NAB 2008
I used to think that the mobile industry had the most know-it-alls packed into a never ending kickline of mine is bigger than yours opinionated posturing. Au contraire. It turns out that the Broadcasting industry bests the Mobile Industry hands down.
Action Engine had a booth at the NAB 2008 (National Association of Broadcasters) show in Las Vegas this year, in their nascent “mobile universe”pavilion. Newly added to the show, the powers that be in the NAB event office queerly decided to place the pavilion smack-dab in the intersection of patch-cord vendors, RF antenna suppliers and power conditioner companies. Needlesstosay, not the best fit for a mobile applications company. Still, I love all things broadcasting and video media creation, so I jumped at the booth duty. In addition to possessing the snottiest of fanboys, I do have to give NAB props for having the best swag and coolest boothes ever.
I am better connected than I thought
Just this monday I got this in my yahoo email:
Hi, bitskrieg.
chrisgregoire (chrisgregoire) is now following your updates on Twitter.
Check out chrisgregoire’s profile here:
http://twitter.com/chrisgregoire
You may follow chrisgregoire as well by clicking on the “follow” button.
Best,
Chris Gregoire — for those who do not know — is the current governor of the state of Washington. I’ve already committed my vote to her re-election and I also work part-time on her campaign. I just find it kind of spooky that my governor is, well, “following” me.
Update: I am now also connected to Chris Gregoire on facebook!
Public Secrets
I sometimes find myself alone, walking in a crowded place, just being silent. In these moments of quiet I take a step back, stifle my inner monologue and just let things flow around me. I wouldn’t necessarily call this just people-watching — although watching people ends up being a significant enough slice of this time spent — I still walk around, window shop and try to keep any perceived leering to a minimum. I liken it to pulling up the rudder on a boat and riding the current.
Ordinarily the things I end up seeing are pretty standard fare. There are tantrum throwing children (in the range of nonage to dotage) with their attending guardians attempting immediate appeasement of some kind — plenty of these in point of fact. There are the self-absorbed, searching for something which really frames their individuality adequately, found generally in a retail setting. The absentminded are a frequent sighting. Generally it’s all banal stuff. But sometimes, just sometimes mind you, I witness a moment surprising and beautiful.
Today I was browsing around Barnes & Noble in the Pacific Place mall, running in silent mode if you will. Bookstores are almost a sure thing for soaking up hours of my time, and I needed to kill some waiting for Bill to be done with an appointment. I should note that my library at home is at a point where I stack books vertically on the shelf in an effort to economize the limited space. My ‘to read’ pile is now 10 items deep and easily as many months old. I really should be laying off the bookstores.
I walked the rows. Biography, Investments, Military History, Current Events, Islam (a section which seems to be growing rapidly, particularly in the area of ‘critiques’), I wandered past them all. I stopped for a bit in the Culture section where I saw a series of books based on the website PostSecret. PostSecret is an open art project for anyone to share a secret publicly by mailing an anonymous (usually handmade) postcard to a post office box. The postcards are scanned into an image and posted to a website for the world to see.
From I have seen on the site I can tell they range from funny notions (’I put boogers in my husband’s soup when we fight’) to secrets of terrible weight (’I knew you were being molested but kept silent so that it would not happen to me’). Reading the secrets feels incredibly intimate. I think it’s brilliant, just enough to perhaps be divinely inspired in the secrets shared.
I popped open the book, skimming the secrets shared inside. While flipping over the pages I buzzed past a torn sheet of white paper stuff pushed into the binding. I figured it was an inventory control note or just some random scrap so I flipped back to remove it. This is something of an idiosyncrasy of mine. I like my books pristine before I take them home.
What I found inside was actually a handwritten note, scrawled with tight penmanship. The lettering was smallish as if the writer were trying to hide the note from someone else. Perhaps even from himself. (I’m guessing the author was male.) This is what the note said:
We’re sitting here next to each other writing our secrets to put in this book … I hope she comes back on her own, and looks for mine…
maybe then she’ll know I love her.
And that was the moment. I carefully put the note back into its former place and returned it to the shelf. I didn’t have the heart to buy it and break the circle. I hope she comes back on her own too.
Wha?
I hate, hate, hate people who create blog posts consisting entirely of “You are a (insert an attempt-to-be-clever-term-here)” quiz results. I fear the day where it is a proud thing to be the human embodiment of Superman, an eagle, the state of Georgia or the color mauve. That is, until I found out that I was actually a despicable, monomaniacal sentient alien robot that is more-than-meets-the-eye:
I AM
69%
MEGATRONTake the Transformers Quiz
I shall endeavor not to crush my enemies, see them driven before me, and hear the lamentation of the women. I’m quoting from the masterpiece of western culture, Conan the Barbarian, but I think you get the point.
Barbie car
Just this afternoon I can now say I am the proud owner of a 2007 electric blue Mazda Miata (or “MX” in the new branding) softtop convertible. Which is to say I am now tooling about Seattle in the grown man equivalent of a Barbie Car — sans straw blonde polyethylene hair, make-it-go wired controller and dangerous levels of lead paint. (At least I think that’s the case; jury’s still out on the wired controller.) Despite the obvious jokes to be made about a 6′2, 210 pound man shoehorning himself into a gokart with zoom-zoom, I couldn’t be happier.
This is the first convertible I have ever owned and the impulse to keep that top down is immense, despite all weather indications to the contrary. I am already looking forward to braving the elements topless. Hmmm, that didn’t sound right, but I think you get the picture. Apparently you can drive in the rain with the top down so long as you’re going at a decent clip and the droplets aren’t too large. By the magic of the Bernoulli Effect the drops flow up and over the passenger compartment (laughable to call it that, you could just say ‘the two itty-bitty seats’) passing you by. The sun will be the big issue for me. I have not been in the sun regularly since my brown-as-a-berry lifeguard days, half my lifetime ago. Already the back of my neck, my cheeks and forehead, and strangely enough my forearms have the sunkissed tingle.
The interior is sparse with zero bells and whistles. Compared to the wraparound command console of the 93 Saab I just returned (manufactured by jet engineers, y’know) it’s damn near spartan in fact. Radio/CD Player, Tachonomer? Check. Instantaneous fuel consumption, multiple mileage computers, proximity alarm while backing up, a bluetooth headset to cellphone proxy, integrated OnStar and somewhat ominous Borg green backlight? Not so much. My Saab was a data addict’s dream, this Miata certainly is not. I’ll have to keep a pocket calculator somewhere in the glove compartment as well as graph paper until I’m fully detoxed.
Update: When you have a convertible, always keep a bath towel in the trunk. The first time you leave the top down and a sunburst drenches your car seat, you’ll thank me.
Another Update: If there is the slightest chance you or a passenger might get motion sickness easily, pack the Dramamine. Low to the ground, somewhat inclined, rumbly ground feel can pack a wallop unexpectedly.
Last Update: If and when you have to shop at Costco, bring the Miata. Surprise! You can’t invest in a year’s worth of toilet paper or get 96 cans of Campbell’s Hearty Soups. Not unless you’re willing to drive with them on your lap. This also goes for trips to the mall and the grocery store.