RAZR-dull

Does everyone remember when the Motorola RAZR first came out? Upon its inception, it was That Phone. The gadget to have. In an era of bulbous little flip phones, this one was thin, “stylish” (whatever that means) and covered in awe-inducing neon highlights. Oooooohh, look at the keypad! Those buttons must be touch-sensitive! (They aren’t.) Motorola — or was it a service provider? — even had the gall to air a TV ad making fun of people who were still hanging onto their bulky non-flip phones of years past, calling such people, essentially, losers.

Whether it was the advertising, the buzz, or the phone itself, it worked. People bought RAZRs in droves. And now, everyone has one. They’ve become so commonplace that possessing one sends more a message of “I buy into hype” than “I’m a maverick with style and deep pockets”. Or if you’re like me, the sight of people with them says, “I’ve been suckered into putting up with crummy user interfaces in the name of fashion.”

Seriously, have you every actually used a RAZR before? Or any phone from Motorola, for that matter? Their phone software is absolutely the worst on the market, bar none. (Trying to get our family’s Kid Phone, a phone which gets passed among the offspring to whomever needs it at any given time, to synchronize its contacts with my computer was a futile effort.) The phone itself, while being able to catch more than a few glances (when it was new, anyway), is actually quite poorly designed. Its components are cheaply made and fail easily. My good friend Ben would surely enjoy educating you on its weak points. Don’t believe me? Well why else would he make a video like this?

My point is that for those of us who look for good usability in the products we use from day to day, the RAZR embodies everything we hate about how consumer electronics are designed these days. Style over substance in the hardware, with software designed for and only fully usable by geeks, seemingly made complex for its own sake. Those of you who know me personally should now understand why I exhaustively research tech purchases beforehand, such as when my parents asked me what video camera they should buy for Suzanne for her European semester: very few tech products on the market meet baseline standards of industrial design and usability. I despise Motorola phones and I have no idea why people would want to spend money on them.

Sorry, Marce.

UPDATE: If you're wondering if Motorola really is in as bad shape as I make it out to be, then this open letter from a former employee should remove all doubt.

My patience has reached its peak

I’ve seen this particular confusion of homonyms on several weblogs now, but I put up with it because I don’t want to be the one who’s always correcting people’s spelling and grammar to feel superior about himself. But because I just now saw the same mistake in a published book, I am determined to speak up about it, lest people forever confuse the spelling and consequently drive me up the wall.

“Peak” can be a noun, a verb, or an adjective. It refers to the highest part of a mountain; or, the point of greatest significance or activity, the act of reaching that point, or having the characteristics of reaching that point.

“Peek” as a verb means to look quickly in a furtive manner or to protrude until just barely visible, or as a noun, the act of doing so. (It’s also a command from the BASIC programming language, but we won’t go into that.)

In short, if your sentence ever says something like “take a peek”, it’s “peek” with two E’s. Not “peak”.

And while I’m in a nitpicky mood: once during my teenage years I went to Muskoka Woods or something for a weekend. Bad idea. Not only did it turn out to be the least optimal place for me to meet people and make friends (there’s a reason I was never a “camp kid”), the little guidebook we all had for the weekend said something like this in the back:

“Mistakes within these pages have been left in place so that those who delight in pointing out flaws in others will find fulfillment.”

Excuse me?!?

Hey, I’m pretty sure they had something called “spellcheck” in 2001. Excellent idea, teaching impressionable teenagers that professionalism doesn’t count for anything, truth is relative, and attaining stellar language skills will only turn you into an arrogant prick.

To them I can only say this: I judge you when you use poor grammar.

Choices: more is less

I'm sure V. of Violent Acres would find this video vindicating. (Wow, that's a lot of v's.) Barry Schwartz, author of "The Paradox of Choice", speaking at TED 2005:

Someone doesn't know their Hungarian history

Do you suppose the creator of this application MailServe has ever heard of the Arrow Cross party?

I’m guessing not.

Compare this to the Swastika Match Company of Swastika, Ontario, which had the foresight to adopt its logo long before the Third Reich did.

Leaving college behind

Note: since I went to the U.S. for my post-secondary education, I frequently use American terminology when talking about it. So, when I say “college”, I really mean “university” in Canuckian.

Do you have a calendar from Calvin for 2008, or know someone who does? Take a look at the picture for February. Way off to the right, almost cropped out, take a look at who’s standing there. Is that face familiar?

Yep, that’s me, taking the Cold Knight Pledge before my fourth - and last - jump in the sem pond at Calvin. It was one of those things you do in college because you can and because you won’t be able to later in life, for reasons of social expectations, the law, and your health. Streaking, exploring subterranean passages on campus, dorm-wide serenades, and numerous other semi-advisable activities are included here. I jumped 4 years in a row, got 5 towels in all (though 2 have gone missing), and now have known a numbness like nothing else.

And then I get a message asking me if I can come back to the pond and jump again for my 5th year in a row. Heck, they said, I don’t even have to come, just jump in any freezing body of water close by and send in the pictures! It’ll be fun! It’ll be tradition! It’ll be…

…all been done before?

For me, yes.

You see, Calvin’s sem pond jump is part of their Homecoming Weekend schedule. And you know, even though I’ve spent 4 years in the USA’s college culture, I still have little understanding of exactly what “homecoming” is, nor why it’s such a big deal. The most I’ve been able to deduce so far is that it’s a weekend when alumni can return and visit the college they once attended. So you’re telling me that all those people show up just so they can feel young again? Geez, grow up already. If that’s true, then there’s another symptom of our society’s eternal pursuit of youth which, for my part, I plan on avoiding.

Of course, the college has no problem wining and dining everyone, since it means they’ll have even more opportunities to “build relationships with alumni” (read: solicit donations).

Wait… you’re telling me they do this for high schools as well? With parades?

And Americans wonder why they’re getting their asses kicked by the Far East in science and technology, test scores, you name it.

I can only conclude that “Homecoming” must be one of those things which possesses an absurdity that you never fully realize if you grew up with it. And now that I'm done with college, I have every intention of leaving it firmly behind, not trying to act like I’m still a student by jumping into a hole in a frozen pond. I've already made my mark, right here.

But a free robe for all the Golden Towelers? Sure, I’ll take that.

Boy, do I have an evil idea

When someone who insists on dousing themselves in fragrant liquid every day sits beside me on the train, their effect on my nose is like nails on a chalkboard to the ears. I’d rather put up with the smell of hot brake shoes, which is a smell any train traveller will be familiar with. And now, I have a cunning plan:

1. Print out a sign saying “Fragrance-Free Seating” (maybe with a GO Transit logo at the bottom)
2. Laminate it
3. Stick it to the window beside my seat each morning

If I ever actually follow through with this, I’ll let you all know how it turns out.

Civility

I saw someone having a bad day today.

I'm getting off at my stop, and once I'm on the platform I pause and watch people still inside the train. I notice it's taking longer than usual to get going. I look ahead to the front of the train to see the driver leaning out of his window yelling at someone. I didn't see what had happened, nor did I remove my headphones quickly enough to hear what was said. But, I figured there was a chance that whoever was involved would later make him or herself heard at the ticket window upstairs.

I was soon proved correct. A woman walked over and started saying, "I don't mean to complain, but..."

As I stood behind, acting as though I was in line, I her side of what I hadn't seen. She hadn't quite had enough time to get out of the car and had the joy of having the doors close on her, and then had been thanked for delaying the train by the angry driver. And she was 5 months pregnant. She was fortunate to be talking to one of the more pleasant people employed by the TTC, because some of the other people I've seen working there look surlier than an unemployed Wal-Mart greeter.

"I saw what happened," I said to her once she was done. "You were in the right."

"It's totally inappropriate," she replied as she left, still in disbelief over what had just happened.

So why did I do that?

A few days back, upon returning to my car in the evening at the train station, I found a rather rude note stuffed in between the passenger-side door and body, scrawled on a piece of photo holder envelope, telling me I should learn to park and calling me some unprintable words. I checked my parking — I was dead-on parallel and exactly in the middle of my spot — there was no way it was my problem. To borrow some internet jargon, I'd just been flamed. It's what happens when people, knowing they'll never need to go face-to-face with the recipient of their tirade nor defend their opinion against criticism, feel free to let the angry words fly. That kind of incivility puts me off, whether it's happening to me or someone else.

And it's tremendously helpful to have someone take your side when you're on the spot like that, reassuring you that your take on things makes sense. I just hope that next time I'm in that sort of situation, someone will do the same for me.

It's Groundhog Day

Yes, it's the day when a small furry animal comes out of its hole and makes a weather prediction!

Heh.

Wow, what a stupid holiday.