The virtue of limitations

I've been a bit annoyed lately with my inability to make my posts briefer and pithier. Perhaps the Powers That Be overheard. Last night I wasn't careful enough while ensuring that the honeybees in our garage are adequately fed before going into their hive later this week. I accidentally frightened one (poor lady--honeybees don't survive stinging), and have a kielbasa finger to show for it.

Yet I've surprised myself at how effectively I can still type tonight, despite having to look at the keys every time I type the letter C, D or E. And how natural it feels to use only one finger for mousing.

For all that, however, the activity is starting to bother my hand, so I will leave you with this as anecdotal evidence that you can learn to do more within constraints--and more quickly than you think.

Blue Java

As if I needed further proof that I would never survive in a cut-throat business environment, it was my husband who speculated that IBM low-balling Sun, then dropping negotiations over the weekend would strengthen Big Blue's hand when Sun's stock dropped Monday. Which it obligingly did.

To read the trade commentary, I'm apparently in the minority for thinking--rather radically, for me--that this merger actually makes sense from both sides. Granted, I'm not overly qualified to speculate: I spent just over two years as "vendor scum" inside IBM as a tech. writer at the end of the Lou Gerstner regime. I'll be up-front and say that--although I do care about and keep in touch with a number of folks I met there--there's not much love lost between me and "The Blue Zoo's" culture. (Though I still miss the Ritazza coffee stand and the cafeteria's chili and their beef and barley soup. Those all rocked.)

Let it also be noted that Java is my hands-down favorite language because Sun made it easy to use their language with decent documentation of the APIs and helpful tutorials. Plus they gave away the tools--which was pretty darned revolutionary Back In The Day. I used my HTML editor plus the command line as a Java IDE for a few years, actually...and didn't feel in the least "deprived" doing so.

So I'm surprised not to find more cognitive dissonance in my brain over the prospect of Big Blue assimilating Sun and letting loose their slimy battalions of bean-counters and patent lawyers on the not-inconsiderable IP portfolio. Mainly because Sun so obviously needs to be saved from itself, to learn how to monetize again. Sam Palmisano, the current suzerain of IBM, made his name selling services, not hardware or software. That's critical. And, for love of Pete, someone needs to take Scott McNealy and Jonathan Schwartz out behind the garage and shoot--errrr...what I mean is...ummm...give them to a nice farm family. Yeah. Farm family.

Ahem.

Also, significantly, IBM has been heavily into the Java space for a decade; in UNIX longer still. And, for all I diss on their patent lawyers, IBM shows every sign of understanding the software development ecosystem in a way that Microsoft and Adobe, IMO, quite emphatically do not. Culturally, Sun and IBM seem to have a weakness for "trophy geeks," which is likewise important for assimilation. (Woe betide you if you belong to a lesser caste, but that's another story...)

So I'll stick my neck out and declare myself fairly sanguine about an IBM absorption of Sun. If the acquisition founders, my money's on it being the decision of Sun. Not the decision IBM and most certainly not the result any antitrust paranoia.

Game-changers

December before last, I was--for about the first (and possibly only) time in my life--the "cool" kid on the block when I picked up one of the first-generation Eee PCs. I brought it out at the Linux User's Group meeting and someone insisted that I put it alongside the OLPC that Frank had just scored through their "Give one, get one" donation push. People--meaning guys who have forgotten more about networking and Linux/UNIX than I will ever know--cooed over the wee ones like they were new babies. It was hilarious.

This week I'll be upgrading to a 901 Eee for more screen real estate, longer battery life, and Ubuntu (rather than Xandros or Windows XP Home) for the operating system. (Epic props to Mom for the suggestion of donating the original one to a shelter.)

But, dear me, how the laptop landscape has changed in a mere eighteen months! The work "netbook" is in cant use now that other companies--besides Asus--got the memo that it was possible to build a lean, durable mini-notebook that didn't put frugal people like me into cardiac arrest with the price tag. Okay, cardiac arrest is an exaggeration, but when my co-worker told me how much he'd paid for his itty-bitty Sony Vaio, my eyes bugged. Seriously--you could almost hear the cartoon "Ah-OOooo-GAH!!!" sound effect.

But isn't it...interesting...how quickly competing models came out of the woodwork after years of scoffing at the OLPC concept? (Yes, I know that OLPC still hasn't achieved a $100 model. Keep your wig on: Inevitability takes time.)

Now we just need the equivalent clue-bomb to hit the auto and home energy industries. In the former case, there is already Mercedes-Benz's "smart fortwo," Toyota's "IQ," the Tata Motors' $2000 "Nano," and at least one more micro-vehicle whose company and name refuse to come to mind. (Sadly, the legendary Volkswagen Beetle--the greatest car ever made, IMO--was re-invented as a Yuppie-mobile travesty, so it doesn't count. Certainly not at 20/29 MPG in this day and age--it should run on three rubber bands and a hamster in a wheel, fer cryin' in yer beer...)

But I digress.

The point is that the game-changers will, probably more often than not, be born during times of stress or severe constraint--e.g. sulfa drugs, rocket science, ramen noodles, machine guns, nylon, webmail and so on. If you can ally scarcity and creativity...man, you are sooooo ahead of the folks who think that the answer to failure is doing more of the same.

Update, 10:22 PM: More game-changers, courtesy of CNN Money.

Don't shoot the questioner

Where I work, our alpha- and beta- and gamma-geeks have the bad habit of penalizing people for asking their assistance in debugging. The penalty is the impatiently-phrased question: "Why did you do it that way?" Worse, the question may well not even apply to the problem at hand.

I know for a fact that I'm not the only programmer on staff who would prefer to spend inordinate amounts of time Googling and experimenting to avoid those seven words (or, more aptly, the tone behind them). The upshot is that hundreds, if not thousands of dollars are wasted in one smallish office. In that light, is super-smart really worth the price if it comes packaged with that attitude?

Please don't make the mistake of thinking that this problem is limited to programmers. I've seen it elsewhere, from people who definitely do not meet the alpha-geek stereotype. So the next time someone comes to you for your assistance, please pay attention to how you help solve their problem. Because shooting the questioner is just as counter-productive as shooting the proverbial messenger in any organization. The organization will pay the price.

The recession in the trust economy

Apart from the tangible miseries that can be laid at the feet of unemployment rates at quarter-century highs, another casualty is the erosion of trust. This recession's particularly bad by simple virtue of the vices of avarice and gluttony that triggered it. With the bar thus lowered, you see the bottom-feeders slithering out from under their rocks to fight over the scraps.

And the new lows are rather depressing, particularly as I cleaned out my spam-box today. Why would I (who am female) be emailing myself promises of enlarging, er, appendages I don't actually have? Facebook ads, likewise: Why would my confidence in a teeth-whitener or wrinkle-remover be boosted by the fact that it was "discovered by a mom?" Grant you, my Mom has a biology degree and did great gobs of Chemistry coursework in the process. But neither qualifies her to mix up any wonder cream in the kitchen sink. Or the out-and-out sleazeballs like the folks who tried to make my browser look like a free Windows application scanning my hard drive for viruses. Very convincing stuff...except for the fact that I'm running Ubuntu.

Today's blog post from the always-fantabulous Seth Godin delves into this better than I ever could. But I actually think he's too modest with that last paragraph. America's been living in fear for over seven years (for reasons both reasonable as well as the confection of demagogues who never waste a crisis). The institutions--businesses, non-profits, public institutions--that earn our collective trust stand to make leapfrog gains in the next several years. Sure, the sleazemeisters will never run short of gullible people. All the same, we (meaning America and friends) are in a place we haven't been for at least a generation. Those who realize that and act accordingly will be in commanding positions--be it in terms of money, influence or thought-leadership--for quite some time.

Who's standing over your shoulder?

A few stories to show where I'm headed with that question.

Mom was--still is--old school in some ways, one of them being that we were taught not to address anyone by her or his first name until given permission to do so. Mom lives two hours away, but Misters and Mizzes and Missuses still abound in my universe--despite the fact that I'm personally weirded-out when addressed as "Ms. Clemons." (What? Y'mean somebody mistook me for an adult???)

In the sixth grade, Mrs. Reinhart lined us up like soldiers at reveille and drilled us in making formal introductions. (In case she didn't get to you, it's "Person A, may I present Person B? Person B, this is Person A." When the genders are heterogeneous, Person A is the female. When homogeneous, Person A is the eldest of the two. Got it now? Good.)

When writing and editing (in general), the essence of Dr. Doherty stands at one shoulder, inverting and pruning passive grammar to make it vibrantly active, ruthlessly bi- and trisecting run-on sentences and so on. When I write/edit technical material, Cheryl is at my other shoulder, helping me leaven the professional tone with a variety in phrasing that keeps the reader engaged, rather than insulted by cut-and-paste boilerplate verbiage.

Several years ago, I had to pare down a carefully timed and rehearsed presentation with next to no notice before I had to present to a hundred or so co-workers. That rattled my nerves enough that I started speaking with (horrors!) my hands behind my back. In the several long seconds it took to get back to my comfort zone, part of my brain was freaking out: "Bucky's gonna kill me...Bucky's gonna kill me...Bucky's gonna kill me..." "Bucky" being my mentor on the speech team my Freshman year of college.

So, the question for you, reader, is: Whose instruction/guidance lives on inside you to the point where it's become habit? Reflex, even? Doctor Warloski, from a history class twenty-odd years ago, taps me on the shoulder to insist that I add the all-important "And why?".

Useful drudgery

My first favorite computer-related pastime involved "making pictures," as we said in my Upper Midwestern '70s childhood. Initially, it was crayon-coloring on the punch-cards Mom brought home from work. Then, in the early '80s, it was making Christmas trees with *s for the foliage and @s for the ornaments and ||s for the trunk and so on. One of my first software purchases was a shareware drawing program (on five-and-a-quarter-inch floppies) for my 8088 in the early '90s.

So there's more than a bit of irony in the fact that graphics programs in the '00s intimidate the living daylights out of me.

Nevertheless, I've achieved enough detente with The Gimp that tonight I'm more or less capably massaging freeware images for the final project of my games programming class. It's boring as all get-out. But that's okay--it's been a more-stressful-than-usual day at work, and the tedium is actually kind of soothing. I can do just enough of it on auto-pilot that the major design aspects of the game will stay at a slow simmer on the proverbial back burner in the meanwhile.

And, via this navel-gazing route, I come to a point where I wonder why people (who can afford it) reflexively outsource drudgery. Sure, I could afford to pay a graphic artist, but tonight I'm in a head-space where I can coast without What-I-Should-Be-Doing looming in my rear view mirror. That's a luxury of sorts. I think I remember Agatha Christie writing that the best time for "plotting" was when she was doing the dishes. I can appreciate the sentiment.

So the takeaway tuppence I'll offer is this: Save enough drudgery for yourself. I believe that, nine times of ten, you'll actually be more efficient in the long run.