analogy: chefs and PMs

I've just finished reading Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential for the n-th time. If you've not read it at all, go find a copy and consume it immediately.

For the PM crowd (and I appreciate your sticking with me over the last few weeks of more-infrequent posting) this book will remind you of something. It will remind you of how you got to be a PM in the first place.

PMs and chefs come about through roughly the same process of tutelage. You learn your craft in a crucible, working through different roles, suffering alongside other travellers in a number of "kitchens" until you know enough of your craft to take charge.

That is not to say that PMs displaythe same penchant for bad behavior as M. Bourdain and his colleagues do. But if you've ever spent any time in a kitchen during the dinner rush, you'll see some similar parallels between that experience and, say, system test. Or "launch week". Both of which can produce their share of thuggery.

Except we don't get to play with knives on the job. At least, not around here. YMMV.

travel: never-ending (with bonus booze link)

For the first time in a long time, I had the pleasure of enjoying Chicago's largest airport twice in one week. The second time, last night, was accompanied by a series of delays, a flight memorable for its encounter with thunderstorms, and a 1am cab ride through the dark streets of Basking Ridge.

Everything happens at once, it seems. Deadlines, family adventures, end-of-quarter, management shifts, angst. Its inevitable.

But since every pile of poo is accompanied by a hidden pony, I can share the following:

When I was 15 or so we lived in France, and went to the Normandy region for a quick family vacation. My four brothers and I were offered a local "cider", which sounded innocent enough. But Normandy cider is actually a potent fermented beverage, which had a predictable impact on us. The parents wondered why we were all so silly by the time dinner ended.

The news is that genuine Normandy cider can be found on this side of the Atlantic. Gary's in Bernardsville had a few bottles of an "unpasturized, unfiltered" Normandy cider, which when tested proved to be as potent and delicious as the drink we enjoyed almost 20 years ago.

You can read about it at the manufacturer's website. I think I'm going to waste a lot of time looking for a local supplier of this and their other varietal Calvados.

Slainte, all. If I can survive the week ahead, I'll have accomplished something truly wonderful.

drone: your resonant frequency

Close your mouth so that your lips are just barely touching and your teeth rest lightly against each other. Now take a deep breath, relax, and starting mid-way through your range, vocalize an "ooo" sound followed by an "eee" sound, all the while avoiding the temptation to puff out your cheeks or let too much air escape.

When you run out of breath, try to breathe in without losing the mouth-shape you've found, then repeat. Your teeth should be buzzing a little - let the tone go lower, lower still, until you find a note that makes your entire head feel like it's going to start to vibrate.

This is your own resonant frequency, your personal drone-tone.

My note is C# two octaves below middle C. My resonant frequency, my natural drone-note, makes my teeth buzz against each other like they've been electrified, especially on the "ooo" vocalization. It also helps clear my head, and makes strangers look at me like I'm the stranger. Pshaw.

(You'll probably get a buzz-effect at a bunch of places along the way, as you will at octave intervals above and below your personal-best drone. But one of them will be the best - find that one.)

It's hard to create good solid tones - and hold them. Unison singing (plainsong or Gregorian chant come to mind) is damn hard, harder than throwing down another few bars of Handel's Messiah. Singing over a drone can be especially challenging. Ever sing accompanied by a bunch of bagpipers? Not easy.

(Remember the definition of a gentleman is someone who knows how to play the bagpipes but doesn't.)

Drone music - from Fripp & Eno to Autechre to Japanese gagaku to Australian didgeridoo - makes you slow down and listen. It forces you to contemplate the unchanging now. And it's easy to do: anyone can pump the bellows on a harmonium or turn the wheel on a hurdy gurdy and drone away. Just like anyone can do what I described at the top of this post. It's a path to 和 (wa), a vehicle for harmony, peace, balance. One note, whatever that note happens to be.

tenses: in anticipation of travel

Mid-week day trips are a sure-fire way to tempt fate. And fate is more than willing to deliver.

Coming up this week - get from Chicago to Boston and back in fewer than 24 hours. Sounds simple. Will probably leave me reaching for the nearest nail-festooned 2x4.

What are your least-favorite "hops"? What airports consistently deliver a full-portion of woe? Where do you swear - swear - you'll never go again without a fight, only to find yourself (SET PACINO VOICE=ON) pulled back in?

survey: mildly inappropriate persona names

We love our customers, we do we do. But when it comes to persona-driven design, do you choose to assign your personae:

a. perfectly normal common names (Don, Mary, George)
b. exotic multi-cultural names (Siobhan, Keshawn, Mao)
c. evocative cartoony names (Betty Boop, Sluggo, Felix)
d. other?

I got away with "Sluggo the Setup Author" for a while before The Man put an end to it. I'm curious what you've been able to get away with sort of names you use.

event: bc speaking at software marketing perspectives conference

If you happen to be at the Santa Clara Convention Center today at 4:15pm, stop by for my talk on "value-based licensing". You'll enjoy 40 minutes of wit and insight, and if you mention this post, I'll buy you a drink. Really.

gallery: duck with rider

request: your recommendations in six areas

I've grown tired of my "free" blog statistics package. If any of you fine people can recommend one that you use and like, please, chime in. Feel free to leave a comment or send me an email.

And while you're at it, I'm looking for recommendations around any of the following:

1. A good SciFi/Fantasy novel/author - beach time is around the corner, and I need my fix.
2. A good new anime series. .hack//Roots? Mobile Suit Gundam IGLOO? There have to be a few fansub fans here...
3. A good reliable drink recipe. There are only so many mojitos I can consume before I go permanently blind.
4. An easy-to-make vegetarian Indian recipe.
5. A decent bottle of red wine under $15.

movie: jet li's 'fearless' - more of the same?

Rogue Pictures will be releasing Fearless to 600 theaters across the country on August 4th. It's billed as "Jet Li's last movie" - which is marketing-speak for "we can't think of anything else to lead with."

Senor Li has chosen a truly novel story for his final film. According to EntertainmentWise.com:

'Fearless' tells the true story of legendary martial arts master Huo Yuanjia.

Deeply humiliated by his father's death in a public duel, a young Huo resolves to become the best fighter he can be. But soon his incredible fighting skills cost him the lives of the people he loves most when his family are killed in a brutal revenge attack. Yuanjia flees, no longer caring whether he lives or dies. Just as he is ready to give up hope, he is saved by Granny Sun and her blind granddaughter who accept him into the idyllic village where they live.

Huo finds a place where he really belongs, untill he finds that he must fight for what he truly belives (sic) in.

Wow! Imagine a martial arts film featuring a nihilistic hero who must fight for what he truly believes in following the senseless murder of his loved ones. How refreshingly new!

"Bob, the movie isn't even out yet - why are you so down on it?" you ask. "I saw the trailer a week ago before The Di Vinci Code, and it rocked. Maybe you should just lighten up and get some more sleep."

"Why? Because I'm sick to death of the same tired themes, the same hackneyed stereotypes, and the same predictable outcomes in every martial arts film. If I drink a pot of coffee and spin around for ten minutes, I can simulate the experience this movie will give me and save $10 bucks."

"Then don't watch them."

"That's not the point - I want someone to take a chance! Do something new for a change!"

"With the money that's at stake with these films, no one is going to take a chance, you know that."

"Wrong - directors take chances all the time - but since it's near-impossible today to deliver genre content directly to the markets that will pay for them, we never see those experimental, controversial or challenging films."

"So what do you want?"

"Fix the distrubtion arm of the movie business. Instead of ten great big bland movies that are guaranteed to play blandly to large audiences to generate x income, do a hundred cheaper, more interesting films that can be laser-targeted at consumers who self-identify as fans of the genre. That'll generate x times 10 revenue, but more importantly, at a lower distrubution cost, mostly from marketing."

"How is this going to happen?"

"Three things - broadband, handheld media devices that synchronize with home entertainment systems, and an opt-in service that you use to describe what you like in exchange for recommendations and per-use discounts."

list: top 5 things my wife gets me to kill

1: Spiders. I'm convinced she married me to kill spiders. I've come to recognize the distinctive sound in her voice when there's a spider that needs a-killin'. 90% of the time the spider isn't doing anything but hanging out, contemplating life, but even so, I'm called in to architect its speedy demise. Once or twice she's called in a hit on a quarter-sized wooly spider wearing racing silks that looked like it would make quite the meal for an iguana. I don't feel so bad about offing them. My preferred M.O. is a tissue, but I'm not above giving the bigger ones the good old Khrushchev shoe treatment.

2: Hornets, especially the ones that decide to set up shop in nests along the deck rail or under the eaves. My preferred M.O. is high-pressure pesticide from a spray can, at dusk. (We had an infestation of two-inch long bumble bees that set up shop in some windchimes, but I didn't get to liquidate them, alas.)

3: Mice. We had field mice issues in New Jersey one winter-into-spring. A particularly crafty one gnawed his way into the house first by defeating a corner of the garage door then sneaking into the house unseen through the back door. After a whirlwind tour of the basement - during which Mr. Mouse displayed a powerful aptitude for fecal distribution - it made the critical mistake of scooting into the pantry while I was watching. I rubbed it out with a high-velocity saucepan attack.

4: Ants, but only when they find their way indoors, which is pretty rare. Scattering boric acid around the foundation of the house does a fabulous job of keeping them out, but sometimes one gets a flash of inspiration and, having decided to see how higher mammals "get it done", makes the mistake of getting spotted by Her Nibs. These poor guys get the old "thumb and forefinger" treatment.

5: The occasional hobo.

odd: the post-GA letdown

You get used to operating at such a high level of stress - and for such an extended period of time - that the day after GA feels. . .wrong.

There should be more to do "right now" - more than the inevitable press events, the follow-on training, the "how do I use all the stuff you gave me" explanations. The website is live, the product is shipping, the email campaigns are clicking away, and life goes on.

Your body gets used to the fear, the uncertainty, the impending sense of something about to go horribly, horribly wrong. But nothing did. Sure, Mistakes Were Made. But mistakes are always made. The cardinal sin wasn't committed (missing GA) and we managed to avoid an entire constallation of venial sins as well.

There's nothing to celebrate except the feeling of having lived through another one. We all know we released something special - something that's going to solve some pretty damned serious problems for thousands of customers - but we don't have time to do anything but settle in for the next release. That's called being a Fully Allocated Resource.

I've read that after a long night in the kitchen cooks like to get together, slurp down sushi and unseembly volumes of beer and sake, and talk about the evening. They celebrate what went well, lick their wounds if the kitchen melted down, and wonder why the hell that six-top decided to send their steaks back.

We should be like cooks, given the similarities between creating software and cooking meals. We should go find a bar, hurt a keg or two, and work through how we feel about what just happened. We'd be better for it.

gear: the bubble club armchair

Made famous of late as the patio armchair most often occupied by Alan Shore and Denny Crane on Boston Legal, Philippe Starck's Bubble Club Armchair is a triumph of minimalist outdoor style. $545 from Design Within Reach.

Denny Crane.

gear: the #8 opinel knife

Il-y-avait une fois it was not uncommon for young men to carry a penknife around with them - not to reenact scenes from West Side Story - but because you never knew when you might need to cut something, anything.

For me, that knife was (and still is) an Opinel #8.

With a design that dates back to 1895 the Opinel knife is simple but super-functional with a beechwood handle, a ring-locked blade to secure it in both the opened and shut position, and a stainless-steel blade.

And if you find yourself getting ready to walk through security at the airport and you remember that you've got one in your bag, you can surrender it without feeling too bad - since you can buy one at Sur La Table stores anywhere for about $10.

shift: from the psp to the ds

A little over a year ago I waited on line to buy a Sony PSP the day it was released. I bought a few games - Lumines, Untold Legends, Ridge Racers, Metal Gear Acid. Over time I picked up some movies, a few more games (most notably Hot Shots Golf and X-Men II: Rise of Apocalypse), a memory stick, and a case. You could safely say I was well-invested in the platform.

Today I struck a deal to sell my entire kit of PSP games, movies, gear and the PSP itself. Quite a generous deal, I should say.

I didn't have to, but it was a symbolic action on my part. I want no more of the PSP. It has failed me in ways I could not have anticipated when I bought it a year ago.

1. UMD Movies killed battery life, which reduced the PSP's usefuless as a platform for watching movies. Hey, I'm not about to rip DVDs, right?

2. The dearth of imaginative original games - and a surfeit of mediocre and just plain bad games (Death Jr., Midnight Club come to mind) - left me playing the same old titles over and over.

3. The web browser interface is broken - over-complicated, over-proprietary. Besides, why do I want a web browser on my game system?

4. And finally - fatally - it's just to damned bulky in practice to be truly portable. I do a fair amount of travelling (this week I was in CA Wednesday and Thursday, and dambit, got stuck on the red-eye last night) and can't afford to schlepp it all around. I also got tired of worrying about scratching the screen - that beautiful, big screen - and tired of cleaning the faceplate.

So on June 11, I'll be on line to buy a Nintendo DS Lite. I'll use it to play games with my kids (Mario Kart, Super Mario Brothers), fiddle with music (Electroplankton), slip into a meditative state (Animal Crossing), or fly around and shoot crap (the upcoming Starfox Command). I'll feel good about clamshelling it shut, about its incredible battery life, and about its brain-dead easy local wireless connectivity.

Will I miss the PSP? It's absolutely killer screen, extensive memory, be-everything-to-everyone capabilities? Maybe. I just have to remind myself that I haven't watched a movie on it in months, haven't played a new game on it in months, and never got around to upgrading the OS to 2.7. Because I just didn't care if I had the fancy new Location Free TV capability that I'd never use, or the RSS reader. . .

Or the zillion other features that Got In The Way Of Playing Fun Games.