Len's News, Notes, and Stuff

Mobile Internet is an Investment in Crap-Avoidance … and that Saves You Money!

If you have shopping urges – and be honest, you do – mobile internet can save you money.  Just this morning, as I wandered aimlessly around Wal-Mart while my car was in the shop to get winter tires put on, my having a Net connection on my phone saved me money.  Seriously.  And this wasn’t the first time, either.

Now, if you’re addicted to buying clothes, shoes and accessories – i.e. you’re a woman – this won’t apply to you 100%.  But if your purchases revolve around digital gadgets, things with electric motors, entertainment media on shiny circular discs, and things that come with spec sheets – i.e. you’re a man – trust me, spending $30 a month on a mobile net connection is worth it.

Let’s talk numbers, shall we?  Let’s use today as an example.  I was going to buy The Ultimate Bruce Lee Collection, a nice little DVD bundle for $15.  I thought about a bargain-bin PS2 game, Women’s Volleyball Championship, for $10.  That’s $25 right there.

However, I didn’t get either of those two items. Why? Because I took my phone out of my pocket, went online, and Googled some reviews.  The reviews for the Bruce Lee DVD set were ok, but didn’t wow me enough to (a) buy it, and (b) sit down and watch all 5 movies.  The reviews for the game were pitiful – in fact, they actively warned readers to avoid the game like the plague.

After that, of course I put everything back on the shelf.  As I write this, I’m still at Walmart waiting for my car – but this isn’t a post about mobile productivity, it’s about how a little investment in connectivity saves you money.  I saved $25 today because online reviews saved my ass.  $5 more, and it’d already a breakeven proposition for the month.

I am a book addict.  I buy them faster than I can read, and I really do read faster than a preschooler.  I get tempted whenever I drop into a well-stocked used-bookstore, or walk into Winners/Homesense with their discount cookbooks.  Thankfully, I have a mobile net connection – I can look up book reviews on Amazon wherever I am.  And once again, those reviews save me from buying crap, just as they did last weekend.  Or was it the weekend before?  Or was it both?

Whether it’s sporting goods, electronic gadgets, video games, movies, music (yes, some of us still buy DVDs + CDs rather than steal the content online), perfume and fragrances, cookware, groceries (hey, do *you* know how to choose a good olive oil or what the hell a chocolate persimmon is?), motor oil, lotions, potions, shampoos, household appliances, or damnit, even a frickin’ restaurant, vacation, car, or house, an Internet connection in the palm of your hand wherever you happen to be can save you from spending your hard-earned money on crap.  Heck, even if you’re a pimp and “hard-earned” is just a figure of speech, a mobile Net connection will save you money.

So if you’re tired of buying crap because you (a) just love stuff – and admit it, you do – and (b) don’t have the right information at the right time, get with it and invest a few bucks in a good data plan.

Now if you’ll excuse me, that cast iron skillet in Aisle 14 is calling my name.  There ain’t no reviews deflecting the temptation on that one.

Hey, a mobile net connection isn’t perfect, y’know.

Good Cookbooks Have Named Authors

I spend money on cookbooks even though there are free recipes online, and free recipes in papers and magazines.  I spend money on cookbooks with named authors even though the compilations by Best Cooking Ever Magazine are cheaper, and compilations titled Best Asian Food Ever are easy to find.  Why do I do this?  Because cookbooks by named authors are better.

Better how?  Fair question.  I find that the recipes are better, that’s the most important thing.  I find that I learn more from them, that’s something worth keeping in mind.  And finally, I enjoy reading them.

When you put your name on something, you are staking your reputation on the quality of that item.  In the case of cookbook authors, they’re not only staking their reputations but also their future income.  If you buy one of their cookbooks and the recipes suck, you’re not going to buy any of their other ones.

So why are the recipes in cookbooks with named authors usually better?  Because a good author will have tested and tweaked the recipes until they work well and give the results they want to produce – and which you want to produce by following the recipe!  Yes, they are skillful and knowledgeable, but they have also put in the time and considerable effort to fine-tune the recipes.  Compilation recipes will not have benefited from this kind of effort.  Free recipes you find online or in a magazine or newspaper also likely will not.

For example, I tried a free recipe for pumpkin muffins that was pretty horrible.  I didn’t realize it until I was halfway through the recipe and the process that whoever worked for the newspaper where I got the recipe from clearly had no idea what the hell they were writing.  The ingredients list and the instructions did not match – an ingredient appeared in the directions out of nowhere, late in the game and without noting how much to add.  Thanks for nothing!  But wait, that’s exactly what I paid for that recipe, so why am I complaining about getting what I paid for?

Then what about learning?  You learn little or nothing from a compilation cookbook that just lists recipe after recipe, with or without pretty pictures.  I prefer cookbooks without pretty pictures overall, but what I love about real cookbooks is the author telling you what’s going on behind the scenes.  Why is something done a certain way?  What’s the history behind this dish?  What are we aiming for with this dish or that dish?  What can be substituted, and what can’t be?  Why?

Compilation cookbooks are exercises in economy.  They are meant to be cheaply produced so that the publisher can make a quick buck.  They’re really not there to educate you.  But a good cookbook by a good author is an educational experience.  You will learn from the chef.  It’s like a little tutorial, and reading and trying the recipes will actually make you a better cook or chef yourself.  But follow a canned compilation recipe or something you clipped online or off a newspaper, and chances are you’ll learn very little.  You may get good at following that recipe, but chances are you won’t have learned anything really transferrable.

Now what about subjective enjoyment?  I like personality.  I like it when a book has personality because the author has personality.  Every chef in the world – you, me, the celebrity, the guy at the local restaurant – has a personality that comes forth in their cooking and in their words.  I enjoy reading the anecdotes, the words of wisdom and and words of admonition from named authors.  It’s like being there with them.  You get a sense for who they are.  You get a sense for what they value.  You get a sense for how they think.

And do you know what that means?  It means I know which book to pick up for ideas when I’m looking for a certain kind of approach, or if I’m feeling in a certain kind of mood and have a certain kind of attitude in mind for what I want to make.

You don’t get that from compilations and free recipes, because they are by nature devoid of character and personality.  And personally, I get very little enjoyment from being around people or items without personality.

Having a named author on the cover is no guarantee of a good cookbook.  Lack of a named author, though, is close to a guarantee that what you have in your hands is soulless, bland, and will do little to improve your skill and knowledge.

In my experience, good cookbooks have named authors.  That’s why I’ll look a little harder, spend a few bucks, and get good cookbooks from good authors.

Free-Range, Cage-Free Eggs Taste Better than Chicken-as-Machine Eggs

Am I in danger of becoming an egg snob?  Maybe.  But it has long been said that better ingredients make better food.  With that in mind, I can now say that free-range, cage-free eggs taste better than factory, stuck-in-a-cage, never-seen-sunlight, is-that-a-chicken-or-an-egg-machine eggs.

Before I tell you about my egg-tasting experience today – one that was merely fortuitous but worth talking about all the same – let me tell you why I choose to buy free-range, cage-free chicken eggs in the first place.  It comes down to taste, quality, common sense, and ethics.

Have you seen videos or photos of how chickens are raised in modern egg-producing facilities?  The chickens are cooped up in cages where they barely have space to move around, the metal grating cage floor is bad for their feet and their bodies, the things never get a chance to simply do what chickens do.  Other than eat and lay eggs.

Maybe that kind of inhumane treatment doesn’t bother you.  It bothers me.  At least a little.  I won’t pay $10 an egg to treat the chickens well, but for an extra 5 cents an egg?  Definitely.

But so what if the chickens are happier and healthier?  Other than giving those of us who think about more than just dollars and cents a warm, fuzzy feeling in our hearts, it also means a higher-quality egg.  In what sense?  Well, if chickens roamed around the city eating garbage like urban pigeons do, would you eat their eggs?  Probably not.

But why not?  I’m willing to bet it’s because you have common sense and realize the garbage-in, garbage-out rule of thumb applies to living systems.  But it isn’t just about the diet, it’s also about how healthy the entire animal is – not only physically, but also psychologically.

What kind of quality work do you produce if you were stuck in a space barely big enough to fit you, kept under constant psychological stress, and treated like a machine to just eat and produce?  Oh wait, if you’re like millions of North Americans and work in an office cubicle, that decribes your existence…

Anyhow, healthier animals create better product, whether that’s a widget, a report, or an egg.  I don’t have the lab evidence on-hand to prove this to the skeptics in the audience, but this ought to jive with common sense for most of us.

Now what about taste?  I started this post because I did a taste comparison with 2 softboiled eggs, so what was the result?

In sum:

• ŸThe caged-chicken-as-machine egg yolk was saltier, with a stronger “yolk” taste up front.  The taste was short-lived, dropping off and disappearing quickly.  No difference in the egg white, no difference in yolk color.

• ŸThe free-range, cage-free egg had a milder, “wheaty” yolk.  No initial blast of saltiness, and the overall taste was not as pronounced, but it lasted, was mellower and rounded.

The chicken-as-machine egg hit the tastebuds like a sledgehammer.  The let-me-be-a-chicken egg was more subtle, more nuanced, more interesting, and like that pink bunny with an Energizer battery up his spine, kept going and going.

The quality of chicken affects the quality of egg.  The quality of egg affects the quality of taste.  And taste is what good food is about.

The 3 Kinds Who Want War: Young Bucks, Rulers & Vendors

There are some people who like war.  It’s not the soldiers.  It’s not the generals – at least not the ones who’ve been on the line, in the thick of things.  The people who want war are those who are full of bravado but don’t know any better, those who stand to gain power, and those who stand to make money.  But I’m just going to take a few moments to talk about the folks who serve in uniform.

I was talking to a good friend last night and he spoke for a few moments about the TV series Battlestar Galactica.  I asked him what the main theme was, and he described it to me about a struggle between humans and robots.  He then mentioned that there were those who wanted peace, but the military was “of course” against that and wanted war.

Is it really an “of course”?  I don’t think it is.

I remember watching a documentary a few years ago, and they were interviewing some British soldiers.  One of the questions they were asked was what they thought about going to war and fighting in a war.  The young bucks who hadn’t seen action were all gung-ho, macho and full of bravado.  The older guys, who were typically the sergeants or such noncommissioned officers were quieter about it.  They were confident and talked matter-of-factly, but the bravado and machismo wasn’t there anymore.

I read biographies and first-person military history accounts, and what I consistently find is that there is no bravado and machismo there.  It isn’t like the young bucks going nuts over a new video game like Call of Duty, or those who can rattle off cool lines from action movies.  Don’t get me wrong, I like action movies, but they’re just movies.

Here’s something from Lt. Gen. Moore (ret):

An estimated 3000 to 5000 North Vietnamese regulars had been killed or wounded.  A total of 305 Americans had died and another 400-plus had been wounded in that time of testing.  No one who fought there, on either side, talked seriously about who won and who lost.  In such a slaughterhouse there are no winners, only survivors.

And what did he think of the enemy soldiers that tried their hardest to kill him and his men?

When my soldiers spoke harshly, with anger, of our enemies, I told them to remember that these men had mothers who would be shattered by the news of their deaths; that they, like us, had been caught up in great-power politics and were doing their duty as we were.

That’s not what you’ll ever see in an action movie.  That’s not what any young buck full of testosterone thinks a tough, proven soldier would say.

This man, who has seen much carnage, who had led men into and through hard, tough battles, has this to say as a prayer to for those who serve:

May God bless and keep all soldiers, young and old, and may that same God open the eyes of all political leaders to the truth that most wars are a confession of failure – the failure of diplomacy and negotiation and common sense and, in most cases, of leadership.

There are some people who want war.  They truly do.  But it is my view and my argument, that it is not the military who wants war.  They of all people know how horrible it is.  Most serve honorably, with a desire to protect that which they and we hold dear.

In a democracy, rulers are accountable to we the voting public.  We can’t do anything about the young bucks – young men will always be full of bravado and machismo, and maybe that can be a good thing.  But we have influence over the rulers, who in turn are the ones that pay out money to the vendors.

Let’s keep our eyes and vigilance on those who want war, and not on those who do their duty wherever they are sent by the rulers whom we have put in power.

Why don’t we do AARs at work on a regular basis?

AAR isn’t just a sound that your favorite pirate makes when he runs out of whisky.  It stands for After-Action Report, and it is what the business world calls “Lessons Learned.”  However, the term lessons learned is sometimes a bit too presumptuous – are the lessons really learned?  Better yet, are the lessons even really captured?

The business world takes a lot of its lessons, thinking patterns, and concepts from the military.   There’s a reason for this: there is no less forgiving environment then that of human warfare.  Business isn’t much friendlier sometimes, but at least it isn’t literally about life and death.

Still, the lessons from the world of sweat, bullets and blood aren’t ported over completely or successfully.  Let’s look at the AAR or lessons-learned, for example.

I happen to be reading a book by Lt. Gen. (ret) Moore and Joseph Galloway titled We Are Soldiers Still.  It is a follow-on to their eye-opening book We Were Soldiers Once … And Young.  Both books center around the events and experiences in the Ia Drang Valley in 1965, just as America was beginning its direct involvement in the conflict.

Phuong told us [...] he was about three miles away from the battlefield.  He could see the smoke and hear the artillery and air strikes.  I asked if he then moved toward the fighting.  He grinnned and replied: “Oh no!  I went in the opposite direction.”  Phoung told us that the North Veitnamese drew valuable lessons from the Ia Drang, lessons that they applied, with flexibility, throughout the rest of the report.  Phuong’s report, written in the immediatcy of the moment after he had interviewed the surviving North Vietnamese commanders, was printed as a small pamphlet and quickly disseminated to the NVA and Viet Cong troops.  It was titled simply: “How to Fight the Americans.”

Think about this – the North Vietnamese had just fought a bloody 4-day battle with the Americans.  Both sides got their noses bloodied, both sides fought valiantly, both sides were in it for keeps.  But what happened right after the battle?

He told us that the surviving North Vietnamese commanders gathered after the fight and together they went over each action in the battles and the lessons that should be learned from them.

They got together to figure out the right lessons to learn, documented them, and then quickly distilled them down to the basics and communicated them out to the field commanders.  They reviewed what happened, learned how to do better, and made sure everyone else on the line learned the lessons.

Why doesn’t this happen more often in the workplace?  Yes, the Project Management Institute (PMI) is big on lessons-learned and reviewing previous lessons learned.  Yes, big exercises in the emergency management field have “hot-washes” (who came up with that ridiculous term?) and lessons-learned documents.  But are they really focused, earnest sessions where participants – especially the leaders – try to learn and internalize the key lessons?  And are these lessons effectively communicated and internalized by others in the organization?

I don’t have any answers here right now.  I was just reading through the book and this nagging thought just kept gnawing at me.  Why do most businesses and organizations suck so badly at learning lessons that they’ve already paid for?

More importantly, how can we do better?  How can we learn fast and communicate it fast?  How can we learn fast like the people who beat the world’s most technologically advanced army with peasant soldiers?  How can we learn to accomplish our objectives, using AAR as a tool for improvement rather than the sound we make as we stumble along like drunken pirates?

Maybe you’ve got some thoughts on this.  I’d like to hear them.