Ramblings of a Technology Addict

Wednesday, December 4, 2002

Media Convergence.
The folks at O'Reilly's Mac Dev Center have produced a great article on digital convergence which I think is the heart of the blogging/moblogging crowd. We enjoy sharing things, opinions, craft, products of our own creativity and desire to express ourselves. It's why we're all tinkers and tailors. We write because it's something to think about, something to do.
What I found myself thinking about immediately was the London trip. Tiff and I took about 500 pictures, give or take. at 15 seconds per shot, that's a long video. But if we were to narrow it down to 100 photos, pick up some titles, pick up some tunes and a copy of iDVD and I have a DVD that I can give out to folks. Impressive, yes? Yes. It is. What's better is that I can take those same 100 photos and turn them into a book, a slideshow you can view in QuickTime and a website. All from the same base product, all using free apps.
The ability to share our experiences, our opinions is unprecedented right now. Taking advantage of that by learning about that technology is crucial to being able to communicate effectively.
9:18:53 PM  comment []

28 November, 2002 Location: Copthorne Tara Hotel, Scarsdale Place, Kensington, London, England
What a day it's been. After arriving at Heathrow last night, Tiffany and I made our way to the Heathrow Express Train, spending £13 each to take the train to Paddington Station in London. The train itself was a mix of Metro and Amtrak, with a dosage of the Nature Channel if it were written by Japanese Haiku artists. We arrived at a very picturesque Paddington at about half ten in the evening. The image was one that I could not capture on camera, despite my best efforts. The dark, foggy station and the strict, etched lines in wrought iron in the station made for quite a bit of fun on our arrival.
Hopping a District Line Tube Train, we were off to the hotel. The Tube deposited us on Kensington High Street, a striking byway of shops and restaurants. We walked the three blocks to the Copthorne Tara Hotel and checked in. Our room is small, but nice, and serves us well. We went up Wright Street to the Thai Terrace for some really good Pad Khee Mao and some rest. Afterwards, we went for a short walk up Kensington High Street to the Westminster line and back.
This morning, we got up late and had a light breakfast over at the Muffin Man before getting Photocards and Travelcards for the Tube and heading into Westminster proper. Arriving below Big Ben and right on the Victoria Embankment was an experience I'll never forget. Climbing those stairs, being immersed in a history that dates back several thousand years where my country has, at best, several hundred years, it's such an amazing experience.
We walked over Westminster Bridge amongst tourists and pigeons in the sunshine and snapped a few pictures. We were asked by a young couple from Georgia to take their picture with Parliament in the background, and obliged them, and in turn, they snapped a good photo of Tiff and me in the same location. We walked up past the British Airways London Eye and up to the footbridges that spanned the Thames. Walking up past Charing Cross station and into Trafalgar Square we went, snapping some photos along the way. Nelson's Column greeted us there and we walked down Whitehall in search of a bank machine and lunch.
Stopping in the Parliament Bookshop, I picked up a copy of the report dated for yesterday from the House of Lords and a walking tour of London. Next we walked across Parliament Square to Westminster Abbey and to Methodist Hall for a spot of lunch and a brief break from the walking. Queuing up after lunch at the House of Commons, as the Prime Minister would not be answering questions in Lords as we expected, we entered Westminster Palace at St. Stephen's Gate. We were rather disappointed to learn that Photography was prohibited in the Palace, and so our cameras stayed put in our bag, but had we had our drothers, we might have taken shots of the friezes in the hallway leading to the Visitors' Lobby, as well the mosaics of St. Patrick, St. Stephen, St. George, and others. We filled out a small card that said we would behave in the chamber, and off we were. We grabbed a seat and tuned in to the debate on the floor.
The House of Commons was debating senior care on the floor. As I had to surrender my bag, I have no detailed notes of what went on within the chamber. However, I can attest to the fact that the House wasn't close to filled, with only about 50-60 MPs present for the debate. The room itself was much as I suspected. Its wooden ceiling was more detailed than I could have imagined. The debate itself was rather droll, with much more wit and sarcasm, and oddly enough, intellect, than I would have expected in a floor session in the House of Representatives in DC. The constant interruptions for questions were a plus, it kept the MP on the spot and engaged in the debate. While he did have prepared remarks, he often had to abandon their structure to handle questions about the legislation on the table. I'm not sure Gephardt or Hastert could those questions with the same aplomb.
On our way out, we took some time to walk through the great hall on the front half of the building. We stood where Sir William Wallace was condemned to death 700 years ago. We stood where Queen Elizabeth I reigned and held court 500 years ago. We stood where King Charles I was handed down a death sentence 375 years ago. We stood where his son King Charles II was oft known to hold court 325 years ago. We stood where Winston Churchill lay in state. All this in a space built close to 1000 years ago, with the largest all-wooden roof in Northern Europe, laid down about 600 years ago. You can feel the enormity of the hall, and its ancientness, it flows over you like a cool wave. The people that have stood there, their importance. Decisions that were made in that hall have resonated throughout history and for a while it was the seat of power in the realm upon which the sun did not set.
Heading back up Whitehall, we snapped a couple shots of the entrance to Downing St, Number 11 of which is the official residence of Tony Blair. We caught the end of the day for the Queen's Life Guard, known as the Horse Guard. Their inspection at 1600 which marks the end of their day is detailed and ceremonious and also the same as it was in 1726 when the building they now inhabit was constructed. Toward the end of the ceremony it began to rain, and Tiff and I walked up Whitehall in the rain toward Trafalgar Square and our sanctuary, Saint Martin-in-the-Fields. We had the chance to listen a rehearsal of an Oboe Concerto being performed the following night. After some absolutely divine music, we wandered downstairs to the Crypt Café and a brass rubbing center. I took up a Gryphon and made a small work of art to hang in my apartment.
We then made our way to Charing Cross' Tube Station and headed to Saint Paul's. After a bit of confusion at the top of the Stairs, we found St. Paul's through the murky sky. Circling around it, we took some pictures and then found a place by Blackfriars for dinner. We had some good sandwiches, and I had a pint of real Bass Ale, at a pub across from the Mermaid Theatre then trudged back to the hotel, exhausted.
6:35:17 PM  comment []

Due to the migration of Radio from my old tower to this new and wonderful Titanium Powerbook, my old entries are all unavailable. Worse, I think they're gone. But that's okay, I'm moving on. I have to reassemble things and get the template fixed, but I think that should do the trick?
3:03:03 PM  comment []

Travelogue London
27 November 2002 Location: Somewhere over the North Atlantic
After what could only be determined as a brutal violation of the Geneva Convention's Rules on Wake-up Calls, getting out of the house this morning was a piece of cake. Dave was kind enough to drive us out to Dulles at the inhuman hour of 0530 so that we could make the two and a half hours that the airlines recommend for international check-in, The drive to Dulles was peaceful, as most of the traffic was trudging into the city, we were headed out to the 'burbs to the airport.
Dulles wasn't very crowded this morning, and the check-in line was hardly much of an obstacle. The only trouble was actually finding someone who could check us on to the flight and hand us our boarding passes. As if by magic, at 0615, there was four uniformed agents of British Airways at the counter, where, some five minutes before, stood none. The line moved quickly and soon enough we had boarding passes marked 37K and 37J. Off to the gates.
Since the Transportation Safety Agency took over the checkpoints, there's not been a lot of media coverage over how long the lines are, or how fast they run you through the X-Ray machines and metal detectors. Used to be, the employees at airport security were at best, indifferent to your presence, let alone concerned about the contents of your bag. The TSA is quite different. They were polite, expedient and looked at all of our stuff with a great deal of scrutiny. They were always quick to smile, but not obsequious about it, which makes for a rather nice combination of professionalism and courtesy. We were on the airplane side of the detecting equipment at 0622. Nice and speedy.
I will not bore you with details of sitting in the terminal. Dulles is a quiet and boring place. However, let's instead move on to the jet. A Boeing 777. Brand spanking new within the past 5 years or so. Let me also make one more thing clear: The British understand what it is to fly with class. First class could only be considered palantial. The seats have wood panelling and only come four to a row. Good God man. This is a wide-body aircraft! On 737s they come four to a row in first class. Anyhow. Next came the World Class section which have seats that recline, you guessed it, fully 180 degrees to make a nice little bed for you. Thinner than a full size bad, but longer than I am tall, the World Class section is the way to go. In addition, a tray-table, television monitor and a few movies await you. World Traveller Plus is the Economy Plus option and gives you substantially more legroom, not to mention bum room. Then comes us. Steerage, pretty much. Your basic airline seat that is meant for someone far shorter than I and with legs that are not quite as long in the thigh as mine. While granted, this aircraft is still nicer than any of the Delta or United fleets I've had the pleasure of travelling on in the past 10 years. 9 seats across, Tiff and I reside on the right half of the aircraft, ostensibly in the window and middle seats. However, due to a jackass who felt that from take off, his seat needed to occupy my lap, I moved to the aisle, where there was no one in front of me, nor anyone behind.
Okay, British Airways is also pretty clever in its seat design. You've got a good recline, a cup holder separate of the main tray-table (though mine is conspicuously absent), a four inch LCD screen encased in the headrest of the seat in front of you and a whole mobile commander type unit in the left armrest. I would probably not be writing this, however, if it worked since my commander unit has its power cord brutally sliced. Oh well. For the flight home.
After a full english breakfast, I managed to catch two hour nap, which brings us to the present locaton, somewhere east of Halifax and St. John in the middle of North Atlantic Oceans. There's cloudcover at the moment, and we're hopping along at 600+ miles per hour with a 70 mile a hour tail wind, due to land at roughly 2025, a full half hour ahead of schedule. Nice.
1:50:19 PM  comment []