Blast from the past

Here’s something I noticed while at RSAC—Moscone Center opened in 1981, and Moscone West (where this photo was shot) opened in 2003.

It’s kind of cute that even in this century, the architects and designers thought pay phones would continue to be so necessary that you could make the signs as permanent as those for the loos and the elevators.

For the what?

This year, stress balls were big in RSAC swag. In addition to clouds, polar bears and other manifestations, there were these sumo wrestlers:

Rhinos:

And fat lederhosen-clad guys:

I did not understand what was up with that—but it turns out baramundi is a software management company headquartered in Augsburg, not the barramundi fish. (They claim the lowercase all one word name is derived from the Spanish "para el mundo", "for the world". Even so, it’s a reach.)

I didn’t even want one, but it was the last day of expo, and companies absolutely toss their swag at you on that day so they don’t have to pay to schlep it home, so I took the two the guy at the booth pushed at me.

And I’ve already been spammed by them.

Adjective AF

One of the things I enjoy about conferences—especially those with expos—is observing how companies choose to present themselves. This is particularly true of tech companies.

So, amidst a sea of “we cool—look at us” booths, this one stood out:

I did not even notice who they were; it’s only in this photo that I see the company name. But their carnival barker speaker was hitting home the “AF” part. AF punctuated every line of his spiel.

I have to say that I personally found it a little trying-too-hard-to-be-edgy lame. Along the lines of:

And I have no idea if it worked. I only know that, because I paused to fish around in my bag for my camera, one of the booth babes scanned my badge and foisted one of their totes on me. I’ll be getting their spam shortly. That will be fun AF.

Herbs and spices

You know you’re in the Golden State when the benches outside Moscone Center have this notice on them:

Man, I do miss that kind of thing.

(Thankfully, I didn’t really notice many vapers. I swear SF was at the epicenter of that trend about six years ago. I did catch a whiff of marijuana as I was walking past Yerba Buena Park one mid-day. That somehow seemed appropriate.)

Gratitude Monday: those who make it work

Well, here I am, back from RSA Conference 2020. It was quite a week, and there are a couple of things in particular I’m grateful for today.

First is the army of service workers it takes to put on a conference of this size. All the cleaners—especially this time, what with coronavirus and all; the food workers; the trash emptiers…

All no doubt low-wage contract labor for Moscone, with few (if any) benefits. The ones I saw were mostly non-white and over-40ish.

Also, the ones brought in by the various exhibitors to pizazz up their booths—making margaritas for this one, lattes for that; baking cookies on the spot (which were not handed out to Expo-only badge holders, BTW). I did not see one crabby-looking person, and the latte I got was just as pretty as any coffeehouse’s:

And the hotel housekeepers, God bless ‘em. You could not pay me enough money to clean up after someone else, so I always leave a fiver of the local currency and a thankyou note after each night of my stay. For the first time ever, I got replies. Tuesday’s:

Wednesday’s:

  

Thursday’s:

(Yes, I left a fiver and a note for whoever cleaned up after I left on Friday, too.)

The other object of gratitude today is the confraternity of product management. The one party I was really looking forward to was the “Luxury Whisky Tasting” set for Thursday night. Wednesday I was at a lunch event and chatting with a couple of fellows who are also PMs. I thought the company one worked for sounded familiar, so I said I thought I’d signed up for a party they were hosting. He got an odd look on his face and said they were holding a whisky tasting.

Yay!

But—a lot of people were going to get no-room-at-the-inn emails.

Damn.

But, he suggested we connect on LinkedIn, and he’d send me the suite number on the sly (it was being held in my hotel). And indeed, late Thursday he emailed me the info and suggested that there might be room later in the evening.

So I held off until about 45 minutes before end-time and then shot up. Man—the aroma of that nectar filled the lobby as I got off the elevator. My PM pal escorted me in, and I had one of the best times ever at a conference event. It wasn’t just the whiskies; it was the conversations as well. Cyber sec folks are very congenial; even more so when they’ve wrapped themselves around some single malt.

They’d run out of the Belgian whiskey by then, but I tried the Japanese, Welsh, Israeli and Scots stuff. The first did not suit my profile, but the others were divine.

And I’d never have had that opportunity had I not chatted with my new PM pal the day before. (I learned that the company had had 650 replies to their announcement. They gave 250 the lucky golden suite number, figuring about 40% would actually show up. More than 200 did; they were lined up down the corridor by the time the party officially started.)

So here’s to the professionalism of service workers, the generosity of PMs and the discovery of new worlds. Much, much gratitude today.

Happiness is...

I’m heading home from RSAC, and I have to say I am more than ready. I’m also very, very glad indeed that I should be able to start the hyaluronate injections next week.

I’ve learned lots, lots of which I need to organize and report on. But I’ll leave you with these pix of happiness sponsored by a company called ThreatQuotient. Each year they bring in puppies—adoptable puppies—from local shelters.

Also, apparently, an adoptable pig this year.

That's an FBI dog checking out the pig:

Steps: a skosh over 7,000.

Peace out.

Champagne and socks

RSAC, Day Three. Steps: >9300.

Started out the day synching with my Amsterdam colleague (who’s in Pune this week), and then went to a Courageous Women in Cyber brunch held at a Brazilian restaurant across the street from Moscone that’s been taken over for the week by one of the companies.

They were pouring Veuve Clicquot, so I had a glass. The speaker was very good, too.

(Side note: why does Microsoft spellcheck recognize veuve, but not Clicquot?)

At the conference, I sat through enough demos (operative term being “sat”—seriously, I’d have stuck out a revival meeting if I got to sit) to take back to the hotel eight more tee-shirts, a travel umbrella, a wireless mouse, a wireless charging pad, a $5 Starbucks card and a pair of socks. I also attended a talk on using AI and machine learning for digital forensics.

Additionally, I went to a lunch at the Children’s Creativity Museum. I could not eat, due to the brunch, but I ended up having quite a good chat with a couple of product managers from other companies.

By evening, however, I bagged all the parties except the one hosted by the competitor that was such a snot to me on Tuesday. I reckoned they owed me a drink. And maybe some loose talk.nThen I went to dinner with some colleagues, including the SVP. When I got that invitation mid-afternoon, I thought it might be a career-limiting move to decline.

I need your thoughts and prayers, folks. There’s still another full day of this to go.

Competing interests

Day Two of RSAC; steps: more than 12,000. Here’s Moscone South just before the Expo opened:

I mooched around the halls for much of the day, channeling my inner blonde asking competitors questions about their products. Mostly I got away with it. Dave, a sales engineer with one company was mansplaining things no end. Then his colleague Kyle, having apparently looked at my badge, started asking questions about my job. Kyle clearly did not hold with sharing info.

Guy from another company flat out told me, “You’re a competitor. We’re not going to tell you anything.”

Well, joke’s on him, because I’m going to their sponsored party tonight. They haven’t disinvited me from that.

Also, we’ll crush them like a bug.

Speaking of parties, I limited it to three last night. I only went to the third one because it was the personal-via-LinkedIn invitation to the event at the fancy steakhouse. Also, it’s within staggering distance of my hotel and the other two parties. I bagged number four.

And I had to mess with JIRA tickets when I got back in the evening.

Security socials

Day One of RSAC. Kind of proto-day, actually. Yesterday they were finishing up the seminars and such. The keynotes, talks and expo open today.

Actually, yesterday evening there was a boozy-foody preview of the expo, and I did a reco to pinpoint my target competitors. That counts as one of the five parties I hit. I had to bag three others, because enough is enough. By the time I got to number five, even though it was held at a bar with premium liquor on offer, I was guzzling sparkling water, because two parties earlier the other premium booze place made a margarita with 2/3 tequila and Cointreau and a splash of lime, so that was me pretty well gone. Even though I didn’t finish it.

These were just the events I could walk to.

I can’t tell you how sorry I am I missed the CyberTacos party. It was at a tequila bar, which I’d purely love to experience. I’d have splashed out for an Uber ride, and there was another thing going on within walking distance of that. But a girl’s gotta know her limitations.

Steps: more than 11,500. And it’s not a full conference day. I am properly glad I brought that muscle roller stick. I put it to use on the soles of my feet.

Gratitude Monday: expanding knowledge

I’m headed out to the RSA Conference this week. It’s the mother of all cyber security conferences, and this is my first time there with anything but an expo-only pass.

I’m massively grateful that I snagged a room at the Marriot Marquis, next to Moscone Center. That saves me half-a-mile walks each way to and from the conference. As part of the full-on experience, I’ve registered for every party that let me. (Interestingly, about a week after I was confirmed at one of them, I got an email telling me I’d been disinvited, because “we reserve space for our customers, and don’t allow competitors in”. Well, tbh, I didn’t even know who they are; I saw the term “soirée” and hit Register. Their loss.

Also, every company in attendance is a competitor on some level, so that’s going to restrict the critical mass some.

There are a couple I have to attend, because they’re hosted by competitors we’re particularly interested in. (I’m going to let my inner blonde out and encourage all kinds of conversation after folks have had a few post-expo libations.) But I’ll have to cull many of the others, because I’m registered at a minimum of three and a maximum of six for each of the four nights I’m there.

Oh, the other must-go (fortunately not on one of the target-competitor nights) is the “Luxury Whiskey Tasting” one. I can’t remember who’s throwing it. I just know I’ll be there and hope their idea of luxury whiskey isn’t bourbon.

There’s one more, at ALX Steakhouse, one of the nights (Tuesday?). Someone reached out to me via LinkedIn to invite me to that one. I said sure, but we’ll see. I know neither him, nor his company nor the steakhouse. If it conflicts with one of the target competitors, well, I’ll have to send my regrets.

It’s interesting that some companies—notably IBM—have pulled out of RSA this year. Because coronavirus. Maybe that’s why I was able to get the room at the conference HQ hotel. Yesterday the conference app sent out a message advising everyone attending to wash our hands thoroughly (for at least 20 seconds) about 16 times per hour.

My suitcase is packed, with lots of room for collateral materials from competitors and swag from everyone. Mostly what’s there is a muscle roller, anti-pain gel, extra pair of walking shoes, cushioned socks, extra-strength Tylenol, prescription-strength NSAID and a few tabs of oxy, for the worst-case scenario. I’m grateful for the opportunity to experience this conference, and I don’t want it ruined by pain.