shift: trees / forest / ocean

Ernest C. Arbuckle once said "you should repot yourself every 10 years.” How many of us actually do this? Or do we define ourselves by the habits we establish, the company we keep, the work we do, by the rhythms and patterns of our thoughts?

I'm looking forward to a change. Not just swapping one barnyard for another - a real change. A new objective with more meaning. I'm tired of pushing software out the door month after month, quarter after quarter. I've seen the forest for the trees, and I'm ready for the open sea.

ouch: zune a "complete, humiliating failure" says chicago sun-times

Chicago Sun-Times columnist Andy Ihnatko unloaded his angry gun in a recent review of the Microsoft Zune player. Go give it a look then pop back here. I can wait.

Now I've read bad reviews before. I've even been the subject of bad reviews. But when Mr. Ihnatko wrote. . .

The Zune is a square wheel, a product that's so absurd and so obviously immune to success that it evokes something akin to a sense of pity.

. . .I found myself looking for the punchline. The Zune may not reach the standard of openness and interoperability that some reviewers might be looking for, but the device itself is far from DOA.

The other day I was in a local OfficeMax to make some copies when I stumbled across a Zune display comprised of two units padlocked to booms and a variety of accessories. The one functioning Zune was connected to a pair of portable speakers. . .and was tuned to a radio station.

That alone had some stopping power, so I paused to give it a second look.

I'll spare you a discussion of the navigation controls or the size of the thing. The display unit had a few music videos stored on it that looked terrific (picture quality, not picture content - not a big fan of the hip-hop, am I) and the integrated radio performed flawlessly in a brief test. I tried out the music interface and while not quite as familiar as the iPod, it wasn't "broken".

When I think about how I would use a device like this, I don't imagine that I would want to share music - no one I know likes the sort of crap that I go in for. Nor do I think I'd ever want to go "on-line" to buy ZunePoints on the ZuneMarketplace.

So if the way it handles DRM, file sharing and on-line transactions are "broken", I don't really care. Given that it is a first-generation device, and given that the Zune product managers are now walking the earth listening to the market reaction to their first attempt, I can expect that certain "broken" functions will be less so in the next generation.

And I can guarantee you that there will be a next generation Zune. And a third. The refresh rate on consumer electronics is the critical success factor, moreso than the success rate of a given generation.

But here's the kicker - I'm not the target demographic for this device, so what I think doesn't count. My "use case" doesn't matter as much as that of the 20-somethings pictured in the Zune ads. MSFT has made a bet that this demo cares about radio, they care about sharing music, and they care about video. What Microsoft didn't take into consideration is that this demographic also cares about "street cred" the same way that extreme sports fans do.

In his article "In Board Sports, Insider Status Makes Gear Sell", Matt Higgins wrote (my italics):

If it seems confusing, that is sort of the point. An insider’s understanding has kept the lucrative board-sports industrial complex — skateboarding, snowboarding and surfing — mostly in the hands of hard-core practitioners, even as these sports have grown more popular. Mainstream companies like Nike that have easily penetrated other sports often find themselves on the outside looking in, struggling to gain traction with action-sports athletes and fans who define their world by its antiestablishment bent.

Like it or not, Apple owns the antiestablishment brand, while Microsoft is the essence of establishment. It shouldn't surprise anyone when Angry Reviewers like Mr. Ihnatko savage Microsoft over their decision to embed industry-friendly DRM controls into the Zune. . .even though Apple has similar protections in their iPods.

So in the end it comes down to branding, perception management and good old-fashioned PR. By failing to guarantee that the Zune's features didn't violate the belief set of the target demographic, Microsoft has all but guaranteed that this first generation Zune will fail. It's not that it lacks compelling features, a solid user interface or even good design - it has all three - but it lacks street cred.

An example of a feature that would help restore the Zune's "street cred" would be for Microsoft to remove the song-sharing feature in lieu of a simple "share my favorites" capability that allows the user to send "pointers" to their favorite music, movies, pictures, etc to friends. This would make it easier for the recipient to access them online, perhaps at a "referral discount", with a "referral credit" to the original referrer. Everyone wins. If they're that interested in making it easy for 20-somethings to listen to the same music, put a second audio jack on each Zune, or an audio jack "in" attachment to each earpiece.

Taking the file sharing out would eliminate the "three song maximum" restriction that so many users find offensive. It would replace it with a function that would meet the use case ("let me share my music") without the deal-breaking DRM restrictions.

I'm looking forward to the second generation Zune (update: Microsoft confirmed on 7.23.07 that there will be a second generation Zune for the 2007 holiday season), if only to see how well the Zune product managers have listened to the lessons of the first. The first generation may be less than great, but it's far from a humiliating failure.

good news: ibm to invest in 3D internet and virtual worlds

Last week at SC06 - the annual Supercomputing conference held this year in Tampa - IBM Chairman and CEO Sam Palmisano pledged to invest $100 million dollars over the next two years in business ideas emerging from IBM's recent "InnovationJam" brainstorming initiative.

According to IBM's Irving Wladawsky-Berger (link), the number one idea to emerge from InnovationJam was 3D Internet: “partnering with others to take the best of virtual worlds and gaming environments to build a seamless, standards-based, 3D Internet - the next platform for global commerce and day-to-day business operations."

For anyone who has read Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash, the concept of a fully-functional metaverse is particularly exciting, especially one that has built-in systems for security, entitlement management ("who can come into the Black Sun?"), extensibility and above all, reliability. If anyone can do it, it's IBM. Who cares if they're doing it for commercial reasons - sure, they're setting out to build the Street so they can sell real estate - but I'd argue that if you're going to charge admission to the Cathedral, you're going to let people wander for free in the Bazaar.

alternative: a better michael richards apology

(disclaimer - this didn't happen. It would have been better for everyone if it did.)

Dave: And now we've got Michael Richards joining us over closed circuit from LA, hello Michael.

Michael: Hello Dave, thank you for giving me this opportunity to speak to your audience.

Dave: It's been a rough day, what happened?

Michael: I need to start by saying that there is no excuse for what I did on stage the other night, Dave. What I said was wrong, and I'm. . .I'm ashamed and sorry for the hurt I caused to anyone who witnessed it either there or later on the internet.

Dave: Sounds like you had some trouble with hecklers.

Michael: Hecklers are part of stand-up comedy, and no matter what they say, it's the job of the comic to keep his or her cool, and I didn't.

Dave: You has some rough words for them.

Michael: You can hear a lot of rough language in comedy clubs, but what I said went over the line. I lost my cool and in my anger my judgment failed me and I said some very mean, insulting and racist things to people who had paid good money to be there. They didn't deserve it, I didn't intend it, but it happened and I'm profoundly sorry.

Dave: So what's next for you?

Michael: What's next? I need to take some time to understand where those words came from in me. Racism is ignorant, it's hurtful, and I don't want it to be part of my life. I know what's funny, and racism isn't funny, and I just hope that after I've had a chance to reflect on this awful mistake that people will give me another chance to show them that I've learned from this.

(Applause)

Jerry: We're with you on this, Michael.

Michael: Thanks, Jerry.

Jerry: (smiles knowingly but a little painfully)

Dave: Well good luck, Michael, and thanks for being so open with us.

Micheae: Thank you, Dave, and I'm sorry we had to talk about this instead of all the other good things going on right now.

Dave: We'll save those until next time. Michael Richards, ladies and gentlemen.

(Applause)

travel: bc on the road part 3b

Back in London on November 11th, after the 2 minutes of silence at 11am I spent an hour in Westminster Abbey. Curiously the most moving part of my walking tour was a few moments spent in "Poets' Corner" over the memorial to T.S. Eliot, which read: "The communication of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living."


I walked up Whitehall to the Centopath, where a massive ceremony would be held the next day. From there, I passed through the arch in the Horse Guard's Barracks, around the back up to the Mall then east through the Admiralty Arch up to Trafalgar Square, then on to Charing Cross Road and the bookstores.

Yes, I managed to find a terrific lunch - English bacon, melted mozzarella, basil and grilled tomato(e) on cibatta bread.

Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed the used and new bookstores.

Yes, I managed to scalp a ticket to Spamalot at the Palace Theatre. Long story.

I wandered up Regents Street to Oxford Street, meandered down through Soho, had a pretty decent dinner then took the tube back to Notting Hill from the Embankment station. After a bottle of wine, Trafalgar Square at night is a bit surreal.

Sunday dawned clear and cool - I can safely report that the Portobello Road is mostly crap, that Kensington High Street is entirely crap, and that Kensington Park is entirely lovely. Dinner at the Sun in Splendour pub was marvelous, then to sleep in advance of the push to Munich on Monday.

Incidentally, if anyone offers you a beer called Fruli, be prepared for something entirely odd.

Of my trip to Munich, there is not much to report. I got there at night - had the fastest cab ride of my life (180kph at one point care of a spiky-haired kid with an itchy radio station changing habit), then a single-night stay at the Hotel Dorint Sofitel Bayerpost, a modern hotel that I had no opportunity to explore.

After the speech on Tuesday morning and a quick lunch, it was back to the airport. I can happily report that the Munich airport has some terrific shopping, including a Fabriano Boutique dedicated to spectacular hand-made Italian paper and other stationery.

A fast Lufthansa hop to Charles de Gaulle airport. . .then the best part of the trip. From the short post I lodged early last week, you can tell how I feel about Paris. I'll write about that experience tomorrow.

(By this time, my little Clairefontaine notebook was getting stuffed with map fragments, receipts, restaurant "cartes du maison" and other bric-a-brac. My passport was wrinked from travelling in the breast pocket of my coat for a week. My jeans were ready to walk off and throw themselves in front of a train. I had done three cities in 24 hours, was losing my voice, and had serious concerns about my ability to get my French back. I was down to my last pair of clean underwear, was out of shirts, and had managed to lose three socks - all from separate pairs. Travel is fun.)

travel: bc on the road interlude

I've arrived in my third European city in 24 hours - London Monday morning, Munich Monday night, now Paris Tuesday night. The city is as I remember it - luminous, chaotic, extraordinarily alive.

I lived here from 1978 to 1981 - a lifetime ago by any account - but from the moment I saw Sacre Coeur from the north as we zoomed at 30kph along the peripherique de l'ouest, I felt at home again.

I'll get back to describing my adventures in London another day.

travel: bc on the road part 3a

For Some Odd Reason, the wireless connection at the Lennox Hotel in Pembridge Gardens did not permit access to Blogger. The BT Access Point at Heathrow, however, does - and so here I am, capturing for you, my dear reader, some details of what amounted to quite the unusual collection of experiences.

When last I wrote, I was at TechEd in Barcelona. That evening my colleagues and I took the subway into the heart of Barcelona - the Ramblas - a vast pedestrian thoroughfare with narrow car lanes on each side bordering shops and restaurants and whatnot. For some reason, there were no fewer than eight open-air pet shops - apparently the good citizens of Barcelona make their bird and fish and small amphibian purchases when out for a stroll.

The entire area was a tourist trap, to my eyes at least, so we wandered off the main drag to side streets where we identified a small tapas bar. Tapas, for those of you who may not be familiar with the concept - is literally a "small portion" of food, best consumed with copious quantities of alcohol. The three of us enjoyed about a half-dozen such portions, including a ramekin of flaming chorizo, a selection of cured sausage, ham, cubes of baked potato in a garlic aoli, triangular wedges of cheese, a plate of white and dark anchovies, all accompanied by wedges of toast rubbed with tomato and drizzled with olive oil. The wine was a 2003 Castroviejo Rioja "Crianza", about 12 euros a bottle. I know if I ever manage to find it again, it won't taste anywhere near as wonderful.

Interested parties may inquire privately about the end of this particular evening, which involved a small Australian bar, a drunk Liverpudlian (Andy) and his even drunker father-in-law ("Sir" Joe) and a few cautionary notes about how to move quickly when the younger Liverpudlian leaves in haste to pick a fight with a flowerseller of middle-eastern descent. To give you an idea of the level of discourse we enjoyed with these two gentlemen, consider the following:

Joe: Bob?

Bob: Sir?

Joe: (momentarily flummoxed at being called 'sir') Care to show me your ring?

All In Earshot of British Descent: (uproarious laughter)

Bob: Here. (shows ring on left hand)

Joe: Not that one.

All In Earshot of British Descent: (more uproarious laughter)

Adrian (co-worker): That was funny.

Bob: Oh. It's a euphemism.

Adrian: (nods)

Joe: You-fee-what?

Bob: Sir, just so I understand you, am I to understand that rather than asking me to show you an article of jewelry on my hand, you in fact asked me to show you - here in this bar - my anus. Is that correct?

Joe: (straight-faced) Yes.

Bob: Then you'd better start buying me drinks, Joe.

All In Earshot of British Descent: (even more uproarious laughter)

The next day was more TechEd - which was an unparalleled joy, I'll have you know - then that evening we popped over to see Gaudi's fabulously odd Sacrada Famiglia cathedral, which looks a lot like a perfectly good cathedral that's gotten a bad case of stone fungus. The tapas that evening wasn't quite as remarkable as the night before, but I didn manage to finally have some fish tapas - more notably a plate of flash-fried whitebait - whole tiny fish curled and pop-eyed (and delicious).

Friday was a travel day. On my cab ride out of Barcelona, I was struck by just how much construction is underway across the city. I've never seen more urban renewal in my life - everywhere cranes, concrete, scaffolding and the ever-present sound of jackhammers.

I took the Heathrow Express into Paddington, cabbed to the Lennox, then went off to find a Decent Curry. The Star of Bombay didn't disappoint with a lamb curry and a small plate of aloo gobi and padadum. That evening I experienced what was to be the only rain in my entire trip to London - a record by any measure.

Saturday dawned clear and cool, and after a moment spent considering how I'd get my laundry done, I decided my remaining clothes were not in fact "all that stinky", and set off for the heart of London via the Circle Line.

I popped out the St. James station, walked about 200 yards east along the park, then emerged to find Westminster Abbey. I had visited there in the fall of 1978 with my family, but thought I might see a few things a little differently 28 years on.

It was very crowded - for reasons I will explain.

On the grassy lawns around the north face of the Abbey were a number of enclosed "plots" defined by tiny wooden crosses; upon closer inspection, they each bore the name of a particular unit of the military and in each plot were hundreds of small wooden crosses bearing the hand-written names of the fallen.

There was even a plot for the fallen of the United States - which contained a larger wreath of red poppies in memory of the fallen of the Iraq war.

Big Ben was just beginning to chime 11am as I stepped up to enter the Abbey when I suddenly noticed that everything had gone quiet - and that no one was moving. This went on for about two minutes. . .broken by the scream of four jets overhead.

It was the eleventh hour on the eleventh day of the eleventh month, and all of London stopped to remember. When life came back to the world, I paid 50p for a poppy of my own and put it in my left lapel.

(continued)

travel: bc on the road part 2

Bright and early Monday morning I spilled out of Heathrow airport and stumbled into the Heathrow Express train to Paddington Station in London. For those of you unfamilar with it, Paddington is one of those grand old railway stations with the soaring curved roof, lots of folks wandering around, steam chuffing everywhere and the most beautiful light coming from all directions.

Standing on the block-long queue for a taxi, I met Mr. Christopher Robinson (and wife), "just back from the Argentine" where they enjoyed "the most marvelous beef, grass fed beef". I learned that Christopher - a former British Army cavalry officer - would be participating in a parade in The City come Saturday held for the new Mayor of the City. "When I pass by on my grey horse you may holler 'haloo, Christopher'." I will, I think.

The Lennox hotel was a small affair on the edge of Notting Hill (northwest side of London). After a bit of a nap I conference called until 5pm, wandered about for a few hours, then had dinner with my co-workers and Svend from B&K.

Notting Hill is a bit "bohemian" - more on that when I have more time to write.

Tuesday morning was the "event" at the very modern (and very humid) Hempel Hotel - needless to say, I love giving speeches, and this one went well. I am indebted to both Svend from B&K and Alys from IDC for their role in the event.

We caught a cab at 2pm for the Maidenhead office; I got out at Heathrow and managed to get on an earlier Iberia flight for Barcelona. . .which was late.

I rolled into Barcelona around 10:30pm, arrived at the Utell Diagonal Hotel at 11pm, got to my room and found I couldn't turn on any lights. Apparently you needed to put your cardkey in a tiny box to the right of the door to activate the room lights - a useful fact the lovely (but dull) young lady at reception could have told me.

BTW - other than The Rambler, the central bit of Barcelona - restaurants close at 11pm. So I enjoyed an expansive dinner of granola bar, peanuts, beer and a small can of Pringles then fell asleep in the Entirely Modern Room.

And now I find myself on the floor of TechEd, on break while the attendees sit in session and the vendors stare at each other. I am happy to report that Vista looks lovely. I can also report that it takes something on the order of five cups of tea to cut through a voice ruined by the beginnings of a cold. I sound like a cross between Barry White and a consumptive Fozzy Bear.

travel: bc on the road part 1

I'll be blogging "from the road" in the grand tradition of Bing Crosby and Bob Hope over the next two weeks as I criss-cross Europe with the "Unlock Hidden Revenue" seminar series.

For a product management/product marketing guy, the opportunity to travel to foreign cities under the aegis of "giver of speeches" is, frankly, a little surreal. I gave the speech I'll be presenting in London, Munich and Paris earlier this week in Boston to general acclaim - which is no guarantee that the discerning audiences of The Old World will give it the same reception.

Right now, I'm cozied up at O'Hare at gate C10 tip-typing away as Ben Roth-Liss-Burger runs his two minute drill on the overhead TV. 've been here for well on an hour already - because I'm one of those schlubs who insists on getting to the airport early. "On time" is synonymous with "late" for me.

Even when I have a long overnight flight to look forward to. And you dear reader, know how much I love overnight flights.

So I leave you with the following requests. If you have an opinion on this, let me know your recommendations on the following:

1. "Best Curry in London"
2. "Best Pint in London"
3. "Best Irish Music Seisun in London"
4. "Best Bookstore in London"

I'll be asking for feedback on Barcelona and Paris later in the week (I'm only in Munich for a day. . .not long enough to do much of anything, unfortunately).