"Sacrifices must be made...

...but not by us."

CEOs of Exxon, Conoco, Chevron & BP to US Senate (& the rest of us)

The sublime & the incredible

Considering that I’ve spent the last two days in a place where there is no discernible organization, much less a neat one, I’m sharing this with you.

I’d much rather contemplate these examples of thoughtful design than think about being on the phone with tech support for more than two hours today to get network access, an email account & a communications/collaboration tool account…and still don’t have a phone number.

And I’m not even going to talk about ploughing through the corporate product management process site only to be told at 1645 that there’s another, newer, process that has superseded it. And that my manager’s manager didn’t know about it.

Red flags in the sunset

Yesterday I started a contract product manager job at a major networking company. Well, kinda.

From the beginning there have been red flags all around this gig. For one thing, I could never get a consistent story out of the recruiter for the job shop. She’s very bluff and hearty, but straightforward? Not so much.

At first the rate was stated at $X/hour. (And “first” was more than a month ago.) Then, oh, gee, since this is a replacement position, the Client can only pay $X-9%. When I (reluctantly) said I would consider that, she blurbled on about how she told Client that I’d take it on if there was a long-term commitment. At the same time she assured me that Client’s contracts are frequently extended again and again.

Like working without benefits is such a plus that doing it for a longer rather than a shorter period of time is greatly to be desired.

Well, every time I asked for information about the job, the previous contractor (who apparently left suddenly, although I still don’t know whether he jumped or was pushed), the group, the people in the group, even what the products are—every time she just didn’t know. and their on-site rep, who’s embedded with this Client group, never seemed to return her alleged calls. He certainly never called me.

So at every step in the (long, seriously drawn-out) process I was operating in the information darkness, which I do not like. MWD, the recruiter, kept telling me I could get any data I needed from the Client people I spoke with. Red flag number one.

My phone interview with the alleged hiring manager lasted a hair over 30 minutes. Not once did he ask me anything about my CV, my experience, my history. It was all me asking him for information about the work, the group, etc. Huge red flag number two.

Then it took more than a week to talk with the next person, who turned out to be Interviewer #1’s manager (even though MWD had assured me that I#1 is the decision maker). He did ask me a couple of questions about my experience, but most of the time was spent in me asking things the recruiter should have already given me. It seems there are three product lines covered in this group; at the time of interview number two it still wasn’t clear to me which one or ones they wanted me to work on.

Actually, it was clear that they didn’t know which one they wanted me to work on—when I asked, Interviewer #2 said, “We’re going to have to talk about that.”

Uh, yeah; you do that. Red flag number three.

I#2 said he wanted me to speak with another team member and also to attend an all-day team meeting the following (last) week. The next day, however, I received a meeting invitation via the job shop’s onsite coordinator for a face-to-face with I#2 the day before the team meeting time.

I spoke with MWD to see if, at last, she knew what was going on. She said I#2 wanted to hire me (so much for I#1 being the decision maker), but wanted me to speak with this other person first.

Interestingly, Interviewer #3, whom I met in person (the other two are on the East Coast) two weeks ago, spent the most time with me, asked me the most penetrating (not to say suspicious) questions and gave me the very strong impression that she was the hiring manager, or that at the very least I’d be reporting to her and working on Product B (as we’ll call it). Minor red flag number four.

Well, between the time I set up Interview #3 and actually had it, I was contacted by a recruiter for a different job shop for another contract job with a major Internet company. This contract pays 33% more per hour than the one with the network giant. And when I said, sure, go ahead and submit my CV (I’m not even going to talk about how little this recruiter knew about the job, or the description, which consisted of five bullet points), within an hour she’d called back to say the hiring manager wanted to speak with me the next afternoon.

That interview went well, but the HM had expressed himself surprised to be “inundated with résumés”, and was going to be interviewing for a while. (I wasn’t surprised, as I’d been contacted by two more job shops for this position.)

Then there was a flurry of calls from MWD kvelling that we had an offer for this job! I told her about the other possibility and asked what flexibility Client could give with the rate, considering there’s a 33% delta. You could hear the spin coming from her in the background. She said she knew about the Internet job (but hadn’t submitted me for it, because “mobile” was mentioned in it), so she knew I wasn’t slinging bull about the rate. But she tried telling me how Internet Client takes forever to start the interview process, etc.

That stopped when I said I’d already had the first interview.

The following day she called to say that Client can’t do anything about the rate until their new fiscal year (three months hence); but that they also have budget for three FTE positions…in Q3 of next year. (In the same conversation she again referred back to the opportunity to have an endless contract, as well. She really can’t decide which crap to extrude.)

I asked for a copy of the contract to review. To me the key clause is the at-will stipulation: Client, Job Shop or Employee can at any time and for any or no reason terminate the contract. That means that as soon as something better comes along, I can thank them and leave. Which suits my purposes just fine.

Especially given the fact that this gig has more red flags flying than Red Square on May Day.

When I told MWD that I’d accept the offer she was so excited that she actually said to me, “I know you’ll be getting a lower rate than [the Internet job], but you’ll be able to make up for it by working more hours, so it’ll come out even in the end.”

No, I am not making that up. Just to make the Internet Client 40-hour weekly pay I’d have to log in 53 hours on this job. Not that Internet Client would be only 40 hours, either. But I’m wondering why MWD would want someone so stupid as to swallow that logic & be happy at the idea of working 33% longer to get the same amount of money.

Red flag number five.

Speaking of which—I met with Interviewer #1 and Interviewer #2 last Tuesday (my official start date). I#2 told me then that I wouldn’t be working on Product B, after all. It turns out, he said, that he’s got funding for Product A, and while Product B really needs staffing, I’ll have to work on A. A completely different product, in a completely different development cycle, with completely different customers. That’s okay, right?

Red flag number six. It makes me very uneasy that they don’t seem to know what they’re doing, where the money’s coming from or how they can use it. And that this didn’t come up until after I’d signed the contract.

(And, BTW, since I wouldn’t be involved with Product B, I didn’t need to go to the all-day team meeting the next day, for which I’d cleared my schedule. I guess they won’t be my team?)


Oh, and Interviewer #2 asked me, "When are you planning on starting?" Uh, I'd planned on starting the next day, and my contract actually said it started the moment we were talking. You would not believe the looks of utter, vacant astonishment on these two guys' faces. Oh. Well. I#1 would have to, um, see about finding me space. And a laptop. And, you know, stuff.


Red flag number seven.

Well, this stuff just never stops: I showed up today to get my badge and then receive my laptop and network access. Only the clapped-out laptop they had for me (seriously, the screen has craters) wasn’t working right. And when we finally got that going my network password wouldn’t work.

Seems that the password was issued on the 5^th and had already expired. And IT wouldn’t reset it for me, my manager had to request a new one.

Oh, they added, and once I do get in, it’ll take 72 hours to propagate through the network. Meaning that I’ll have limited access to various systems. Email apparently being one of them. I have to request everything—nothing’s been set up for me. Not even a phone; I had to call IT to order a phone number and an actual phone. But since it has to be approved by my manager there’s no telling when I’ll be able to tell people how to reach me.

The job shop on-site coordinator (whose greatest area of expertise seems to be sending snotograms) warned me that it could be more than a week before I’m actually connected to everything necessary to do my job. And I have to initiate it all. Which is hysterical because, how am I supposed to know what all I’ll need so I can ask for it?

Gigantic garrison-sized red freaking flag number eight.

So, I’ll do my best to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing, what tools I need, how to get them and make what contribution I can. Meanwhile, I’m continuing to look for work with an organization that, well, that seems to know what it’s doing, has ideas about how I can help and is willing make me a full team member—including compensation in line with my value.

Special op in Abbottabad 3

On reflection, I may have been way harsh in my reaction to the comments of the Prime Minister and Foreign Secretary of Pakistan on the raid by US Navy SEALS on Osama Bin Laden’s compound the night of 1 May. You remember—they said it wasn’t their fault they couldn’t find Bin Laden, it was an intelligence failure of truly global proportions.

But I’m thinking I shouldn’t have accused them of being disingenuous.

I mean—we did penetrate their air space, crash a helicopter and blow it up, spent 20-40 minutes shooting up OBL’s posse and got out without the Pakistani military apparently noticing. Our government had to tell their government after the fact what had happened.

(Moreover, apparently no one in their government is on Twitter, or they’d have known about it before Hillary made the call.)

Their intelligence agency really is crap.

And, bless their hearts, once they’ve been caught looking like the village schmendricks, what are they going to say—“Jeez, we really screwed the pooch here, and as soon as we get our heads out of our intestinal tracts we’re going to take measures to ensure this sort of thing doesn’t happen again”?

No government in the history of the world ever said that. From the Macedonian Empire to the Bakersfield city council. They never admit to making mistakes. It’s their job to never admit to making mistakes.

So I probably shouldn’t have come down so hard on their reaction, which was entirely natural and predictable, given that they were trying to spin a really challenging situation in which they were shown to be inept slackers in the intelligence department—any way you look at it.

My bad. 

Shifting the paradigm

KQED, San Francisco’s NPR affiliate, kicked off its spring fundraising drive yesterday. With a new twist: for a $45 pledge online you can opt to get a pledge-free Internet stream. 

Meaning that you can listen to the programming without those annoying breaks three or four times an hour where both on-air talent and behind-the-scenes folk pretend to be Dorothy Parker and Robert Benchley—but folksy, mind—to encourage you to cough up monetary support.

This is a very interesting use of technology, one I’ve been trying to figure out how to make work for a long time: pledge early and you go right back to usual programs for both NPR and PBS. Meaning no ghastly two-hour Yanni concerts or any number of tenors or Dr. Wayne Dyer or Suze Orman or Julia Child reruns; just regular programming. (Even though Mystery! isn’t a weekly show anymore.)

Sadly, it won’t work for over-the-air broadcasting, only an online stream. But wouldn’t it be just heavenly?

I also want to apply it to political campaigns: show evidence that you’ve voted early and you don’t hear/see political commercials for the rest of the electoral season. Radio, TV or Internet.

Well—a girl can dream.

Vivan los chicos

Todo el mundo knows that today is Cinco de Mayo. I can practically hear the mariachis from my living room here in Silicon Valley. Although only parte del mundo knows the holiday commemorates the Battle of Puebla in 1862, part of Mexico’s war against the French.

(This war came about when Napoleon III took advantage of Americans being preoccupied killing one another during the War Between the States to embark in a foreign adventure by placing an Austrian archduke on the previously non-existent throne of Mexico. The French—it was a whole thing.)

What you may not know is that the fifth day of the fifth month is also Boys’ Day, a holiday that comes to us from Japan. Okay, apparently these days it’s known as Children’s Day, but I hold with the Old Ways: 3 March is Girls’ Day, and 5 May is Boys’ Day.

On Girls’ Day you set out these elaborate hierarchical displays of exquisitely-dressed dolls, representing the Emperor and Empress, their court and all accoutrements. Somewhere there is a photo of a red-headed hakujin dressed in a yukata playing girlie games in a flat in a house the Greene brothers built to live in. The focus is interior and refined; I did the best I could.

On Boys’ Day, you hang out carp flags and do guy things. The focus is outward and exuberant. I never got invited to Boys’ Day events.

But in honor of the joint holiday from our siblings in Mexico and Japan, I suggest that we all go out, drink a margarita and fly a kite.

Special op in Abbottabad 2

Naturally the Abbottabad raid is a news story with legs, & as expected, bits & pieces of the picture are emerging hourly. The prudent & scholarly thing to do would be to wait for the cordite to settle before commenting judiciously; but I just can’t help myself after reading this story from the BBC.

First, there’s the rather sulky statement by Pakistani Prime Minister Yousuf Raza Gilani that it’s not his country’s fault that they couldn’t find Osama Bin Laden. “There is intelligence failure of the whole world, not Pakistan alone.” Moreover, Pakistan needs everyone in the world to support them in the struggle against Islamist militants because, “we are fighting & paying a heavy price…fighting not only for Pakistan but for the peace, prosperity & progress of the whole world.”

Well, dang.

That first claim just cracks me up. He’s essentially putting forth the idea that Pakistan didn’t know where Bin Laden was—which is like Jeffrey Dahmer’s neighbors marveling at the discovery that he was a cannibal because, “Why, we had no idea what he was up to. He’s a nice, quiet man & as for those cooking smells, well, we just thought he was on the Adkins diet.”

But Gilani's mitigating their alleged incompetence by adding that no one in the world knew where to find Bin Laden. So if Bolivia, Senegal & Borneo weren’t pinning the compound on Google Maps, then no harm, no foul for Pakistan.

There’s a logical fallacy somewhere in there; let me see if I can hunt it down…

Oh, yeah—it’s the one that every mother in every country on the planet has shot down since the beginning of time: that you’re not culpable if everyone else is doing the same thing.

Plus, Bolivia, Senegal & Borneo—along with the rest of the world that has any sort of telecommunications & cognitive capability—knew that the best place to be looking for Bin Laden was in Pakistan. So there’s just no way that Pakistan comes out of this without the major “intelligence failure” being theirs. Only question is to what degree the failure was deliberate or just incompetence.

As for the second part—does he intend that the UN hold a bake sale & send the proceeds to Islamabad? Before firing up my oven, I for one would like to see an accounting of the billions Pakistan has already received & find out how much—what miniscule percentage—actually went to what could reasonably called anti-terror actions, as opposed to lining the pockets of government & military officials & subsidizing turf wars & political assassinations.

Oh—but is that me being picky?

I also got a kick out of the Pakistani Foreign Secretary’s response to CIA Director Leon Panetta’s admission, “It was decided that any effort to work with the Pakistanis could jeopardize the mission. They might alert the targets.” Salman Bashir also got a little pouty & insisted that Panetta’s remark was entirely uncalled for & that Pakistan plays “a pivotal role” in fighting terrorism.

Now, to my mind, the phrase “pivotal role” is like the term “quality” that businesses like to toss about: it can be positive or negative. & if by “pivotal role” you mean “we are the global vortex of terrorist training, arming, funding & refuge” then that’s probably an accurate depiction.

But finally, I just don’t know what to make of the report that “about 70 lawyers staged a rally in Abbottabad on Wednesday, chanting anti-US slogans & shouting that Bin Laden was their ‘hero’.”

I knew there would be retaliation, but lawyers?

Tweeting for history

Further to the Web 2.0 element of Sunday’s special op in Abbottabad, the guy who live-tweeted what he saw in the sky that night has emerged as a real figure of interest to me.

Sohaib Athar is intelligent, he’s got a good sense of humor and he’s funny. (The latter two are not the same thing. You can be funny without a sense of humor, and you can have a sense of humor without being able to lob a quip. He’s both.) When he found out the significance of the events he’d been observing, he tweeted, “Uh, oh, now I’m the guy who liveblogged the Osama raid without knowing it.”

He also doesn’t seem to be getting a swelled head at all the world’s media besieging him for interviews. He says he doesn’t own a TV, and tweeted, “Sorry three-lettered-big-tv-news-channels for not replying to your emails.”

He did speak to a couple, including one three-lettered-big-TV-news-channel. And, unlike anyone I’ve seen in the blogosphere, he does not intend to leverage his fame to gain a fortune. When CNN asked what he planned to do now that he has thousands of followers on Twitter and Facebook, he said, “I don’t exactly plan to do anything. I am where I am and if they want to follow me and listen about what I have to say, then I can probably use it to create a more positive image for my country, but besides that, I don't really want to monetize it or anything."

He says he’s just a guy who moved with his family to a city he thought would be safer than Lahore, because he didn’t want to have to explain suicide bombers to his small son.

(Reminds me a bit of Wilmer McLean, a farmer in Manassas who moved south when Union and Confederate armies fought the first major battle of the War Between the States in July 1861. He settled in Appomattox Court House, where the Army of Northern Virginia and the Army of the Potomac converged in April 1865. His house was where R.E. Lee surrendered to U.S. Grant.)

But I think my favorite statement by Athar is this: “I am JUST a tweeter, awake at the time of the crash. Not many Twitter users in Abbottabad, these guys are more into Facebook. That's all.”

Last on the wedding. Really. Unless something else occurs to me

Okay, yes—I did watch part of the royal wedding. No, I didn’t get up at oh-dark-thirty, but I caught the highlights on BBC America. Generally the Brits know how to show a story and not yap through it, like American “news” readers.

I was only in it for the hats and the music, anyhow.

I certainly got my nickel’s worth with the former. Honestly, how there’s a bird in the Northern Hemisphere that is still in possession of its feathers, I don’t know. And apparently the trend-du-jour is to wear your chapeau atilt, as though putting it on squarely is just too, well, square.

I think some of them must have been stapled to those heads; can’t think how else they stayed on. Maybe double-sided tape. 


Plus, I think Lady Gaga is going to want some of them back.

As for the music—well, eh. I have to say that if you’ve heard one John Rutter piece, you’ve pretty much heard them all. And the "Ubi Caritas et Amor" didn’t sound big enough for the venue to me.

But the hymns were gorgeous. Cwm Rhondda, the melody for “Guide me, O thou Great Redeemer”, is as stirring as they come. And it’s hard to go wrong with anything by Charles Wesley. I was rather whelmed by the arrangement of “Jerusalem”—that’s one that ought to bring tears out, especially in that setting; I didn’t feel it.

It was interesting that Elton John had to read the words to them, but David Cameron didn’t.

But I always love an occasion to watch everyone (including Prince Philip) singing “God Save the Queen”, with Her Majesty staring off to middle space.

It was quite a spectacle. Especially those hats.

Special op in Abbottabad

When I fired up my email this morning, the first one I opened was from a friend in the UK. Like me, he’s been job-hunting and finding much of the same idiocy and ignorance I’ve encountered. So when I read the subject, “The Big News”, I thought he’d had a job offer.

But it was about Osama Bin Laden’s death.

It’s appropriate that I should get the news from Don—he was the first of my Euro colleagues to reach out to me with condolence and support when the planes flew into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon and the field in Pennsylvania. He’s also made a point of touching base with me every year on 11 September.

I was in the UK then, and had been notified only a few days before that my ex-pat contract was being terminated (and returning to the US meant I’d certainly be laid off). I watched the coverage of the planes hitting the towers again and again, on a wall of TVs at work. I held it together until, driving home on the M4, I passed the GlaxoSmithKline headquarters building, which had lowered its flags. Then the tears wouldn’t stop.

Like a lot of people, I’m reliving that time, now that US forces raided Bin Laden’s million-dollar compound in Abbottabad, a mountain town north of Islamabad—a town that has effectively been put on the world map with this action. We’ll be a while piecing together the details of what happened, much less what it means. So only a few initial thoughts; don’t expect profundity.

I wouldn’t characterize a special operation like this as “justice”; but I’m glad that Bin Laden didn’t die in bed of old age. I’m not sure, though, whether at this point he’s not more valuable to Islamist fanatics dead than alive. There’s some thought that he’d become irrelevant; but now, of course, he’s a martyr. It’s certainly not going to have much of an effect on our wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Al Qaeda and the other terrorist organizations are rather like the Hydra—cut off one head and two grow up in its place. Heracles had to cauterize the stump of each head as he lopped it off in order to kill the beast. I think that, at the most, we’ve cut off one of the heads. I don’t know what’s going to cauterize the necks, but until we do know, we’re in for the long haul.

There will be reprisals for Bin Laden’s death; at the very least, actions that have long been planned will be dedicated to him.

Bin Laden had been living in a somewhat ostentatious walled property within spitting distance of a Pakistani military academy. If anyone thinks the Pakistani government wasn’t aware of who was behind those 18ft barbed-wire-topped walls, burning their trash instead of having it collected and eschewing phone and Internet connections, then I’d advise having their medications adjusted. I understand that world politics makes strange allies, but Pakistan’s leaders bring corruption, political murder and duplicity to a high art. They make Turkey look positively above-board and true-blue.

Our government has acknowledged that we didn’t notify the Pakistanis of the raid until all our aircraft and people were out of their air space, because in the past when they have been informed of raids, the targets disappeared in advance. That really ought to make the administration at least revisit our ties to that country. Yes, we have precious few friends in that part of the world; but I think it’s clear that, by any definition of the term, Pakistan isn’t really an ally.

Much to the chagrin of news outlets, there were no correspondents embedded with the special ops team. However, a resident of Abbottabad live-tweeted about what he saw and heard. Sohaib Athar merged the age-old piece-of-the-picture you get from anyone who stumbles onto a Big Event without knowing what it is with Web 2.0 social networking. He is now discovering what it is to be a media darling—I’m betting his mobile phone is about to hit melt-down and his ISP is probably crashing with all the emails from global news purveyors wanting to interview him.

Speaking of broadcast media—I’m wondering how long it’ll take the producers of NCIS to air an episode in which the team provides vital support to the Navy SEALS during the raid.

I don’t know whether taking out Bin Laden will ameliorate any of the pain I feel when I think of 11 September. My friend Don was going to take a walk and then lift a glass in honor of all those who have lost in this war against terror. I think he has the right idea.