Confessions of a Middle Aged Fanboy

I'm way too old for this. I certainly don't qualify for the adjective fanboy, at least the boy part, anyway. But here goes. I am ridiculously infatuated with Sara Bareilles.

Like many of her fans, I first heard "Love Song" when it was the free tune o' the week on iTunes. Saw her on a Rapsody ad. Then one day I just decided to get the album "Little Voice." And I cannot stop listening to it. Really. Like for nearly a year now.

I grew up with albums on LP, and eventually CD. But my musical appetites were formed before it was possible to buy music one song at a time. So, I am conditioned to buying an album as a collection of songs intended to be a set, some more cohesive than others. And I am accustomed to the fact that not all songs on most albums are winners. In fact, on most albums, I'm quite happy if I really like 3 or 4 songs. It's rare to find an album, particularly a big label debut, where every tune is a winner.

"Little Voices" is all that and more. Every single song is fantastic. Really. Each is a gem in its own right. And as a collection they showcase a talent unlike any other I can name. Varieties of mood, style, her use of language, her piano performance, and her rich, deep, powerful wonderfully soothing voice make this one of the best albums I can remember. Ever. Fortunately, I'm not alone in this belief.

Douglas Adams wrote about beauty and music, in a roundabout way, in one of his Dirk Gently novels. He posits a theory that what we perceive as beauty is determined by the underlying patterns our brains recognize in the structure of whatever it is. In the same way that we can catch an object by placing our hands along its ballistic path without consciously doing the differential calculus, our brains tell us when they recognize some wondrous structure by making us perceive it as beautiful. That's a really geeky way of trying to say that while there's no way I can impartially quantify what sets Sara's talent apart, I know there's something special there because my brain tells me it's uncommonly beautiful. You might see it. You might not. But that doesn't change the fact that, since I bought it, I have not been able to go for more than a few days without listening to that album.

I will not argue that she's the best singer or writer or performer that's ever been. But there's something about her talent that so syncs with my particular likes, with the patterns my brain perceives, that she's definitely going to be a favorite of mine for as long as she decides to keep making music.

And, of course, it never hurts that she's drop dead gorgeous, too.

Customer Service Overkill?

I've been a devotee of Apple products for a long time. My first computer was an Apple IIc in 1984. I've owned two PowerMacs, an eMac, a Gen4 iPod, and a Gen4 iPod mini. I currently own a MacBook, a MacBook Pro, two iPod Shuffles, and two iPhones. I've been mildly engaged in the Apple/PC wars over the years. Not militant, mind you, but ask my preference and I'll tell you. I've used PCs at work for years, but I've been paid to do so. When I'm paying for the experience I want an Apple. So, let's establish that I'm an Apple fan.

So, naturally, I was excited when I discovered our fair city was to be blessed with it's first true Apple Store. Until I'd actually been there a few times. Now that I've had the Apple Store experience I'm strangely conflicted about the whole thing. Now, it's not that this Apple Store isn't up to Apple's standards. As far as I can tell, the staff is incredibly well trained. I also think that's the problem.

An Apple Store staff is divided into classes, easily distinguished by the color of their t-shirts. There are three levels: orange for the Concierges; cyan for the Specialists; dark blue for the Geniuses. (ST:TOS, anyone? At least there are no expendible red shirts.) So, if you make it past an orange shirt, the cyan shirts will swarm you, but they dark blue shirts are kept safe behind their protective Genius Bar. You can't just walk in and look around. First the Concierge has to interrogate you as to the nature of your visit. If you make it past them, be assured a Specialist will check with you every 90-120 seconds to ensure you're still breathing and have a pulse. And don't try to approach a Genius without an appointment. This is apparently a high crime in an Apple Store. I had a relatively simple question about iTunes but was told by a Concierge that I had to make an appointment. Were any available? A quick check of the system reveals that, yes, we have an appointment open at 3:19 p.m. My watch read 3:18 p.m. at the time. Promptly 60 seconds later a fresh blue shirt emerged behind the Genius Bar to answer my simple question about iTunes libraries. So, it worked. But was all that really necessary?

Suppose you need to repair an Apple product. The backlight on my MacBook's backlit LCD screen has been intermittent of late. The screen was distinctly dark when I called.
Me: "Can I bring it in for someone to look at?"
Cyan Shirt: "Sure, just log onto the apple.com/retail site and make an appointment."
Me: "And how do I do that when my MacBook has no display screen?"
"Oh, silly me." said the cyan shirt on the phone. And then she was stumped. Really.

So my MacBook is being repaired at the local authorized Apple retailer that's been in town for decades. I walked straight back to the service counter where a wry gentleman named Willie took great care of me. And I didn't have to dodge a single orange t-shirt to get there.

I know Apple is trying to provide a great experience. And yet, somehow, it just gets in the way. Because when it's over I feel as if I've interacted with a highly sophisticated system. And all I really wanted was to talk to someone.

An Election to Remember

November 4th has come and gone. One for the history books. After an evening of sneaking peeks at election returns on my iPhone during a middle school band concert, I arrived home just as Obama was being declared the winner. After the last two contentious presidential elections, it felt odd to have everything settled before bedtime.

I do think it's unfortunate that John McCain's best speech of this campaign was probably his concession. It was as well written and as naturally delivered as any I've seen him make. I wish we'd seen more of that McCain, closer to the one in the '04 primaries, this time around. But once he was the nominee of the GOP, he couldn't be himself. And he and his party couldn't escape a failed presidency with 25% approval ratings. To quote Chris Rock, "Bush has made it hard for a white man to run for president. People are saying, 'After Bush, I'm not sure we can take another chance on a white guy.' "

I'm optimistic for the new administration. But I wasn't expecting all the immediate attention on the obviously historic aspects of electing the first African-American president. For me, Barak Obama did such a good job transcending race, I'd actually stopped thinking about it. Obviously, so did a majority of voters. But it certainly seems appropriate to stop and acknowledge what an amazing accomplishment it is. Then on to the real work. After 21 months of campaigning, the actual job he's been fighting for still doesn't start until January 20.

Ten Percent

1 in 10. 100 in 1000. 10% It doesn't sound like all that much. Unless it's people. People you've worked with and come to know over the years. People who've worked hard and contributed to the continued success of an organization.

Then times unforeseen appear. And a company decides to act decisively to prepare for tough times. And 10% of the people are gone.

Thankfully, I remain. But I can hardly feel good about it. Yes, it's better than letting people go every quarter for the next year. But it's not something anyone can be excited about. So we move on and keep trying to do what needs to get done. With 10% fewer colleagues and friends.

Somewhere

They say that everybody's got to start somewhere. So here I am.

I don't expect I'll have much to say, or anyone in particular to say it to. But decided I'd like a place for the occasional observation or rant. Whether anyone else knows about it or not.