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Parents Orientation

Gia starts preschool officially in nine days. One week from today, she begins her ‘Phase-In,’ and that same night, there’s a ‘Parents Orientation.’ This is one more affirmation that I am really a parent. I wonder how many other parents at this shindig will feel as disoriented as I feel. I still haven’t come to grips with the fact that I have offspring. In my professional life, I grapple with the feeling that I’ll be discovered as some kind of impostor, that someone someday soon will wake up and realize that I know absolutely nothing. I’ve expressed this to some of my associates, and happily, they’ve laughed at me, so for now, the snow job continues. What will it be like when I’m surrounded by a bunch of other parents, at a very parent-focused event? I’ve been around parents before. I even had parents myself. What’s the story here? Why the apprehension? I don’t even have long hair any more, so there’s even less reason for people to look at me like I’m some kind of freak. Really, I’m looking forward to the experience. It’s all part of my big experiment in adulthood. I’m trying to remain very selective with it though. Wouldn’t want to be an adult all the time. What a waste of time that would be. I can see how my kids look at me when I even try. They know better, much better. They are both much wiser than I ever was.

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How to Pay to Sleep on the Job

I’ve been pushing the siesta concept for years. Looks like these people are capitalizing on it. (Goodbye, yet another window of entrepreneurial opportunity for yours truly.) Their website even has a nifty little graph which supposedly illustrates how ‘Cognitive Performance Deteriorates Without Naps.’

Hypnotic Cognitive Performance Graph

The graph is nifty, I think, because at first glance, I have no idea what it’s showing me. I’ve even looked at it two or three times. Still I have no clue. I see a couple of lines and numbers and dots there, and there’s some kind of footnote saying where these statistics came from. There’s even Sara Mednick, I mean DOCTOR Sara Mednick, who has a PhD or something from some prestigious college somewhere, who supposedly did studies, and I guess she looks nice enough based on her picture, and the website people say her college was prestigious, and I’m sure her parents or someone was proud when she got that PhD from, oh wait, HARVARD, and I’m getting dizzy because I’m so delirious from not having a nap today that their nifty graph is making me stare into it, deeper, deeper, your eyes are getting sleepy, deeper, deeper, thank you Sara Mednick, thank you so much for spending time and lots of money scientifically researching something that the rest of the world didn’t need a college to tell them, and now things are coming around full circle, just like doctors prescribing Yoga, that’s it, I’m going back to school to study… ummm… ZZZZZZZZZZZ

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Happy 40th Birthday

Happy 40th Birthday

Turned 40 last week. Today’s 40 is yesterday’s 20, or something like that. I feel pretty good aside from the general malaise, which is also a good thing, I think. Self reflection is inevitable at this point. Maybe it’s not inevitable, but here it is. I’m reflecting. Crain’s NY Business Magazine, which I often read because it’s left on the bathroom floor at work, has its “Forty Under 40″ piece listing those wildly successful “Under 40″ people who, we would assume, have managed to make boatloads of money and earned the respect of the community and gobbled up millions of acres of prime real estate and have the words “Chief” and “Officer” in their titles. I’ll have to put Made it into the Crain’s ‘Forty Under 40′ on my list of things I didn’t do before I was 40. Thankfully, it wasn’t one of my life’s ambitions. On the other list, however, I’m finding there are some truly great things. Here they are, in no particular order:

  • Got married
  • Became a dad… TWICE!!
  • Bought my first house
  • Got a real estate license
  • Got a college degree
  • Took the LSAT
  • Played music onstage

OK, so it’s not exactly a comprehensive list, but it’ll have to do for now. I’ve got to go make plans. There’s plenty to do before I turn… 40 1/2.

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Home Improvements

We needed to fix the bathroom. Gia ripped the soapdish out of the wall a month or so ago, and since then, it’s been patched up with duct tape and a plastic trash bag. Shortly thereafter, we found a flyer in the mail advertising one of those one-shot, shower/tub shell deals, so we decided to give it a try. The owner of the place showed up last Saturday to give his shpiel. We liked him. He made the sale. They were due this morning.

Nikki called me after I got to the office. She was there with Jose, the one guy they sent to do the job. When he started pulling down tiles, it became apparent that the job was going to be a little more complicated. I asked her if Jose was panicking. I heard her ask him, “Are you panicking?”

“Yes, I’m Spanish,” he replied.

Turns out Jose did a great job. Of course, it rained all day, so he had to do his sawing and bending and whatever else in our living room, so Nikki’s busy cleaning up toxic dust right now. We’ll also have to fix the brand new gaping hole in our outside wall before a rainstorm comes and… well, I won’t know that until I get home. It was Jose’s first week, so he probably worked extra hard to make a good impression, so at least we have that going for us. That, and the fact that the house hasn’t caved in. I guess we still have a bathroom, so that’s also a plus.

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Coming Up: Preschool

Gia is starting preschool in a few weeks. We also found a daycare center right around the corner from our house. I know it’s all for the best. There’s still a part of me that gets choked up thinking of her not being with us for any length of time. It’s got to be a control issue. We have a decent degree of control over her environment right now. She’s safe. She’s with us. The world can be a harsh place, and I want her never to have to be exposed to its harsh side. I want her to be all cuddly and cozy forever. As much as I’m repulsed by the images of spoiled rich celebrity kids all over the media these days, I can understand the motivation behind spoiling them. It’s a natural impulse, at least for me. I just wish Gia was a black belt already. That might put me at ease. Anyway, Gia needs to get out and socialize with some kids her age. I think they’re too young to be intentionally cruel to each other. Isn’t that a few years away? I’m not sure anymore. I keep hearing that kids are maturing much earlier these days. This doesn’t make sense to me. If we’re living longer, shouldn’t we be maturing later?

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Curse of the Blackberry

An associate of mine spent two hours one morning being pissed off. These were a couple of hours which began with a mere minute of checking e-mail first thing, one of the most routine of daily activities. There it was, sitting there: the vague one liner. The sender of this e-mail was not around to explain what it was all about. So, thanks to the wonders of the human imagination, it festered. It caused stress. It painted a person’s entire day a nasty shade. Of course, when the sender showed up, it turned out there was nothing to be stressed about after all. In fact, the entire subject was dismissed with barely even a hand gesture. The power of the e-mail has rarely been more apparent to me. I’ve spent plenty of time myself simmering about this kind of thing, but witnessing firsthand someone else’s stress really brought the point home. Nothing worse than those sentence fragments. The least you can do when you’re abandoning the rules of grammar is make some effort to spell correctly. Now, let’s do some math. Take those two hours of stress caused by four short words (not counting the mangled punctuation) and multiply that by everyone who has made the unfortunate decision to join the legions of Blackberry users.

Apparently, this guy seems to agree with me. He’s even backed his point of view up with some links to statistics. He calls his lecture “7 Reasons the 21st Century is Making You Miserable”, and from what I gather, he blames the Internet for a lot of the misery. I think he’s onto something. For a long time now, I’ve felt e-mail is one of the most overused and abused forms of communication. It’s great for some things, like getting back in touch with long lost family and friends, but it’s a poor substitute for face to face discussion. The fact is, most communication occurs with non-verbal cues. With e-mail (and text messaging, for that matter), we’re restricted to only the words we see. It’s all too easy to misinterpret these words, especially if we want to misinterpret them. An aggravated person can have a field day. Considering how reliant we are on e-mail in day-to-day business, it’s amazing to me that there’s not far more e-mail related violence in the workplace.

I’ve used e-mail and instant messaging in one form or another for years now. I try to be extra sensitive to people who are on the receiving end of my e-mails. That means an extra word or sentence here and there to at least attempt to make things clear. Unfortunately, this can have a negative effect when someone’s trying to read your long-winded e-mail from a Blackberry. I’m always tempted to make my e-mails twice as long to further drive home the point that Blackberries are inherently wrong, but I resist this urge. It’s all about being considerate.

I also use instant messaging. I’ve been told on more than one occasion that people get intimidated by my instant messages because I type so fast and tend to be critical about things like spelling and grammar. So, not only have I managed to intimidate people when we’re face to face, I can actually freak people out with my typing ability and stunning command of the English language. Oh well. I also avoid using all those cutesy abbreviations and smiley faces like LOL and :), all except for WTF. I like that one a lot. Blackberries. WTF.

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Flash Training for Beginners

I was out taking a training class the past two days. It was a beginner’s class in Flash MX 2004 Professional.

I took it because the graphic designer working with me wanted to take it. I’ve taken this class before, for the prior version of the software, Flash MX. In fact, I’ve taken more than one Flash class before.The first Flash class I took was an advanced class almost five years ago, which was by far my favorite, since it was taught by some young entrepreneur guy who sent out a mass e-mail as an “experiment” (his words) advertising this particular class. It’s still a mystery to me how he managed to get a mailing list with my name on it, since I’ve always been very selective about giving out this particular e-mail address. Regardless, that class was great primarily because whatever the course curriculum was, we more or less abandoned it. It helped that I happened to be obsessed with Flash at the time, and it really seemed to be the hot thing. I had already gotten my feet wet with it, so I opted to go straight for the advanced material. The class consisted of three people: the instructor, myself and the president of a design firm who was taking the class to learn how to better manage his developers. Good call. We ended up discussing all sorts of interesting real-life subjects, most of which were not even remotely related to Flash. I left that class feeling truly inspired.

A couple of years later, some associates of mine registered for an introductory Flash class, mainly so they could get up to speed and collaborate with me. I decided to tag along and see what they were being taught. This class was being offered by a more established organization, rather than one guy masquerading as an established corporate training center. The instructor seemed like a pretty cool guy, definitely knowledgeable, willing and able to answer more advanced questions without veering too far off course. I had a couple of issues with the approach taken at the time, which I brought up. He acknowledged those issues fairly. The fact is, Flash could be used for great things, provided people are exposed to the real power behind it, which, let’s face it, lies with scripting (rather, PROGRAMMING). Sure, the concept could easily scare some people off, unless it’s approached gently. However, avoiding the subject, I feel, is a crime. The result is a bunch of people playing with an expensive new toy to do simple animation.

This last class was also being offered by an established training center. It’s very well known in this region, so much so that it’s virtually synonymous with ‘training.’ Ask anyone around here if they’ve attended or would consider attending outside computer training, and the response is very likely to contain references to this place. This was my first real exposure to it. I won’t mention the name of the organization, as it might very well fill a need. In fact, I’m an avid supporter of ongoing training. Attending any sort of elective training immediately puts you in the very small percentage of people that takes any initiative whatsoever. So, I say, go for it. Lousy training is better than no training… usually. (I’m sure there are times when the opposite is true, but most of the time, I think the very act of opting for training is beneficial.) This instructor was much more by-the-book. Not once did he ask who anyone was, why they were there, nothing. In all fairness, I believe part of the problem lies in the software itself. I mean, it’s called “Flash MX 2004 Professional.” As if life isn’t confusing enough, Flash now comes in all sorts of flavors, each with its own subset of features. I’m pretty sure Flash MX 2004 Professional is the version with all of the features, but I don’t really care enough to look into it at this point. I’m hoping that with Adobe’s acquisition of Macromedia, a little housecleaning will take place, and they’ll do something to straighten out the confusion, because right now, I’m not the least bit inspired to get back into Flash. Something seriously groundbreaking will have to take place to change my mind.

I asked the guy sitting next to me in the class what his deal was. He was busy sketching (on paper, not on his computer) an action figure, which he showed to me. It looked pretty good. It’s some character which is supposed to appear in some cartoon they’re planning on submitting to… whoever. He went on about how it’s really tough to draw a character in this particular position, since he’s supposed to be a superhero, and he doesn’t really have his chest all puffed out, he’s just kind of, you know, leaning back a little, sort of hunched over. I asked the guy where he worked. “I’m freelancing right now.” Images of his bedroom in the attic of his mom’s house wallpapered with Korn posters flew through my head. I asked him why he was taking this class. “I’ve been using Dreamweaver for a while now, so I figured I could build Flash websites.” Great. Just what we need, more websites that only people with high bandwidth connections and the latest Flash-enabled browsers could look at. Guaranteed that a couple of months from now, that website will be up there, complete with our superhero plastered all over it, still trying to fix his posture. Not once did the instructor try to discuss the logic (or lack of it) of getting into Flash with the intention of building full-blown websites with it. Our artist friend is probably hard at work right now, hung over from a rave, frantically trying to figure out how to make hyperlinks or something, getting really frustrated because those designer drugs wore off without releasing the part of his brain he needs to wake up and realize he’s wasting his precious youth holed up in his mom’s house. Another victim of Dreamweaver, yet another tool which has been terribly abused, notorious for creating a ton of extra code, meaning larger files, meaning pages which take longer to load. Sure, it makes it real easy to build basic websites. Too easy. Now there are tons of clowns building nasty, unmanageable websites. Just like Photoshop and Illustrator turned a bunch of spoiled rich computer nerds into so-called graphic designers, we can thank the Dreamweaver team in part for the proliferation of garbage out there on the Internet. Maybe it’s time to issue licenses to people who want to do certain things on their computers. Not software licenses, mind you, but operator’s licenses. You need one to drive a car, you should absolutely need one to have children, and you should need one to prevent you from polluting the Internet.

Most of the class was spent dealing with the drawing tools within Flash. Again, I’ll place part of the blame on the software. Flash has, in my opinion at least, the worst set of drawing tools imaginable. They behave unlike any drawing tools in any other graphics program. Once you learn how they work, you realize that they’re essentially worthless. I’m convinced to this day that whoever was responsible for implementing this set of drawing tools needs to undergo a comprehensive drug test and psych evaluation. Thankfully, I realized this early on, so whenever I needed to draw anything remotely complex, I used Illustrator, or something, ANYTHING, else. Importing graphics into Flash is trivial. The instructor himself acknowledged once or twice that a particular tool “shouldn’t do this, but it does,” or “I don’t know why they decided to do it this way, but that’s the way it is.” Not once did he suggest using any tool other than Flash. Of course not, since that wouldn’t fit neatly into the rigid curriculum. Instead, he spent almost the entire time trying to fit the proverbial square peg into the round hole. There were no complaints. I restrained myself, except for the occasional aggravated whisper to my graphic designer associate whenever I disagreed with the instructor’s approach. I didn’t publically assault the guy. He was just doing his job, I suppose, as soul crushing as that job might be.

We’re registered to take the next level of this class later this month, I think. Supposedly, they’ll get into scripting a little more, but I have my doubts. Maybe I’ll get to meet another batch of slacker artists with nothing better to do but draw action figures while their parents pay their rent. Sounds like a pretty good deal.

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