Tech: Windows 8 Really Is As Bad as You've Heard

My father-in-law's PC, at six years old, is getting a bit long in the tooth (especially for a machine expected to juggle his collection of 1100 digital photos). With performance slowing down and errors cropping up, we decided to get him a new PC for Father's Day.  

Friday night, we copied his files over to the new machine, cranked it up, and got ready for the magic of WIndows 8. Because we had his old and his new PC side-by-side on the desktop, we were eager for him to see just how fast and exciting a new Windows 8 machine could be. 

Except ... it was't that way at all. The new HP with Windows 8 was slow and cranky. The Start screen sported lots of tiles dedicated to pre-installed crapware. The photo viewer displayed photos oddly, if at all, with just as many gray squares (unrendered photos) as thumbnails popping up on screen. Launched apps -- Music and Maps and even Weather -- took forever to display information. 

Worse, the new WIndows 8 is just terrible, with navigational controls fading away without notice, leaving the user to guess how to get from A to B. Even though Clyde and I had taken classes on the interface, we spent ages just figuring out how to do simple things, like making it easy for my father-in-law to use the apps he depends on every day. Amazingly, Joe's six year-old PC running Windows 7 felt zippier and more responsive than the brand new HP PC with Windows 8.

Worse: my father-in-law's favorite thing to do with his PC is create DVDs of his photos, so he can share them with his friends and watch them on the TV in his exercise room. But Windows 8 lacks the familiar Windows DVD Maker, making it impossible to generate photo DVDs without buying third party software.  

We ended up boxing the new PC up and returning it to the Best Buy from which it came. At the Customer Service desk, the young woman behind the counter asked, "What's wrong with it?"

"Windows 8," I said.  

She nodded in agreement. "I hate it. I need a new computer, and I won't buy one, because I don't want one with Windows 8 on it." She lowered her voice. "No one does. We get these back all the time."

I'm not a "fanboy." I think people should choose the computer and software that's best for their needs, whatever the operating system. That said: Microsoft is just going to have to do better than this. When brand new computers are slower than PCs that are six years old ... when starting up a new PC becomes an exercise in frustration ... when it's next to impossible to figure out what to do and how to do it ... when beloved and simple apps are booted in favor of complicated, X-box enabled crapware ... well, that's a problem and it doesn't bode well for That Little Company in Redmond.

Social Media: Authenticity Matters

I'm not much for following celebrities' social media accounts. But when I hear that a celebrity's social media presence is managed and generated by a staff, I lose whatever little interest I might have had.

George Takei has gained a lot of followers and a lot of respect for the cleverness and insight of his Facebook posts. Now, though, it seems that random comedians, "his husband," and uncredited "interns" are responsible for creating and managing that content. 

Takei's response ("What is important is the reliability of my posts being there to greet my fans with a smile or a giggle every morning.") demonstrates a failure to grasp the essence and spirit of social media: its ability to provide direct access, to foster authentic connections with authentic people.

Worse, Mr. Takei seems to be overlooking the irony in his own response: If  "what's important is the reliability of my posts being there ... every morning," one might want to put a little effort into one's posts being one's own.

If we discovered a five-star chef's award-winning food was conceived and prepared by a secret staff, would we say, "All that's important is the reliability of his food appearing on our plates?" If we discovered uncredited interns had actually directed Hitchcock's movies, would we say, "All that's important is the reliability of those movies appearing on the screen?" If all of Ansel Adam's photos had been taken by a staff and merely credited to him, would we say, "All that matters s having those lovely photos on our walls?"

A painting you buy is not really "your" painting. A book you buy is not really "your" book. A song you purchase is not really "your" song.

Now more than ever, authenticity matters.

Cruise Tips from the Crazy Lady: Sleep In

We were on our Holland America cruise around South America when we met the Crazy Lady: a hot-headed older woman who had "had enough" of Holland America's "ridiculous behavior."

"Our room was so noisy," she said. "Terribly noisy. No sleeping. And then the thermostat broke. I went to the front desk and said they had to do something. We were freezing to death in our own room. The air conditioning was full-blast and could not be shut off." 

"What did they say?" I asked. 

"They said they would send a man to fix it!" Crazy Lady said. "And they did. But it did nothing. So we were freezing and could not sleep for two days." 

"They couldn't get you another room?" Clyde asked. 

"They said all rooms were taken," Crazy Lady replied. "And then, I had an idea. I got on my pajamas, and got a blanket and a pillow." She leaned in close, as though sharing a great secret. "And then I went down to the Customer Service desk and told them that I was sleeping on the couch in front of the Customer Service office until they gave me another room." 

My eyebrows went up. "And...?" 

"They said I couldn't sleep there. And I said I could. And they said I could not. And so I went right then and there and curled up on the couch under my blanket and told the people who stared at me why I had to sleep there." 

Clyde grinned. "And?" 

Crazy Lady beamed. "They found us another room." 

Note to self: When hotels and cruise liners are "fully booked" and can't move you to another room ... consider the Crazy Lady Strategy. 

Health and Diet: How I Eat and Why

Four days ago, someone I'd consider a stranger stopped me in the elevator and asked, "What are you doing to lose that weight?" 

That was an important milestone for me, because it means the changes I've made in my lifestyle are having effects others can see. As more people notice the differences, the questions begin: What plan? Low carb? Low fat? The Zone? Cleanses? Purges? Pills? 

No one really likes the truth: I'm losing weight ... because I've stopped trying. My focus is on healthy eating, and on making subtle changes to my routine that support and encourage healthier habits in general. Honestly, the weight loss isn't a goal -- it's just a side-effect.

Not very sexy or marketable, is it? 

Fat, Thin, and Fat Again

In 2011, unhappy with my weight, I combined a low-carb eating regimen with Tim Ferris' idea of a blow-it out, epic indulgence day (a once-per-week, hedonistic, non-stop free-for-all day of unabashed gluttony). 

Over eight months, I lost forty pounds. When I hit my goal weight of 195, I resolved not to become that guy who "lost all that weight and gained it all back." 

In 2012, I gained back thirty of those forty pounds. 

Bad Habits Produce Bad Results

How? Well, first, what had been an indulgence day (Saturday) began expanding into an indulgence weekend, with indulgences starting Friday at breakfast and continuing through Sunday evening. Then, during the week, I added an indulgence on Wednesday night.

And soon, old habits -- emotional eating, mindless eating -- returned. Fried appetizers? I deserved them. A basket of rolls? So soft, so good -- don't they have to be wholesome? Reese Cups as a mid-afternoon snack at work? What damage can two little peanut butter cups do?

Worse, even though the indulgences were now non-stop, I still considered Saturday (and the weekends, by extension) to be Indulgence Days -- and, on those days, ate even more.

Eight months on a low-carb regimen gave me a taste for fatty red meat and heavy dairy. Those habits, combined with my new omnivorous eating plan, created a perfect storm of weight gain and unhealthiness. Soon, I felt sluggish and ill-tempered again -- and who wouldn't, eating that way?

Visit from a Messenger

And then, about six weeks ago, I had a dream. In it, a handsome young man enveloped in golden light looked directly at me and, with a great deal of compassion, asked, "Why are you eating like someone who wants to die?"

Those words hit me like a spike through the heart. I woke up terrified. More importantly, I realized that, instead of just focusing on my weight, I wanted to eat like someone who wants to live: to build dietary habits that contribute to longevity and lucidity and clarity.

So I put my life-long focus on weight loss aside and came up with a new plan. 

The Plan

There's no name for it. I don't plan to market it. And it may not even be right for you. But here's the plan I came up with: with my goals in mind:

1) Eat mostly plants. I want the heart-healthy and anti-cancer advantages of a diet that's largely plant-based. So now, when I sit down to eat, I eat green vegetables first: spinach, collard greens, peppers, broccoli, celery, spring mix, green beans, peas, asparagus. I supplement those with beans, legumes, colorful peppers, carrots, and a little corn. During the day, I have all the fruit I want: oranges, bananas, apples, grapes, fresh pineapple.  

2) Restrict animal protein. I'm not vegan, but I am interested in the heart-healthy and anti-cancer properties of a vegan or near-vegan diet. When I can't or don't want to avoid meat entirely, I'll generally choose salmon, then seafood in general, then lean white meat, or, if there are no other options, lean red meat. During the week, I try not to eat meat more than once or twice.

I've stopped drinking cream in my coffee (and now actually prefer the way it tastes with a cinnamon stick dunked in it). I avoid cheese, yogurt, and other dairy products as much as possible, but don't freak out if I have to eat a little. I avoid eggs, but I'm aware that some foods I eat have an egg component in them (and I restrict these).

3) Limit carbs. I avoid white bread, white rice, and white sugar (including high fructose corn syrup and all artificial sweeteners), choosing whole grains instead. If I get a bagel, I eat half (with lots of tomato slices, vegetarian sausage, and sprouts). If I get a black bean burger, I eat half the bun. During the week, I don't generally eat sweets, preferring fruit instead.

4) Eliminate fried foods. Delicious as they are, they're terrible for you. If I have no other options, I'll have four or five french fries (instead of a plateful) or one samosa (instead of six) no more than once a week. 

5) On Saturday only, treat yourself to anything -- in moderation. A pancake? Sure. A slice of pizza, with real cheese and veggie toppings? Yep. Split a piece of cake with Clyde? Of course. A very fine piece of candy or two? Why not? A small scoop of ice cream? Chocolate, please. A bite or three of mac and cheese? Anything in moderation -- that is, keep indulgence portion sizes small.

Honestly, though? As I'm eating better, I want less of stuff like this. Limiting treats gets easier once your body chemistry changes ... and, surprisingly, foods like green beans and spinach and quinoa and kale start becoming tastier.

And finally: 

6) Don't freak out. The goal isn't to adhere to some crazy-strict regimen; it's to be a conscious eater, to appreciate what's in front of me, and to make the best possible choices in the moment.

If I find myself having to eat more whole grain bread at lunch than I would have liked, I have just veggies at dinner. If friends pick a barbecue joint for dinner, I have all the vegetable sides I can eat while still limiting meat and dairy. If a sweet little old lady offers me a plate of cookies, I'll take one and have a bite rather than offend her. If my FreshNFit vegetarian meal occasionally contains trace amounts of egg or a little cheese, I don't fret.

The Impact

I feel great. My body tells me I'm getting healthier. And because I'm building habits instead of depending solely on willpower, I'm seeing real success. 

Oh -- and, as a side effect, I'm down from 223 to 211 -- and falling -- without any effort or struggle at all. There is no goal weight this time. Instead, the goal is to eat like someone who plans to be around for a long, sweet life together with the man I love. (There's a halo effect at work here, too. Now that I'm eating better, he is, too ... and we're both healthier, happier, and losing weight.)

So: I'm happy and healthy and think I'm onto something. Here's hoping you can find a way of relating to food that works as well for you. 

Review: FreshNFit Cuisine Meal Service Offers Lottery Lifestyle at Everyday Prices

We admit it: Clyde and I spend a lot of time fantasizing about winning the lottery. But given the odds of winning, we've been spending more time lately asking, "Which 'lottery lifestyle' elements could we add to our lives today ... without ever winning the lottery?"

Both of us have "personal chef" high on our lottery lifestyle list -- someone who would prepare delicious, healthy meals based on our dietary goals and personal tastes. No decisions to make; instead, at lunch and dinner, we'd just tuck in to whatever Chef whipped up for us, confident it would be delicious.

Having a real personal chef on our full-time staff could be pricey (and awkward, since our current condo has no place for Chef to sleep!). And while we've read about personal chef services that send a chef to your home once a week to cook and freeze meals, we're on a bit of a "fresh food with minimal preparation" kick just now, and we want to avoid the freezer. 

FreshNFit - The Affordable Personal Chef

Enter FreshNFit Cuisine. Clyde discovered them, actually: an Atlanta company that cooks delicious meals and delivers them to more than sixty locations in the metro area (or right to your door, if you wanna pay for that). This is no fledgling, fly-by-night operation on the verge of going down the dot-com drain, either: they've been in business since 2003.

Intrigued by the proposal -- fresh meals for as little as $7.00 each  -- we signed up for a week of service. We selected the 1200 calorie-per-day option (there's an 1800 calorie-per-day option as well), and since I'm trying to eat less meat and more vegetables, I went with the vegetarian option, too.

You can buy 1, 2, or 3 meals a day for 3, 5, or 7 days a week; we signed on for one week at two meals per day. And since one of the sixty-odd drop-off points for fresh meals is right next door to our house, we opted out of home delivery. (Each drop-off point has a huge, locked refrigerator where meals magically appear twice a week.) We picked up our first shipment, carried it up to the condo, and dug in.

The meals come packaged in a two-compartment plastic container sealed with a thin film of plastic. Instructions tell you to vent each compartment by lifting the film (more on that later), and to heat the meals in a microwave for 2-3 minutes. Oh -- and each meal is well-balanced, with an emphasis on getting just the right blend of carbs, protein, fiber, etc.

All very convenient, right? But, ultimately, all that mattered to me was this: how would FreshNFit Cuisine actually taste? 

But How's the Food?

In a word: delicious. 

Yeah, I confess I was surprised by just how much I liked my FreshNFit meal. In fact, I was so prepared *not* to like it, I was almost shocked by how tasty it was. My first meal was the veggieloaf with a side of green beans with slivers of onion and red peppers. The veggieloaf was moist and savory, and the crunchy green beans were fresh and well-seasoned, without being salty or drenched in glaze. Best of all, the meal was really filling and satisfying ... another nice surprise.

Since then, I've enjoyed the meatless taco (veggie crumbles, salsa, and spicy beans), a breaded faux-chicken patty sandwich (very nice, especially with a little Siraccha sauce added), a hearty quinoa salad with sun-dried tomatoes, and Schezuan tofu over spicy noodles with a side of crunchy carrots. I've eaten every single bite of almost every single meal -- as as someone who's a pretty demanding diner, that says a lot for the folks at FreshNFit.

Minor Misses

Two weeks in, only one entree failed to deliver on its promise of fresh and fit goodness: the black bean and goat cheese quesadillas. I took them to work and microwaved them according to package instructions, only to discover that my tortillas became hard and chewy ... and the quesadillas themselves were too small and too dry. (The multi-grain salad was as delicious as ever, though.)

Here's the issue: every single package features the same preparation instructions. Problem is, those instructions just aren't always applicable to the stuff inside the meal pack. Meals with any bread (sandwiches, tortillas, etc.) work best when you remove the bread element and heat it separately in an oven.

You should also make sure you check for fresh fruit! Clyde's meal yesterday had a big, fat, juicy plum in the second compartment ... and who wants to eat a microwaved plum?

But this is a minor issue, and you can bypass it with just a little forethought and effort.

Questions from Friends

Do you miss eating out? Not really. We do enjoy going out to eat, and we used to eat out as many as fifteen times a week. (I know, I know.) At first, especially at night when I was tired and hungry, my "Let's just eat out" reflex would kick in.

But now I'm used to walking home and digging in ... and tucking into each fresh-cooked meal is like opening a little cuisine present prepared just for me. We still go out with friends from time to time, and so we order fewer meals than we need, expecting to shuffle them a bit.

Meantime, apart from maybe one meal out per weekday, eating out is now a nice weekend treat ... that that feels about right to us.

Is the food really that good? Yes. I'm even eating things I never thought I would, like collard greens, black-eyed peas, lentils, and quinoa. It's all delicious. 

How's the meat? I can't help you there, as I'm eating the vegetarian meals. But I did have some shrimp from one of Clyde's meals, and they were surprisingly large, fat, and tasty.  

Is there a dessert? Nope.  

Are you eating enough calories? 1200 per day isn't much. I'm eating plenty. The food is great, and I supplement it with all the fresh fruit I want, plus nuts in moderation. Next week, I'm trying the 1800 calorie meal plan for the first time, but I expect those meals will actually have more in them than I can eat at one sitting.

What if the meal includes something you don't like? For me, that hasn't yet been an issue -- and I'm picky. That said: I have resolved to "eat what's put in front of me," and, as a result, I've wound up eating many things (primarily vegetables) that I would never have ordered at a restaurant ... and I've liked them. If you were to get a meal you didn't like, well, I guess you could eat something else. Come on -- it's just one meal.

How often do meals repeat? Once a month. There's plenty of variety. 

Is it expensive? Not at all. When we eat out, it's hard to walk away from our favorite restaurants without spending at least twenty-five dollars (and, if drinks, appetizers, or desserts are involved, a bill for two can easily top forty bucks).

Based on our current FreshNFit meal frequency and configurations, we're spending about eight dollars per meal. Could we buy the ingredients and cook them for ourselves for less? Maybe -- but we know from prior experience that we probably wouldn't do that.

The savings go beyond the food, though. We're driving less (because we don't get out in traffic to go to restaurants as much). And we save time, too -- I'm home by six, and we've eaten and put dishes away by six-thirty. 

Recommendation

If you're wanting to eat fresher, healthier food, but don't think you'll ever get around to buying, preparing, or cooking the ingredients yourself ... FreshNFit Cuisine is a great option. When the fridge is stuffed with delicious, convenient meals, you're likely to eat better (and less expensively) than you would at restaurants that make their money by tempting you with beverages and fried snacks and sugary desserts.  

Especially since there's no contract, there's very little risk, so I suggest you do what we did: sign up for three or five meals per week, and see how it goes. We've just ordered our third week of meals ... and we expect to continue to be customers for weeks to come. Go to their website, find the drop-off location near your home, and enjoy.

(Note: there are all kinds of specials and deals for new customers lately. Several friends sent us a note about FreshNFit Cuisine on Amazon Local Deals -- a week of meals for just $65.00! So keep your peepers open for discounts and coupons.) 

The Container Store (Or, How to Lose a Passionate Customer)

I took my first trip to The Container Store last week. The new location here in Atlanta is big and bright, with a friendly (but not cloying) staff and helpful (but not aggressive) people demonstrating products. It's a bit like an Apple Store for office and organization products. 

We went in for a $20 solution for storing shoes, and left with $300 worth of wall-mounted shampoo pumps, tie and belt organizers, a monitor stand, and more. At check-out, the rep pushed a pad to me and said, "Give us your email address, and we'll send you coupons." 

Normally, this is where I say, "No, thanks." Because I'm so free with my email address, I get plenty of spam, thank you ... so I'm not usually in the mood to volunteer for more.  

"It's just the occasional email," the young woman said, beaming.  

And because I was in a good mood, and because my discovery of Eagle Creek's suitcase packing solutions had me feeling a little giddy about The Container Store's brand, I handed over my address.  

It Starts with a Trickle

Within twenty-four hours, I received my first email from The Container Store folks: a coupon for ten percent off my next purchase, provided I made it within 30 days. "That's not a bad idea," I said. "They're using small rewards to encourage new customers to come back to the store within a month of the first visit. Smart."  I poked the email into Evernote, so that I could find it later, when I returned for more shopping.

Two days later: another email. "We want to get to know you!" the headline said. I declined the opportunity to fill out a survey about my shopping habits. 

Two days later: "An exclusive offer from REAL SIMPLE!" the headline shouted. I deleted it without reading it.  

A day later: "Must-have travel essentials are on-sale!" Now, I'm all about travel. I'm probably in the target market for this very sale. But with my inbox rapidly filling up with unwanted spam from The Container Store, I deleted the email unread.

And then, that same day, another email from The Container Store. The next day, another. When I received my sixth email in less than a week, I clicked the unsubscribe link.  

The Transformed Customer

The very next morning, an email from The Container Store: "Write a review of your recent purchase! We want to know what you think!" 

Well, here's what I think: thanks to remarkably annoying and ill-conceived email practices from The Container Store's marketing department, in less than a week, I've gone from "enthusiastic new brand evangelist" to "active opponent." A week ago, I looked forward to going back to The Container Store. Today, I've written a Gmail filter that will automatically delete their emails before I even see them ... and I don't think I'll ever go back.

Lessons for Marketers

1. When someone gives you permission to market your wares to them, don't abuse that trust. Hammering someone with constant email offers doesn't keep your brand top of mind. It just makes people regret ever having opened their heart to you.

2. No one wants much email from a brand. The brand I'm most enthusiastic about is probably Apple ... and not even I want an email (or more) per day from them. Hit me once a month or so with offers tailored to my interest. Be selective. 

3. When someone unsubscribes, honor that. Unsubscribe links should work, and should be processed immediately. Think of that as a final chance to preserve the relationship ... because when one more email comes after the customer unsubscribes, you're essentially giving that customer the finger: "Don't want to hear from us? We don't really care."

A Good Solution

Thanks to my Container Store experience, I now have one single email address I plan to use for every single purchase that requires or requests one. Mail sent to that address goes straight to an archive; it never reaches me directly. If I want to go trolling for coupons or upgrade notices or new product announcements, I can browse it at my leisure ... but no brand (and especially not The Container Store) will be welcome in my personal email inbox again. 

Better Travel through Better Packing - Review of Eagle Creek Travel Gear

Eagle Creek Travel Gear makes a seductive promise: using their products, you can pack faster and arrive looking better. 

With all the travel we do, you'd think I would be a packing pro. I've tried almost every method out there: bundling, rolling, wrapping. And while I can get a *lot* of clothes in one suitcase, the end result always disappoints me, because no matter how careful I am, my clothes come out creased and wrinkled when I reach my destination. (And for someone who just doesn't iron, that's a problem.) 

A Wrinkle-Free Proposition

And then, the other day, while at The Container Store, a helpful associate demonstrated Eagle Creek's Travel Gear for us. In seconds, with the help of a thin, slick plastic board, she folded a series of dress shirts and three pairs of slacks. After folding each piece, she slid it off the folding board and onto a growing stack atop a flat, rectangular panel of tough synthetic fabric. When the stack was done, she folded up the four corners of the fabric case and fastened them in place with Velcro, creating a tight, compact bundle.

Frankly? The process looked so easy, I suspected a trick. I've bought many gadgets designed to "Make! Life! Easier!" in the past, only to have them break down or under-deliver once in use. I imagined myself wrestling with the Travel Gear folding board -- wrapping shirts around it, the shirts slipping off it, the sleeves twisting awkwardly. I pictured myself arriving, opening the suitcases, opening the bundle, and finding deep, permanent wrinkles pressed into every single item. In my mind's eye, strangers on the street laughed and pointed at my double creases and seamed fabrics. Humiliation!

Still, the idea of packing in seconds and arriving without wrinkles appealed to me ... so I decided to try the system out for myself. 

Mark's First Trip to Eagle Creek

I bought the Eagle Creek 18-inch Pack-It Folder, along with two of the company's clever quarter-size packing cubes. Last Thursday, I selected two pairs of jeans, three polo shirts, three t-shirts, and a thin jacket. I got out my Pack-It Folder and took a deep breath.

And I had a perfectly packed bundle in less than five minute.

Listen: packing this way really did feel like some kind of magic trick. It was almost too fast, too efficient. One minute, I had a pile of clothes. The next minute, I had a neat, tight little bundle, a bit like a briefcase. It fit right into my suitcase like a custom accessory.

Socks and my trusty Under Armour briefs (Best! Underwear! Ever!) fit snugly into one of my packing cubes. A pair of shoes fit perfectly into the other. In the suitcase, every thing was perfectly arranged and organized -- like a little bento box of couture. 

The Proof is in the Unpacking!

The real test, though, came in Seattle, when I opened my suitcase, opened the bundle, and discovered to my delight that my shirts, jeans, and coat were in pristine condition: no wrinkles at all. They were still so neatly folded, in fact, I didn't bother hanging anything. Instead, I just transferred the folded items to a drawer. 

Instead of unpacking socks and shorts, I just popped the packing cube into another drawer. Once my shoes were put away, I was completely unpacked ... again, in less than five minutes! 

Like me, Clyde had been suspicious of the product's claims. But even he seemed impressed by how quickly I packed and unpacked my suitcase ... and by how nice my clothes looked upon arrival. Are there Eagle Creek packing products in his future? Why, yes, of course!

What to Buy

Pack-It Folders come in several sizes. I like my 18-inch folder, but for longer trips, the 20-inch folder (which can hold 12-15 items) might be nice. 

If you travel at all, this purchase is a no-brainer, since very few travel products offer this much magic for this little cash. After using a Travel Folder, I can't imagine traveling without one.

Start with a folder and two cubes. You should get yours now, from Amazon.com, where you can pick them up for the very same prices the Container Store charges ... or less!

Twenty-One Years Together

Today, Clyde and I celebrate twenty-one years together!

Us, in one of the first photos ever taken together, twenty-one years ago.

Twenty-one years ago today, I had my first date with Clyde, my soulmate and the love of my life. We've been together almost every day since. Whether we're home together or traveling the world, our relationship has been the achievement I value most -- the blessing I value above all others.

Us, in Bangkok, late last year.

I can't express how how much I love him, or tell you how much my love for him has grown over the past twenty-one years. I'm so, so happy to have shared the best years of my life with this sweet, smart, gentle soul ... and that I can't wait to see where we'll go together next!

And who knows? Wouldn't it be wonderful if, in the year our relationship turns "legal" (that is, 21), that our country would decide to recognize our dedication to each other ... and make it legal for us to be married in the eyes of the law?

Surely one of our most fundamental rights should be to love whom we choose ... and to give that person all the rights and privileges that being married brings.

I love you, Little Monkey. Happy Anniversary!

On "Apple Versus" Anyone

I'm not into the "Apple vs. Google" or "Android vs. iOS" arguments. I use whatever tech works best to get the job done; to me, that's all that matters.

That said: I wonder if commentator John Gruber really thought about the implications of this observation, published in a post called "Google Versus":

"Google is the company that built Android after the iPhone, Google Plus after Facebook, and now a subscription music service after Spotify ... Gmail? Webmail but better. Think about even web search: Google search wasn’t something new; it was something better ... Google Maps entered a market where MapQuest and others had been around for years." 

In context, he's arguing that there's something a little naive about Larry Page's weariness over seeing "hyper-competitive" Google positioned as "versus" someone else." 

The more important insight here is that Google tends to watch as competitors identify markets ... and then come up with products designed outperform the competition. (Many companies do this, including Apple. The iPhone, after all, was a rethinking of what existing cell phones could be.)

Lately, Apple's track record with this approach isn't as impressive as Google's. Consider Maps, which was panned as a stinker. Google Maps existed, and provided a level of service everyone loved. Apple made an effort to replicate that ... and failed. The new Google Maps, announced yesterday, widens the gap between Apple's sub-par copy and Google's product even more. 

If Apple is going to continue to grow, their response to that kind of one-upmanship from Google has got to go beyond calling people "Glassholes" for wearing Google Glass and preventing users from making Google Maps the default mapping app on the iPhone.

Travel Options for Lottery Winners (On Second Thought)

After writing this morning's post on Travel Options for Lottery Winners, I began having second thoughts during the walk to work.

That kind of high-maintenance luxury travel has its charms, doesn't it? On the other hand, though, each of those high-dollar programs is essentially a "rush in, rush out" bus tour dressed up in fancy clothes. Admittedly, those are some very nice buses, and they stop in very nice places, and your travel companions would be very well-heeled. But is that how I'd want to travel, if price and time were eliminated as obstacles? 

Not really.

This is more how I'd like us to travel. First, I'd probably use an agent to find a spacious, furnished home in Chiang Mai -- something that would take advantage of the mountain breezes. A good local chef and a smart local housekeeper would likely be the only staff we'd need -- except, perhaps, for a reliable driver. 

We'd linger there, exploring the temples, enjoying the local restaurants, and generally settling in. After a week or two, we'd look for a similar setup somewhere in Laos. After we felt comfortable there, we'd probably head up to Burma. In every place, the approach would be the same: a reasonable, comfortable house ... a good salary for reliable local helpers ... an emphasis on exploring each location through soaking up the local color, historic sites, and cuisine at a leisurely pace, with our time there dictated by our own sense of when it's time to go (instead of by a pre-defined schedule).

After a month or so in Bangkok visiting Bobby and other old friends, why not go on to New Zealand and take our time exploring the north and south islands on our own, by car? After a week or two with Tony and Marlene at the Eden Park B&B in Auckland, we could set out on our own, making the most of every little village we encountered along the way. And when that loop was done in a month or three, why not head on down to Australia, to get a feel for what it would be like to actually live in Sydney for a month or so ... and to take a trip out to see Uluru in the light of the rising sun?

We've not had much time in Europe during warm weather, so when spring came to the northern hemisphere, it might be nice to revisit some of our favorite destinations (and head out to some new possible favorites in Spain and Italy). The template's the same: get a house. Get a small staff. Enjoy local food. Fly in some friends. Have time to get a feel for a place, to know our way around the neighborhood, to know where to get the best cup of coffee, the best fresh bread, the best candle-lit dinner with the best plate of handmade pasta and fresh vegetables ...

And from there: the world awaits. Free from the constrains of money and schedules, we could go, and do, and be ... and wherever we were, if Clyde were with me, I'd be at home.

For me? That's luxury travel.