Building boom

There’s a lot of construction going on here in the Valley They Call Silicon, and Cupertino is just teeming with sites-in-progress, what with the new Apple headquarters going up, and apartments and shopping/eating centers nearby.

The Apple building, tellingly, is doughnut-shaped, with the focus entirely in on itself. This reflects both the secretiveness and self-centeredness of the culture as defined by Steve Jobs. It’s close enough to me to be on one of my walking circuits, when I shot this of the cranes behind the 12- or 15-foot fences:

But actually, what I find rather interesting is that there’s no apparent work week/weekend configuration for this construction. Weekday, Saturday, Sunday, holidays, the trucks are trucking, the cranes are moving and there’s non-stop road wetting to keep down the dust. Even on the rare occasions when it’s raining. And I’m not making that up.

In fact, here’s evidence from a shopping center (or maybe it’s an apartment city, it's hard for me to tell the difference at this point) on Stevens Creek Boulevard:

We live in strange times.

Gratitude Monday: Systerhood

Something really serendipitous happened last week. The SVForum, a non-profit that fosters information exchange around the tech industry here in the Valley They Call Silicon, put on a day-long conference Saturday in conjunction with International Women’s Day, which was yesterday. They called it Women in Tech Festival, and it cost $150 to attend.

Well, as you might imagine, that put it out of my reach.

As it happens, I’m a member of several women-in-tech email downloads, most of which are focused on various local areas (DC, Seattle, Bay Area). But one of them, Systers, is run by the Anita Borg Institute (those wonderful people who bring us the Grace Hopper Celebration every year; you may recall that GHC last year was where Microsoft’s CEO Satya Nadella forgot that one of women’s superpowers is their Twitter accounts); that one is global, and there are a lot of very interesting discussions passing across it.

On Tuesday, a Syster from Girls Can Hack announced that she had one free pass to the conference, which she’d give to whichever one of us emailed her first. I didn’t see the announcement until two hours after it had hit the list, and I figured that it had pretty much been snapped up within the first five minutes. But I thought, what the hell; I emailed her, and I forgot about it.

Well, blow me if that evening she didn’t reply telling me I got the pass! I know you don’t want this mental image, but I was doing the happy dance.

And as it happened, it was a great conference—very energizing speakers and panel discussions, fascinating startup pitches, good networking setup and well-planned transitions. I was particularly heartened by the diversity of attendees—more than just ethnicity, there were ages ranging from early 20s to probably 60s and maybe beyond; and way more than software developers. And yes, even a few men.

(I got a particular kick out of one speaker, who dared organizations to distinguish between real innovation and supplying a ping pong table when it comes to corporate culture. Also, the moderator of a panel who described her career path as “directile dysfunction”.)

Plus—and here’s the kind of spooky part—they had a small “trade show” area, where the startups and sponsoring organizations could demo their products. One of the displays was for HP recruiting, since this was held at an HP facility. And so it was that the very first person with whom I chatted was their recruiter, who came to HP with their acquisition of Autonomy, which is one of my target organizations (they do major league actionable data analytics, and I am all about the knowledge management, baby).

She’s got my details, and she said she’d reach out to me this week to make a connection with that division, so fingers crossed…

Well, it was a terrific day all around, and I am profoundly grateful to Girls Can Hack, to Systers and to the serendipity of me sending that email even though I was sure I was spitting into the wind. Sometimes, I guess, the wind turns just as you’re in the act.

You've come a long way, baby

I wasn’t going to post anything particular for today, even though it’s International Women’s Day, and Google has a doodle and everything.

But then I saw a photo on Twitter, of a plaque, and possibly installation art.

And I thought, well, that’s kind of interesting. So I clicked on it and idly scrolled down the comments. And stopped at the second.

And there we have it. Silent women scrubbing pavements and live sex with teen-aged girls streaming for free.

Thanks, Amelia, Sylvia, Malala, Ada, Eleanor, Golda, Sophie, and all the rest of you great gals, for all your perseverance and sacrifice.

#MakeItHappen

Tweelight zone

You know, the British Empire is long gone, despite the heroic efforts of Winston Churchill to hang on to it. And even the hip supremacy of the Fab Four and Carnaby Street has settled down to the Geriatric or Petrified Stones. But there are still features of whimsy and daftness that will remain Forever England.

Because, let’s face it, nobody does nutty quite like the Brits.

Case in point: Currently in Somerset, they have a problem with Fairy Doors. Well, an overabundance of them. They’re becoming as common as Starbucks, and authorities are therefore required to Take Action to halt the proliferation.

What’s that, you ask? Fairy doors? Why—they’re teeny little doors built into trees in Wayford Woods, for the, um, fairies. Just like it says.

I absolutely dunno how they got started, but at this point I can totally understand why “Fairy Control” is necessary. Because—in the absence of a homeowner association or town council, you can see how door builders have just lost the plot. 

No central design planning, so every possible shape, color and, er, ornamentation imaginable. Think glitter, people. And worse.

I mean—looks like some low-life no-better-than-they-should-be fairies have moved into the forest and at any moment will start putting tiny clapped-out washing machines in their front yards. Plus—they’ll start playing the radio loud at all hours and toss wee empty beer bottles about instead of placing them in the dumpsters like decent fairies would.

Apparently the actual door constructors have not been caught pink- or yellow-handed, which I find interesting. I mean—there are so many of the dag-blamed things that you’d expect that people would be tripping over one another as they install their work. Not to mention coming to blows over who has the rights to “door” a particular tree.

The local council has its work cut out for them in the door-abatement process. I’m sure there will be protests over the very concept of removing the fairy-portals. And how can you give esthetic reasons for demolishing the tacky ones and leaving only the twee? There might be fisticuffs yet.

I’m looking forward to the video.

Member matters

Following on yesterday's post, and filed under either W, T or F, a study published this week in the BJU International urology journal establishes the, um, average size of the human penis. It’s 13.12cm/5.16in erect; 11.66cm/9.16cm/3.6in flaccid.

The researchers collated measurements of more than 15,000 penises of men around the world, which must have made for interesting “what did you do at work” conversations with friends and families. It’s not entirely clear to me why, but I suppose the words “because”, “we” and “could” enter into it.

Also because they presumably got funding from somewhere.

(I was wondering how much a supply of sterile, disposable tape measures cost them? But then it turned out that this team didn’t actually go forth and measure; they just pulled, um, together metrics that were already out there. Although God knows why that would be.)

Also, I don’t know whether the notion that the results should help “reassure the large majority of men that the size of their penis is in the normal range” was part of the intention, or just one of the results. They even have a graph that healthcare providers can whip out when treating men with “small penis anxiety”.

They apparently didn’t find any correlation between the size of a man’s foot and the length of his penis. No mention of checking noses.

I liked the comment that while this study may be useful in reassuring men worried about their size, it might “have the unintended effect of denting the egos of those who thought they were abnormally well-endowed.”

And there we have the world in a nutshell: when it comes to men, you just can’t win.

They tried to kill us...

Today is the festival of Purim. Well, it started at sundown yesterday and runs to sundown today. It commemorates the unmasking of a plot by a Persian courtier to kill all Jews in the empire.

The person who foiled the genocide was the wife of King Ahaseurus, Queen Esther, who was a Jew. This took place in the 4^th Century BCE, but you’ll notice that history has been repeating itself pretty much ever since then.

Anyhow, Esther found out that the prime minister, Haman, was planning genocide, and she outed him in a clever way, which forms the basis of today’s celebration.

Esther won her position in a sort of beauty contest, which is a different history lesson altogether. However, her physical appeal does play into her ability to influence Ahaseurus, who hanged Haman. Then the Jews, given the right to defend themselves, killed a lot of those who wanted to destroy them.

And the next day they celebrated. Ergo Purim, which is a festival, involving feasting.

Here’s why I bring it up.

This image of Esther came around on social media, and I freely admit that Esther is quite the dish here, and you can see how Ahaseurus would let himself be guided by her rather than by Haman (who, by some accounts, had triangular ears).

However, I’ve always been more of a Judith girl myself. Her story is about triumphing over those who’d wish to destroy you, too, only she’s more of an actor than an influencer.

It seems that Holofernes led an invading army in behalf of Nebuchadnezzar, and he was proving successful against everyone, including the Jews, who had not actually been defeated, but they had become mightily discouraged.

One night, a widow named Judith sneaked into the enemy camp, entered the general’s tent and seduced him. Then, while he was lying basically exhausted, she cut off his head.

That proved enough to discourage his army, as well as invigorate the Jews’ army and they were saved.

Judith’s story did not make it into the mainstream Jewish and Protestant holy books (although the Roman and Orthodox Old Testaments include it). Possibly—and I’m just spitballing here—because it makes patriarchal power holders really uncomfortable to consider that while masses of armed males quail, a single woman has a set big enough to take care of business in a very direct, up-close-and-personal kind of way, involving a sharp blade and a swift stroke.

(I think there may also be some crossover angst revolving around the fact that a “head” was involved. You know how easy it is to confuse your heads when you’ve only got sufficient blood supply for one at a time.)

But it’s always appealed to me. Judith sees the problem, she weighs the possibilities, she makes a plan and she executes it. (Um.) She’s beautiful (you did see the part about seducing Holofernes, right?), smart, resolute, good with the cutlery and utterly courageous. Here's a woman who cuts through the crap, cuts to the chase, cuts through the carotid. I really like that in a broad.

As for images of Judith in action—there are quite a few famous ones. Here are two of my favorites. First by Gustave Klimt, painted in 1901.

I adore Klimt, and this is a gorgeous rendition, even though it’s lacking all context. Just this stunning woman, shimmering in gold, who happens to be holding the severed head of a barbarian.

Well, as you do.

My second—actually my very favorite—is by Artemisia Gentileschi, from the early 17^th Century. This one captures all the violence, power and resolve of Judith’s action.

Gentileschi was an incredible painter. She turned her own experience of being raped into the most vivid depiction yet of this story. It beats the daylights out of Caravaggio’s version. (I saw them both at an exhibition at the Royal Academy in 2001.)

Okay, well—back to today’s feast, which involves (among other things) Hamantashen and kreplach pastries. Sweet things to recall a good outcome.

And let me close with what a colleague of mine once said is the summary of all Jewish holidays:

“They tried to kill us. We won. Let’s eat.”

Manly vice

This crossed my path over the weekend:

In case you are wondering, yes, it is two World War II-era German soldiers lighting cigarettes with their flamethrower.

Here’s a thought: perhaps that crowd calling themselves ISIS might take instruction from this. You know—let them get into a pissing match over who can use the largest weapon system to light up. The survivors’ videos will definitely go viral.

Gratitude Monday: Friendly help

Last week my Gratitude Monday post mentioned (somewhat obliquely) that I’m looking for fulltime employment. The post wasn’t actually about the job search, and Lord knows there’s little enough gratitude-worthy about being out of regular work (although I have found moments of brightness in it). Really, all I was doing was talking about how practicing gratitude makes a difference in my life.

So today I’m grateful that someone in Virginia, whom I know only through another friend (and then Facebook), read the post and reached out to me to ask where I live and what I’m looking for. Then she followed up with two introductions via LinkedIn.

One of those has already connected with me, and I hope to have a conversation with him soon.

Look—there’s no guarantee that this guy will lead to something I can really sink my teeth into. But it might—indirectly, if not directly.

And it’s the mere fact that someone noticed, offered to help, and then did so that completely makes my day. Just, you know, humanity and kindness. That makes all the difference in the universe when you’re trying to push through challenges.

It also reminds me to do the same wherever I see the opportunity, which is another cause for thanks.

Stormy weather, California-style

As follow-on to yesterday’s thoughts on the effects of bad weather on our lives, I give you an example of how the innovative, disruptive thought-leaders of the Valley They Call Silicon bravely adjust to the vicissitudes of Mother Nature.

I’m a member of a couple of meetups that get you out in some of the local parks or on the trails. It makes a nice change from the gym or networking events. One of them, the Cupertino Walking Club, is fairly leisurely (as opposed to one or two others, whose idea of an “easy hike” is a pace in excess of four miles per hour climbing a considerable elevation. In the dark). The CWC aims to cover all the parks in the city, and then move on to those in other towns.

We were supposed to take on one of them this morning, but there was the possibility of rain forecast, which prompted a whole lot of hand flapping amongst the five people who’d signed up for the event. (“Oh, gosh—I’ve got my fingers crossed that it doesn’t rain!”)

So much so that at 2000 last night the organizer sent out this notice:

Yes—a mild walk of less than a mile in a city park was cancelled because it might rain.

Evidently all of these hard-charging high-flyers who are boldly shifting paradigms with their superpowers for the benighted masses will freaking melt if a few raindrops fall on them.

In the event—there were indeed a few clouds in the skies this morning. But not a hint of precipitation.

Stormy weather

You know, there’s a lot of coverage of the bad weather that has struck much of the US, successive blizzards dumping feet of snow across the heartland and up and down the East Coast.

People getting cabin fever, despite 500 cable channels, video games and the Internet, etc.

What I’m wondering is this: will there be a spike in the birth rate long about October-November? Because there are only so many things you can do when you can’t push your front door open for the snow drifts piling up against it.

I seem to recollect that, long about late September, 1996, hospitals around the D.C. area were prepping for a higher-than-usual call upon their obstetrics resources, because we’d had a really bad storm in early January.

Yeah, I know—back then there were fewer cable channels, no video streaming at all, not as sophisticated gaming, and not a lot of Internet around, as compared to now.

Even so, if you’re an obstetric nurse, you might want to consider booking your annual vacation prudently now.