“And now, let’s go to Ollie Williams with the weather.”

It was 55 Degrees on Sunday afternoon, with detectable humidity in the air.

By Monday morning, it was 1, with a wind chill of -25.  There were reports of thundersnow in the foothills to our east.  Last night it was -5 or so.

Along the way, I learned a few things:

• If you soak a t-shirt and leave it outside in such weather, it will freeze solid in 90 seconds.
• A garage door can flash-freeze to the concrete beneath it, requiring a sharpened spade shovel to dislodge.
• Boiling hot water thrown into the air becomes a cloud of steam.
• A cup of regular water thrown up into the air will freeze and thud onto the ground.
• A 15 year old Camry will still start, but will not come to operating temperature (read: no cabin heat) on a 20 minute drive to work.
• Power steering fluid loses i
• Thermal underwear is your friend.
• I love natural gas heat.  Temp in my house has remained 70 degrees, and the upstairs & downstairs furnaces haven’t broken a sweat.
• The hawk i swerved around on the way out of my subdivision was either: (A) frozen to the ground next to the roadkill or (B) longed for the embrace of death to ease his suffering.  Either way, he wasn’t budging.

Thankful for a warm house and power that flickered but remained on throughout the event.

How is Ford still alive?  If I look back even 10 years ago, Ford seemed to be completely on the ropes.  Let’s take a look, shall we?

Ford’s 2004 product line:

• Crown Victoria: Chevy ceded the Police/Fleet market to Ford when it killed the Caprice in 1996.  That’s the only reason this relic was still being sold.  It had a boat-anchor 4.6L Mod motor pushing out barely over 235 hp and a gas tank that could kill you in a rear-end accident.
• E150/E250 Econoline.  Same mod-motors but terrible transmissions.  Still, they were the cheapest boxes on wheels to carry stuff, so they endured, getting 12 mpg lumbering in the slow lane dropping transmissions along the way.
• Escape CUV.  Reasonable little trucklet, but an also-ran compared to the RAV4/CR-V that dominated.
• Expedition.  The best large SUV ever made, overseen by John Krafcik, including an independent rear suspension.  Krafcik would go on to bigger things.  The Expedition would not; SUV sales were beginning to tank as a decade of higher gas prices and recession (culminating in 2008’s Financial Crisis) set-in.  Still saddled with the mod-motor lump, but good package otherwise.
• Explorer.  The Explorer never recovered from the rollover debacle in at the turn of the millenium.  People finally wised-up that they didn’t need an ungainly, thirsty vehicle to carry 4 people and stuff.  (They’d like an ungainly vehicle that wasn’t thirsty, and that’s how we got the CUV.)  Ford rode the Explorer much too long before trying to find a replacement.
• Ford Explorer Sport Trac:  It’s an automotive mullet.  Business in the front (Explorer), party in the back (F-150).  Handled about as well as you’d think it would given those Frankenstein origins. 
• The F-150.  It’s a testament to the innate goodness of these trucks that an effeminate redesign (1996) and a truly underpowered set of motors (yep 1996, too) couldn’t dislodge it from selling like beer in a college town.  Well, that…and an incredibly loyal customer base, the crushing ineptitude of GM, and the perennial also-ran status of everyone else.  But, that’s another story for another day.  The F-150 carried Ford, and still does.
• The Focus.  Ah, the remnant of Jac Nasser’s “World Ford” initiative of the 90’s.  Auspiciously the same car they got in Europe, but less reliable and cheaper.  Increasingly uncompetitive with a flock of Koreans, and it couldn’t touch the Corolla or Civic for refinement or reliability.  See a theme here?  “Also ran.”
• The Freestar.  Ah, mini-vans.  They used to make those, didn’t they?   Freestar was a barely redone Windstar, a van that couldn’t compete with Chrysler, let alone the contemporary Sienna and Odyssey.  Granted, it could hold 8 in relative comfort.  Too bad it couldn’t hold transmission or head gasket integrity.   Another convenient Ford theme:  Awful motors.
• Mustang.  The last hurrah of the Fox body Mustang.  Or, if you like, the 26th (!) year of a platform that dated back to the Ford Fairmont in 1978.  
• Ranger.  The 3.0 V6 in there powered the Taurus.  The ORIGINAL Taurus.  “Fresh” from its redesign in 1996 (!), the Ranger would ironically be the 2nd best compact pickup you could buy until its demise because the factory tooling simply forgot how to make something so old.
• The Ford Taurus.  Yes, really…this refugee from the Ovoid disaster of 1996 was still being sold and tried to compete with the new Accord and Camry.  Aside from interior space, the it was painfully out of date, and its Duratec 3.0L was underpowered, comparatively thirsty, and unreliable.
• Thunderbird.  It was ugly, slow, thirsty, pricey, and stemmed from the compromised DEW98 (Jaguar S-type, Lincoln LS) platform.   Another sad theme: Mediocrity.

So, there you have it.  At best, you have outdated nameplates; at worst, you have products that never should’ve existed.  If GM was dead-at-the-wheel, then Ford was surely asleep at it.  So, how did they grow and thrive through the toughest financial conditions in the last half-century?

So, Zappos announced that they’re moving their whole 1500 person organization to ‘Holacracy’.  Why?  Ironically, because of an autocratic decision by the CEO:

Last fall, while exploring ways to scale Zappos without letting bureaucracy set in, Hsieh met Brian Robertson, the founder of the management consultancy HolacracyOne. 

Ah, this is classic:  The CEO gets sold some snakeoil, the troops have to drink it.  So, what is ‘holacracy’.  Is it like ‘democracy,’ ’theocracy,’ and other terms that’ve been with us since antiquity? Nope. Some guy invented it out of whole cloth.

To Maria and Grace, my lovely daughters,

Today I learned your blood runs very deep in this country, and deep in Kentucky.  Here is your lineage:

Your father’s full name is Harold Ray Combs, born in 1978 to Harold Gene and Dottie (Haddix) Combs.

Harold Gene was born in 1953 to Bryan and Cora (McIntosh) Combs.  (We tend to say the ‘McIntosh’ part of the line is where our crazy comes from, but I’m not so sure.)

So, I broke down and took one of the online courses offered at my work on Project Management basics.  I kept hearing domain language from managers, former project managers, and true project managers from our other (non-software) function.  I wanted some info on their thoughts and methodology.

So, during that, I had a light-bulb moment:  Agile software has no project managers.

Seriously.  Back-up and read that sentence.  They don’t exist, and if that gives you the heebie-jeebies, keep reading.  If you have agile and project managers, then you’re doing it wrong, at least as nearly as I can tell.

Have an test requiring me to fast at 3pm today, so no eating for me.  CRANKY!

It occurred to me today to add-up all the time I’ve spent in the last 2 years trying to define processes.  Then I realized if I did, I’d probably become violently ill or just violent. 

My last attempt.  Seems like it should be this simple:

• Have a list of crap for people to do.  Whoever populates that list is THE BOSS, whether his/her title says so or not.  If bad stuff gets on that list and causes you to fail, that person accepts responsibility.
• Make sure someone [competent] covers each item.  In the world of fairy farts and gooseberries, he’ll choose from that list altruistically.  In the real world, someone takes a bite out of the crap sandwich and gets assigned work.
• When people don’t get their crap done, they feel consequences. If they can’t ever get their crap done satisfactorily, you fire them.
• When people do get their crap done, regularly, you promote them.  When they stop getting their crap done, you demote them and promote someone else.  (Take THAT, Peter Principle.)

I think with  the above 4 points, I’ve violated every single methodology in practice today.

A couple of things hit me tonight:  First, I’ve never written anything about my experience in Cebu last October, which is a travesty.  Second, I’ve never written anything about Dr. Who, which is near an unforgivable sin.

(Above: Billie Piper and David Tennant, the 10th Doctor)

As I was about to leave for Cebu, October 2nd 2012, I noted my wife wasn’t speaking to me.  I was about to fly halfway around the world (12 hour time difference) and leave her holding the bag:  Three kids.  New house with a mold problem.  New middle schooler. 

So, the family and I have been attending Bedford Acres since July of this year, and I’ve been consistently amazed at what service has been like.   I’ve often wondered what it would be like if revival came through past church homes.   Basically, it’d be like a regular Sunday at BACC.

And today, the curveball.

The minister gets up on stage and announces, “I’m not preaching a sermon today,” and this was the verse on the screen (1 Cor 14:29-31):

The laying-down of the phone continues to bear fruit, except at my waistline which seems to be expanding in direct proportion to my distance from having a woobie smartphone.

First up, Neal Stephenson’s tome Cryptonomicon.  While written in 2002, this epic work (1168 pages paperback, though I read the kindle edition) presaged much of headlines circa 2013:  Cryptography, the emergence of ’technocrats’ who seem to be running the world, and the importance of finding one’s humanity amid it all.

1 Cor 13, v1-3

1 If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge ; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.3 And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing.

I just want to delete my internet presence entirely.  Over 15 years since I groped around on usenet, I’m sick of it.  I’ll get over it, and I won’t do anything rash.

I’ve already shutdown my Facebook account, as of Jan 1st this year.

I’m currently the #3 contributor on our internal social network at work, but I’m tired of the inevitable running jokes that putting yourself out there entail.   Getting people to talk to one another and share ideas is incredibly difficult, and people seem to carry the same stress, ego, and polarization from their personal life into the work sphere.  Throw in some language barriers and hilarity ensues!

Forgive me, I’m recovering from learning today that Peter Egan is retiring from Road and Track.

What I’m about to write is Dharmic revenge for my actions as an 16-25 year old: Ten years on from that, I hate shopping for anything durable.   I don’t mind shopping for food, theatre tickets, or the average temporal thrill, but when it comes to something that’s going to take-up residence at my house, I’d rather not.

PostIts

Roundtable.

Sturm und Drang
You said what you believed.  You gave suggestions.  You swore too much, and called “bullshit” at least once.

Good for you.  Old, impolitic, devil-may-care you arose and you had the “tough conversation.”

George Carlin (God rest his soul) had this great bit about humanity.  From memory:

“How’s the earth doing?” people ask.  “We’re destroying the earth.”  How’s the EARTH doing?!  Earth is doing just dandy.  Four billion years and counting.  Like we’re really going to hurt the Earth.  You wanna know how the Earth is doing? Why don’t you go on down to Pompeii and ask those people frozen in place under Vesuvius.  The EARTH is doing just fine.  It’s not going anywhere….we are.  (::Wild applause::)

Here’s a huge reason why I gave up my Smartphone two weeks ago:

I see this.  Everywhere.

• You’re not at the event, you’re watching it through your phone’s viewfinder.
• You’re not interacting, you’re looking at the palm of your hand.  It’s quickly becoming normal to be ‘social’ while talking over or around a screen with 10% of your brain.
• You’re not thinking, you’re regurgitating what you can find on Youtube, Imdb, Google, or Siri.  While this information may be instantly correct, it obviates the need for you.  
• You’re not driving, you’re looking for the next point where you can zone out (straight stretch of road, stop sign, line at the drive-thru) so you can carry on whatever triviality you just hit on FB, Instragram, SMS, or whatever.

So, I took a step off the running train.  Blowback has been both expected and encountered:

So, since the first of the year, I’ve been a happy LastPass user, using the browser integrations in Chrome and Firefox.  It’s great:

• I never need to type a password –> Especially handy if you’re projecting on screen.
• I never reuse a password across sites –> Even salted, hashed password files can get compromised.
• The ‘Generate Password’ feature lets me generate an arbitrary length password of arbitrary complexity–> Not vulnerable to dictionary attacks.
• You can use a neat 2-factor authentication system.

I’ve also enabled 2-factor auth wherever I can (Google Profile, Twitter, etc.).

The Dumb Phone

As my tweet stated:

Quit my smartphone cold turkey at noon.  Wonder how bad the DTs will be #addicted

One of the supreme joys of ADHD is the vulnerability you have to, well, anything that stimulates your limbic system.  Basically, early in the day (pre meds) and late in the day (when the meds tail off), my brain turns into this mush of neurons that’s desperate for stimulation, for something to make the cacaphony of input from visual, auditory, and sensory signals even out and make sense.  However, early and late in the day is the only time I regularly see my family.

I resolved to write down a few things to leave for my kids, some things I wished I’d heard from my parents.  This is the first of those.

My Darling Joey, Maria, and Grace,

I love each of you.  As each one of you came into my life, you taught me more and more about love, and about myself.  Joey, you taught me how to care so much it hurt, how to feel.  Maria, you taught me how something was more valuable than momentary happiness.  Grace_,_ you taught me the simple joy of fatherhood, how each child is a gift from God, and how a laugh from your beloved child is greater than any physical gift in the world. 

It’s been said, “A boat is a hole in the water you throw money into.”  Corollary: “There are two great days of owning a boat: The day you buy it and the day you sell it.”

In my experience, the same is true of houses.  A house is a hole in the ground you throw money into.  But you own the hole, so it’s okay.

Well, okay, after paying the bank 3x the purchase price over the term of a loan named after death, you own the hole.

Ah, so, Google Reader.  It’s going away in July 2013.

Yes, this is another rant decrying the shutdown of Google Reader.  However, it’s my process for working through losing the app I’ve used every day since it was announced.  I mean that.  Every. Day.

I’ve used Google Reader so long, I don’t remember what I used before it to read RSS feeds; I vaguely recall using NetNewsWire or some other installed application, but those never felt right.  Just as with email, the concept of sync’ing internet content to my PC never felt right.