The Mote Report

AWS: Here's how you subscribe an SQS queue to an SNS topic!

2011-03-25T16:04:00.000-05:00

There's precious few code examples for subscribing an Amazon Web Services' SQS queue to an SNS topic, especially using the SDK for Java. I've finally figured it out, and this is my way of giving back to the authors of all the hints I could find around the Web. The tricky part is the queue policy; if you create it incorrectly, you won't see any error messages -- it just won't work.

The methodology is this:

Create an SNS topic.
Set a policy on the topic to allow subscriptions.
Create an SQS queue.
Set a policy on the queue to allow message posting.
Subscribe the queue to the topic.
Wait for AWS settings to propagate and "take."
Send an SNS notification message.
Listen for the message on the queue.

And here's the code:


public class SnsWithSqsDemo {
private static final Log LOG = LogFactory.getLog(SnsWithSqsDemo.class);
private static final String TOPIC_NAME = "TestTopic";
private static final String QUEUE_NAME = "TestQueue";

/**
* This program demonstrates how to hook up an AWS SQS queue to an AWS SNS
* topic to receive messages.
* 
* 1. Create an SNS topic.
* 2. Set a policy on the topic to allow subscriptions.
* 3. Create an SQS queue.
* 4. Set a policy on the queue to allow message posting.
* 5. Subscribe the queue to the topic.
* 6. Wait for AWS settings to propagate and "take."
* 7. Send an SNS notification message.
* 8. Listen for the message on the queue.
* 
* @param args not used
*/
public static void main(String[] args) {
AWSCredentials awsCredentials = null;
AmazonSNS sns = null;
AmazonSQS sqs = null;
String topicArn = null;
String queueUrl = null;
String queueArn = null;
String subscriptionArn = null;
LOG.debug("Beginning.");
try {
awsCredentials = 
new PropertiesCredentials(
SnsWithSqsDemo.class.getResourceAsStream("AwsCredentials.properties"));
sns = new AmazonSNSClient(awsCredentials);
// 1. Create a topic
System.out.println("Step 1. Create an SNS topic.");
CreateTopicResult ctResult =
sns.createTopic(new CreateTopicRequest(TOPIC_NAME));
topicArn = ctResult.getTopicArn();
System.out.println(String.format("Created topic %s with ARN %s", 
TOPIC_NAME, topicArn));
// 2. Set policy on topic to allow open subscriptions
System.out.println("Step 2. Set a policy on the topic to allow subscriptions.");
Policy snsPolicy =
new Policy().withStatements(
new Statement(Effect.Allow)
.withPrincipals(Principal.AllUsers)
.withActions(SNSActions.Subscribe));
System.out.println("Set SNS policy: " + snsPolicy.toJson());
sns.setTopicAttributes(new SetTopicAttributesRequest(
topicArn, "Policy", snsPolicy.toJson()));
// 3. Create a queue
System.out.println("Step 3. Create an SQS queue.");
sqs = new AmazonSQSClient(awsCredentials);
CreateQueueResult cqResult =
sqs.createQueue(new CreateQueueRequest(QUEUE_NAME));
queueUrl = cqResult.getQueueUrl();
System.out.println(String.format("Created queue %s with URL %s", 
QUEUE_NAME, queueUrl));
GetQueueAttributesResult queueArnResult = 
sqs.getQueueAttributes(new GetQueueAttributesRequest(queueUrl)
.withAttributeNames("QueueArn"));
queueArn = queueArnResult.getAttributes().get("QueueArn");
System.out.println("Queue ARN = " + queueArn);
// 4. Set the queue policy to allow SNS to publish messages
System.out.println("Step 4. Set a policy on the queue to allow message posting.");
Policy sqsPolicy = 
new Policy().withStatements(
new Statement(Effect.Allow)
.withPrincipals(Principal.AllUsers)
.withResources(new Resource(queueArn)) // Note: queue, not topic
.withActions(SQSActions.SendMessage)
.withConditions(
ConditionFactory.newSourceArnCondition(topicArn)));
Map queueAttributes = new HashMap();
queueAttributes.put("Policy", sqsPolicy.toJson());
sqs.setQueueAttributes(new SetQueueAttributesRequest(queueUrl, queueAttributes));
System.out.println("Set SQS policy to " + queueUrl + ": " + sqsPolicy.toJson());
// 5. Subscribe the queue to the topic 
System.out.println("Step 5. Subscribe the queue to the topic.");
SubscribeResult sResult = 
sns.subscribe(new SubscribeRequest(topicArn, "sqs", queueArn));
subscriptionArn = sResult.getSubscriptionArn();
System.out.println("Subscription ARN: " + subscriptionArn);
// 6. Wait a bit for AWS to get all synched-up
System.out.println("Step 6. Wait for AWS settings to propagate and \"take.\"");
Thread.sleep(60000L);
// 6.1. Verify queue attributes
GetQueueAttributesResult gqaResult =
sqs.getQueueAttributes(new GetQueueAttributesRequest(queueUrl)
.withAttributeNames("Policy", "QueueArn", "ApproximateNumberOfMessages"));
if (gqaResult.getAttributes().size() == 0) {
System.out.println("Queue " + QUEUE_NAME + " has no attributes");
} else {
System.out.println("Attributes for " + QUEUE_NAME);
for (String key : gqaResult.getAttributes().keySet()) {
System.out.println(String.format("\t%s = %s", 
key, gqaResult.getAttributes().get(key)));
}
}
// 6.2. Verify topic attributes
GetTopicAttributesResult gtaResult =
sns.getTopicAttributes(new GetTopicAttributesRequest(topicArn));
if (gtaResult.getAttributes().size() == 0) {
System.out.println("Topic " + TOPIC_NAME + " has no attributes");
} else {
System.out.println("Attributes for " + TOPIC_NAME);
for (String key : gtaResult.getAttributes().keySet()) {
System.out.println(String.format("\t%s = %s", 
key, gtaResult.getAttributes().get(key)));
}
}
// 6.3. Verify subscription
ListSubscriptionsByTopicResult lsbtResult =
sns.listSubscriptionsByTopic(new ListSubscriptionsByTopicRequest(topicArn));
if (lsbtResult.getSubscriptions().size() == 0) {
System.out.println("Topic " + TOPIC_NAME + " has no subscriptions.");
} else {
System.out.println("Subscriptions for " + TOPIC_NAME);
for (Subscription subscription : lsbtResult.getSubscriptions()) {
System.out.println("\t" + subscription.getProtocol() + ": " 
+ subscription.getEndpoint());
}
}
// 7. Send a notification
System.out.println("Step 7. Send an SNS notification message.");
PublishResult pResult = 
sns.publish(new PublishRequest(topicArn, 
"Mr Watson -- Come here -- I want to see you."));
System.out.println("Sent message ID = " + pResult.getMessageId());
// 8. Wait for message receipt in queue
System.out.println("Step 8. Listen for the message on the queue.");
for (int i = 0; i < 10; i++) {     Thread.sleep(2000L);     ReceiveMessageResult rmResult =      sqs.receiveMessage(new ReceiveMessageRequest(queueUrl));     if (rmResult.getMessages().size() > 0) {
// A message has been received
for (Message message : rmResult.getMessages()) {
System.out.println(message.getBody());
sqs.deleteMessage(new DeleteMessageRequest(queueUrl, 
message.getReceiptHandle()));
}
break;
} else {
// ??? Why aren't we receiving messages?
System.out.println("No messages available, attempt " + (i+1));
}
}
} catch (Exception e) {
e.printStackTrace(System.err);
} finally {
System.out.println("Shutting down...");
// Unsubscribe the queue from the topic
if (sns != null && subscriptionArn != null) {
sns.unsubscribe(new UnsubscribeRequest(subscriptionArn));
System.out.println("Unsubscribed queue from topic.");
}
// Destroy queue
if (sqs != null && queueUrl != null) {
sqs.deleteQueue(new DeleteQueueRequest(queueUrl));
System.out.println("Deleted the queue.");
sqs.shutdown();
}
// Destroy topic
if (sns != null && topicArn != null) {
sns.deleteTopic(new DeleteTopicRequest(topicArn));
System.out.println("Deleted the topic.");
sns.shutdown();
}
}
LOG.debug("Done.");
}

}

AWS: How do you subscribe an SQS queue to an SNS topic?

2011-03-24T20:41:00.000-05:00

Image via CrunchBase

If there are any AWS (Amazon Web Services) gurus out there, I'm stumped on trying to use a Simple Queue Service queue to receive notifications sent out on a Simple Notification Service topic. Any pointers?

In the code below, I'm using the AWS SDK for Java (available here). The program does the following:

Create an SNS topic.
Set a policy on the topic to allow subscriptions.
Create an SQS queue.
Set a policy on the queue to allow message posting.
Subscribe the queue to the topic.
Send an SNS notification message.
Listen for the message on the queue.

Steps 1-6 seem to work just fine, but on step 7, it listens in vain for messages. All ten iterations go by without picking up any messages on the queue. As an added note, if I subscribe an email address to the topic, messages are delivered. Only the queue appears to be bypassed when SNS sends its notifications.


public class SnsWithSqsDemo {
private static final String TOPIC_NAME = "TestTopic";
private static final String QUEUE_NAME = "TestQueue";

/**
* This program demonstrates how to hook up an AWS SQS queue to an AWS SNS
* topic to receive messages.
* 
* 1. Create an SNS topic.
* 2. Set a policy on the topic to allow subscriptions.
* 3. Create an SQS queue.
* 4. Set a policy on the queue to allow message posting.
* 5. Subscribe the queue to the topic.
* 6. Send an SNS notification message.
* 7. Listen for the message on the queue.
* 
* @param args not used
*/
public static void main(String[] args) {
AWSCredentials awsCredentials = null;
AmazonSNS sns = null;
AmazonSQS sqs = null;
String topicArn = null;
String queueUrl = null;
String queueArn = null;
String subscriptionArn = null;
try {
awsCredentials = 
new PropertiesCredentials(
SnsWithSqsDemo.class.getResourceAsStream("AwsCredentials.properties"));
sns = new AmazonSNSClient(awsCredentials);
// 1. Create a topic
CreateTopicResult ctResult =
sns.createTopic(new CreateTopicRequest(TOPIC_NAME));
topicArn = ctResult.getTopicArn();
System.out.println(String.format("Created topic %s with ARN %s", 
TOPIC_NAME, topicArn));
// 2. Set policy on topic to allow open subscriptions
Policy snsPolicy =
new Policy().withStatements(
new Statement(Effect.Allow)
.withPrincipals(Principal.AllUsers)
.withActions(SNSActions.Subscribe));
// ??? Is there no Java SDK constant for "Policy"?
sns.setTopicAttributes(new SetTopicAttributesRequest(
topicArn, "Policy", snsPolicy.toJson()));
// 3. Create a queue
sqs = new AmazonSQSClient(awsCredentials);
CreateQueueResult cqResult =
sqs.createQueue(new CreateQueueRequest(QUEUE_NAME));
queueUrl = cqResult.getQueueUrl();
System.out.println(String.format("Created queue %s with URL %s", 
QUEUE_NAME, queueUrl));
// 4. Set the queue policy to allow SNS to publish messages
Policy sqsPolicy = 
new Policy().withStatements(
new Statement(Effect.Allow)
.withPrincipals(Principal.AllUsers)
.withActions(SQSActions.SendMessage)
.withConditions(ConditionFactory.newSourceArnCondition(topicArn)));
Map queueAttributes = new HashMap();
queueAttributes.put("Policy", sqsPolicy.toJson());
sqs.setQueueAttributes(new SetQueueAttributesRequest(queueUrl, queueAttributes));
// ??? Why isn't the queue ARN in the queue attributes?
AmazonIdentityManagement idMgr = new AmazonIdentityManagementClient(awsCredentials);
String accountId = idMgr.getUser().getUser().getUserId();
queueArn = String.format("arn:aws:sqs:us-east-1:%s:%s", accountId, QUEUE_NAME);
// 5. Subscribe the queue to the topic 
SubscribeResult sResult = 
sns.subscribe(new SubscribeRequest(topicArn, "sqs", queueArn));
subscriptionArn = sResult.getSubscriptionArn();
System.out.println("Subscription ARN: " + subscriptionArn);
// 5.5. Wait a bit for AWS to get all synched-up
Thread.sleep(60000L);
// 6. Send a notification
PublishResult pResult = 
sns.publish(new PublishRequest(topicArn, 
"Mr Watson -- Come here -- I want to see you."));
System.out.println("Sent message ID = " + pResult.getMessageId());
// 7. Wait for message receipt in queue
for (int i = 0; i < 10; i++) {     Thread.sleep(2000L);     ReceiveMessageResult rmResult =      sqs.receiveMessage(new ReceiveMessageRequest(queueUrl));     if (rmResult.getMessages().size() > 0) {
// A message has been received
for (Message message : rmResult.getMessages()) {
System.out.println(message.getBody());
sqs.deleteMessage(new DeleteMessageRequest(queueUrl, 
message.getReceiptHandle()));
}
break;
} else {
System.out.println("No messages available, attempt " + (i+1));
}
}
} catch (Exception e) {
e.printStackTrace(System.err);
} finally {
// Unsubscribe the queue from the topic
if (sns != null && subscriptionArn != null) {
sns.unsubscribe(new UnsubscribeRequest(subscriptionArn));
System.out.println("Unsubscribed queue from topic.");
}
// Destroy queue
if (sqs != null && queueUrl != null) {
sqs.deleteQueue(new DeleteQueueRequest(queueUrl));
System.out.println("Deleted the queue.");
sqs.shutdown();
}
// Destroy topic
if (sns != null && topicArn != null) {
sns.deleteTopic(new DeleteTopicRequest(topicArn));
System.out.println("Deleted the topic.");
sns.shutdown();
}
}
}

}

2011: My Android Year

2011-02-19T11:53:00.000-06:00

Image via Wikipedia

Gadget journalism on the Web seems to be held to the same standard as entertainment journalism, meaning rumors, guesswork and hype make up most of my Google News alerts and Twitter feeds. But (like entertainment journalism, to those who follow it), the hype is strangely addictive. And the hype isn't just about a new device hitting the shelves, but upcoming announcements about devices that won't see a shelf for months, or even announcements about upcoming announcements. It starts with leaked device code-names or Photoshopped concept images, then there are unconfirmed spec sheets and rumored release dates, followed by official teasers and then trade show releases (with the hands-on videos and device comparison sheets). Finally, YouTube starts getting the gadget version of amateur porn: the unboxing videos. It's an information strip-tease, showing just enough to catch the attention and drive the imagination wild with what isn't revealed.

I'm not an early adopter of technology, and when something starts to get exciting, I research it for months before I make the jump. I've been carrying around a Windows Mobile phone (the HTC Touch Pro 2), top-class technology that integrated well with work when I bought it, but it seems that Microsoft as a mobile platform is moribund, while Android is the new market share powerhouse. In early 2010, I started following rumors of a beast of an Android phone called the HTC "Scorpion" and for the next year, I submerged myself in Android hype. By January's Consumer Electronics Show, I was sold on two or three Android devices scheduled to release in the first half of the year.

I'd followed a rumored Motorola Android tablet code-named "Stingray," which was introduced at CES as the "Xoom." The Xoom is the hardware reference for Google's new release of Android, version 3.0 dubbed "Honeycomb," and it boasts a dual-core processor, rear- and front-facing cameras for video chats and HDMI output among its features. When the iPad came out, I couldn't understand where it fit in the gadget ecosystem: was it a bulky smartphone (sans calls), an underpowered laptop or a high-eyestrain eBook reader? Then, as I moved many of my computer activities into the cloud, live-blogged from geek conventions and trips, and grew weary of taking my laptop out of my carry-on at airport security, I began to realize that the tablet was the ideal travel laptop. The more I researched the applications and accessories (like a Bluetooth keyboard) that would be available, the more the tablet's niche solidified:

Live-blogging
Travel laptop that stays in the carry-on, through security
Garmin navigator replacement
Stream media (Netflix, Hulu, etc.) to any TV
SSH into my work computers and Amazon EC2 instances
Portable movies
Document editing (with Google Docs)

As of this writing, the Xoom is supposed to release on February 24, 2011. But that information comes from the gadget rags: Motorola and Verizon are silent on the topic.

As for the Android phone, up until CES 2011, I was looking forward to the HTC Thunderbolt, billed as "Not your dream phone. The one after that." It's sleek like the Nexus One, thin but with a huge 4.3" screen. It's the first "4G" phone on Verizon's LTE network. But Motorola came to CES with a surprise: the heretofore un-hyped (and unheard of) DROID Bionic, with a dual-core processor (the Thunderbolt's is single-core), more on-board storage and an HDMI-out port. The Bionic's case is not as pretty as the Thunderbolt's, but it seems to be more of a powerhouse. Even if Android 2.2 doesn't utilize dual core processors (and that's a big IF -- I haven't seen it categorically demonstrated that this is the case), Android 2.4 will, and software always evolves to push the hardware. The Bionic will have staying power. My wife surprised me by turning down an iPhone to replace her dying BlackBerry Storm, so I'm going to get her the Thunderbolt and stick with my Windows Mobile phone until the Bionic comes out. I'll be able to do some real comparisons then.

Now, I wait. Neither Verizon, nor HTC nor Motorola have made an official statement about release dates, but the current rumor-mill has the Motorola Xoom releasing on February 24 2011, the HTC Thunderbolt releasing on February 28 2011, and the Motorola DROID Bionic releasing in June 2011. After that, I'll have to wean myself off of Android hype news, and enjoy what I have instead of lusting after the next cool thing.

Amrut Fusion: the acclaimed single malt whisky from... India??

2011-01-24T22:10:00.000-06:00

Whisky writer Jim Murray named Amrut Fusion Single Malt the world's third finest whisky, giving it 97 out of 100 points. What's interesting is that Amrut Fusion isn't a product of Scotland, or Ireland or even Kentucky. This whisky comes from Bangalore India, a city known for outsourced information technology rather than fine spirits. As a friend put it, "Beating the English at Cricket or Soccer, well that's just fun... but beating the Scots and Irish at booze... that I have to taste!"

As did I. And this evening, my wife came home from work with a surprise for me. The local Binny's Beverage Depot carries the entire line of Amrut products. "Amrut" in Hindu mythology is the nectar of the gods. I've been looking forward to pouring a glass and sharing the experience with you. Let's begin!

This whisky is a lovely light amber color, and its aroma hits you right as you pour it: the first whiff reminds me of cedar and cherry. It's a very fresh profile, but if you stick your nose in the glass like a wine taster, you can smell an undercurrent of smoke and maybe a hint of peat.

My first sip bites at the tip of my tongue like a super-hot chutney. This is not a whisky I would typically drink neat. It's rough on the tongue, but full of flavors of fruit and vanilla-oak, with cloves and orange rind simmering at the back of the throat after it goes down. I'm not well-versed in whisky, but I've tasted a fair bit of wine, and Amrut Fusion has the same level of complexity I'd find in some of my favorite wines. It changes in your mouth, from the sharp, sweet attack at the tip of the tongue, to a spicy, smoky robustness at the end.

The Indian men of my parents' generation love their Canadian Club, and get excited when they get their hands on a bottle of Chivas Regal. Now, they can drink something light years ahead of their old standards. And best of all, it's from their homeland. Amrut, you've made a drink worthy of the name.

Daily Six Ounces: Murphy-Goode "All In" Claret 2005

2010-10-06T20:28:00.000-05:00

My calorie-counting has caused me to seriously neglect my wine consumption. So I resolve to budget for 6 ounces (2.5 Weight Watchers POINTS) of wine every day.

First up: the Murphy-Goode "All In" 2005 Claret. A "claret" (pronounced with a hard 't') is a British term for Bordeaux red wine, so this is a Cabernet Sauvignon (59%), Merlot (28%) and Petit Verdot blend. Poured in my glass, I can smell this beast a foot away, all dark red fruit and wood. After a while, the wood becomes more pronounced, and that overused phrase "toasty oak" feels apropos. (Mind you, the smell is competing with my wife's dinner of urad dal, but it seems to hold its own against even Indian food.) At the rim, it's a deep brick red color, deepening to an inky purple inside. It's a big, full wine in the mouth with a soft texture, notes of vanilla and berry on the tongue, finishing with a bit of peppery spice at the back of the throat. Maybe it's just ghosts of meals past (in particular, at the now-closed Meritage restaurant in Chicago), but this wine makes me think of venison loin with a sour cherry sauce. I think it would be great with a big gourmet burger too. Even though it's so soft, the heft of this wine demands food. I'm drinking it as a "cocktail", but it's making me hungry. For meat. Goode stuff, guys. Maybe tomorrow I'll get myself a big old Carson's burger for dinner with my next six ounces.

The Alligator on the Chicago River

2010-08-24T22:56:00.000-05:00

No dangerous thrill
About the river now that
They caught the gator.

http://www.chicagobreakingnews.com/2010/08/alligator-spotted-on-north-branch-of-chicago-river.html

We wore our boots, got our cameras and armed ourselves with sticks -- just in case.
We cut school and set out to the Chicago River, hoping to see the alligator.
We hunted through the reeds, stepping over the broken glass and soggy rubbish, making no noise (except when trying to scare each other).
We saw the river with new eyes.
We spied ducks, geese, some jumping fish and the tail of a beaver as it slid into the water, but our quarry eluded us.
We saw on the news that evening that the gator was captured an hour before we got there.
We secretly hoped it laid eggs.

American Ideals and Islamic Terrorism

2010-08-22T13:00:00.000-05:00

Every time America has strayed from the principle of equality under the law for all people, we end up viewing it as a black mark on our history.

Every time Americans compromise their ideals (such as those codified in the Bill of Rights) in response to anti-American terrorism, the terrorists score a victory.

Every time Americans equate radical, Islamic zealots with all Muslims, Osama bin Laden comes closer to his stated goal of instigating a war between the West and the Islamic world.

Every time Americans justify repressive policy on our part by pointing to repressive policy in another country, we erode our claim to moral superiority.

Location, Location, Location

2010-08-20T16:00:00.001-05:00

I used to be a regular at a bar near my apartment, "Garret Ripley's". I'd go there almost every day. Even when alone, I'd go to read or write over a couple of pints of Boddington's. The owners and staff knew me by name, and I knew them; someone would start pouring my Boddy's the minute I walked in the door. Cute servers would chat with me between rounds like we were old friends. It felt special. And that feeling of being special, as much as the Boddington's, kept me coming back.

This week, Facebook launched its "Places" feature, in line with social networking technologies like FourSquare and Gowalla. You, with your GPS-enabled mobile phone, can "check in" to the places you vsit, broadcasting your city-crawling lifestyle to your friends. You're also rewarded for "accomplishments" both wide (you've visited the most places in your neighborhood) and deep (you're the most regular of the regulars at your favorite pub). Now, feeling special is easier than ever: these services will express admiration of your worldliness, and show appreciation of your repeat business -- all while providing businesses with valuable customer intelligence as outlined in the fine print of their privacy policies.

Commentators on the State Of Society have the same critique of these technologies as they had for blogging, Facebook and Twitter: they feed our narcissism, they substitute stunted forms of interaction for real human interaction, they publicize things better kept private, they create a barrier to "authentic" experience... There's truth in all those notions, but that doesn't interest me much. These aren't technologies that are aimed at solving particular problems, they're technologies that are looking for a use. And while the initial applications are sometimes bizarre, it's interesting to see the uses people do find for them, and how that causes the technology to evolve.

FourSquare and Gowalla users can leave their friends messages, retrievable only when their friends check into the location it was left. The messages can be useful, like "try the corn bisque -- it's dynamite", or just fun Kilroy-was-here markers, like finding a friend's initials carved into your school desk. As the things you can leave for your friends to find become more sophisticated and multi-media, entire parallel dimensions of reality will be created, accessible through your mobile devices, where the public, physical world is only one part of what you can discover. All the old haunts are new again. It's easy to imagine "Dungeons & Dragons" types of games, played in a virtual overlay on the physical world. "London Below", the hidden world existing sideways to the real London from Neil Gaiman's book Neverwhere, seems prophetic.

Of course, if you're technically savvy, there's no reason to even leave your house to explore this virtual world. I have a friend who writes applications against the FourSquare API such that he has generated phantom digital proxies of himself who spend all day wandering plausible routes (plausible, to prevent FourSquare from noticing it isn't a real person, and blocking it) and checking into places around town. He describes it as the "game underneath the game" of FourSquare.

Digital realities and phantoms who wander a world similar to our own, but invisible without the proper gear and permission. The craziest science fiction is coming true in our lifetime.

Do you check into places using social media? If so, what do you enjoy about it? How would you like to see this develop? If not, what's your biggest turn-off about it? What changes would get you to use a location check-in system?

Bedtime, Age 6

2010-07-29T15:16:00.001-05:00

I’m already moving as I bat down the light switch. The dark pushes the light back into the bulb and then swallows it, but I’m flying, my feet clearing any shadowy arms that might snatch from under the bed. Landing, I scramble to make sure nothing hangs over the edge. I know the rules for avoiding what lurks underneath. Following the rules keeps me safe.

All the monsters in the dark have rules, and six-year-olds know them instinctively. Light and grown-ups scare them away. Things that live under beds can’t reach up on top of them. Blankets protect whatever they cover. Things that peer in the window won’t come inside if you pretend you’re asleep. Things that live in closets can’t open doors by themselves.

Oh, no.

The closet door is cracked open -- just a little bit, but enough. The opening is a black slash in the nighttime gloom. The watching darkness freezes me. I’m afraid to look, but terrified of looking away. I carefully sit up, trying to make no sound -- and a bedspring’s creak sends a gasp to squeeze my throat. The shadows shift around me but I keep my eyes on the closet. The shapes that flutter at the corner of my vision want me to look at them. I know better.

I have nothing but my hands to push the door shut. I have to reach -- to lean -- over the edge of the bed. This is part of the rules too. If you forget to check before the lights are out, whatever happens is your own fault. That’s when they get you, when you make a mistake. Mommy and Daddy won't always be there to protect you, you know. I reach over the edge, trying to watch both the dark slash and the shadowy floor, suddenly forgetting whether something will spring from where I’m looking, or from where I’m not. I imagine if I push too softly, the door will bounce on the latch and the crack will yawn open like a hungry mouth.

I forget about whatever is under the bed as I slam my palm against the closet door. It closes with a too-loud CLACK, and I dive back to the safety zone, burrowing into the warm covers, squeezing my eyes shut so I don’t see the fluttering things that want me to see them. I lie very still, waiting for my heartbeat to slow.

The danger fades, and feels a little silly; gentler dreams come out to play like wary mice. Secure in blankets, all I need to do is act asleep -- until I am. I'm safe again for one more night.

"Second Chance"

2010-07-15T17:25:00.002-05:00

Image via Wikipedia

When Lucifer was invited back to Heaven to petition for readmission, he laughed -- even as he chose his best suit and tie. Unfurling his long-unused wings and ascending, he mused that he was but a minion when he Fell. Now he was a ruler. What could Heaven offer him? But as he walked the shining white promenades, inhaling the incense fanned by Seraphim's wings and basking in the ambient Grace, he was struck by how the mind kindly forgets the glories it deems forever lost. Sitting in the waiting room, sipping complimentary Ambrosia, Lucifer couldn't stop stealing glances at the office door. His palms began to sweat.

A cherub opened the door with precise punctuality and ushered him inside. He introduced himself, inquired if Lucifer needed anything before they began, and then asked some casual “warm-up” questions. The script was unchanged since Lucifer’s time on the other side of that table. After the pleasantries came the only question that mattered in Heaven.

“Do you repent of your sins and come to the Lord asking forgiveness?”

Lucifer had no false modesty about his oratorical prowess. He had prepared an ode of contrition that could inspire men to form new religions of redemption, and make the Archangels themselves blubber with teary compassion. It almost seemed a waste to debut it to this fluttering baby whose name he had already forgotten. His eyes downcast, a penitent smile on his lips, he gave his answer.

“No, and no.”

Lucifer blinked. Words spun of gold got lost somewhere between his mind and his tongue, and raw truth -- unbidden, undecorated and irretrievable -- came out instead. This place! All his subtle talents, developed and honed in the long years since the Fall, counted for nothing in Heaven. The final bit of artifice, his own illusions, flaked away like charred skin. The cherub’s big eyes, the color of a clear noon-day sky, held bottomless pity.

“Thank you for your time.”

Lucifer stared at the objects in the tiny interview room, from the tasteful furniture and neat stacks of writing parchment to the way the color of the walls gently diffused light. The smallest things in Heaven were truly lovely. But they would never value him here. He could spend an eternity trying, with the same result. Even Heaven wasn’t worth that. “Thank you for your indulgence, little brother.”

Outside, he could feel Heaven rejecting him, its spaces folding away like a delicate sea creature recoiling its fronds. He expected the sudden wave of vertigo -- he had felt it first when being cast from the only home he knew. A second time he Fell, his body gaining speed, his feathers bursting into flame, searing, curling black. He felt no pain at all this time. This time he was falling home.

Toy Story 3

2010-07-08T10:38:00.001-05:00

I enjoyed Pixar's new movie, Toy Story 3, which elicited a few thoughts:

It's not a "kids' movie". It's firmly a "parents' movie". The themes of being "outgrown" and having to let go probably resonate strongest with parents, especially of teens.
Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head raise questions of the nature of the "self": an association of physical parts? Or a ghost in the machine? The Potato Heads appear to be both.
Mr. Tortilla Head was Dali-surreal and bizarre. Mr. Doo-Doo Head was just plain wrong.
Toys feel things deeply, and "betrayal" can send them down dark paths. If any Micronauts come asking for me, please tell them nothing.
If Pixar wanted to venture into Horror, they made a good start with Big Baby and the Watchful Monkey. Yikes.
Ken is not gay. He is merely fabulous.

Restaurant Review: Elate

2010-05-31T20:08:00.004-05:00

Built in 1926, the Hotel Wacker, a holdout from less trendy times in Chicago's River North district, is gone. In its place stands the Hotel Felix, bearing no resemblance to the shabby old apartment hotel, outside which transient folk would drink from bottles in brown paper bags. Now, urbanites sip cocktails on the patio of Elate, the eight-month old restaurant in the Hotel Felix, which sports a modern, minimalist cool from its unadorned floors and tables to its high, exposed-ductwork ceiling.

Though separately owned, Elate shares some of the LEED-certified ethos of the boutique hotel, from its use of reclaimed materials, to its large selection of "biodynamic, organic, or sustainably produced" wines. The menu declares that it promotes "local and organic products whenever possible," but also features Jidori chicken (California), Meyer beef (Colorado) and Rushing Waters trout (Wisconsin). Explains Executive Chef Randal Jacobs, it’s about finding the best quality and flavor. Premium products like these "distinguishes the restaurant" to industry insiders and self-educated foodies alike.

A gracious, gently-spoken host, Chef Jacobs likes to "let the good qualities of food speak for themselves." They were eloquent in a four-course tasting, starting with an amuse bouche of a baguette slice with tomatoes and rosemary concassé, draped with a silky shaving of Serrano ham and topped with arugula. The love of fresh herbs, the playful variations on classic pairings and the careful balance between acidity and richness echoed through the courses ahead.

The citrus gazpacho smelled of roasted tomatillos with a spritz of grapefruit and looked like a minced fruit salad. Indeed, bits of fruit were balanced against avocado, peppers and onions, with cucumbers and toasted bread adding crunch. It is a joyous riot of sweet, sour, savory and spice: springtime in a bowl.

Serious earthy aromas heralded the second course. A lone slice of pink grapefruit was no match against the nutty richness of meaty French Horn mushrooms and brussel sprouts, the outer leaves fried crisp. A delicately herbed hollandaise softened the dish, a hearty contrast to the previous course.

Elate's barbecued pork belly is pure indulgence. Typically a 50/50 fat-to-meat ratio, Chef Jacobs procures a Dutch product closer to 85/15. This he brines, applies a Kansas City spice rub, slow cooks, brushes with barbecue sauce, and chars. The resulting slab of piggy custard is sweet, creamy and decadent. Only the assertive tartness and crunch of the accompanying sauerkraut in cider vinegar and Granny Smith apple slices cut through the glorious fat.

I love cilantro, but never thought to use it in dessert. Chef Jacobs does exactly that in his Lime Curd Crisp, layering lime cream, toasted phyllo, raspberries macerated with cilantro, and a dollop of torched coconut meringue. The sweet and sour, creamy and crispy confection has a lovely herbal freshness unlike any dessert I've ever tasted.

In a neighborhood already replete with dining options, Elate’s basic focus on quality ingredients in balanced compositions make it a noteworthy addition, one that I hope remains a fixture on Clark and Huron for years to come.

Elate at the Hotel Felix

111 W. Huron Street

Chicago IL 60654

(312) 202-9900

elatechicago.com

I'm Just Saying: It Begs the Question

2010-04-21T11:19:00.000-05:00

From Wikipedia:

Begging the question (or petitio principii, "assuming the initial point") is a logical fallacy in which the proposition to be proved is assumed implicitly or explicitly in the premise.

It begs the question, for example, to assert that "might makes right" because morality is defined by the victor. But presenting a plan requiring a mansion and a yacht may raise the question of how to acquire such resources. Rule of thumb: If you're about to say "It begs the question..." followed by an actual question, you probably mean "it raises the question."

I'm just saying.

Moving To The Cloud

2010-04-14T17:26:00.001-05:00

Recently, my hard drive gave out on my personal laptop. Around the same time, my work laptop fell victim to malware and had to be re-imaged. I back up my data, but restoring applications and configuration settings is a multi-day drudgery. Making things worse, I was still stubbornly using Outlook as my Personal Information Manager, and though I synchronized with my phone, a hard drive crash spells a tiresome, error-prone restoration effort. I love my HTC Touch Pro2 smart phone, but most of my synchronization is through Windows ActiveSync, and with this constant Windows Update and anti-virus/spyware arms race, I'm considering ditching Windows altogether. (This installer for Ubuntu looks like it makes things easy.)

So now that I'm rebuilding from the rubble of my old laptop, I'm thinking I'll drag myself into the 21st century and move my data into the Cloud. I want to get as much as possible out onto remote servers that are cared for better than I care for my hardware. So I made a list of the things I do with desktop applications on my personal computer, and have started investigating Cloud alternatives. Here's my first stab.

Email/Contacts/Calendar/Tasks
Let the shaming ensue, but I like Outlook. I like dragging emails into my tasks or calendar and having them morph into the appropriate object. I like the ease of synchronization with my WindowsMobile phone. I like all the fun fields on a Contact record. I like the interface. But the data is hard to back up, hard to access except through Microsoft applications and not in the Cloud (I don't know if hotmail has sync features, but I don't need yet another email account). So I'm thinking of moving to GMail and Google Calendar, probably moving my domain to GMail For Business for $50 per year. Yes, their task manager is primitive and I hate the calendar interface, but if I'm that bummed about it, Google has APIs I can use to write my own damn UI.

Note: A colleague did show me a hosting service called dreamhost.com that allows not only Google suite integration, but shell access and an expanding list of plug-ins. It looks tempting, but I don't know when I'll have the time to take advantage of all the things it offers.

Word Processing/Spreadsheets/Power Points
Google Docs is the obvious solution here, and there are convenient importer/converters for my Office documents. The formatting and layouts aren't as robust as the desktop alternatives, but I can't remember the last time I used that extra control.

Personal Finance
I currently use Intuit's Quicken to track and manage my finances, and I can enter expenses on Landware's Pocket Quicken and syncrhonize it to my desktop. It works great, and I love it. But now, Intuit has decided to end its licensing to Landware and, following its acquisition of Mint, has scrapped Quicken Online as well. It looks like their new Cloud product, Mint.com, will combine the "best" of both Quicken and Mint. Sadly, the only mobile support is for the iPhone, but if the Web interface looks good on a mobile device, this won't be too much of a hardship. As long as I have Internet access...

Password Management
I currently have SplashID installed on my desktop, which synchronizes with the SplashID on my phone. It's a great solution, and probably my most-used application -- on both my phone and my desktop. Happily, the same company has a SplashID Live Cloud solution which can import/export (though not synchronize) from/to the desktop file format. I think this might be a good product to have both in the Cloud and on the desktop, just in case I need the information and don't have access to the Web.

Programming
This one is easy. Add a github plug-in to Eclipse, and your source code and resources are under Cloudy source control.

Photographs
Most of my data is digital photographs. On my desktop, I like the ZoomEx utility provided by Canon, but I do like using Picasa on the desktop and its easy synchronization to PicasaWeb. With my old desktop computer's CD burner broken, this has already helped me get all the old photographs off its hard drive.

Music
This one seems difficult. I'm not an iPod/iTunes user and I'm not interested in becoming one. But The Locker from MP3Tunes seems to provide a good solution for putting MP3s in the Cloud and making them accessible from various devices. There's even an open API against which to program your own music clients. Very cool.

That's my initial game plan for migrating my personal computing to the Web. Has anyone encountered any better online solutions for these different areas?

I'm Just Saying: I Could Indeed Care Less

2010-01-12T21:22:00.000-06:00

At the risk of sounding pedantic, I'd like to clarify something.

"I could care less."

You have some interest, however marginal. You're saying that it is possible for you to care less than you currently do. Your investment in the topic at hand is at some level greater than zero.

"I couldn't care less."

You are completely uninterested. There is no way for you to care less than you currently do. Your investment is zero, and the scale doesn't go negative.

I'm just saying.

Travel Tweets: Zanzibar and Homeward Bound

2009-12-15T17:38:00.001-06:00

During our travels, I found Twitter to be an excellent tool to document the journey as it happened. Even in places where I had limited internet access, I typically had a phone signal, which was enough to record a 140-character thought for my family and friends to see. (Previous: Serengeti and Tarangire Tweets)

Here are the Tweets from the last leg of our Tanzania trip: our relaxation time in Zanzibar, just off the coast of Dar Es Salaam. Times are in U.S. Central. (See all the photos on my Picasa album)

Zanzibar! Local weather, hot and humid. Bela's in heaven. I need air conditioning. Or a cold drink.
6:55 AM Nov 6th from txt

At the Shooting Star Lodge in Zanzibar, in an adorably quaint bungalow with a back porch overlooking the Indian Ocean.
8:47 AM Nov 6th from txt

From Zanzibar

Played in the pool ("swam" is too strong a term) overlooking the Indian Ocean in Zanzibar. After lunch, we'll play in the ocean itself.
4:40 AM Nov 7th from txt


From Zanzibar

How the Muslim ladies of Zanzibar, completely covered in black, manage to keep cool in this heat and humidity escapes me.
9:18 AM Nov 7th from txt

Saw tiny, fast-moving white crabs on the Zanzibar beach. They ducked into holes in the sand whenever I approached. They're kinda adorable.

9:31 AM Nov 7th from txt


From Zanzibar

Saturday night at the Shooting Star in Zanzibar: beach BBQ with fresh-caught lobster, GIANT prawns, fish and squid. w/Chenin/Chard/Viognier.
12:43 AM Nov 8th from txt



From Zanzibar

Increasing annoyance with Zanzibar heat, humidity, bugs, critters and rustic settings means it's nearing time for vacation's end tomorrow.
12:50 AM Nov 8th from txt

Correcting past Tweet: we were NOT cheated on entry visa cost. Tanzanians have proven to be among the most honest folk I've ever met.
2:17 AM Nov 8th from txt

Ants in sugar, flies on food. Hotel guest panicked when she saw a green snake at breakfast. Al fresco dining in the tropics comes at a cost.
2:28 AM Nov 8th from txt

Powdered sugar: a sweet way to choke.
11:13 PM Nov 8th from txt

Watching the sunlight shimmer off Indian Ocean waves while waiting for ride to Zanzibar airport, DarEsSalaam bound.
11:37 PM Nov 8th from txt

From Zanzibar

I'm impressed by all the young Europeans and Americans backpacking through Africa. Adventurous kids.
1:46 AM Nov 9th from txt

Puddle-jumped from Zanzibar to Dar Es Salaam. Now killing time at Slipway and friends' homes before our evening flight to Zurich.
3:11 AM Nov 9th from txt

Rap/hip-hop in Swahili sounds pretty cool, though I can't understand a word of it.
3:24 AM Nov 9th from txt

Dar Es Salaam traffic at a dead standstill. Flight to Zurich in 4 hours. I remain optimistic.
9:28 AM Nov 9th from txt

is in the Dar Es Salaam airport, waiting to board his 10-hour flight to Zurich. The journey home begins!
11:00 AM Nov 9th from txt

is in Zurich, where they don't convert Tanzanian Shillings. Gonna buy some Swiss chocolate while waiting for flight to Chicago.



From Zurich

12:29 AM Nov 10th from txt

Caotina surfin Swiss Premium Chocolate Drink puts Kay-O/Yoohoo to shame. And I LOVE Kay-O/Yoohoo.
2:17 AM Nov 10th from txt

http://twitpic.com/ozboe - Electric bug zapper racquet! Genius!
3:57 AM Nov 10th from TwitPic

And so concludes the travel Tweets for our Tanzanian trip.

Travel Tweets: Serengeti and Tarangire

2009-12-15T17:33:00.002-06:00

During our travels, I found Twitter to be an excellent tool to document the journey as it happened. Even in places where I had limited internet access, I typically had a phone signal, which was enough to record a 140-character thought for my family and friends to see. (Previous: Ngorongoro Tweets)

Here are the Tweets from the fourth and fifth phases of our Tanzania trip: a trip through Olduvai Gorge to a safari in the Serengeti national park and wildlife preserve, and then a day in Tarangire national park and preserve. Times are in U.S. Central. (For all the pictures see my Picasa albums for the Serengeti and Tarangire.)

Zebras make a high-pitched whistling braying sound, like donkeys on helium.
11:27 PM Nov 1st from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

The Masai have traditions, mores & taboos that define & binds them as a people. What defines Americans? Worth pondering in devisive times.
11:34 PM Nov 1st from txt

Just saw a giraffe and her calf on the road to Olduvai. She stopped, turned her back, lifted her tail, and pooed for us.
11:53 PM Nov 1st from txt

Here at Olduvai (mispronunciation of "Oldupai") Gorge, human evolution is refreshingly uncontroversial.
1:10 AM Nov 2nd from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

Hominid "Lucy" was named for the hit song at the time: Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds.
1:15 AM Nov 2nd from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

"Serengeti" is a mispronunciation of the Masai word for endless plains, "Sirengeti".
1:23 AM Nov 2nd from txt

On the Serengeti I can see the Earth's curvature all around. Only other place I've seen such far horizons is at sea.
2:19 AM Nov 2nd from txt

Over the last few days in the Tanzanian bush, I've gained so much respect for the Land Cruiser and especially our driver Mr. Mkenda.
4:04 AM Nov 2nd from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

Wandered up a little trail at a rest stop in the Serengeti. Encountered a baby elephant! Took pix and backed away, looking out for mama.
4:08 AM Nov 2nd from txt

I never realized how huge an animal the giraffe is, until staring up at one, 20 feet away on a Serengeti road.
4:40 AM Nov 2nd from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

Staying at the Serengeti Sopa Lodge, where the animals come close to our suite's balcony. Very close.
6:30 AM Nov 2nd from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

Don't get between a hippo and the water. A big hippo's SNORT made that very clear.

9:59 AM Nov 2nd from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

4am wake-up call tomorrow for a balloon ride over the Serengeti!
11:55 AM Nov 2nd from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

Lions, cheetah & herds of hippo are just bonuses on a balloon ride over the Serengeti. The bird's-eye view alone is worth the price.
4:30 AM Nov 3rd from txt



From Sarengeti National Park

Just saw the loser of a bull hippo fight. His carcass was pillaged by the biggest crocodile I've ever seen.
4:32 AM Nov 3rd from txt


From Sarengeti National Park

Stopped for lunch, watching a pride of lionesses sunning. Warthog passed by. Chase. Kill. Lionesses lunch too. WOW.
4:35 AM Nov 3rd from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

Guide stopped the Land Cruiser within ten feet of a big, scarred male lion and a sleek cheetah. Exhilirating!
4:37 AM Nov 3rd from txt


From Sarengeti National Park

Safari BINGO! After spotting the leopard, we've seen all the big animals possible on the Sarengeti.
5:07 AM Nov 3rd from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

Touring the Serengeti, came upon a lioness guarding a water buffalo kill. She had on a radio collar. Marlin Perkins was here.
5:16 AM Nov 3rd from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

The vicious, relentless, disease-carrying tsetse fly is attracted to the colors blue and gray. The same colors as my shoulder bag and shirt.
10:29 AM Nov 3rd from txt

I wouldn't have thought I could get sore from riding in a Land Cruiser over Serengeti trails... But oh, can I!
12:13 PM Nov 3rd from txt

Our Tanzanian park guide Mkenda credits growing up among mountains and vast plains for his eagle-eyed distance vision.
2:36 AM Nov 4th from txt

is eating lunch at a folding table on a Serengeti plain amidst herds of grazing wildebeest and impala. This is amazing!
4:08 AM Nov 4th from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

At the Serengeti visitor's center, hyraxes scamper around like they own the place, sunning on picnic tables, curling up at your feet.
6:16 AM Nov 4th from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

Leopards seem to be the elusive celebrities of the Serengeti. One just got up, sauntered among us paparazi cars and crossed the road.
7:24 AM Nov 4th from txt

The leopard just walked up to our Land Rover, checked out the tires and sauntered down the road. Could've petted, but wanted to keep arm.
7:36 AM Nov 4th from txt

From Sarengeti National Park

Today we leave the Serengeti and head for Tarangire National Park for our final day of safari.
10:06 PM Nov 4th from txt

On the Serengeti you WILL eventually be eaten. If not while you're breathing, then certainly after. And not even your bones will remain.

From Ngorongoro National Park

12:50 AM Nov 5th from txt

Stopped at Gibb's Farm, a lush coffee plantation in Karatu. All estate-grown vegetables; most flavorful I've ever eaten!
4:57 AM Nov 5th from txt


From Tarangire National Park

Now entering Tarangire National Park, Tanzania: our final safari destination.
6:40 AM Nov 5th from txt

Tarangire National Park has approx 3 elephants per square kilometer. Seems like more. Common as dogs in River North!
11:30 PM Nov 5th from txt

From Tarangire National Park

Seeing a lion up close is great. Seeing a lioness & 5 cubs, with a young wildabeest kill -- up close -- is spectacular!
11:38 PM Nov 5th from txt

From Tarangire National Park

Kikoti Camp in Tarangire: fell asleep to the smell of wood smoke and the sounds of insects; awoke to bird song and mist over the forest.
11:46 PM Nov 5th from txt


From Tarangire National Park

Like a fifth leg or a second trunk, a bull elephant's junk almost reaches the ground.
12:24 AM Nov 6th from txt

From Tarangire National Park

Leg 1 (father-in-law's old haunts) and 2 (safari) of our Tanzanian trip are over. Now off to leg 3: Zanzibar to play in the ocean!
3:58 AM Nov 6th from txt

Finally, we left for Zanzibar, to end our trip relaxing on the beach. (Go to the Zanzibar Tweets)

Travel Tweets: Ngorongoro Crater

2009-12-13T22:35:00.030-06:00

During our travels, I found Twitter to be an excellent tool to document the journey as it happened. Even in places where I had limited internet access, I typically had a phone signal, which was enough to record a 140-character thought for my family and friends to see. (Previous: Dar Es Salaam Tweets)

Here are the Tweets from the third phase of our Tanzania trip: safari in the Ngorongoro Crater national park and wildlife preserve. Times are in U.S. Central. (See all the pictures on my Picasa album.)

Driving from Arusha to Ngorongoro, seeing lavender-flowered Jaracanda trees, arabica coffee plantations, giant aloes, cattle and goats.
6:48 AM Oct 31st from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

Just saw camels grazing with donkeys on the wide, arid grasslands. Patches of green along the road where the rains run off.
6:55 AM Oct 31st from txt

On the Arusha-Ngorongoro road, the horizon is nothing but mountains and towering fluffy cumulonimbus. Acacia and sere grasslands until then.
7:10 AM Oct 31st from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

Driving through northern Tanzania, I'm convinced the Masai inspired the Aiel and their Three-Fold Land. #WoT
7:30 AM Oct 31st from txt

More sights along the Arusha-Ngorongoro road: big termite mounds like ruined pillars and tornado-like dust devils.

7:54 AM Oct 31st from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

That's one HUGE dust storm heading our way...
7:59 AM Oct 31st from tx

Baboons! Hanging around and sauntering across the road like they own the place. And I'm not gonna argue with them.
8:13 AM Oct 31st from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

The countryside is painted in vivid green grass & leaves, yellow brush, red & lavender flowers, rust soil, powder-blue sky and white clouds.
8:41 AM Oct 31st from txt

First view of Ngorongoro Crater from the rim is breathtaking. A vast preserve 600m below of plains. & lakes, animal herds visible as specks.
9:45 AM Oct 31st from txt



From Ngorongoro National Park

The Sopa Lodge at the rim of Ngorongoro Crater can be described in one word: paradise. Words, even pictures fail to capture this beauty.
10:21 AM Oct 31st from txt



From Ngorongoro National Park

Ngorongoro Crater: buffalo LIONS hyenas vultures jackals buzzards warthogs ostrich wildabeest zebra gazelle egrets ELEPHANTS HIPPOS!

2:23 AM Nov 1st from txt

Ngorongoro National Park

There are 26 black rhinos left in Ngorongoro crater. I'm looking at one of them through binoculars.
2:38 AM Nov 1st from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

Six! Six beautiful black rhinos! Note "white rhinos" are the same color as black rhinos. It's a mispronunciation of "wide (lipped) rhino."
4:37 AM Nov 1st from txt

The floor of Ngorongoro Crater has more animal poop per square meter than anyplace I've ever seen. And not just little poop either.
5:28 AM Nov 1st from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

The Masai may be a rustic, traditional folk, but they're hard, aggressive bargainers when it comes to their handicrafts.
7:17 AM Nov 1st from txt


From Ngorongoro National Park

See the Ngorongoro Crater once in life. Nearly untouched by man, it's a view and perspective into a vast, thriving world of primal beauty.
8:05 AM Nov 1st from txt

I was uncomfortable when the Masai came out and danced for us, to "welcome important ambassadors." At least we brought crayons for the kids.
8:09 AM Nov 1st from txt


From Ngorongoro National Park

Relaxing last evening at Ngorongoro Sopa Lodge in suite's solarium, looking down lush slopes, sere grasslands & the mountainous crater rim.
8:13 AM Nov 1st from txt


From Ngorongoro National Park

Safari essentials: a camera with at least 20X optical zoom, 16GB memory, bandana/dust guard, bug repellant.
9:09 AM Nov 1st from txt

On safari nature isn't enclosed; you are. You venture into territory where the animals don't care about you, they're busy doing their thing.
9:14 AM Nov 1st from txt

Ngorongoro Sopa Lodge rooms have no TVs, which is helpful when trying to get a full night's sleep before an early safari.

8:40 PM Nov 1st from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

The morning mists over the Ngorongoro rim are like breakfasting in a cloud. Next stop: Olduvai Gorge.

10:12 PM Nov 1st from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

From Ngorongoro, we set out to the Serengeti wildlife preserve, stopping at Olduvai Gorge on the way. (Go to the Serengeti and Tarangire Tweets)

Travel Tweets: Dar Es Salaam

2009-12-07T22:59:00.010-06:00

During our travels, I found Twitter to be an excellent tool to document the journey as it happened. Even in places where I had limited internet access, I typically had a phone signal, which was enough to record a 140-character thought for my family and friends to see.

Here are the Tweets from the second leg of our Tanzania trip: a visit to Dar Es Salaam, where my wife was born and her father grew up. This trip was their first return in 26 years. Times are in U.S. Central. (See all the pictures on my Picasa album.)

Non-disembarking stop in Nairobi. Come to understand better the phrase "unwashed masses."
11:42 AM Oct 28th from txt

50 more minutes to Dar Es Salaam, and into what I've overheard is a spectacularly slow immigration. Fingers crossed it ain't so.
11:53 AM Oct 28th from txt

Landed in Dar Es Salaam! Air is humid, smells of roasting corn.
1:22 PM Oct 28th from txt

Just got double-charged for entry visa. Welcome to Africa!
1:40 PM Oct 28th from txt

We later learned that we were not, in fact, overcharged. The cost of an American entry visa had gone up. Counter to our jaded expectations, we found the Tanzanian people to be among the most honest and welcoming we'd ever encountered.

Dar Es Salaam at night looks like India: industrial concrete buildings, roadside chai, billboards for hi-tech products.
12:24 AM Oct 29th from mobile web

From Dar Es Salaam

Spotty cell coverage in Tanzania means fewer Tweets. And perhaps a more authentic experience.
12:27 AM Oct 29th from mobile web

Using bottled water for drinking, brushing teeth & face washing while abroad is an excellent lesson in water conservation.
12:57 AM Oct 29th from mobile web

Small wonder Indians once flocked to Dar Es Salaam: it looks and feels just like India, with less visible abject poverty.
5:17 AM Oct 29th from mobile web

On a nostalgia tour with my father-in-law in Tanzania, seeing friends of 40 years ago, the hospital where Bela was born.
7:33 AM Oct 29th from mobile web



From Dar Es Salaam

The Indian Ocean sparkles green and deep azure in the powerful African sun.
7:35 AM Oct 29th from mobile web

From Dar Es Salaam

Under the broiling African sun, amidst primally vivid color and sea-smells, he rued what could've been.
10:58 AM Oct 29th from mobile web

From Dar Es Salaam

The Tanzanian people seem relaxed, friendly and courteous. I found myself smiling and nodding at passers-by; so unlike Chicago.

11:07 AM Oct 29th from mobile web

Amazing Indian dining at Garden Bistro in Dar Es Salaam: in large part because of the gorgeous outdoor cabanas under the stars.4:03 PM Oct 29th from mobile web

From Dar Es Salaam

In Tanzania, non-GM, organic, farm/sea-to-table isn't fancy dining; it's the default, and delicious.
10:48 PM Oct 29th from mobile web

Mysteriously, magically, international roaming sprung back to life for me in Tanzania. Let's see for how long...
11:47 PM Oct 29th from txt

The poverty I've seen in DarEsSalaam is stark, but somehow not wretched, despite the visible disparity. I wonder what I'm not seeing.12:53 AM Oct 30th from txt

"K.T." -- allegedly the best hole-in-the-wall kebab joint in DarEsSalaam. Kebabs acquired for picnic on Bongoyo Island.
2:56 AM Oct 30th from txt

From Dar Es Salaam

Around $77 for 3 of us to take a small boat to Bongoyo Island to sit on the beach for 2 hours? No thanks - we'll be in Zanzibar in 4 days.3:19 AM Oct 30th from txt

From Dar Es Salaam

University of Tanzania's campus is a beautiful arid park of hills, acacia and dry brush. That the students walk in this heat humbles me.
4:17 AM Oct 30th from txt

From Dar Es Salaam

Enjoyed our K.T. Kebabs on a hill overlooking Dar Es Salaam. Great! Balls of lamb, onion & spices crispy on outside, tender on inside.
4:20 AM Oct 30th from txt

From Dar Es Salaam

Taking a ferry across Kigmboni Bay for no better reason than it'd be cool to take a ferry across the bay.
4:59 AM Oct 30th from txt

From Dar Es Salaam

Aha. Kigmboni across the bay -- that's where the really poor people live. And it's a site of some spectacular white-sand beaches.
5:41 AM Oct 30th from txt

From Dar Es Salaam

Sitting in a beach cabana across the bay from DarEsSalaam enjoying a beer with Bela and her dad, listening to the waves of the Indian Ocean.
5:50 AM Oct 30th from txt

From Dar Es Salaam

Bela, watching men at the beach: "These Tanzanian men are IN SHAPE." Me: "Well, when you grow up in a country without Twinkies..."
5:58 AM Oct 30th from txt

We're at the Patel Brotherhood club. Everyone's speaking Gujarati. I smile and nod.
11:25 AM Oct 30th from txt

From Dar Es Salaam

Bela: "You know you're in a Gujarati restaurant when they give your table only one menu. And then give it to the other table after."
11:45 AM Oct 30th from txt

Bela looked into an empty concrete room and saw second-hand memories of her first 10 months take new shape.
3:24 PM Oct 30th from txt

From Dar Es Salaam

Two-hour flight from DarEsSalaam to Arusha in a tiny single-engine plane! This should be fun...

11:58 PM Oct 30th from txt

From Dar Es Salaam

Thirteen passengers fit in this plane. One as a co-pilot.
1:20 AM Oct 31st from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

Flying from DarEsSalaam to Arusha via Zanzibar in a little propeller plane affords the most amazing views! Shutter-finger tired.
1:54 AM Oct 31st from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

Weather in Arusha is too much for our little plane. Stopped in Kilimanjaro waiting for weather to clear or a bus.
3:53 AM Oct 31st from txt

From Ngorongoro National Park

Made it to Arusha! Having lunch at a posh little lodge. Carrots and potatoes actually have a distinct -- and good -- taste.
5:49 AM Oct 31st from txt

On our arrival in Arusha, we immediately hit the road, bound for the Ngorongoro Crater wildlife preserve. (Go to the Ngorongoro Tweets)

Travel Tweets: The Zurich Layover

2009-12-07T22:22:00.008-06:00

During our travels, I found Twitter to be an excellent tool to document the journey as it happened. Even in places where I had limited internet access, I typically had a phone signal, which was enough to record a 140-character thought for my family and friends to see. (Previous: Zurich Layover Tweets)

Here are the Tweets from the first leg of our Tanzania trip: our one-day layover in Zurich. Times are in U.S. Central. (See all the photographs on my Picasa album.)

Bah. 8 kg carry-on limit on SwissAir just nuked our "all-carry-ons" plan. Nothing like last-minute reshuffling to kick off a journey.
5:55 PM Oct 26th from txt

http://twitpic.com/n2v07 - SwissAir #9 to Zurich
6:23 PM Oct 26th from TwitPic

From Zurich

http://twitpic.com/n38gr - Cramped quarters in SwissAir Economy class
7:49 PM Oct 26th from TwitPic

From Zurich

USB port on plane seat means my phone has power! Yay!
8:05 PM Oct 26th from txt

Landed in Zurich. Countryside looks so lovely, I may yodel. Keeping an eye out for Swiss Miss.
4:34 AM Oct 27th from txt

http://twitpic.com/n4rce - Hotel Continental, Zurich: NOT the way to beat jetlag
6:47 AM Oct 27th from TwitPic

From Zurich

Probably shouldn't have napped so long at the hotel, but now an evening circuit of Zurich Old Town awaits.
10:11 AM Oct 27th from txt

From Zurich

http://twitpic.com/n5jr4 - Dusk over Zurich
11:35 AM Oct 27th from TwitPic

From Zurich

http://twitpic.com/n5jvb - Dusk over Zurich 2
11:36 AM Oct 27th from TwitPic

From Zurich

Had an Italian meal in Zurich at La Pasta with perfectly al dente pasta and a comped (?) bottle of Amarone.
1:25 PM Oct 27th from txt

From Zurich

Nope, it wasn't comped, but it was thoroughly enjoyed.

From Zurich

Bela's drunk on Amarone and ready to crash. We have a 5:30am wake-up call. But I'm not done with Zurich. Wolf Bierhalle, I'm coming!
2:18 PM Oct 27th from txt

Found a fondue place: Swiss Chuchi. Trying to decipher wine list in German.
3:03 PM Oct 27th from txt

Ordered a glass of Staatschreiner Wein Cuvee Prestige from Zurich. Pinot noir, Muscat & Gewurztraminer.
3:09 PM Oct 27th from txt

The wine: dry muscat aromatics, ruby-tinged gold color, perfumey Gewurtz in mouth.
3:19 PM Oct 27th from txt

http://twitpic.com/n6f65 - 2nd Dinner at Swiss Chuchi, Zurich
3:23 PM Oct 27th from TwitPic

From Zurich

Enjoyed an evening in Zurich; now preparing for 10 hours on the plane to Dar Es Salaam. P.S. Swiss coffee is surprisingly strong.
1:52 AM Oct 28th from txt

Swiss Miss appeared to me as a hologram in the Zurich airport. She kissed the window and vanished, beautiful and ephemeral as a dream.

2:49 AM Oct 28th from txt

And then we were off, bound for Nairobi, Kenya, and then Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania. (Go to the Dar Es Salaam Tweets)

Fear and Loathing in America

2009-09-08T22:48:00.000-05:00

In President John F. Kennedy's oft-quoted inaugural address, he challenged America to "ask not what your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country." In 2009, that remark would have branded him a socialist, what with its overtones of a "common good" with nary an individual profit motive in sight. (One wonders how the Preamble to the Constitution would fare in this current climate, with its "promote the general welfare" verbiage.) President Barack Obama certainly came under conservative fire in the days leading up to today's address to the nation's school children. The key objection was to the assignment that was initially to accompany the address: students would be asked to write a letter to themselves to discuss what they could do to help the president.

This scared the bajeezus out of conservative parents, who envisioned this man, for whom they didn't vote, indoctrinating their children into the sinister ethos of giving up some of what they had, to help those less fortunate. (One wonders how Jesus Christ -- another notorious socialist -- would fare in this current climate.) A suburban Colorado mom was quoted on CNN saying "Thinking about my kids in school having to listen to that just really upsets me. I'm an American. They are Americans, and I don't feel that's OK. I feel very scared to be in this country with our leadership right now." It was sentiments like this that created another of many modern absurdities: a presidential message for students to take school seriously being labeled "controversial."

Of course, this "controversy," like so many in an age when ignorant voices get amplified by 24-hour "news" coverage, turned out to be a whole lot of nothing. The message was as unassailable as a call to honor the service of our fallen troops:

So today, I want to ask you, what’s your contribution going to be? What problems are you going to solve? What discoveries will you make? What will a president who comes here in twenty or fifty or one hundred years say about what all of you did for this country? Your families, your teachers, and I are doing everything we can to make sure you have the education you need to answer these questions. ... But you’ve got to do your part too. So I expect you to get serious this year. I expect you to put your best effort into everything you do. I expect great things from each of you. So don’t let us down – don’t let your family or your country or yourself down. Make us all proud. I know you can do it.

So much agonizing over such a simple, worthy message. And yet the rhetoric over the President's every comment is the most polarized since... Well, since the last President, actually, when people like me were sneering at President George W. Bush, labeling him an idiot and an autocrat. It occurs to me that there's a deep and abiding fear on both sides of the partisan rift. Liberals feared what the world was becoming in the wake of Bush's foreign policy; conservatives fear what the nation is becoming under Obama's domestic efforts at reform. Both sides can offer cynical theories about why the other side's fear grows more stark, but that's precisely the rhetoric that deepens the divide.

I've given myself an assignment: try to understand conservative fear of what they're calling a slippery slope to socialism. For a while, I'm going to suspend my own dogma that this is a product of political spin to protect corporate interests and prevent Obama from chalking up any policy successes. I'm going to do some reading and listening to see the picture of the future that conservatives fear. Because in the end, fear is not dispelled by belittling it. It's dispelled by understanding, and casting a bright light upon its source. I'll update if I find any revelations.

"Only the wealthy should live, and the sick ought to be punished financially."

2009-09-03T20:13:00.000-05:00

On Facebook today, many of my friends' status updates read the same:

"No one should die because they cannot afford health care, and no one should go broke because they get sick. If you agree, please post this as your status for the rest of the day."

Seeing it the first time (without the second sentence), I commented, agreeing, and saw the posts of various other like-minded people. Over the course of the day, I saw more and more such status updates. In the context of the current health care reform debate, it's a fair statement to make. It tries to do what Bill Moyers (on Real Time with Bill Maher) so eloquently argued President Obama must do regarding public coverage: frame the debate as the moral issue it is.

I didn't change my own status, despite my agreement. Among my circle of friends, I would be preaching to the choir with regards to policy, and for those few in my network who take issue with semi-nationalized health care, this assertion is hardly an argument. Honestly, who's going to rebut, "only the wealthy should live, and the sick ought to be punished financially"? I question whether anyone's mind has ever been changed by a picket sign, bumper sticker or status update. Opponents, at least the sane ones who speak in public, attack issues of policy, and cite the relative inefficiency of publicly-run programs in comparison to privately-run ones, or the effects of government interference on health care quality and availability. In a pinch, they'll make up policy points to attack, like the infamous and fraudulent "death panels." But most of the objections are things that ought to be addressed, and are amenable to serious debate. Debatable points invite discussion; attacks on straw men create ideological silos.

My old friend Andy offered me a different interpretation of the status update. "I believe in solidarity as solace more than solidarity as change agent. Knowing there are many like you is a great comfort in trying times." It's a fair point, with an undeniable emotional resonance. But on this issue, I feel that solidarity, manifesting as partisanship, has done a great deal to stymie real progress on this issue. Using these new technologies, I hope that copy/paste activism among like-minded folk isn't mistaken for real engagement. That's not to say that social media can't be used to argue a point. My wife circulated the Bill Moyers clip on Facebook, which -- though preaching to the choir of Bill Maher viewers -- offers an articulate declaration of the moral basis to the policy that ought to be proposed. Moyers stated the value proposition, gave its historical context, and made a call to action.

But perhaps I'm committing the same sin I'm criticizing by attacking the sound bite, out of context of the message. My wife, experienced in social activism, pointed out that political change requires a rallying cry, dissemination of information, and action. It requires an engagement with your allies as well as your opponents. If this shared Facebook update is the opening salvo to getting our message straight on this very important issue, then my criticism is misplaced. I'd go so far as to say, I "Like" this.

Remembering Madison

2009-08-28T12:47:00.019-05:00

When I lived in Madison, Wisconsin from 1993 through 1996, I was a pretty solitary guy. I had just graduated from Northwestern, bone-weary of academics and depressed over a breakup. I wasn't looking for challenges and a fast-track career. I was looking to hole up, lick my wounds, and experience living on my own terms for the first time in my life. Madison seemed perfect. It had the right balance of proximity and distance from my friends in Chicago and family in Omaha. It had the familiarity of a college campus, and the distraction of a young nightlife scene. It had beautiful lakeshore parks and cozy coffee shops -- poetic places for a loner to sit and read or write or think.

After I nailed an interview for a programming job in Madison, I wandered the town, identifying places where I would hang out. I already had it in mind that I would claim Madison as my own by haunting it, by making myself a part of its landscape. Living there, I was compulsive about doing exactly that. Most have nostalgic feelings about the places they shared with someone dear. I set out to engineer an anticipatory nostalgia about places I shared with my own self, a young man in his early 20s -- an age when melancholy and loneliness could still look romantic (so I thought) and not just sad. Standing on the little curved foot bridge in Tenny Park, overlooking the lily pads, I imagined myself as an older man, seeing the bridge and remembering... some wistful, romanticized bullshit, most likely.

Last weekend, my wife, brother-in-law, dog and I took a road trip to Madison. One of my fond, un-engineered Madison memories was of going to the annual Sun Prairie Sweet Corn Festival with office friends and gorging ourselves on sweet, sweet ears of corn, fresh out of the steamer. This trip was to re-vist that experience, and my family indulged me in other such re-visitations. Those who know me will not be surprised that most of them revolved around food. We ate at Ella's Deli, with the carousel out front and a riot of clockwork toys in every nook and cranny of the restaurant. We browsed the Dane County Farmers' Market around the capitol square, and bought my favorite spicy cheese bread from Stella's Bakery, along with some picnic-worthy produce and cheese. We stopped by the Memorial Union -- another old hangout -- to get Babcock's ice cream and frozen custard (my favorite is the orange custard with dark chocolate chips). We stopped by Smoky Jon's BBQ to pick up a couple of bottles of their terrific sauce. And thanks to my brother-in-law's research, we dined at a "new" restaurant, Harvest, where we made some new memories over a stunningly tasty farm-fresh meal with an outstanding Oregon Pinot Noir.

We also stopped by my old apartment building, and my wife remarked that we could hear birds chirping -- in our downtown condo, we mainly hear traffic and construction. We checked out my old office building too, nestled in a forested drive. The picnic table where we sometimes lunched was still there, but no trace remained of my first full-time employer. On the way to the capitol square, we passed Tenny Park and the foot bridge. It was as pretty as I remembered it, but there was no sudden rush of sentiment, no sense of prophesized nostalgia fulfilled. I have other, fonder memories of Madison, it seems. On our next trip, I'd like to go to one of the surviving small music clubs, where I saw bands like Green Day, Garbage, God Lives Underwater and Letters To Cleo. I'd like to have beers on the Union Terrace, and see if the "secret door" to the Barber's Closet still exists. I'd like my wife to see the interior of the capitol dome. And instead of just buying sauce, next time we must sit down to some Smoky Jon's 'cue. I'd like my next memories of Madison to be ones I share.

Blommer's Saratoga Dark

2009-08-21T15:51:00.003-05:00

The smell of baking brownies often blankets Chicago's northern Loop and River North neighborhoods. The source is actually Blommer's Chocolate Factory (http://www.blommer.com/) at Kinzie and Des Plaines. My blessing and curse is that they have a small retail shop, midway on the walk between my office and home.

I just bought some chunks of the Saratoga Dark. At 73% cacao, it's black as the ace of spades and has a rich, almost winey odor. The chocolate has a silky texture in your mouth, melts easily, and leaves you with a hint of coffee at the end. A one pound bag is an indulgence at $4.83, but it'll make you so happy.

The Bug Fix Bell

2009-08-13T15:03:00.002-05:00

At Firm58, our Quality Assurance manager (a transplant from DoubleClick/Google, like me) set up a Bug Fix Bell like we had at our old job. Fix a software defect? You get to ring the bell. And everyone applauds. It's quite a morale boost. I've heard non-developers say they wish they could fix something so they too could ring the bell. That's the power of even a little apprecition!

A Productive Day At Work

2009-07-10T14:12:00.001-05:00

Rajiv could meet the deadline, but it meant losing a bit of what made him human. His eyes darted across the mosaic of windows on the screen, his awareness fragmenting and reassembling in pulses, data into information, information into structures and algorithms. He was the programmer. He was the program. Humanity faded as he merged with the stark perfection of silicon. Man had limits. Machine could do anything.

Emotions are known to the cybermind. One is akin to the human notion of "anxiety" or "frustration," a frantic cycling until control of a digital resource can be seized or a data pathway opened. The other, more rare, is the rapturous repetition of operations on a shining torrent of bytes. The still-human might label it "glory."

Utimately, intelligences both organic and silicon were driven by the same thing: the fulfillment of purpose. Humans feared that computers would someday become like them, and self-determine a purpose at odds with humanity. But if computers had something approximating fear, it was of becoming like humans, adrift without clarity or direction.

He had his purpose, and at last he had the clarity of well-defined tasks. Now, joined to the machine, he processed. And in the processing he experienced a kind of bliss. Deliverables blossomed in his workspace like digital buds under an electric sun.

Going, Going, Googley-Gone!

2009-04-28T00:10:00.002-05:00

In retrospect, "fixed-term employment" at Google was a bit like getting laid off slowly, over the course of a year. But finally, on April 3^rd 2009, I turned in my badge and walked out the door a free man. The sun was shining, a cold wind stung my face, and for the first time in five years, I looked ahead to doing something completely new.

Five years ago, the company I joined still referred to itself as "Performics," though New York-based DoubleClick had just acquired it. My first two years were spent helping bring its search engine advertising product up to the standards of the new owners. This entailed long nights and weekends of putting out fires, rewriting entire chunks of the system, and working with my colleagues to figure out how we could bring some discipline and predictability to our little start-up operation. I stepped towards professional maturity even as the company did. By 2006, we were calling ourselves "DoubleClick." I became an engineering manager and had grown a staff of programmers under me in Chicago and coordinated its efforts with a team of offshore developers in India. I got married, and shortly after getting back from my honeymoon, was asked to spend two weeks of every month in New York, managing another team there. There's no quicker way to learn to fly than to be thrown off a building. If I didn't exactly soar all the time, I didn't crash through the pavement either, and as a team, we managed to do a lot of good. When I attended our product's posh commercial launch party at the top of Rockefeller Center in Manhattan, it was hard not to be stunned by how far and fast we had come.

In early 2007, we at DoubleClick learned that Google had made a $3.1 billion bid to purchase us. There was fanfare up and down the rows of the software development cubicles. At heart, most of us still thought of ourselves as "Performics," and the prospect of being embraced by the legendary Shangri-La of software engineering was dizzying. None of us was under the illusion that we were doing anything but sneaking into Google's back door. None of us had the "preferred" PhD specified on Google's public job postings, and few of us believed we could pass their infamous interview process. But our management gave us carefully non-committal reassurances that we had good prospects for surviving the transition. We had launched and maintained a revenue-generating product. We had domain expertise in a hotly-contested field. Surely Google would value these things. These were our mantras during the year in which the U.S. and European legalities of the acquisition were settled.

On Tuesday March 11^th 2008, Google CEO Eric Schmidt announced, "As with most mergers, there may be reductions in headcount. We expect these to take place in the U.S. and possibly in other regions as well. We know that DoubleClick is built on the strength of its people. For this reason we'll strive to minimize the impact of this process on all our clients and employees." What we didn't know is that the "Googlers" (what Google employees call themselves) were themselves grumbling about the acquisition. Google had been acquiring companies in force, and privately admitted that it didn't handle the integrations well. Many of the long-time Googlers felt that their elite membership was being diluted, and their standards were being compromised. The product Google wanted from DoubleClick – display advertising – was run out of New York; there was considerable debate whether satellite (no – "distributed") offices like Chicago should be brought in at all. The mood in our office grew tense in those final weeks, and as a manager, it was my job to provide vague reassurances even as I stack-ranked my staff with the knowledge that someone would merge my list with others and draw a strike-line, separating the "ins" from the "outs." Rumor said that the bloodletting would happen on Friday April 4^th, but privately, my boss told me and my fellow engineering managers to make sure everybody was in the office on Wednesday the 2^nd. That night, I told my wife that if any of my team was cut, I'd want to be among them; I'd have a hard time dealing with the loss of any one engineer. The next day, I got the chance to live up to my words.

There were three possible fates for a DoubleClick employee that Wednesday: to be laid off outright, to be converted to a full-time Googler, or to be placed on a fixed-term contract. My boss pulled me aside just as I walked in the door, and told me that my team was safe. But I would be put on fixed-term employment for one year, and then laid off. My ego folded like a broken lawn chair. How did this happen? There was nothing in my performance, qualifications, or even popularity that could have predicted it. Later, I would learn that the "merged list with a strike line" was an over-simplification of the process by which Google eliminated 25% of DoubleClick-Chicago's workforce. Great people were terminated, including our Senior Director, whom many of us low-level managers saw as a mentor. At the time it was hardly a comfort.

I continued contributing as best I could during that final year, taking advantage of the vast learning opportunities Google afforded. My boss wanted to find a way to convert me to full time status, but the ways of getting things done in the Google bureaucracy eluded us all. Conversion was a possibility dangled in front of me from the very beginning of my Google tenure, but I quickly learned to put it out of my mind – it was a hope that carried too much painful baggage. By all accounts, conversion could only be gained by going through Google's "front door" interview process, and I wasn't interested in being rejected twice. After our team's third "realignment" in January, this time under a Director from the Pittsburgh office, my boss found someone who seemed sympathetic to his cause. This new Director said he would do what he could to make sure Google "corrected its mistake" and kept me on – and he appeared to have the political savvy to do so.

At the beginning of my final month, the Director set up a meeting with his HR recruiter to instruct me on what I needed to do to keep my job. The recruiter told me that I would have to go to Mountain View for a battery of five one-hour engineering interviews involving brain-teasers and writing code on a whiteboard. I would also need to supply two references, external to Google – despite the fact that anyone who could be a reference in the last five years now either worked for Google, or wanted to hire me into his own organization. The process was no different than off-the-street applications, except that I was guaranteed the face-to-face interviews. It was insulting. I was hired into Performics/DoubleClick after two months working there as a consultant – I was given no interview, and was asked to name my price. But it wasn't enough for Google that I had worked for them a year, and that even one of their Directors considered me "essential to the product's success." On the morning I told my boss that I would not be pursuing the conversion interview, I felt blissfully light. That feeling lasted the entire day, until at 5pm, the Director called and asked what he could do to change my mind – there may even be some flexibility in how the interview was conducted, he said.

My wife saw that as confirmation of something she had long suspected. They wanted me, she said, and they would find a way to make it work, acting within the process. There was no reason not to do the interview, and then I could see what Google would put on the table, and compare it with the other job opportunities I was exploring. So I studied for a week. My last computer science course was more than 15 years ago, and though most of the topics never arise in day-to-day work, Google still sees itself as a computer science R&D organization. Its culture is of computer scientists, and that would be how I was evaluated, regardless of my actual duties. The Director set up my interviews in Cambridge, Massachusetts instead of Mountain View, California so I could be interviewed by engineers in a "distributed" office who did not have as much exposure to the DoubleClick acquisition. By the time I flew there, I was cautiously optimistic. I had reminded myself how to analyze algorithms in "big-O" notation, and suggest data structures that would optimize for speed or space. I knew how to search and sort from scratch, manipulate linked lists, traverse trees, find shortest-paths on graphs, count permutations and combinations, and twiddle bits. I was as ready as I was going to be.

I bombed the interview. A non-disclosure agreement prevents me from getting into specifics, but the interview was purely technical, and while I could readily answer about half of the questions, for the other half, when I didn't glom onto the "trick" embedded in the questions, I spun my wheels. Despair is the great enemy of thoroughness and creative thinking. Once I started to sink, I sunk fast. The interviewers were friendly, even kind, but well before the end of the day, I knew I was finished. A week after the interviews, the Director confirmed it – again, with the utmost kindness. "I'm sorry – I failed," he said. "I tried to make it work, but I couldn't." But of course, it was I who had failed, and with three days left at Google, I allowed myself – finally – to check out, grumpy that I had allowed Google to slap me twice. More than anything else, though, I felt relief. I had spent a year preparing myself to leave Google, and I had already secured a job – under the same former-Senior Director whom I considered a mentor. One of the provisions of my fixed-term contract was a "completion bonus," which, combined with my severance, meant that I would walk away with 85% of my annual salary in a lump sum. For someone who had been laid off in this economy, I was in excellent – even enviable – shape.

This evening, I stopped by the old office to meet a friend. Without a key card, I had to wait for him in the lobby – a rueful feeling, in a place where I once had free rein – but I got the chance to greet several former colleagues as they left work. We chatted about what they were doing, and what I was doing, and I began to realize, hearing the familiar laments of issues and deadlines, just how refreshing it was to have finally moved on.

Brown Like Me

2009-03-08T20:49:00.004-05:00

After his Republican response to President Obama's Congressional address, I declared that I was embarrassed, on behalf of Indian-Americans, about Bobby Jindal.

I do realize that statement was bold-to-ridiculous. Jindal, an honors biology graduate from Brown and a Rhodes Scholar with a Master's degree in political science from Oxford, is the youngest of the current state governors and the first Indian-American elected to that office. Jindal's speech may have been clumsy, and I might take issue with his logic, but "embarrassment" seems presumptuous. I was challenged, however, not on comparative credentials, but on my speaking on behalf of Indian-Americans. Said one friend-of-a-friend, "that would be like me being embarrassed of Timothy Geithner on behalf of Caucasians...sounds silly doesn't it?"

This is the point when dialogue shuts down. At this point, the brown person tells the white person he doesn't understand what it is to be a minority, and the white person asks how we can make progress if we don't "move beyond race." Bobby Jindal certainly seems eager to move beyond his race. In high school, he converted from his parents' Hinduism to Catholicism, and he even changed his given name, "Piyush," to the slice of Americana with which he best identified: Bobby Brady, of "The Brady Bunch." He speaks with a folksy drawl, and has named his youngest son "Slade." In an interview on "60 Minutes," Bobby and his wife Supriya said that their Indian heritage doesn't really factor into their daily lives. They were raised American. No doubt this makes Bobby Jindal more palletable to a constituency that elected a former Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan to Congress.

I was also raised American. Growing up in Omaha, Nebraska, there were only about one hundred Indian-American families in town. My circulation within that small community was limited to being dragged to weekend parties, where I spent evenings with the other kids in someone's basement, watching TV, while our parents upstairs spoke, ate and dressed "Indian." Most of my friends were not Indian, and with those few who were, our ethnic bond felt incidental, an artifact of our parents more than ourselves. And yet, whenever I'd see an unknown South Asian face on the sidewalk or in a store, something curious would happen. One or both of us would catch the other's eye, smile, and nod. Sometimes those smiles would become small-talk. Sometimes the small-talk would try to become conversation, though I shied away from it. This was not something that would happen with passers-by of any other ethnicity. It continued when I moved to Chicago, where Indian faces were by no means rare. It continued wherever I would travel to where Indians were a minority. My brown face gave me an automatic kinship, welcome or not, with other brown faces. I didn't think much about it -- it's part of who I am.

Indian cuisine, music and cinema has seen a surge of popularity in the United States. It doesn't make sense for me to feel validated by that, any more than it does to feel kinship with a stranger because of our skin. But from having seen many Indian-Americans high-fiving at "Slumdog Millionaire's" eight-Oscar victory, I can tell I'm not alone. I suppose it's a little like rooting for the home team; you may not be on the field yourself, but somehow, their pride in victory is yours, as is their humiliation in defeat. Maybe I'm wrong to look at Bobby Jindal's brown face and believe that he represents "my kind" in the public forum. It's obvious from his beliefs that he doesn't. And if his success was abetted by his renunciation of his heritage and name, well, who am I to judge? But when I hear him using Hurricane Katrina as an argument against Federal funding, or advocating the teaching of Intelligent Design despite holding an Ivy League biology degree, I wish that, in the eyes of this country, he looked a little less like me.

Fixtures

2009-02-17T23:06:00.002-06:00

A cousin of mine recently commented that she was strangely comforted by seeing the same people hanging out in a coffee shop she revisited after nine years. I share the sentiment. If life is a journey that sometimes doubles back on itself, it's comforting to have these fixtures in the landscape. They reassure one that some things do endure, remind one of good times, and even prove, by contrast, how far one has come. I don't think the pleasure they give is the same thing as nostalgia, which romanticizes the past. If anything, these fixtures look a little smaller, a little humbler, than when they were first encountered. These are not the people or things that have grown with me. They are the things that, in some ways, I've left behind.

A tiny sampling of the fixtures in my personal landscape, in no order of significance:

My mother's childhood home in Nagpur, India -- though how much longer it will remain a "constant" is up in the air
The Omaha Public Library, near the house where I grew up -- specifically, the outside ledge that used to be my hideout
The Comic Book Guy at the Dragon's Lair in Omaha -- I went back recently, and he still runs his shop after more than 30 years
The Omaha Community Playhouse, where my Junior High self was inspired to fancy myself a "theater afficionado"
Buffalo Joe's, in Evanston, my first exposure to the Buffalo Wing
The Lakefill at Northwestern, where I took many walks, discussing many things that seemed vitally important at the time
Old Peculier Ale -- shared with Jon at Mr. Toad's in Omaha, my first "pub hangout"
The Briarwood apartments in Madison, my first home-on-my-own
The Espresso Royale on State Street and the terrace by the Student Union -- my Madison reading haunts when I didn't want to be by myself, but I had nobody to call
The bars near State and Division in Chicago, where we started our evenings with such hope, and ended them with such disappointment -- and kept repeating the cycle
The Michigan Avenue offices of the National Association of Realtors, where I spent some of the richest unproductive hours with Mike and Francisco
The Kopi Cafe in Andersonville where I went on two dates; the second of which led to marriage
More music, books and movies than I could name

My contract with Google will be over in April, which means that I'll soon be bidding farewell to people and a product with whom I've worked for five years. In times of change, these little touchstones put things in perspective. I will move on. I'll grow, and change, and acquire wisdom. And it'll be better than okay.

But no, I'm still not going to my high school reunion!

Inauguration From the Office

2009-01-20T12:00:00.000-06:00

We ducked out of our meetings to watch Obama's inauguration from our big "tech talk" videoconference room. We're a predominantly liberal lot, and the one guy who clapped when Obama thanked Bush for his service was briefly the focus of some sixty stares. Ironic, then, that the big screen was tuned to FOX news. I wasn't as moved as the people we saw on TV, even some in the room. I did vote for Obama, and I recognize the history unfolding, but some of the catharsis I see worries me. This is no "mission accomplished;" this is the beginning of a hard, long road. I'm happy we have a smart man in the White House, but even so, progress will be hard-won. I'm hoping that the emotion I saw was not the joy over a supposed savior, but a hopeful rededication of purpose on behalf of all citizens. We'll see.

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Hitting the Bottle: Turley 2005 Howell Mountain Zinfandel, Dragon Vineyard

2009-01-16T19:06:00.009-06:00

It's the premier of the final half-season of Battlestar Galactica. We have a Lou Malnati's deep-dish pizza in front of the television, and it's time to hit the bottle. This time, it's a 2005 Turley Zinfandel I've been saving. It's a pretty, translucent color in the glass, like the skin of a black cherry. It smells like I just stomped through a field of red raspberries, but underneath that, there's a whiff of something like Coca-Cola. If they made Raspberry Coke, it would smell something like this. And on the first taste... if cola wasn't sweetened by anything but a squeeze of blackberry juice, that'd come close to the flavors. But this is a hefty sip with tannins that stay on your tongue with a taste that'd come from something smelling of cedar. A couple of years ago, I tried a bottle of this wine that was a fruit-bomb, a riot of raspberry and blackberry jam with lots of pepper and woody spice. Now, it's a little more calm and smooth. This is a food wine, but this pizza isn't the right match. This wine wants something savory, something roasted. Slow-cooked beef ribs, where the meat falls off the bone. No barbecue sauce, mind you. Just roasted meat and the subdued blackberry and cedar of this wine.

Glass number two. Maybe my pizza smell is overwhelming it, but blackberries and cola are tight, reluctant to waft out of the glass. A deep sniff gives me a red streak of raspberry, jazzy and then gone. Is this Turley past its prime? It has been lying around the condo for more than a year, subject to B's 80-degree thermostat and Remy's incessant tail-swatting. I'll get this pizza out of the way... There we go -- dried raspberries and blackberries, and the first sip fills the mouth with dry, woody fruit and spices. This is not a cocktail wine -- you have to keep eating, or it'll suck the moisture out of your mouth. Feh. This wine is too somber. Turley, I remember when you were fun. What happened? I don't have any barbecue for you, and you're just clobbering this tomato sauce.

Glass numbers three. And four. Okay, this isn't a wine for my pizza, so it's time to start dealing with it on its own terms. It's giving me some fruit -- dry and almost bitter -- and a lot of scented wood. This is good. This is a dry dinner wine. It's also thick and hefty in the mouth -- thick as whole milk. Salty bacon bits from our salad make the fruit a little brighter, but this is still dark, deep stuff. After some salt-and-savory, I got a mouthful of blackberry jam with a peppery bite. These are spikes. This wine wants to percolate in the lower registers; it talks like Brando in The Godfather -- nearly incomprehensible if you're paying attention, but sit back, let your mind wander, let its tastes play around on your tongue. This is actually a damn good wine. I'm sorry I doubted you Turley. You're A-OK in my book.

My wife is telling me to drink water. This is a good idea. It's time to say night-night to Turley. I'll see you again when I have barbecue. Or pot roast. Yeah, that'd rock.

Winter Whiners

2009-01-15T21:55:00.005-06:00

It has been snowing for days here in Chicago. There has been a lull today -- but that was just because the temperature dropped into the negative double-digits, obliterating moisture at the molecular level. This happens every year. And every year, we Chicagoans start to whine. "Why do we live here?" "This town isn't fit for human habitation." But, of course, it is, and we do. The perpetually cheery kids who want "a moment of your time" to save the environment/children/whales are still standing at every corner in the Loop. The homeless guys are still out in force, asking for change, somehow less bundled-up than they are in the summer. And the Urban Professionals like me scurry from their warm lofts to trains/busses/cabs to the office and then back again, bitching about the weather to whomever will listen.

And we all listen, because we're from Chicago, it's winter time, and we're bound together in our annual ritual of suffering. Chicago folks know how wind off the lake can cut through four layers of clothing. We know how shoes and pant legs from the knees down become a dull, uniform gray from the salt. We know how frozen nostril hair crunches as we breathe. And we know that the skin in that unprotected oval between the bottoms of our hats and the tops of our scarves can bypass the sensation of "cold" entirely and go straight to "pain." Most of us have a story about having to eat snow off the roofs of our cars while stuck in an icy five-hour traffic jam. We tell these stories to our friends-in-warmer-climates. It makes us feel tough by comparison, and it makes them feel smart by comparison. Everybody wins.

I do think Chicago blossoms in the summer precisely because it suffers through the winter. The warm weather is a catharsis. It is not taken for granted. But I like winter in itself too, though I don't say that where my wife will hear. Few scenes are as hauntingly lovely as moonlight reflected on new snow, the hush in the air as it falls in big, fluffy flakes. The gray, dirty city turns clean and white, if only until morning. Remy likes it too: after a snowfall, he charges through snow banks, pokes his nose under the drifts, and chases after snowballs that vanish on impact. After the snow falls, the landscape is new, bright, and begging to be explored.

Hitting the Bottle: Jessup Cellars 2003 Estate Bottled Cabernet Sauvignon

2009-01-10T19:47:00.007-06:00

It has been snowing nonstop for the last two days, I'm still achey from working out for the first time in months, and it's time to hit the bottle. Jessup Cellars, 2003 Estate Bottled Cabernet Sauvignon, which Bela and I brought back from Napa Valley.

Oh yeah -- plum-dark and thick enough to be opaque, and it smells like spiced blackberry jam. And cream. That comes from the oak, right? Another sniff -- gingerbread. But enough foreplay. Time to drink up.

Thick as milk, this one, and spicy -- cinnamon and pepper -- and raspberries. This is like raspberry jam on a fresh-baked scone. (It's smelling like bread now. That soft, fresh-baked white bread that's just out of the oven and light as air. With a bit of nutmeg floating in the background. It's like Christmas at a baker's house.)

Okay, glass number two. Or is it three? I dunno, we're watching the first half of Battlestar Galactica Season 4, in preparation for the premier this month. The glass keeps refilling. It's so good, though. I can't say that it pairs with the super nachos I made for our BSG marathon, but what would? Nachos are beer food. And maybe Malbec food. But hey, it has spiced ground sirloin, so that kinda goes with a spicy, jammy Cab. Nah, not really, but that's okay -- it's big enough to trounce even my nachos. This reminds me of those gigantic Australian numbers, the Shiraz wines and such.

Last glass of the bottle. So yummy. If there was a BYOB serving venison with a raspberry sauce, this would be the bottle I'd bring. This stuff is like velvet on the tongue. There are tannins, sure, but they're soft. Silky, even. And just like that, it's gone. My beautiful Jessup Cab is no more. And we have five more episodes of BSG on the DVR. But 'tis the nature of pleasure to be ephemeral. Goodbye, fair Cab. Until the next.

O Tannenbaum

2008-12-26T11:26:00.004-06:00

Having a woman in the condo makes a difference in all sorts of subtle ways. We're cooking at home more often and the music that's playing is from outside of my own, tired play list. And we have a Christmas tree. Bachelor-Raj didn't bother with such things -- home was a place to sleep in, watch TV, and dump my stuff before going out again. B's putting back the touches of "home." Our tree is tiny, fake, and cost us $5 as a Christmas Eve purchase at Ace Hardware, but it's something to liven up the place while we figure out what to do with all the boxes we need to unpack.

I'm Bringin' B Back

2008-12-23T10:45:00.004-06:00

Last weekend, I brought B home from Washington DC to Chicago. Because loading, unloading and driving a U-Haul 700 miles wasn't enough of a challenge, we did it just as the snow and ice storms began pounding the Midwest. Sixteen months ago, we drove to DC in a rented Jeep with a few boxes, a couple of suitcases, and room to spare. That the return trip filled up a ten-foot truck is yet more evidence of the correlation between time elapsed and volume of possessions. It's a pity there's no such correlation with living space. We were fortunate that my brother-in-law still lived like my old college roommate, sleeping on a mattress on the floor -- to him went the bed, dresser, and nightstand. But right now, the condo is decorated with pillars of boxes, a 32" LCD television lying on a beanbag, and clothes. Oh, the clothes.

The drive itself wasn't bad. Yes, there was a learning curve with the truck -- even the smallest U-Haul is exactly as wide as some of DC's narrower streets, and the side-view mirrors stick out a good deal wider. This means that it's entirely possible for a tree branch to thwack the passenger-side mirror, which, even at speeds lower than 30 mph, will shatter half the mirror. (Yes, I know this empirically.) Side mirrors are important on a truck; there is no other rear-view option. And yes, I learned that if you accidentally get turned around on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, you'll have to drive 30+ miles to get turned back the right direction. And yes, U-Hauls don't have CD or tape players. But the drive from Washington DC to Toledo Ohio had clear weather throughout, and when the storms hit between Toledo to Chicago, the truck could plow through the worst of it.

The unloading was the bad part. In -30 degree windchill, unloading 15 boxes, some suitcases, paper bags of odd, loose items, and a television was decidedly unpleasant. Unloading the bedroom set on the ice-buried street in front of my brother-in-law's place was pure hell. People parked on the streets were trying to free their cars using shovels and pickaxes. Arjun and I carried furniture over a jagged obstacle course of snow-covered ice, with the wind tearing through our scarves. But I will give credit to the U-Haul folks. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit, or maybe it was just too damn cold and too close to closing time, but the people at the U-Haul dropoff told me not to worry about the broken mirror, and said they wouldn't charge me the $361 for returning the truck to the wrong office.

It's done. I had nightmares about driving the truck the following night, but I slept hard. The condo is a disaster, and the clean-up and organizing effort will take up our holiday, but that's okay. B's back, and we're one household again. That makes it all worth it.

It Begins

2008-12-06T18:45:00.006-06:00

This seems like a good time to begin a personal blog. The year has been full of changes and transitions, and for those with whom I haven't spoken in a while, I have updates to provide.

Most importantly, my wife is coming back to Chicago, and we're going to live like an actual married couple again. Though being a "commuter couple" is oh-so-trendy (many are doing it, and the lifestyle even had an article in TIME Magazine this year), we've had a long-distance marriage since August 2007, not too long after our first anniversary. Seeing each other only a couple of times a month does not help when trying to build a life together. We never intended to be apart for this long. The planets of our professional lives just aligned in strange ways.

Without getting into the details (that's for B to disclose), her work took her to Washington D.C. at the end of August 2007. During this time, legal proceedings were underway in America and Europe to approve Google's bid to acquire DoubleClick, the company in which I had worked up from a sofware developer, to a technical lead, to an engineering manager. The deal was expected to close in April 2008, after which I would learn whether or not I still had a job. If I was laid off, I would move to DC and look for a job there; if I became a Google employee, we would figure out what our options were and do our cost/benefit calculus. (Google stock was still in the 800s at the time.) Either way, we expected things to be decided before the summer of 2008.

But come April, instead of hiring or firing me outright, Google offered me a one-year contract with a completion bonus hefty enough that I couldn't take my wounded pride and simply storm out the door. So we remained in limbo, with me needing to stay in Chicago until April 2009, and with no good reason for B to leave DC, where she had found both interesting work and success in her career.

Mentally preparing myself for moving to Washington DC was a process. I love Chicago. I love our River North loft, walking distance from my last two jobs. I love the friends I have here, and I love the cheap Southwest Airlines flights from Chicago to Omaha, so I can visit my parents. But I love B and her professional happiness too, and if I can't put my wife's needs ahead of my own, then I've failed to learn the lessons of the third Spider-Man movie. For the record, I would have done it. I would have moved to DC, and done so cheerfully, when the time came. But again, events took a different turn. B found a new opportunity in Chicago, which made the issue moot.

B and I are excited that she's coming home, even as we acknowledge that we'll have to get past our "set in our independent ways" mentality again, just like when we got married. It's a little bittersweet, because she has made some great friends in DC -- good people who have taken care of her and made sure she didn't get too lonely. I think I value them for that almost as much as she does. B's departure will be bittersweet, but mostly sweet. My baby's coming home!

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