Because Duane Keiser is one of my favorite painters, ever.
Archive for the ‘Name Dropping’ Category
Yeah. Totally Windows’ fault. For having most of the marketshare. Stupid Windows. If only you weren’t popular enough, no one would bother to write viruses for you, either.
But really. I feel bad for the QA tester involved. Even though, way totally avoidable mistake, it was an accident, and that just sucks. And it should be mentioned, this qualifies as a big IT boo-boo.
This is why you NEVER install anything on the build box. Not even if it’s Jeremy Allaire, giving you a totally awesome sneak peek of terrific new technology (well, it was new at the time). But that’s probably a story for another day.
Oh why not. It’s late, I just inexplicably spilled half a glass of very cold water down the back of my own pants. Perfect time for a story.
So there was nothing like a virus involved. But this was back in the days after Picasa outgrew Mike’s spare bedroom (and then living and dining room), and since there were now more live-in employees than couches, we’d rented the apartment next door. Somehow we wound up hosting Jeremy Allaire for an afternoon. He came by to talk about what we were working on, and to show off some new unreleased flash technology. As it turned out, our little company had been growing fast and the only monitor in the office/apartment that could accomodate everyone in the room, was attached to The Build Box.
So after a bit of discussion, the neat new technology was installed on The Build Box. Great demos followed, and sometime after that, the crew went out for dinner. It was one of those really fun nights of 12 hour straight hacking and development, the highly productive post-workday workday. And about an hour or so after everyone finally retreated to their sleeping bags and couches, one of the offsite guys discovered they couldn’t build. Big demo, due in a few hours, and no one could connect to the box – there was a small matter of a little memory leak that had gradually eaten up all resources on the build machine.
All in the grand scheme of things, so not a big deal, except for the groggy wakeup call requiring Mike to dig out the extra ‘office’ key and trudge 25 feet to go reboot the thing.
It’s not like the real old war stories, back in the days when a GM was a physical disc that a product manager risked life, limb, and points on their license to get on that last FedEx truck, only to discover a virus on the build box an hour later.
Lessons? Never install stuff you don’t need on your build box. Always keep your virus definitions updated. And whatever you do, don’t put your glass of icy cold water down on the sofa late at night.
Warren Buffett just might never stop being my hero.
A few weeks back, some friends were passing through town. What better way to spend a long layover at LAX than dinner at Nozawa?
Our group needed a table that seated six. There was one empty table in the place, fortunately, right next to a couple that was just finishing up. While we waited for them to pay the bill, a nervous little waif of a starlet came in, flanked by a Sidekick-enabled thumb typer sporting last season’s signature b-list red Kaballah bracelet.
At first, I couldn’t place the anxious little starlet. It wasn’t Brittany Murphy – she has that same nervous energy but she’s got that whole Oakenfold-enabled faster pussycat-suit thing going on, but this little thing was wearing dirty sweats. It didn’t add up. She looked like that girl who used to be Paris Hilton’s best friend, but what was her name again?
The starlet became very agitated at the fact that she (and her entourage of one) had to wait behind such a crowd of losers, while the Perfect Table was so clearly ready and waiting.
See, the thing is, be nice to the staff. Don’t hassle them, not even if you are a student of Kaballah. It’s just the number one rule of eating out.
So anyway. That other table finished up, the staff rushed in and pushed the tables together, and our group was promptly seated. Master Nozawa was on the job, and we all ordered Omakase, because, hey, do you order anything else at Nozawa?
Dish after dish came out. It was fabulous. We happily stuffed our faces, while the starlet glared at us from the front of the line. The women in the group quickly came to the conclusion that it was in fact Nicole Ritchie. The men in the group quickly responded with “huh? The 14-year old in dirty sweats?”
Lucky me, I had the seat facing the line. Nicole Ritchie is still standing there, and now she’s glaring at me. I’m stuffing my face with hamachi, maguro, and that slimy thing covered in scallions.
I confess, maybe it was the fact that the sushi was so good. Maybe the wasabi was a little too hot. I don’t know. It might have been all the pressure of being stared at by a b-list celebrity. Impolite, I know. But, somehow, I found I just couldn’t keep my mouth closed while I chewed.
Anyway. Nicole and Kaballah-thumbtyper are finally seated. At that ratty little table right in front of the door, too. (Always be nice to the staff.) After a few minutes, I decide I must know what they are eating. Really, how do you stay so thin on a diet of fatty tuna?
Nicole and Kaballah each ordered an iced green tea. From what I could tell, that’s the sum total of what they consumed.
And now they’re saying it’s an eating disorder? Poor girl. My goodness, who could have seen that coming?
My advice? Skip the nutritionist. Go to the laundrymat.