IMR: Entries: 2002: January: 07 — Monday, January 07, 2002

Changes I'm heading into what promises to be a strange week. And I still feel like my post-New Year's sleep-o-meter is reading a bit low.   My old office, half cleared-out. My new (bigger) office, half moved-in. Friday's sunset as seen from work. Kona winds bring the best clouds. A young Joe Moore on a "Five-O" rerun! The episode starred John Ritter, too. Katie loves her big new dollhouse. A surprising sight on the freeway today. Steve Jobs' big news: Now you see it... Now you don't! He's got mighty fast lawyers. Much of the pending wackiness awaits at work. One of the most overt changes following the departure of my old boss is that Doris and I have to move. Now, we essentially doubled the size of our office a couple of years ago, a major office expansion in anticipation of our meeting in March of 2000. Since then, though, staff and interns have — comparably — become endangered species. The intern population always ebbs and flows, of course, but it's never been as high as it was for our Honolulu conference. Also, we've had some trouble keeping the Programs Manager slot (ostensibly one of our most important) filled, and it's been vacant since our last one just up and quit in April. And Bernice, so far one of the most amazing employees we ever had, also left (on much better terms, fortunately) last month. So in our built-out suite, we had seven separate, enclosed offices, and only four people to fill them. And Doris and I, the two assistant managers, were the only ones in the "Northern Province" — the new section, opposite ... well, everything and everyone else. For a while we enjoyed the jokes about border crossings and "reunification with the South," but someone finally realized that it was ridiculous to have a now-reduced staff so spread out. As of Friday, the "Southern Province" is empty. Doris moved into the Programs Manager office, Steve moved into Bernice's office, and I moved into Steve's. (Of course, since my move was dependent on Steve, I spent most of the day helping Steve relocate — I'll have to finish moving tomorrow.) All three of us have to get used to our new phone extensions, not to mention the new view — I suspect we'll be walking out our doors and turning in the wrong directions for a while. Once again, the catch phrase is, "Times, they are a'changing!" Only unlike last time, instead of remarking on explosive growth, it reflects a closing in, a contraction. Not neccessarily a bad thing, to be sure. Numbering ten or four, we've always been a close, tight-knit group, and having to walk fifty feet to see one another was definitely annoying. But I sure would prefer a full complement rather than hearing "change brings opportunities" as a euphemism for "doing more work for the same pay." And sometimes, there were advantages to being the furthest away from The Big Guy. And I'll definitely miss my old view. I could see King Street and the mountains in the distance and a tiny piece of the lawn of `Iolani Palace. My new office gives me front-row seats to the wild adventures on the 10th floor of American Savings Bank. Also this week in job-land, we'll be hosting our Malaysian director, who's visiting with us to do some serious work on our upcoming conference in Kuala Lumpur. Our organization is pulling this meeting together in — quite literally — one-third the time it usually has to plan (the site only came up as a possibility last August), and suffice it to say the weeks ahead will be rife with "opportunities." The fuse will be lit, in many wonderful, terrible ways, when she walks in our door on Wednesday. Oh. And we've also decided that we're going to attempt a long-overdue "spring cleaning" tomorrow. We're going in wearing jeans and T-shirts and we're going to attack the closets, abandoned filing cabinets, shelves, and other piles of paper and junk that have accumulated over the years. (Steve has called a contest to find the oldest dated document in the office.) The entire building will probably be two tons lighter by the time we're done... and we'll be walking out of it covered with paper cuts. This is also the week that Katie goes in for major dental work. Mom and I have been working overtime preparing her as best we can for what's coming Wednesday. And we're probably doing too good a job, because she continues to look forward to it. She's excited about it, actually, and occasionally asks to "go to the dentist right now." She knows she's getting her teeth fixed, and because she's been aching, she can appreciate the intent. She remembers the dentist and his staff fondly. She even knows that she'll be restrained and how ("wrapped up tight like a burrito"), that her mouth will be propped open, and that there'll be a "magic toothbrush" (I do provide a reasonable approximation of the drill sound). But, I've left out the shot (anesthetic), and the rubber mouth mask, and... Well, frankly there's no way to convey in words how unpleasant the actual experience will be. I know she'll be surprised, and terrified, and ultimately, she'll feel pain. She'll probably feel betrayed, too. And that's what I truly, truly dread. It nearly broke my heart today when she said, cheerily, "No more sugar bugs, yeah?" But I know I have to be strong. I have to keep... to keep... lying to her, I guess, for the next two days, and then I'll have to just hold her and hold her (and hold Jen) when the time comes. Especially since we'll have to go back next Wednesday to finish the job. It's been a bizarre few days on Honolulu's roads. The state — with the reluctant cooperation of the city — has implemented a "photo enforcement system" for the busiest roads on O`ahu. Manned roadside vans that photograph speeders then ticket them by mail, and automated cameras at intersections to catch red-light runners. It's been front-page news off and on for weeks now. Morning radio shows are competing to have the best phone-in "posse" to rat out where the vans are hiding, and talk shows and editorial pages are crowded with strong opinions. Watchdog groups note that the vendor doing the work gets paid for every ticket issued (versus a flat weekly or monthly rate), and that the state refuses to disclose the threshhold above the speed limit that triggers a ticket. Politicians are catching a ride, dubiously lamenting privacy infringements, arguing for crowd-pleasing restrictions on the system, or for raising speed limits. (Well, I think everyone feels 35 m.p.h. coming down the Pali is ridiculous.) The ever brilliant Sam Slom, in fact, reportedly believes that if everyone drives at the speed limit, drivers in a hurry will be more prone to road-rage, thereby making streets more dangerous. But, folks are driving slower. I've only made the town-to-Mililani commute a handful of times since the system went live, but the change is noticable. I'd end up in giant platoons (civil engineering term, there) of dozens of cars moving at an even 57 m.p.h., with few lane changes and no braking for miles. You certainly feel like you're losing time, but even mom says traffic overall moves more smoothly. Usually, you'd have folks going 50 m.p.h. on the left and 75 m.p.h. on the right and with all the weaving and dodging, you'd have a traffic jam in no time. And the range of speeds you see is less varied. When someone's speeding, they stand out. And when they tailgate and change lanes thirty times only to find absolutely no way through the pack, they look pretty silly. Of course, this is only temporary. Only while the cameras are new and the media are buzzing. Folks will soon learn the vans' hideouts and adjust accordingly, the same way they do for old-fashioned cop speedtraps. And folks will realize that the area covered is limited — I've already noticed that "Speed Limit Photo Enforced" signs suddenly disappear halfway up H-2, for example. And chaos will once again reign on our streets. I had a couple of brushes with chaos today, in fact. On the drive on H-1 into town from mom's this afternoon, as I was cresting the hill near Pearlridge, I saw way ahead of me something large and square blowing across several lanes. Cars would dodge it or brake. Sometimes it would collapse flat on the concrete, only to have a car whip over it and send it flying again. It was one of those cheap woven straw beach mats. But fortunately it wasn't in my lane. Until, that is, a pick-up truck hit it, and it whirled up into the air, and as I approached I watched in slow motion as it desended toward me. I actually chuckled, it seemed so perfect. And it landed across my windshield, exactly as you'd expect it to do in a National Lampoon movie. And I took a breath and considered panicking, as it vigourously flapped, tossing bits of straw everywhere. Fortunately, it slowly slid up, and I could see the road, and the other cars, all of which were thankfully still tooling along at the same speed. As Katie chanted, "What's that, daddy?" the mat was about to disappear onto the roof when a corner of it snagged on the sharp molding above my window. Now, the mat was flapping along the left side of the van, right next to Katie, and getting her a bit excited. So I rolled down my window, reached up, and grabbed the mat. Then I twisted and pulled to get it unhooked. Then, a split-second before simple instinct would have had me just let it go, I pulled it inside — covering myself with straw and thread. A passenger in a car that was driving alongside for most of the adventure smiled at me and nodded her head. I waved. No sooner had I picked the last bit of straw off did I see a line of brake lights ahead. As we rounded the curve toward the tunnel that connected the airport viaduct to Moanalua Freeway, everyone was merging into the right lane. I guess someone had taken the curve a bit sloppily, because there was an upside down car in the left lane. A cop was there, and as I merged, a second car roared up. It had happened only minutes before, I guess, and there was no way to tell if anyone was hurt. Whoever was driving probably didn't think much of the new cameras. It's interesting to watch a news leak unfold in real-time, even if it's of interest only to geeks. For weeks now, and especially in the last week, Apple has had its hype machine going at top speed in anticipation of the MacWorld Expo, which begins tomorrow in San Francisco. Now, Apple is famous for its super-secret surprise new product launches, and cryptic promos leading up to them, but this campaign set the bar remarkably high: "Beyond the rumor sites. Way beyond." Or: "This is big, even for us." Or: "To boldly go where no PC has gone before." Tech rumor sites — and believe it or not, there are dozens — were hopping. People were making predictions about this year's big news for months. A few days ago, geek gossiper heads nearly exploded as a German site posted video of what looked like an Apple PDA. Over time, though, the consensus on the "iWalk" was, "The best fake ever, but still a fake." With dawn breaking over California in eight hours or so, though, it seemed Steve Jobs' reknowned iron-clad vault of secrets had held. Folks would just have to show up or tune in to see "What's Next." Well, someone noticed tonight that the website of the Canadian edition of Time magazine had apparently gone live with their "exclusive" look at the Next Big Thing a good half-day early: a (frequently predicted) flat-panel reincarnation of the "iMac." (Ironically, Time blew it the same way recently in another big new product launch: Dean Kamen's "Segue." You'd think Steve Jobs would've known better.) Geeks everywhere went bonkers. I have never seen news travel faster. And everyone was predicting that as soon as someone at Apple found out, the folks at Time would get a rude midnight awakening. Sure enough, first timecanada.com went down — redirecting instead to the U.S. site. But geeks noticed the article was still accessible via the direct link, and that it even showed up — automatically, perhaps, thanks to the power of advanced content management — on the issue-by-issue archives within the U.S. site. Half an hour later, perhaps fifteen minutes ago, they disappeared, too. Now the text and photos are circulating just as quickly, though not quite as widely, as only the most confident of sites are daring to repost them publicly. Not that lawsuits would make much sense at this point — the cat's out of the bag. Now, for those who really care about this sort of stuff, Apple's just got a firm grip on its tail. As a Mac loyalist (who just presently lacks a Mac), I have to say, while the industrial design is as mold-breaking as always, I don't think a new "iMac" is going to save the company. And it certainly wasn't "beyond the rumor sites." Heck... As a guy who loved their short-lived Newton PDA, I was kind of hoping we were going to get the "iWalk" (though with a better name). We just might, of course. Who knows. Steve's a sneaky guy.

Comments Oh yeah, those traffic cameras are bad news. I was talking to some folks here on the mainland and apparently these cameras have led to quite a few contentions... all I know is, if you are pegged by one, fight it all the way. You guys don't even have a traffic school option to clear your abstract. What a bummer. —Lani (January 7, 2002 6:36 AM) Well, I hope Katie survives the dentist OK. Gosh, not even four and already needs a root canal. At least it seems your dentist is cool. My dentist when I was a kid was always a ol' curmudgeon... —Keith (January 7, 2002 9:31 AM) *sigh* I remember that burrito thing too clearly. I think the most terrifying thing from that experience was waking up wrapped up, having no one reassure me that I was going to get out of the thing, and seeing all these kids lined up burrito'ed. That aspect was the only thing I remembered. Not the pain, but being wrapped up and struggling against the velcro to get out... Bad, bad experience. I had no idea what to expect. It might have been better if mum told me the burrito thing was going to happen though I have a feeling she didn't know. —Jane (January 14, 2002 12:21 AM) E kala mai! Comments have been disabled due to overwhelming abuse by spammers. Please click through to any of the video hosting services linked above to leave a public response, or feel free to send an e-mail. Mahalo! < January 02 · January · January 16 > © 1997-2008 Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: imr@lightfantastic.org · Created: 13 November 1997 · Last Modified: 14 January 2008