Folding Fitted Sheets

I fold laundry. I happen to like it. It's one of the small ways (emphasis on small) that I can contribute around the house. But the one thing I can't fold are fitted sheets. I usually get frustrated, and then make up some technique. The result? Puffy and a messy corners. My wife folds fitted sheets perfectly. Too proud to ask her how to do it, I always think that I can figure out how she's done it by staring at the perfectly folded sheets that she's already done. Instead, I happily toss them into the closest, grateful that I don't have do it for one more week. Not tonight. Tonight I reached deep into the Internet, and found a video explanation for how to do the folding correctly. Folded fitted sheets, FTW!

Buckling Down

I took a drive around Sun Microsystem's offices in Burlington this morning. The company announced last week that it will lay off 15% to 18% of its workforce, which translates to roughly 5000 to 6000 people. It's becoming a tough time out there. The headlines on Friday were along the lines of "high tech sector now feeling the pinch of the economy."

I drove around looking for clues in the parking lot: how many cars were here? Who was working? I somehow thought the parking lot would be full, a buzz in the air. People were going to be let go, and middle managers needed to be working. Instead, the parking lot was empty. It was a quiet Sunday morning. Nothing was stirring except for a few landscaping vehicles. As I circled the large campus, all I was left to ponder was the general vulnerability of any kind of job, including my own "high tech sector" job. The economy isn't taking prisoners.

Voting: An American Experience

On November 4, citizens of the United States of America will elect their next president. I think electing our president is one of the most uniquely American experiences there is. Two men, Barack Obama and John McCain, have been barnstorming this great nation, exhorting us on national television, in rallies, in town meetings, in stump speeches, to vote for one of them. They're working hard not just for my vote; they're working hard for our vote. It's awe-inspiring to me that after all their work, after all their pleadings, it's simply up to the voter to decide. Sure, there's the electoral college, and the battle ground states, and all that campaign money, but in the end, it all boils down to each of us getting into a booth, and inking in our choice. There are countries around the world that do not give their citizens a choice in this matter. We do it every four years. Go out and vote, you American citizens. I'll be right there with all of you on November 4, engaged in this thrilling American experience. Vote!

The Blog is Dead...Long Live the Blog

Last week, Wired magazine published an essay stating that blogs are dead. The author Paul Boutin says don't even think of starting one. He even suggests that if you have a blog, you might kill it in favor of your Twitter, Flickr, or Facebook pages. Posts from blogs are no longer "first page results" on search engines; Wikipedia and "professional blogs" now dominate that first page. Why bother, he asks.

Why bother, indeed.

As I read the article, it's clear that he is speaking of the blog as "soap box", the blog as an attention gathering device. I can imagine him giving the same argument about writing novels, or making music. "Don't bother. It's been done already. Today's creative works are cranked out by pros." Forget your voice. There's no more room for it on the web.

I reject his thesis, partly out of self-defense. I write mostly to serve my own muse, to serve up my own musings. I don't write to be paid, or to get "mass" attention. While at one point I wondered about page views, I no longer care.

I care about having the ability to write on the web, in a format that people have come to accept, even though these people are quickly moving to other formats. I care about producing meaty writing, not these so-called tweets or status updates. I care about connecting with people, even if they turn out to be only my family and friends, and the occasional stranger. I care about blogging, and I hope for my own sake that it's not dead.

And as for anyone who's thinking of starting one? I say go for it. Paul's right that your posts probably won't merit mass attention. But if you have an angle or a point of view that you want to express, I think there's plenty of room in the blogosphere. It's hard to express your thoughts with just photos and tweets. Getting your writing out there is sure to satisfy at least one reader: yourself.

The New Kids

I was waiting for a cab outside the airport last week, when two people next to me struck up a conversation.

"Yeah, noticed you on the flight. You're at the Intercontinental?"
"Yeah, here for the same deal."
"Did you get an agenda?"
"Not yet."

I glanced over, and noticed that the two people were college aged kids. As they spoke, it was pretty clear they were here for some company recruiting function.

Companies will do that when recruiting college kids. They'll bring a whole bunch of them over, and interview them together. They'll make a day of it for these kids. Nice hotel. Nice meals at the corporate office. Companies trying to woo fresh blood.

The two men conversing next to me traded woes about the job scene ("it's tough") and about the trials of modern recruiting ("that was me who asked that question in the chat room"). They impressed me. I had the bizarre thought that someday I'd probably be working for one of these people.

Hello, you new kids. Good luck getting hired.

Night Grill

Jenn and I have been grilling our hot dogs all Summer. It's a new thing with us. We used to boil our hot dogs before eating them. After a barbecue this Summer, it seems as if we've switched to grilling these. The taste and texture of a slightly blackened hot dog cannot be beat. It's now a matter of course.

Tonight was hot dog night. As I went outside to grill, I realized it would be a slightly different experience, since it was night. As Summer marched on, I grilled in fading light. Thanks to Fall, or the Equinox, or some combination, it was dark by the time I got to the grill tonight. "Use a flashlight," Jenn said.

Getting the grill turned on was tricky, but the front door light helped. However, once I got the hot dogs started, I found that I liked the light turned off. The glow of the fire seemed magical. The heat and the smell of the food whisked away the slight chill. I turned the hot dogs, but I couldn't see them, so I couldn't tell whether they were getting blackened the way I like them. I found I didn't care. I sat there in the night, me and the grill. This must be what a campfire meal must be like. I haven't been camping since I was in school.

I eventually turned on the flashlight. I shut everything down, and went back inside with my food. The hot dogs were blackened perfectly.

Tweet

Clive Thompson's NY Times article about Twitter and Facebook shows how online social networking has somehow expanded people's concept of their "social circle." Through a steady diet of short "status" messages (e.g. "Having a pizza dinner", "I'm watching the US Open now") that eventually become a stock ticker of your real self, Twitter enables people to follow other people's lives in a strangely more intimate way than they might "in real life." Thompson is careful to point out the drawbacks to virtual friendships, but as a whole, it seems positive.

While reading this piece, I kept thinking about a recent lunch my wife and I had with a nearby friend of mine. We met with our families, and had an entertaining time catching up, laughing, telling stories, and minding our children. I kept thinking "this is so nice!" Now, weeks after that lunch, I wish that my friend had a Twitter account (I searched; she doesn't have one that I could find). However, since it's a Web 2.0 thing, I'm pretty certain that her children will end up with Twitter accounts someday.

Won't they be surprised when they find out that they can follow my tweets?

If you want to follow me, check out the sidebar of my blog for my Twitter updates, or visit my Twitter page.