... about working from home would be that I can make drummer-face as much as I want, and even do some serious chair-dancing without being disruptive.
I'll need to look into that.
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Look Out
We have oxygenated water available in our Lausanne office, now. If possible, it will make me even smarter.
I predict that, within a week, I will be able to remember which direction I was going when I went into the store.
I predict that, within a week, I will be able to remember which direction I was going when I went into the store.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Fun At Work
We did some values brainstorming yesterday at work - thinking about what's important for our company to move forward, and how we're actually doing in the things that we claim are our values now.
I loved it.
First of all, I am all over any kind of strategic, high-level, conceptual discussion like this... something that centers around the "why". I'm not sure how valued our input will be, but I love to give it.
But it was fun to make it work, too. Our regional manager introduced the workshop, which had a series of exercises and discussions designed to elicit the feedback from the group members. Then she said she'd leave it to us to organize ourselves and get it done. I was pretty curious to see what would happen... you get enough consultants in a room and things are bound to get interesting.
Now I'm not a guy who pushes my way into a leadership role, but I'm pretty happy to take it when it seems right. And this was a perfect fit for me... to keep the discussions on track, to clarify the points for people who had some trouble with the language (very few of my colleagues are native English-speakers, but the workshop and exercises were all in English), to manage the time, and to challenge the participants to get the best responses we could. Well, it wasn't long until I found myself taking it on... and I had a great time. It was cool, too, to have my colleagues thanking me after for making it work, for helping them to do something to the best of their abilities. I love that.
It's days like that that make me want to keep going back to work. I mean, there's also the fact that they keep putting money into my bank account on the 25th of the month. But days like this really help.
Cool.
I loved it.
First of all, I am all over any kind of strategic, high-level, conceptual discussion like this... something that centers around the "why". I'm not sure how valued our input will be, but I love to give it.
But it was fun to make it work, too. Our regional manager introduced the workshop, which had a series of exercises and discussions designed to elicit the feedback from the group members. Then she said she'd leave it to us to organize ourselves and get it done. I was pretty curious to see what would happen... you get enough consultants in a room and things are bound to get interesting.
Now I'm not a guy who pushes my way into a leadership role, but I'm pretty happy to take it when it seems right. And this was a perfect fit for me... to keep the discussions on track, to clarify the points for people who had some trouble with the language (very few of my colleagues are native English-speakers, but the workshop and exercises were all in English), to manage the time, and to challenge the participants to get the best responses we could. Well, it wasn't long until I found myself taking it on... and I had a great time. It was cool, too, to have my colleagues thanking me after for making it work, for helping them to do something to the best of their abilities. I love that.
It's days like that that make me want to keep going back to work. I mean, there's also the fact that they keep putting money into my bank account on the 25th of the month. But days like this really help.
Cool.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
The American Dream
So, in between preparing for the training I've been giving and trying to get rid of a virus on my laptop (if you get an email from me with a subject line of "VERRY IMPORTANT ATACHMENT! OPEN RIGHT A WAY!" you may want to proceed with caution), I have managed to delve slightly deeper into the American consciousness.
And here's what I've found.
I know that everybody says it, but it's true. The food here is just huge. I think I've finished 1 meal here (a sandwich) since I arrived. Almost everything I order seems to come family-sized. Which would be great, except I didn't bring along a family.
While I've been eating this food, I've noticed, again, how nice it is to be hearing familiar music (and by "familiar", I mean not rap and not in French). I like it... music with people singing in tune, with real guitars and drums. I hadn't realized how much I miss rock until I step back and think about how relieved I am not to be surrounded by euro-pop. It's like getting out of a stale room, somehow. It's good.
And everywhere... space. The streets are wide apart. The restaurants have miles between the tables. There are some apartments, but there are a lot of houses, even as I look into one of the business districts of the city outside of my hotel window. There's just a lot of room, and I can see why Europeans who come to Canada or the US for a little while find that so intoxicating.
The flip-side of this, though, is that I haven't been able to get a very good feel for the city. Most places I've worked, I walk everywhere. So I know how Milan or Munich or Zurich feel. I have a sense for the people, the pace, the architecture. But here, I kind of get the feeling that I'm just missing it. I guess it's a place experienced by car, not by foot. And that makes me sad.
Not sad enough that I can't make up for it with a burger the size of a small child, though. Not by a long shot.
And here's what I've found.
I know that everybody says it, but it's true. The food here is just huge. I think I've finished 1 meal here (a sandwich) since I arrived. Almost everything I order seems to come family-sized. Which would be great, except I didn't bring along a family.
While I've been eating this food, I've noticed, again, how nice it is to be hearing familiar music (and by "familiar", I mean not rap and not in French). I like it... music with people singing in tune, with real guitars and drums. I hadn't realized how much I miss rock until I step back and think about how relieved I am not to be surrounded by euro-pop. It's like getting out of a stale room, somehow. It's good.
And everywhere... space. The streets are wide apart. The restaurants have miles between the tables. There are some apartments, but there are a lot of houses, even as I look into one of the business districts of the city outside of my hotel window. There's just a lot of room, and I can see why Europeans who come to Canada or the US for a little while find that so intoxicating.
The flip-side of this, though, is that I haven't been able to get a very good feel for the city. Most places I've worked, I walk everywhere. So I know how Milan or Munich or Zurich feel. I have a sense for the people, the pace, the architecture. But here, I kind of get the feeling that I'm just missing it. I guess it's a place experienced by car, not by foot. And that makes me sad.
Not sad enough that I can't make up for it with a burger the size of a small child, though. Not by a long shot.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Flashback
I used to clean blinds.
We would go into a home or business in the morning, take down all the blinds (venetians, verticals, pleated shades...), take them back to our shop, clean and dry them, and then deliver them at the end of the day.
It was a mixed bag... it helped pay for a lot of books, classes, and food. It was a fascinating study in business process change, training, and management, because I was leading teams with extremely high turnover and had pretty free reign with how they were trained and managed on-site. It really screwed up my back. It made me appreciate, in a way that's almost scary, how good it is to have a job that doesn't require me to shower when I get home.
Anyway, today there are some guys working on the heating in our office. They're moving the desks that are close to the walls. They're moving shelves full of books. I guess in a little while they're going to start tearing stuff apart. And it's hard to do that discretely.
And it makes me remember that feeling of going into an office, having to take off my shoes and climb on desks to get to windows... struggling with blinds that were big, and heavy, and in awkward spots to reach, trying to do the best job I could... sweating, straining, sometimes really pushing myself to physical extremes that I never would have expected would be required for that job. But I could always tell what the people were thinking.... "I work in an office; he's cleaning the things that no one here wants to clean". I wanted to tell them... I'm smart, I'm capable... I could do so much more than this, if someone would just give me a chance.
Well, someone's given me a chance now, and I'm doing just fine. I'm glad that I had that experience, though, just like I'm glad I've been able to live in a place where I don't understand the language that well... where I sound like a 5 year-old when I try to speak, and make stupid cultural mistakes. Because now I know how to look at the men moving the desks like they're real people. And when I hear people speaking another language on the bus in Calgary, I'm not going to feel pissed-off or threatened. I'm going to remember being in their shoes.
I wish I was more sensitive, more sympathetic. But I'm glad that I've been able to have some experiences that, even though they've been tough, have helped me to learn a little bit of empathy. It's slow, you know? It's a lot slower than I want it to be. But I'm getting there.
We would go into a home or business in the morning, take down all the blinds (venetians, verticals, pleated shades...), take them back to our shop, clean and dry them, and then deliver them at the end of the day.
It was a mixed bag... it helped pay for a lot of books, classes, and food. It was a fascinating study in business process change, training, and management, because I was leading teams with extremely high turnover and had pretty free reign with how they were trained and managed on-site. It really screwed up my back. It made me appreciate, in a way that's almost scary, how good it is to have a job that doesn't require me to shower when I get home.
Anyway, today there are some guys working on the heating in our office. They're moving the desks that are close to the walls. They're moving shelves full of books. I guess in a little while they're going to start tearing stuff apart. And it's hard to do that discretely.
And it makes me remember that feeling of going into an office, having to take off my shoes and climb on desks to get to windows... struggling with blinds that were big, and heavy, and in awkward spots to reach, trying to do the best job I could... sweating, straining, sometimes really pushing myself to physical extremes that I never would have expected would be required for that job. But I could always tell what the people were thinking.... "I work in an office; he's cleaning the things that no one here wants to clean". I wanted to tell them... I'm smart, I'm capable... I could do so much more than this, if someone would just give me a chance.
Well, someone's given me a chance now, and I'm doing just fine. I'm glad that I had that experience, though, just like I'm glad I've been able to live in a place where I don't understand the language that well... where I sound like a 5 year-old when I try to speak, and make stupid cultural mistakes. Because now I know how to look at the men moving the desks like they're real people. And when I hear people speaking another language on the bus in Calgary, I'm not going to feel pissed-off or threatened. I'm going to remember being in their shoes.
I wish I was more sensitive, more sympathetic. But I'm glad that I've been able to have some experiences that, even though they've been tough, have helped me to learn a little bit of empathy. It's slow, you know? It's a lot slower than I want it to be. But I'm getting there.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Speakerphone
It is okay to use speakerphone when multiple people need to be involved in the same conversation, and you're not in an office where they can simply all be conferenced in on their own handsets.
It's not okay to:
1. Keep trying a number that's busy
2. Use it just because you're too lazy to actually reach down and pick up the phone
3. Pretend that the dialing sound is like music, and everyone will be happier if they can hear it
4. Share a fabulous "your call is very important to us..." on-hold message with the entire office
This is what triggers workplace violence; I just don't want to be the guy who illustrates the point.
It's not okay to:
1. Keep trying a number that's busy
2. Use it just because you're too lazy to actually reach down and pick up the phone
3. Pretend that the dialing sound is like music, and everyone will be happier if they can hear it
4. Share a fabulous "your call is very important to us..." on-hold message with the entire office
This is what triggers workplace violence; I just don't want to be the guy who illustrates the point.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
British Nathan
He's back, and it's cool. For never considering myself much of a room-mate kind of guy, I sure like it when Nathan's in town. I drink more tea. I have more good conversations. I get an appreciative audience to show my progressing mix-downs to. The little chick likes to get him to read stories to her. And every once in a while I get to hear him play.
Very nice.
And I can't wait for the weekend. I know it's only Thursday, but I'm ready. I was ready yesterday, in fact.
In other news, I've installed a tea station at our "office" (in the client offices) in Lugano. There is a coffee machine on our floor, but it's one of those ones with terrible instant coffee - absolutely brutal. A kettle, a few cups, the hotel is kind enough to leave tea in the rooms that we can bring with and - voila - instant team spirit. It's cool.
Ummmmm.....
You know when you get to that point in a phone conversation where you don't really want to hang up, but you also don't have anything else to say? That's kind of where I'm at, now.
So, I guess, talk to you later?
Very nice.
And I can't wait for the weekend. I know it's only Thursday, but I'm ready. I was ready yesterday, in fact.
In other news, I've installed a tea station at our "office" (in the client offices) in Lugano. There is a coffee machine on our floor, but it's one of those ones with terrible instant coffee - absolutely brutal. A kettle, a few cups, the hotel is kind enough to leave tea in the rooms that we can bring with and - voila - instant team spirit. It's cool.
Ummmmm.....
You know when you get to that point in a phone conversation where you don't really want to hang up, but you also don't have anything else to say? That's kind of where I'm at, now.
So, I guess, talk to you later?
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
I'm Still Here, Wearing A Suit
Sorry for the big gap. I've been pretty busy, had guests, been a little sick, and looking after a little chick who has been more sick. I've been thinking about you, but haven't been writing.
I was in a meeting all day today with clients from the bank I'm working at, people from our project, and people from our R&D department. Our people - who usually dress casually for work at our own offices but dress up to go to the clients - brought the dress code up a few notches for the meeting.
The bank people, who are always in suits at their own office, dressed casually to come see us.
And yeah, I know: I talk a lot about clothes for a straight man. I've learned to accept it. But I think that next time, somebody really should coordinate this. I mean, is this the kind of meeting that requires a tie or isn't it? And how is it that we can't even agree on the "when I'm at my office I'll wear jeans and when I come to yours I'll dress up" thing? Aren't there rules about this somewhere?
And here's the other thing I think about suits in general: unless there are some of us who don't feel competent in choosing a non-uniform set of clothing in the morning, no one is going to feel more comfortable working in one than out of one. Yet we all wear them. Why? We wear them to impress them. They wear them to impress us. In the end, no one is really that impressed. Except my dry-cleaner.
I think suits should be saved for nice dinners; wearing them should be a special occasion. Work is everyday. It's normal. Why not go ahead and dress like it is? Otherwise, we men have nowhere to look to take it up a step other than a tuxedo.
And that's a pretty big step.
I was in a meeting all day today with clients from the bank I'm working at, people from our project, and people from our R&D department. Our people - who usually dress casually for work at our own offices but dress up to go to the clients - brought the dress code up a few notches for the meeting.
The bank people, who are always in suits at their own office, dressed casually to come see us.
And yeah, I know: I talk a lot about clothes for a straight man. I've learned to accept it. But I think that next time, somebody really should coordinate this. I mean, is this the kind of meeting that requires a tie or isn't it? And how is it that we can't even agree on the "when I'm at my office I'll wear jeans and when I come to yours I'll dress up" thing? Aren't there rules about this somewhere?
And here's the other thing I think about suits in general: unless there are some of us who don't feel competent in choosing a non-uniform set of clothing in the morning, no one is going to feel more comfortable working in one than out of one. Yet we all wear them. Why? We wear them to impress them. They wear them to impress us. In the end, no one is really that impressed. Except my dry-cleaner.
I think suits should be saved for nice dinners; wearing them should be a special occasion. Work is everyday. It's normal. Why not go ahead and dress like it is? Otherwise, we men have nowhere to look to take it up a step other than a tuxedo.
And that's a pretty big step.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Good Genes
From a colleague at dinner this week, shaking her head:
"I don't get it. How do you eat like that (pointing at a rapidly-disappearing steak) and look like that (pointing at me)?"
Sure, I haven't been approached by GQ (recently) and won't be invited to open tryouts for... well, any Olympic team, but in the great genetic lottery, I'll take what I can get...
Have a good weekend, everyone!
"I don't get it. How do you eat like that (pointing at a rapidly-disappearing steak) and look like that (pointing at me)?"
Sure, I haven't been approached by GQ (recently) and won't be invited to open tryouts for... well, any Olympic team, but in the great genetic lottery, I'll take what I can get...
Have a good weekend, everyone!
Monday, August 20, 2007
Count 'Em
I decided that before I start editing pictures, I should organize them a bit. After all, I (may) have taken 300 shots of the city hall in the sunset, because it was just spectacular. That doesn't mean that anyone wants to see them all. In fact, something around 200 would probably do the trick.
It's going to take a while to edit them, but I'll let you know what's on my photo site and put a few of my favorites here as we go along. Just so you know what to expect:
Buildings - 145 images. Stockholm has absolutely gorgeous architecture, and it was hard to stop trying to capture it. Maybe if I can get some help I'll even try to tell you what's what.
Design - 95 images. A fair bit of stained glass, some graffiti, some details of buildings, sculpture, and, of course, a police dummy. Any anything else I thought looked cool but didn't fit any of the other categories.
Nature (animals) - 33 images. Mostly seagulls, dragonflies, and a bunny, cause everybody loves bunnies.
Nature (sky and water) - 80 images. The only thing that kept this from being way higher is the fact that I made the next category.
Nature (sunsets) - 70 shots. Ones that are more sunset, less building.
People (beautiful) - 285 images. Maybe not all beautiful in the classical sense, but beautiful to me. These are my favorite.
People (circus) - 39 images. I saw a circus guy on the little island we landed on after sailing on the first day. Well, I saw his troop performing downtown a few days later.
People (drunk guy) - 14 images. The guy dancing with the bottle on his head. Yeah, baby!
People (friends) - 33 images. Dorothy & Richard and family, and me and Johan.
People (interesting) - 43 images. Striking, but not beautiful? You decide. Sometimes, it's not who it is, it's what they're doing.
People (look-a-likes) - 10 images. Sting, Brad Pitt, and Anna Kournikova.
People (hair and wind) - 21 images. They may be beautiful, they may be interesting, but the best thing about them is their hair in the wind.
People (posed) - 22 images. They wanted me to take their picture, so I did.
People (vibe) - 78 images. They somehow just capture something about the feeling of the city.
My computer tells me that, after doing a lot of deleting, I have 984 files in my Stockholm directory.
Time to get editing...
It's going to take a while to edit them, but I'll let you know what's on my photo site and put a few of my favorites here as we go along. Just so you know what to expect:
Buildings - 145 images. Stockholm has absolutely gorgeous architecture, and it was hard to stop trying to capture it. Maybe if I can get some help I'll even try to tell you what's what.
Design - 95 images. A fair bit of stained glass, some graffiti, some details of buildings, sculpture, and, of course, a police dummy. Any anything else I thought looked cool but didn't fit any of the other categories.
Nature (animals) - 33 images. Mostly seagulls, dragonflies, and a bunny, cause everybody loves bunnies.
Nature (sky and water) - 80 images. The only thing that kept this from being way higher is the fact that I made the next category.
Nature (sunsets) - 70 shots. Ones that are more sunset, less building.
People (beautiful) - 285 images. Maybe not all beautiful in the classical sense, but beautiful to me. These are my favorite.
People (circus) - 39 images. I saw a circus guy on the little island we landed on after sailing on the first day. Well, I saw his troop performing downtown a few days later.
People (drunk guy) - 14 images. The guy dancing with the bottle on his head. Yeah, baby!
People (friends) - 33 images. Dorothy & Richard and family, and me and Johan.
People (interesting) - 43 images. Striking, but not beautiful? You decide. Sometimes, it's not who it is, it's what they're doing.
People (look-a-likes) - 10 images. Sting, Brad Pitt, and Anna Kournikova.
People (hair and wind) - 21 images. They may be beautiful, they may be interesting, but the best thing about them is their hair in the wind.
People (posed) - 22 images. They wanted me to take their picture, so I did.
People (vibe) - 78 images. They somehow just capture something about the feeling of the city.
My computer tells me that, after doing a lot of deleting, I have 984 files in my Stockholm directory.
Time to get editing...
Monday, August 6, 2007
I'm Going On Strike
At least, I would like to.
I was in Budapest this weekend with some friends, and we had a great time. I'm going to tell you all about it. I even took a bunch of pictures, and I think there are a few that turned out pretty well. But they're not quite ready.
That's because last night the security and fuel personnel in the Budapest Airport decided that the Sunday evening after a F1 race would be a great time to strike.
Before I get into the story, can I just say that I hate unions? I'm not 100% sure, but I think I hate all unions. I don't pay you. I don't decide how you working conditions will be set. You never asked me for a raise. So why do you want to make me late? Here's the thing: just because you can doesn't mean you should.
When we got to the airport, there was a huge line, and several flights delayed. It turns out that when those people are on strike:
Consequently, you have to take my word that this could probably be really funny, if I wasn't so tired. More to come in the next few days, but now, I'm going to bed.
I was in Budapest this weekend with some friends, and we had a great time. I'm going to tell you all about it. I even took a bunch of pictures, and I think there are a few that turned out pretty well. But they're not quite ready.
That's because last night the security and fuel personnel in the Budapest Airport decided that the Sunday evening after a F1 race would be a great time to strike.
Before I get into the story, can I just say that I hate unions? I'm not 100% sure, but I think I hate all unions. I don't pay you. I don't decide how you working conditions will be set. You never asked me for a raise. So why do you want to make me late? Here's the thing: just because you can doesn't mean you should.
When we got to the airport, there was a huge line, and several flights delayed. It turns out that when those people are on strike:
- The airlines have trouble checking in bags because there aren't any security people to make sure they aren't full of explosive sneakers
- The planes can't leave because they don't have any fuel in them
- When they check in the people who don't have luggage, they still can't get to the gate to board the plane that isn't leaving since they're supposed to go through security first
- All the passengers assume that the flights will leave at more or less the right time, so they decide they need to get through security anyways
Consequently, you have to take my word that this could probably be really funny, if I wasn't so tired. More to come in the next few days, but now, I'm going to bed.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Alinghi, Part II
Well, we did it. We won the America's cup back to back, and I was almost there to see it... in fact, most of our Geneva office cleared out for a few minutes while we headed over to the Jardin Anglais across the street to catch the last bit of the race. It may be a bit much to say the tension was palpable, but there were quite a few people out to cheer on their crew despite the rain. I have the distinct feeling that this is a sport where are little more knowledge would go a long ways in my appreciation of it, but it is fun to watch, and it was cool to share the win with everyone gathered in the park.
It was a little bit odd that the high point (in terms of energy) was when then they started throwing Alinghi hats out into the crowd after the race was over. But that's nit-picking, I suppose. And, in true Swiss style, the place started to clear out very shortly after the win, with everyone back to work or to waxing their sidewalks or whatever it was they were doing before. I love this place.
It was a little bit odd that the high point (in terms of energy) was when then they started throwing Alinghi hats out into the crowd after the race was over. But that's nit-picking, I suppose. And, in true Swiss style, the place started to clear out very shortly after the win, with everyone back to work or to waxing their sidewalks or whatever it was they were doing before. I love this place.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Happy Friday
I'm at the airport, again.
The passport guy asked my about the little chick this morning. My coffee was already waiting when I got to the bar at gates B21-28. The first thing I did when I got to the gate was look around for friends.
I think I may fly more than I should.
I'm ready for a Friday... I do enjoy my job, but not enough to make me want to do it on the weekend. So, I foresee some music, some pictures, a new decorative addition to my fridge (custom fridges... wave of the future?), some time with my little chick, some time with friends, and a wonderful, wonderful weekend. Hope yours is, as well.
[EDIT] Yeah, ended up knowing two people on the plane. Definitely too much.
The passport guy asked my about the little chick this morning. My coffee was already waiting when I got to the bar at gates B21-28. The first thing I did when I got to the gate was look around for friends.
I think I may fly more than I should.
I'm ready for a Friday... I do enjoy my job, but not enough to make me want to do it on the weekend. So, I foresee some music, some pictures, a new decorative addition to my fridge (custom fridges... wave of the future?), some time with my little chick, some time with friends, and a wonderful, wonderful weekend. Hope yours is, as well.
[EDIT] Yeah, ended up knowing two people on the plane. Definitely too much.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
I Forgot, Part II
Well, at least I remembered my mp3 player. But I forgot my toiletries bag. So, in the interest of keeping my job and perhaps my friends, at lunch I wandered off in search of a toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant. I found them. I bought:
1 OralB Cross-Action toothbrush (brand new, never used)
1 tube of Crest toothpaste (which fights cavities on teeth AND roots. Finally!)
1. stick of Borotalco deodorant. Catchy name, eh? Another fine example of Swiss marketing savvy.
And for this, I paid 32 CHF. That's about $30 CDN, or $26 USD.
Now I've lived in Switzerland for long enough to have learned how to deal with obscene prices. But this is crazy. I better smell really, really good after this. And not get cavities in my roots.
1 OralB Cross-Action toothbrush (brand new, never used)
1 tube of Crest toothpaste (which fights cavities on teeth AND roots. Finally!)
1. stick of Borotalco deodorant. Catchy name, eh? Another fine example of Swiss marketing savvy.
And for this, I paid 32 CHF. That's about $30 CDN, or $26 USD.
Now I've lived in Switzerland for long enough to have learned how to deal with obscene prices. But this is crazy. I better smell really, really good after this. And not get cavities in my roots.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Socks
For me, this is the epitome of the wisdom found in that old saying, "don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today."
I usually try to match my socks after each load of laundry so there are fewer to deal with. But sometimes I'm in a rush - I need to get them out of the way and I don't have time to put them together. That's a bad idea.
Today, I used my last matched pair of black socks. And was faced - taunted, even - by about 3000 individual black socks sitting in my drawer. Of those 1500 possible pairs, I have about 1480 different styles. These styles share about 99.98% of their sock DNA in common. Generally thin, with very few distinguishing features... there's one pair with pinstripes, a couple with a distinctive band around the top, but most are just.... black.
And to make it worse, there are some blue ones in there - very dark blue that have an identical style to some of the black ones, and completely indistinguishable under incandescent lighting, but, once in natural light, show their true colors.
And so I am faced with a choice. I could spend most of Sunday surrounded by a pile of socks, or I can hope for sunshine and the start of sandal season. Looking at the forecast, I don't like the direction this seems to be going. Or how about this - if anybody is free on Sunday, maybe we can have something like an old-fashioned barn-raising party. You know, lemonade, pound cake, and good friends in a circle, sharing stories, laughing and matching up socks. We could even do like a "go fish" kind of game or something. They're all clean, after all.
Any takers?
I usually try to match my socks after each load of laundry so there are fewer to deal with. But sometimes I'm in a rush - I need to get them out of the way and I don't have time to put them together. That's a bad idea.
Today, I used my last matched pair of black socks. And was faced - taunted, even - by about 3000 individual black socks sitting in my drawer. Of those 1500 possible pairs, I have about 1480 different styles. These styles share about 99.98% of their sock DNA in common. Generally thin, with very few distinguishing features... there's one pair with pinstripes, a couple with a distinctive band around the top, but most are just.... black.
And to make it worse, there are some blue ones in there - very dark blue that have an identical style to some of the black ones, and completely indistinguishable under incandescent lighting, but, once in natural light, show their true colors.
And so I am faced with a choice. I could spend most of Sunday surrounded by a pile of socks, or I can hope for sunshine and the start of sandal season. Looking at the forecast, I don't like the direction this seems to be going. Or how about this - if anybody is free on Sunday, maybe we can have something like an old-fashioned barn-raising party. You know, lemonade, pound cake, and good friends in a circle, sharing stories, laughing and matching up socks. We could even do like a "go fish" kind of game or something. They're all clean, after all.
Any takers?
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Parisians I Have Known/Best Beer In The World
I was in Brussels for the last couple of days. I love Brussels. I love the art. I love the architecture. I love the mussels, and I especially love the beer. I was giving training, and it went well.
I can tell already that this is going to be a bit scattered. Oh well. If you pretend I'm talking really quickly it will probably help it seem a bit more natural, though still just as scattered.
Anyways, the nature of training that we give to new people in our company is that someone, and perhaps everyone, is bound to be confused. To do the kind of work I do, you just need to understand two things, roughly: computers and banking. But it turns out that most of the people who know any amount worth knowing about one of these topics know next to nothing about the other. Not that these are stupid people by any means - these are just not two streams that meet often.
As a result, what tends to happen is that, when I am talking about the business concepts, especially the details of the day-to-day activities of private bankers, the IT people either glaze over or look frightened. And when I talk about the technical side of things, the bankers either glaze over or start making phone calls. But no matter what I talk about, somebody is threatening to glaze over. I hate the glaze, but I'm never far from the glaze.
Most of the people I "train" are more experienced than I am, are older than I am, have been working longer, and know much more about either one side or the other (business or technical) than I do. But the good news is I like to talk, and I love to help people understand things, especially if they are also interested in understanding them. So I'm more than happy to dive in and give it my best shot, and every once in a while it works. After the final session today, one of the men who had been there told me that he had done a lot of training, and he knew the challenges in it, but that I had been flawless. To be honest, I would trade "flawless" for "impassioned" every time, but from a banker from Luxembourg, flawless is not too far down on the scale of possible compliments.
And, as usual, it was an interesting mix of people. Also, as usual, in the interest of keeping my job and professional reputation (such as it is) intact, I'm not going to say much more about it than that, but I will say that last night I had dinner with three absolutely lovely Parisians.
Now, the three of them had just come to Brussels on the train that morning, sat through my training in English all day, and were still kind enough to allow me to tag along with them for the evening. And here's the kicker: they continued to speak in English. Every once in a while they would lapse into French, but as soon as one would see me approaching the glaze, they would apologize, recap what they had been talking about (!), and then continue in English.
Now, make sure you get all the sides to the story, here. They had been through a long day of fairly demanding training. There were three of them, and one of me. We were in a French-speaking country. Yet they made an effort to make me feel comfortable and included. So it turns out that Parisians are not rude, self-absorbed and insensitive. These ones, at least, were very much the opposite. They were great.
And it was truly a wonderful evening. When we arrived in the grand place, I kicked myself for not bringing my camera. The old town hall was lit up in a brilliant white light, and though the sun had gone down a little earlier (the reason I left the camera in my room), but sky behind it was still a brilliant, rather light blue, and framed it perfectly. It was breathtaking. I just stood and tried to drink it in, knowing it would never last in my mind the way that I was seeing it, but determined to try. What a beautiful city.
And then there's the beer. Wow. If I had any doubts before, they are gone now. If I could only have beer from one country for the rest of my life, it would be Belgium. So much variety and depth and complexity in the flavors... it's just incredible. I had a beef stew with new potatoes, made in Leffe Brun, and, for dessert, my very first Belgian waffle, which was good but not as good as the beer.
Then I had a wonderful conversation with a new colleague (who had been in my training) on the way home. When I got back to Geneva I went to spend some time with a friend and had a bowl of homemade soup and another great talk. Then I came back to the apartment and had yet another lovely chat with Nathan.
Unfortunately, I need to get up in a little under four hours to get the train to Milan with some friends. So it's been a wonderful few days, and I think the weekend is going to be absolutely spectacular, and I wanted to write about it because I appreciate you coming here to read. But I'm pretty tired now and need to get to bed. Right after I pack. Uggghhh.
More in a couple of days, if I make it.
I can tell already that this is going to be a bit scattered. Oh well. If you pretend I'm talking really quickly it will probably help it seem a bit more natural, though still just as scattered.
Anyways, the nature of training that we give to new people in our company is that someone, and perhaps everyone, is bound to be confused. To do the kind of work I do, you just need to understand two things, roughly: computers and banking. But it turns out that most of the people who know any amount worth knowing about one of these topics know next to nothing about the other. Not that these are stupid people by any means - these are just not two streams that meet often.
As a result, what tends to happen is that, when I am talking about the business concepts, especially the details of the day-to-day activities of private bankers, the IT people either glaze over or look frightened. And when I talk about the technical side of things, the bankers either glaze over or start making phone calls. But no matter what I talk about, somebody is threatening to glaze over. I hate the glaze, but I'm never far from the glaze.
Most of the people I "train" are more experienced than I am, are older than I am, have been working longer, and know much more about either one side or the other (business or technical) than I do. But the good news is I like to talk, and I love to help people understand things, especially if they are also interested in understanding them. So I'm more than happy to dive in and give it my best shot, and every once in a while it works. After the final session today, one of the men who had been there told me that he had done a lot of training, and he knew the challenges in it, but that I had been flawless. To be honest, I would trade "flawless" for "impassioned" every time, but from a banker from Luxembourg, flawless is not too far down on the scale of possible compliments.
And, as usual, it was an interesting mix of people. Also, as usual, in the interest of keeping my job and professional reputation (such as it is) intact, I'm not going to say much more about it than that, but I will say that last night I had dinner with three absolutely lovely Parisians.
Now, the three of them had just come to Brussels on the train that morning, sat through my training in English all day, and were still kind enough to allow me to tag along with them for the evening. And here's the kicker: they continued to speak in English. Every once in a while they would lapse into French, but as soon as one would see me approaching the glaze, they would apologize, recap what they had been talking about (!), and then continue in English.
Now, make sure you get all the sides to the story, here. They had been through a long day of fairly demanding training. There were three of them, and one of me. We were in a French-speaking country. Yet they made an effort to make me feel comfortable and included. So it turns out that Parisians are not rude, self-absorbed and insensitive. These ones, at least, were very much the opposite. They were great.
And it was truly a wonderful evening. When we arrived in the grand place, I kicked myself for not bringing my camera. The old town hall was lit up in a brilliant white light, and though the sun had gone down a little earlier (the reason I left the camera in my room), but sky behind it was still a brilliant, rather light blue, and framed it perfectly. It was breathtaking. I just stood and tried to drink it in, knowing it would never last in my mind the way that I was seeing it, but determined to try. What a beautiful city.
And then there's the beer. Wow. If I had any doubts before, they are gone now. If I could only have beer from one country for the rest of my life, it would be Belgium. So much variety and depth and complexity in the flavors... it's just incredible. I had a beef stew with new potatoes, made in Leffe Brun, and, for dessert, my very first Belgian waffle, which was good but not as good as the beer.
Then I had a wonderful conversation with a new colleague (who had been in my training) on the way home. When I got back to Geneva I went to spend some time with a friend and had a bowl of homemade soup and another great talk. Then I came back to the apartment and had yet another lovely chat with Nathan.
Unfortunately, I need to get up in a little under four hours to get the train to Milan with some friends. So it's been a wonderful few days, and I think the weekend is going to be absolutely spectacular, and I wanted to write about it because I appreciate you coming here to read. But I'm pretty tired now and need to get to bed. Right after I pack. Uggghhh.
More in a couple of days, if I make it.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
Settle A Bet
At breakfast this morning, one of my colleagues came to the table with a bowl of cut strawberries and pineapple, and a whole kiwi. This struck me as a bit odd, since there was a whole bowl of fresh, cut kiwis with the rest of the fruit. So, I asked her why she would take one that she was going to have to peel when someone else had already peeled some for her, and she said that it was for the vitamins - that once fruit was cut, it would lose its nutrients.
I guess I may have looked a bit sceptical.
Two others chimed in with support for her theory - that any fruit that's been cut and out for an hour is way less healthy than fruit that hasn't been. I did not buy it, and told them so in my very politest voice... thankfully, all three of them know me so it wasn't a problem, but as soon as breakfast was over I got onto the internet to find the truth (becuase if there's one place you can be sure of finding the truth, it's on the internet).
Turns out, it makes very little difference if fruit has been cut or not, and some fruit can actually become more beneficial with air exposure.
What I find amazing about this is not that there are drastic differences between how Europeans and North Americans think about food and nutrition, nor that my spidey sense is in good working order... it's just trying to remember how we settled things like this before the internet. I remember with a friend of mine from Calgary... we would occasionally disagree about the correct pronunciation of a word, and while neither of us is super-competitive, both of us love to learn, so we would gleefully head to a dictionary and look it up... not really caring if we were right or wrong, but being thrilled at the prospect of just being a little bit better, in some way, because of the search. But for other things that were a little tougher to research, we ended up in more than one (amicable) deadlock.
There are three things that I love about the internet. I can find information (about important topics like the effect of being cut on the vitamin content of fruit) in a dizzyingly short amount of time. It lets me join communities of interest, like with my cigar guys, that can turn into real relationships and real friendships with very real people. And third, it lets me communicate with people I care about, no matter where (or when) we are. Sure there's a lot of crap on it, and I have seen close-up that it can be used in destructive and terrible ways.
But it's pretty killer for settling a bet.
I guess I may have looked a bit sceptical.
Two others chimed in with support for her theory - that any fruit that's been cut and out for an hour is way less healthy than fruit that hasn't been. I did not buy it, and told them so in my very politest voice... thankfully, all three of them know me so it wasn't a problem, but as soon as breakfast was over I got onto the internet to find the truth (becuase if there's one place you can be sure of finding the truth, it's on the internet).
Turns out, it makes very little difference if fruit has been cut or not, and some fruit can actually become more beneficial with air exposure.
What I find amazing about this is not that there are drastic differences between how Europeans and North Americans think about food and nutrition, nor that my spidey sense is in good working order... it's just trying to remember how we settled things like this before the internet. I remember with a friend of mine from Calgary... we would occasionally disagree about the correct pronunciation of a word, and while neither of us is super-competitive, both of us love to learn, so we would gleefully head to a dictionary and look it up... not really caring if we were right or wrong, but being thrilled at the prospect of just being a little bit better, in some way, because of the search. But for other things that were a little tougher to research, we ended up in more than one (amicable) deadlock.
There are three things that I love about the internet. I can find information (about important topics like the effect of being cut on the vitamin content of fruit) in a dizzyingly short amount of time. It lets me join communities of interest, like with my cigar guys, that can turn into real relationships and real friendships with very real people. And third, it lets me communicate with people I care about, no matter where (or when) we are. Sure there's a lot of crap on it, and I have seen close-up that it can be used in destructive and terrible ways.
But it's pretty killer for settling a bet.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
My Commute
As I have most weeks for the last year and a half, I flew to Lugano this morning. A couple things have changed since my regular visits before Christmas – instead of muffins, they are now serving little cinnamon buns with the coffee in the morning. That’s good – the muffins were not that great. And the hat guy is gone. I have mixed feelings about that.
He used to fly the same days as me (GVA -> LUG Wednesday morning and then LUG -> GVA on Thursday night). He would get on the plane, and, with a line of people waiting behind him, he would slowly set his bag in the overhead bin. Then he would carefully take off his and put it up, as well. Then he would take off his scarf, fold it gently, and put it into the bin. Then he would take off his coat, fold it, and look distressed. He would take the hat and scarf out of the bin, and put the coat in, and, somewhat relieved, put his hat and scarf on top. Then he would take off his suit jacket, fold it, and look at the pile of coat, scarf, and hat with bag beside them like someone had put them in while he wasn’t looking. Where was he going to put his suit jacket? Tears would start to form at the corners of his eyes, and… well, things usually went downhill from there.
And, when we landed, he would go through the entire process again, in reverse.
I was fascinated by the hat guy, but I became… let’s not say “obsessed with”, but perhaps “interested in” getting a seat in a row closer to the front than he had. I mean, it was pretty funny to watch the first couple of times, and always interesting to see the absolute incredulity of the people standing behind him, but I didn’t like being one of the people standing behind him. I’m the guy who, when I get to the security check, has already transferred everything to my jacket pockets and my PC ready to pull out of my bag. When I get to the gate to board, my ticket is ready, along with my music and the book I’ll be reading on the plane. I do this every week, and it’s not rocket science. Or even physics. Anyways, thanks to the wonders of the telephone check-in system I was usually able to get a seat low in frustration but high in entertainment. He’s not flying any more, though. I don’t know if he stopped working with his company, if his project ended. Maybe he decided he likes the train since he can take 6 hours to arrange his things. But I miss him. I hope that, somewhere, he and his hat are okay.
Much of the rest remains the same, reminding me why, if I’m going to have to travel, this is a pretty good option.
I almost always meet a friend/colleague who is on the same flight.
Darwin continues to recruit their stewardesses, it seems, based almost solely on how beautiful their eyes are. When she handed me my cup of almost-hot coffee and little glass of juice this morning I felt like I was being given… I don’t know… A BRAND NEW CAR! Or, at least, something much better than warm coffee and sample-sized orange juice. Nice.
And then there’s the other view… the sun rising over the Alps. It takes my breath away, every time. It is a heart-wrenching, want-to-burst-into-song, my-God-is-amazing kind of beautiful. I am not much of a scenery guy (except in Tuscany… and Scotland… and maybe one or two other places, but that’s it, really), but the light of the early morning sun reflecting on the snow, the jagged peaks stretching for as far as I can see, the wisps of cloud shrouding the valleys like some sort of divine secret… I am in awe. It’s incredible.
All in all, not a bad commute. Now if I could just do something about the coffee….
[EDIT]: Want more? Click here for the return of the Hat Guy.
He used to fly the same days as me (GVA -> LUG Wednesday morning and then LUG -> GVA on Thursday night). He would get on the plane, and, with a line of people waiting behind him, he would slowly set his bag in the overhead bin. Then he would carefully take off his and put it up, as well. Then he would take off his scarf, fold it gently, and put it into the bin. Then he would take off his coat, fold it, and look distressed. He would take the hat and scarf out of the bin, and put the coat in, and, somewhat relieved, put his hat and scarf on top. Then he would take off his suit jacket, fold it, and look at the pile of coat, scarf, and hat with bag beside them like someone had put them in while he wasn’t looking. Where was he going to put his suit jacket? Tears would start to form at the corners of his eyes, and… well, things usually went downhill from there.
And, when we landed, he would go through the entire process again, in reverse.
I was fascinated by the hat guy, but I became… let’s not say “obsessed with”, but perhaps “interested in” getting a seat in a row closer to the front than he had. I mean, it was pretty funny to watch the first couple of times, and always interesting to see the absolute incredulity of the people standing behind him, but I didn’t like being one of the people standing behind him. I’m the guy who, when I get to the security check, has already transferred everything to my jacket pockets and my PC ready to pull out of my bag. When I get to the gate to board, my ticket is ready, along with my music and the book I’ll be reading on the plane. I do this every week, and it’s not rocket science. Or even physics. Anyways, thanks to the wonders of the telephone check-in system I was usually able to get a seat low in frustration but high in entertainment. He’s not flying any more, though. I don’t know if he stopped working with his company, if his project ended. Maybe he decided he likes the train since he can take 6 hours to arrange his things. But I miss him. I hope that, somewhere, he and his hat are okay.
Much of the rest remains the same, reminding me why, if I’m going to have to travel, this is a pretty good option.
I almost always meet a friend/colleague who is on the same flight.
Darwin continues to recruit their stewardesses, it seems, based almost solely on how beautiful their eyes are. When she handed me my cup of almost-hot coffee and little glass of juice this morning I felt like I was being given… I don’t know… A BRAND NEW CAR! Or, at least, something much better than warm coffee and sample-sized orange juice. Nice.
And then there’s the other view… the sun rising over the Alps. It takes my breath away, every time. It is a heart-wrenching, want-to-burst-into-song, my-God-is-amazing kind of beautiful. I am not much of a scenery guy (except in Tuscany… and Scotland… and maybe one or two other places, but that’s it, really), but the light of the early morning sun reflecting on the snow, the jagged peaks stretching for as far as I can see, the wisps of cloud shrouding the valleys like some sort of divine secret… I am in awe. It’s incredible.
All in all, not a bad commute. Now if I could just do something about the coffee….
[EDIT]: Want more? Click here for the return of the Hat Guy.
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