Two Cents and a Thousand Words Life

The Luxo Jr. shift

Just over a decade ago I started my college’s computer science program. I’d always loved computers; I remember the days playing games on the computer of my best friend who lived down the street, before my family bought one of our own. Once we did, I remember writing stories on some old DOS software and then finally venturing into the world of Windows 3.1 and Windows 95.

I was rather late to the Mac owners’ guild, at least by my friends’ standards; I started with one of the Luxo Jr.-style iMac G4s with the round base and the flat panel in April 2002, during my first year of college. Now of course I’d used Macs before I’d entered college; some of my first experiences with computers were on Apple IIe boxes in my elementary school’s computer lab, playing really basic games in green pixels on a black screen with nothing but a 5 1/4″ floppy drive. Through middle and high school I worked on a bunch of computers through my school’s technology clubs and programs, and for my junior and senior year in high school, I took some time in an independent study to refurbish Power Macintoshes with a goal of supplying each classroom in the building with a computer with OS 7.6. Through this love of tinkering, I entered college thinking computer science was a natural choice. I still use the concepts I learned in those first C++ classes every day.

The big shift

But after I set that iMac on my dorm room’s desk, something happened. I started looking at more than just the code. I studied how things looked and worked. If it didn’t make sense, I wasn’t happy with it. It wasn’t enough for me to go from point A to point B in a program – you had to get there well. You had to get there and enjoy the experience. Now of course, this kind of thing didn’t make sense to a lot of the computer people around me at the time; computers are supposed to help us get something done, so who cares how it works as long as it works?

Eventually I switched to new media to investigate some of these other facets of technology, and I ended up graduating with a degree in new media and minors in computer science and psychology.

I never noticed it until a few days ago, but there’s a strange correlation between the time I’ve used Macs and the time I studied design, usability, and how technology feels. And though I’m still technically a coder both by title and occupation, my true love has really grown into this analysis of how things work, how they’re used, and in a similar vein, how we can use technology to do things we’d never imagined possible.

Time travel

I have no real interest in time travel. I doesn’t really care to see what life was like when dinosaurs roamed the earth, and I don’t really want to see how life will be two hundred or a thousand years from now. I like living where I am and seeing where it goes on its own. But if there’s one journey I’d make, I’d take my iPad back to around 1950. I’d like to show those people what we can do: the power we hold in our hands with a magical web that connects all of us, and this device I hold in my hands. I’d show them that this machine, lighter than most books, can access an almost infinite amount of information as well as being used for drawing, used for reading, used to hear and see entertainment, used to see a friend’s face in real time from across the country or the world. I’d like to see their reaction, and I’d want them to guess the time from which I came. I think a lot of them might expect the 2300s or 2400s. I’d love to see what they would say when I told them we’d have all this power, all this possibility, in our hands in less than a century.

Now of course, Steve Jobs isn’t solely responsibly for my shift to design and usability, and he’s not solely responsible for the technology we hold in our hands that would baffle and mystify those living just a few decades ago. But more than any other single person, Steve showed us that it’s good to push the expectations of what is necessary and possible.

I respected a lot about Steve. I respected his taste, his refinement, his eye for a good idea. I loved the way he thought through a product and wasn’t satisfied with anything less than the best.

I’m just glad I was alive to see everything that’s happened over the last decade, and I’m excited to see where we go next. Above all, it’s safe to say that if there’s one person in my lifetime I see as an inspiration, it’s Steve. Thanks for all you did, both for the world and for me.

The dancers down the hall

I’m at the University of Maine right now, looking down the hall at a bunch of barefooted undergrads walking around outside Hauck Auditorium. It’s second nature for them; they’re dancers taking a break while practicing for the dance showcase later this week. They’re not even dancing, but I’m smiling here in the Union’s Lookout area.

A bunch of people always ask why I spend so much time taking photos of the dance shows here. The simple answer: I love it. I’ll take as much time as I possibly can spare to watch dances, plays, and concerts. I love the passion, the creativity, and, in the case of dance, the athleticism and artistry.

But there’s a larger reason, too. We’re at a great time for the arts for central Maine. There’s a core, devoted group of people who are trying to do everything possible to create a vibrant arts community in the area. Ten years ago, nobody would think that we’d be able to bring top-tier acts to the Bangor area. This year, we have Lady Antebellum, B.B. King, and many more visiting the Bangor waterfront. The Folk Festival brings 100,000 people each August to appreciate music from all around the country. Bangor area theatres are packed for amazing productions.

The dancers down the hall are doing their part. Over the past few years, I’ve met many of them in one way or another, and they all love to perform and love to push the envelope of what they can do. They’ve brought the dance program forward, and they’ve brought dance outside the auditorium to the stages of UMaine and beyond.

I bring my camera not only because there are hundreds — if not thousands — of beautiful shots within each performance, but also because I want to capture all of this as it happens. I want to embrace the creativity and innovation that’s happening every day around me in any way I can.

Maine — and the world — is changing, and I want to be there. I may not be one of the dancers down the hall, but like each of them, I can’t stand still.

The future of Maine

When I was looking at the candidates for governor last year, the question on the ballot to me really wasn’t a question of party; it was a question of a vision for Maine. I’ve come to love Maine as a place of progress, of beauty, and of opportunity, and though we may be going through a tough time right now, I’ve always felt that Maine’s strongest attraction is what it can offer that other places can’t. From the beautiful coastline to its welcoming people, I think Maine is a place that can not be matched anywhere else in the world.

So when I looked at last year’s candidates, I was struck by the difference in opinion of how things should be done. One side seems to stress the potential of Maine that’s usually used in tourism materials: a beautiful, open, free state with lots of possibilities for recreation and for a great way of life. The other side seems to think that the solution for the state’s problems is near-completly business-centric, in that if we make it easy for business to come and stay here, the state will end up back on track.

I love Maine businesses, and I’m quite happy to say that we have more than a few really successful businesses in our state. But the problem with encouraging business unconditionally is that it impedes on the characteristics of Maine that make it special and unique. Over the first few weeks of LePage’s administration, I’ve realized that I was on track with my thoughts last year; while I honestly believe that LePage wants what is best for the state of Maine, I see his approach as misguided and short-sighted.

My biggest fear of the LePage administration is that they believe the ideal state of Maine is the political equivalent of Marden’s. They’d stress that a philosophy like that would make it easy and inexpensive to do business. Don’t get me wrong – I love Marden’s. But if you were planning a week’s vacation, would you want to spend it at Marden’s? I want to be sure that the promise of Maine as a unique state that offers attractions that nobody else can isn’t lost in a quest for rock-bottom prices and the ideal business climate. There’s plenty of space to build a landfill on Old Orchard Beach, but nobody likes to sunbathe on trash.

Maine can be a state that moves forward and embraces the future, or we can go back and try to live in the past. I want my rugged coastline. I want my trails through the woods. I want my neighbors to be free and equal and lead the life they should have the privilege to lead. I want my Maine to be an example to the rest of the world. I want my Maine to move forward instead of sliding back.

(I’d also recommend reading this article by Perry B. Newman in The Forecaster.)

From the clouds to the track

I’ve struggled with the notion of a dream job my whole life (I’ve covered this before – a few times, actually). I’m getting closer to an idea of what that might be for me, but at this point I still don’t think I have a solid idea. As a result I’ve never been able to set my sights on a single idea.

The flaw with the parking lot state of mind is that I always build upon a collection of ideas. It’s tough for me to focus. I’m impatient about what I want to do, and I have more-than-a-handful of projects that I want to do right now. Problem is, instead of actually doing enough work on any one project to make something, none of them ever reach a point of “doneness.”

One of my overall goals for 2011 is to move my mind from the clouds to the track. Right now I have eight projects I really want to do; two and a half of them you know (Sephone, Pine Tree Photography, and Another New World), and five and a half of them you don’t (yet). This year, instead of racing back and forth between them all in my mind, I’m going to try a schedule. I’m going to try to work for a while on one, and hopefully its progress or completion will make it easier for me to work on another. I’m going to resist the temptation to do them all right now and try my hardest to focus.

Along the way, I’ll probably write a bit here about what I’m doing to keep my mind on track instead of in the clouds for these projects. Hopefully it will help to make 2011 a great year for the projects I want to do.

Political extremism and mental instability

It’s sad when a tragedy divides more than it unites. Let’s look at the aftermath of the assassination attempt yesterday in Arizona.

Much of the controversy that erupted after the shooting stemmed from a post by Sarah Palin last March in which Giffords was one of twenty senators quite literally put in the crosshairs of a fundraising map; Palin also encouraged supporters to “reload” on Twitter that same day.

There are really two separate issues in play here. Most criticism seems to be focus on whether Palin’s map contributed to the motives of the shooter and whether Palin should be accountable for his actions. Just as important, I’d argue, was whether the map was a good idea in the first place.

Many people (including a number of Palin supporters) have argued over the last 24 hours that the shooter was clearly unstable and, even if he cites Palin’s map as a motivation for carrying out the act, couldn’t possibly have interpreted the map as it was intended by Palin. It’s a good point; no sane person would ever gun down a representative in a crowd and kill innocent people, among whom were a federal judge and a nine-year-old girl. Was the shooting the fault of Palin or other politically-charged figures, like Giffords’s opponent last year who felt it was a good idea to hold a campaign event to “target” Giffords in which supporters could shoot an M16? No. They can’t be held accountable for the actions of crazy individuals.

But was the map a good idea in the first place? As Giffords herself said in March, there are “consequences” to energized and polarizing speech. Was it really necessary, and does it help advance political discourse in this country? Conservatives have no shortage of material to use when appealing to those who disagree with the liberal agenda. Escalating partisanship to its current levels will inevitably lead to an increase in violence; as Paul Krugman writes, “violent acts are what happen when you create a climate of hate.”

Palin’s team conceded, in essence, that the map was in poor taste when they removed the page with the map from its original location shortly after the shooting yesterday. The question we face is whether this tragedy will cause us to reconsider how candidates appeal to their supporters; will it encourage them to be civil and respectful about those who hold elected office, or will we continue down the path to turbulent black-and-white politics?

My favorite music of 2010

Music is a huge part of my life. I carry my iPod with me everywhere I go, and it seems as though I always have some kind of track playing in the background when I work. My taste is a bit eclectic, but I thought it’d be interesting to go through my top music for 2010. (And yes, I know some of these tunes were released before last year, but I discovered or purchased all of these within the last twelve months.) Preview almost all of the songs listed below with the AmazonMP3 player to the right (the tracks in there and the album links below are affiliate links).

Beat the Horse, Pomplamoose
If you’re not sick of hearing me talk about Pomplamoose yet, I don’t know where you’ve been. The star YouTube duo films every instrument and vocal track they use for a tune and then stitches them all together into a video that’s as well-produced as the song itself. “Beat the Horse,” one of their earlier works, is hands-down my favorite song – and this is the first time I’ve ever been able to say that about any single track. It’s a catchy tune with great instrumentation by Jack, some killer vocals by Nataly, and a great video. They do covers, too; if you’re new to the duo, I’d recommend listening to their own arrangements of “Telephone” and “Makin’ Out.”

Rio, Hey Marseilles
I saw Hey Marseilles at the KahBang opener at the Brick Church in August. It was a great venue for their high-energy performance, and it turned out to be one of my favorite memories of the summer. The song manages to include a bunch of my favorite instruments, and I can’t help but beat my hand against something when that drum sounds.

Far Away, Ingrid Michaelson
I’d seen the name “Ingrid Michaelson” appear more than once on Pandora stations, and I finally decided to give her music a serious listen in the early part of the year. I soon realized that a bunch of my friends were also Ingrid fans, and I was able to see her perform at L.L. Bean in Freeport in August. She even gets bonus points (not that she needs them) for spending a bunch of time in Maine and writing “Far Away” about a second life she’d like to live off the coast of the Pine Tree State. Girls and Boys as a whole is a great listen.

Far From Home, The Gabe Dixon Band
The piano is my favorite instrument, and The Gabe Dixon Band rivals Ben Folds as my favorite piano rock artist. After the band’s name kept appearing on my Pandora stations, I thought I should give their self-titled album a try. I’m really glad I did; when I need to rock out, I press play on “Find My Way” or “Till You’re Gone.” The album is now one of my favorites.

16 Military Wives, The Decemberists
I’m a sucker for brass. Take a good beat, add some politically-charged lyrics, and stick a great horn section near the end of the song. I didn’t have a chance. I’m not as much of a Decemberist fanatic as some people I know, but this song is in constant rotation on my five-star iPod playlist. (The video for the song is really fun, too, if you haven’t already seen it.)

Ain’t Nothing Wrong with That, Robert Randolph & the Family Band
Apple and Amazon should really thank the dancers at UMaine for encouraging me to spend money on music over the last few years. I caved in and bought “Ain’t Nothing Wrong with That” after a bunch of awesome people pulled off a little stunt in the Memorial Union in Orono. It joins a growing list of songs by Hellogoodbye, Of Montreal, and others that make me remember some great creativity on campus.

Work It Out, RJD2
Guess what? It’s another find thanks to YouTube. RJD2 paired with artist/dancer Bill Shannon for a pretty creative expression of “Work It Out”; after I saw the video, I had to check out his other music. I love it all. I’d call RJD2′s music mature electronica; it’s music that’s very rhythmic, infused with a host of genres (blues, hip-hop, and more), and keeps you hooked from the moment you start listening.

Maybe True Stories, Lauren O’Connell
Lauren’s another YouTube discovery. She’s a great east-coast-turned-west-coast singer-songwriter who manages to write sometimes fun, sometimes thoughtful, sometimes poignant, but always real lyrics. Her studio albums are terrific (buy The Shakes. really.), and her YouTube versions, created a la Pomplamoose and often with some creative instrument choices, are always a lot of fun. “Maybe True Stories” is my favorite of hers. Lauren’s currently planning to record a new album and has some unique incentives available if you’d like to support her. (For more Lauren check out My Terrible Friend, a duo project with Nataly of Pomplamoose.)

Mr. Blue Sky, The Sing-Off
Amid an over-commercialized sea of American Idol and Glee musical programming, The Sing-Off offered some hope. The show gathered a handful of amazing a capella groups and created some true gems. An ensemble performance of ELO’s “Mr. Blue Sky” rivaled the SoCals’ Journey medley and the Beelzebubs’ The Who medley as my favorites from the first seasons. A capella is truly amazing when done well.

We Used to Wait, Arcade Fire
As a geek I was inspired by Arcade Fire’s super-innovative “We Used to Wait” web “video” released partially as a showcase of the possibilities within HTML5. The tech is great, but the song is even more impressive. It’s fun to crank as I, uh, go the speed limit while driving down I-95.

White Knuckles, Ok Go
I’d known about Ok Go long before 2010, of course, but I became a true fan after hearing that they’d be in Bangor for the KahBang festival in August. The concert was amazing (and included a great view of Damian), and Oh No has been cycling through my ears regularly ever since. When “White Knuckles” hit YouTube in September, amazing got even amazinger.

Overture, Daft Punk
I haven’t seen the new Tron, but after hearing from about 90% of my friends that Daft Punk’s soundtrack to the film was in-freakin-credible, I decided to seize the opportunity of an AmazonMP3 sale and buy it sound unheard. I love film music, and I love Daft Punk (“Robot Rock” is another new favorite of 2010, for completely different reasons). The Tron Legacy soundtrack is what you’d expect to happen if Discovery or Human After All had a lovechild with John Williams and somehow managed to mix in a bit of Danny Elfman. Yeah. Buy the album.

Final thoughts on the Maine gubernatorial race

If you want to see what’s wrong with Maine, look no further than the gubernatorial race this year.

Maine’s a state that doesn’t know what it wants. We know we’re not in a good place right now, but we don’t know how to move forward. Many of our key industries (forest products, shoes, and more) have moved in large part overseas or to more business-friendly locales in North America. On top of that, we’re an aging state, and many of the people my age leave the state in order to find better jobs in places where the kind of jobs we want are more available.

Now look at this year’s gubernatorial race. The three serious contenders for the office have either worked in politics for decades or, in the case of LePage, help run a business that screams “old Maine.” Compared with the 2008 national election during which two charismatic forty-somethings – relative newcomers in politics – took center stage, the policies raised in Maine’s gubernatorial race make it seem like we’re stuck in the past.

Vision for the future, however, isn’t dependent on youth. Unfortunately, this year’s candidates seem to believe that we can find success by tweaking the Maine of yesteryear. We can shrink government. We can consolidate and reorganize schools. Those proposals don’t encourage students to stay in Maine after they’ve graduated. They don’t encourage businesses to be innovative and try new ways of making money. They’re just a way to console voters by saying, “We know it’s rough. But we’ll change some things, and it’ll be better.”

Our next governor needs to look beyond our past to find the solutions to the state’s problems. We need to encourage and invest in new ways of attracting new kinds of business to Maine. We need to support our wonderful tourism industry and allow people to visit our state easily and frequently. We need to support biotechnology, genetics, wind power engineering, call centers, and telecommuting. We have a beautiful state with a great way of life, and we need to use that to our advantage in every way we can.

Above all else we need to encourage young people to stay in the state after they graduate high school and college. We can reform our government and educational system all we want, but Maine can not keep losing its children. If we don’t encourage youth in our state, it will continue to grow harder to foster innovation and the change we need in Maine.

I’m a 27-year-old lifelong Mainer, and I was very disappointed by the choices in this year’s gubernatorial race. If we’re going to move Maine forward, a change in residency in the Blaine House isn’t going to be enough. We all need to do our part to make Maine better.

The order in which I would have voted for gubernatorial candidates had they appeared on the ballot

1. Peter Mills
2. Steve Abbott
3. Rosa Scarcelli
4. Steve Rowe
5. Matt Jacobson
6. Eliot Cutler
7. Pat McGowan
8. Libby Mitchell
9. Shawn Moody
10. Kevin Scott
11. Paul LePage
12. Bill Beardsley
13. Bruce Poliquin
14. Les Otten

I voted for Cutler. What’s your list look like?

EvDaWriMo

For a number of years I’ve had three main pillars that I enjoy: web development, photography, and writing. Between my full-time job and a few projects I do on the side, I definitely keep my development interest going. I cover photography by going on day trips on the weekends; even though I don’t take as many photos as I did a few years ago, I still have the chance to explore and make my mind work in a creative way. Writing, however, is a different story; I haven’t focused on that lately, and I really miss it.

The month of November is National Novel Writing Month, known as NaNoWriMo. People who take part in NaNoWriMo strive to write a 50,000-word novel between November 1 and November 30. A few of my friends on Twitter are trying it out, and I wish them the best of luck. It’s a great challenge; as many writers say, the best way to improve your writing is to practice as much as you can.

I’ve never been much of a novel writer, though. One of my English teachers in high school told me that I did my best when writing concisely; I really struggle whenever I have to write anything over ten pages. I also haven’t written any real fiction since high school.

I might not have the determination to do NaNoWriMo, but I want to focus on writing in November. I’ve decided that I want to make it my goal to write something – anything – of at least 250 words every day in the month. It’s my EvDaWriMo, or every day of writing month. I might write a blog post over on our newly refreshed Sephone blog, a post at Another New World, a post here, or something on a couple of other ideas I have. I might even write some fiction. I’m not sure yet whether I’ll share everything I write, but the important part is that I just want to focus on writing for a bit.

Let’s go write!

My new netbook (wait, what?)

As those of you who have seen me rave about announcements from Steve Jobs know, I’m a bit of an Apple fan. My primary computer’s an iMac, I use a Mac mini for work, and I carry around an iPad and an iPod touch almost everywhere I go. That’s why my purchase of a Asus Eee netbook on Tuesday night might confuse a few people.

Turns out I need a computer to fit a very specific need. I’m working from home a lot more, and while I like the peace and quiet that it provides, sometimes I feel the need to actually see people every once in a while. I needed a computer with:

• Great battery life (at least 6-8 hours, for a full day of work)
• Very portable (so that I don’t need to lug around a backpack)
• Multitasking (so I can check Twitter e-mail while I work)
• A command line interface (for Subversion and server management)
• A keyboard (for long stretches of typing and keyboard commands)
• A low price tag (just in case I lose the thing; I grabbed the netbook on Newegg for under $200 shipped)

Normally I’d use my iPad out on the road. It actually features everything I’ve listed above in one way or another, but it’s an ideal machine for coding. Sure, there’s Gusto and command line apps. And Apple’s Bluetooth keyboard is pretty convenient to carry around, too; I brought it along on my trip to Acadia yesterday. It just wouldn’t work well for a full day of code, though. I need commands running in the background, multiple documents opened at once… using the iPad would kill my zone. The netbook has the added benefit of having Windows 7 (as well as Linux, once I install it), giving me a physical computer I can use to test sites on Internet Explorer instead of using Parallels on my iMac.

So yes, I bought a netbook. But I want it to be clear that I bought it for a very specific reason. If you’re an average user who spends 80% of your time on the web and reading e-mail, buy an iPad instead. I’ve had mine for six months, and I still absolutely adore it. It’s a case of different tools for different jobs; a netbook’s what I need for what I do as a geek, but for the things everyday users do with computers, I hands-down believe that devices like the iPad are the future.