006 13:58:45 CST

As a handful of my friends and colleagues know, my thesis in graduate school was on "Happiness in American Culture." That research and analysis was the first step toward a planned career in philosophy, attempting to provide solution(s) to broad questions about broadly achieving and enhancing human happiness and well-being.

So it is that I took particular interest in a couple of related stories on CNN Money this morning:

Economists quantify job satisfaction.

How to buy happiness. Cheap.

C'mon, get happy. Seriously, it pays.

Most interesting is the quantification of job satisfaction on the basis of fuzzy factors. I was not surprised to see salary increases as the least influential factor, although the degree to which it fell behind the others was unexpected. This quantification process made me think about the quantification of design in business (which I won't talk about today) as well as my original inquiries into the human condition.

One of the first things I learned in my scholarship was the difference between happiness and well-being. Most serious philosophers today center the discussion around well-being, even to the point of implicitly looking down on the notion of happiness.

The most basic difference between the two is that happiness has an ephemeral quality that is often tied to our subjective perception of what we want, whereas well-being lives in a more objective place that balances what you want and enjoy with what is really best for you. For example, smoking might make you happy, but most often it is at odds with your well-being. At the same time, sex typically both makes you happy and is good for your well-being. However, eating tablespoonfuls of unprocessed coconut oil is a good test case, because even though it has tremendous health benefits, it is such a nasty experience that it could easily be posited that, on balance, ingesting this coconut oil does not support our overall well-being.

Even though these conceptions were originally framed and understood as happiness (think Aristotle, The Nichomachaean Ethics), serious contemporary scholarship now largely frames these questions in the space of well-being.

The distinctions are subtle but, talking through them here, I'm less and less surprised that I've ended up in design, trying to solve problems having to do with the qualities of people's physical experiences. It is all about happiness and well-being. I'm sure we could even create an interesting little visualization mapping different elements of the user experience to happiness and well-being.

But getting back to the more philosophical ground, outside of the academy, it is happiness that is one of the most important concepts in our society. Consider some of the initial and most powerful language in the U.S. Constitution:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. --That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.

That is powerful stuff. Happiness is raised to the level of one of the three greatest goods, along with life and liberty. Pretty rarefied air. And we see this desire for and focus on happiness play out in everyday life: being happy is on the lips of most of us. We've been taught - programmed, if you will - that it is good to be happy. This is a foundational culture conception going back (at least) to the penning of the Declaration of Independence. But is happiness good for us? Is happiness truly something we should be pursuing?

I posit that many of the problems in the world today are the product of what I will call the Be-Happy Mindset: people seek out the most efficient path to their (and others') happiness, frequently to the detriment of their well-being and the greater good. Indeed, this parallel is endemic to industrialized society, as mass creation and refinement becomes a whirligig of constant production and consumption. The effects of this are plain enough: an obesity epidemic. An environmental crisis escalating to the point where there may not be any turning back. An ever-increasing sense of entitlement and privilege at the expense of the disenfranchised.

The process of writing this is actually turning me against myself: when I first saw those articles in mainstream business/financial press I thought, "that's great! Stop focusing on making money for the sake of making money; focus on the more important things like happiness!" And I wanted to share that good feeling. But, going through this process of explaining and analyzing the space between happiness and well-being, it is becoming evermore apparent that we our so wrong-minded today that what seems like sanity - considering holistic questions about what is good for us instead of buying into the capitalist dogma - is actually just an entirely new brand of insanity. We're still focused on the wrong things - which is ourselves. What we really need to be thinking about is each other. We need to see the world as a system, and the only "happiness" that we will ultimately enjoy here is based on using well-being - not happiness - as the crucible for decision making.

During the Cold War, JFK tried to create empathy between the U.S. and Soviet people in a variety of ways, this famous quote among them:

For in the final analysis, our most basic common link, is that we all inhabit this small planet, we all breathe the same air, we all cherish our children's futures, and we are all mortal.

In those words is an enduring logic, and a perhaps unintentional refocusing of what should really matter. Life is not about "happiness", that clumsy notion of personal satisfaction and contentment. Life is about a collective well-being, an ebb and flow between all of us - perhaps to include all organic matter that co-inhabits our planet. And even if people don't agree with this from a philosophical perspective, it is becoming an imperative that we acknowledge it from a self-preservation perspective. Surveying the weapons and technologies that could rather easily kill us all, considering the fact that many, many scientists around the world and without vested interest are tracing out an impending environmental apocalypse, it is quickly becoming essential to our continued existence that we do something.

I will gladly sacrifice some of my own "happiness" for that.

Software design and industrial design are the same damn thing

Fri, 24 Mar 2006 03:05:53 CST

Our recent Design Vision conversation includes hundreds of non-published pages of email conversations that ran in parallel to what was publicly published. Among the unpublished stuff are many valuable nuggets. Here is one of the themes articulated during the discussion that I think is valuable to share in the interests of helping people better understand the whys and what-fors of design. I'm copying this verbatim (with the consent of the participants), and picking up in mid-stream:

Bob Baxley said:
Don't disagree that they're parallel. What I wonder about is if in the case of physical products, manufacturing is significantly advanced and understood to support a wider range of design innovation and imagination as opposed to software engineering which remains less understood and therefore less malleable requiring closer collaboration between the designer and engineer to find feasible solutions.

Dirk Knemeyer responded:
I think it is more a question of perception, and a reflection on the ability of the software designer, than a reality inherent in the different contexts.

So, with physical products, there is a finite known quantity (what is physically possible to build, considering all possible contingencies) and an infinite unknown quantity (what could be specified but there is currently no known way to make it). As I know Jim will attest, the actual manufacturing specialists using various materials know more about what is and is not possible in the edge cases than the industrial designer, in almost every case.

With software products, there is a finite known quantity (what can be built, considering all programming languages and use of those languages today) and an infinite unknown quantity (what could be specified but there is currently no known way to make it). As we all know, the actual engineers know more about what is and is not possible in the edge cases than the interface designer, in almost every case.

I think that both physical product design and software design require similar amounts of collaboration between designer and engineer/manufacturer/fabricator provided that the relative ability and knowledge of the designer is the same in both cases.

The big difference that people find mystifying is that engineers are controlling completely ephemeral constructs when they code, whereas manufacturers are making real things you can hold in your hand. But I think that really great interface designers - and this has proven to be perhaps Andrei's best skill in my working with him - have their head deep-ass into the engineering part of it. They can't necessarily back-end code the damn thing, but they are five steps ahead during the design in knowing what is or is not possible, what will or will not work, and what it will cost, how it will affect schedules, etc. Just as great industrial designers are playing in that same space with physical products.

The more time I spend working on this stuff, the more convinced I am that the difference between industrial designers and interface designers is simply a difference of context and perception. They're fundamentally doing the exact same thing.

Jim Leftwich added:
Dirk nails it. This paragraph in particular is very closely related to what I'm saying about the "architecture of interaction" and its relationship to and differences from "real world architecture," (whether buildings or products):

"The big difference that people find mystifying is that engineers are controlling completely ephemeral constructs when they code, whereas manufacturers are making real things you can hold in your hand. But I think that really great interface designers - and this has proven to be perhaps Andrei's best skill in my working with him - have their head deep-ass into the engineering part of it. They can't necessarily code the damn thing, but they are five steps ahead during the design in knowing what is or is not possible, what will or will not work, and what it will cost, how it will affect schedules, etc. Just as great industrial designers are playing in that same space with physical products."

My contention and stated starting goal in 1983 was that just as industrial designers (again, primarily the European ones) had emerged from the field of architecture (several of the Bauhaus designers were architects), and that these forms of architecture were based on tangible, fixed and configured structures (i.e.: brick and mortar, or metal and plastic), the new field of interaction would extend yet further into a new realm, where the architecture was of comparitively intangible, dynamic relationships of function and usage (and embodied within traditional real world architectures).

My goals were lofty. They weren't an attempt to decorate media and software. They were to establish (along with what I felt would be others) a completely new realm of architecture on par with the Eurpoean models of architecture for buildings and products.

And hence, why my goals were to be very rare here in the U.S., and yet once I began to meet and work with European designers, were embraced as the obvious and sensible way to look at things.

Bob added:
Appreciate the ongoing thread on this as I suspect you both are right and I'm simply trying to understand and accept the nuances of the argument.

What strikes me as different about Industrial and Interaction Design is the temporal dimension. Although there is a huge amount of overlap between the two there also seems to be critical difference brought about by the added dimension of time.

By way of metaphor I might say that Industrial Design is to photography as Interaction Design is to cinema. And btw, I actually prefer photography *^)

And just to echo one of Dirk's other comments, I couldn't agree more on the need for designers to have a rich understanding of the underlying technology. All of my success as a designer is directly attributable to my technical knowledge as the success of basically every successful designer I can think of. It still astounds me how little technical understanding many UI designers actually have.

And Jim capped it off:
Yeah, I think this is yet another multidimensional topic that's difficult to map in a linear text thread.

I know that what Dirk said was actually focusing a bit more on the aspect of how closely architecture (of any kind, really) needs to be aligned/coordinated with the technology/technologists. I agree with that, as well. I've spent most of my career working hand-in-hand with engineers, and most of those I've worked with have been incredibly brilliant (and actually very pro-design/architecture).

This brings up another thing that I've sort of grumbled at for years, and that's the sometimes-veiled/sometimes-overt anti-engineer sentiment. I don't know how many times I've heard anti-engineer sentiments expressed at BayCHI, and it always chapped me, because it was so wrong-headed.

It was as if it were designers vs. engineers, and that's expressed even in the whole "user-centered design" meme. It's always contrasted with the "engineering-centered method." Yes, there are plenty of examples of devices, software, and systems that are bolted-together assemblages of functionality with no regard to how its integrated and used, but that's just as much poor engineering as anything. I think engineering and design is one continuum, and that reflects the fact that the best designers/architects are very informed about/involved with the technology, and the very best and most effective engineers are actually really design and user aware.