The Latest — Steve Block

The Latest

  • The Year is Ending, But Not Winding Down

    I feel overwhelmed. I look at my list of tasks to get done in the week I have before I leave for a two-day workshop and then a long Christmas break, and they seem doable. At least on paper. But every day I feel like the list gets a little longer while I get less done than I hoped.

    I’ve been thinking about this, and the best I can figure is that I’m switching
    priorities and tasks so often, with such short turnarounds, that I’m completely
    exhausted mentally. I can’t focus, so even though I should be able to write
    this wind turbine review in 2–3 hours I work on it all day and it’s half done. I’m in a constant state of near-panic.

    And I desperately need to delegate. I have smart people working with me who would love to help, but I feel like time is so short and I’m in so deep that there’s nothing for it but to get it done myself.

    Growth areas: trust, delegation, coordination, communication.

    I need time off, badly. I have to start saying “no”.

    It’s not the end of the world, but I want the end of the year.

    But on the fun side of things, I got a beer swap started with a friend who also brews. I gave him a four pack, with two of my red ales and two ESBs[1]. I hope he enjoys them.

    After several more weeks in the bottles the red ale has mellowed out quite a bit and is pleasantly drinkable, if unremarkable. I left the ESB in the fermenter quite a bit longer and consequently it has a much smoother flavor, with a nice hop nose from the finishing hops and lots and lots of bitterness. I’m not an expert on the style but I really enjoy the taste. I did screw up the OG[2] (too much liquid) so it is below target at only 4.5% abv, but I’m OK with it.

    I’m thinking about how I might get a few bottles home for Christmas in a checked bag. I’ve done this before, and it’s just a question of careful packing, but there are limits. I almost wish I was driving so I could take a lot more and give it to friends, and then bring back all the beer I can’t buy in Colorado. But 12 hours alone in a car in December is not a great idea. Especially when you have to drive through Omaha.

    I’ve started Christmas shopping, and I think I may end up with a combination of gifts purchased ahead of time and gifts purchased after I get to Iowa, since I have about 6 days between when I arrive and Christmas Eve (our traditional family gift exchange night).

    I should probably get my brother something extra special, since I missed his graduation and he’s about to start a new job.

    — Steve

    1. Extra Special Bitter↩︎
    2. Original Gravity, a measure of the beer’s specific gravity before fermentation. With this and a measure of specific gravity at bottling the alcohol content can be estimated.↩︎

  • Can I Tell You a Story?

    One night I’m sitting at a table near the window in the front of Stomping Grounds…

    And there’s this girl. She’s not my girl but she’s someone’s and she’s so important.

    Maybe an introduction, first. When I was in college Stomping Grounds, formerly a coffee shop and later a cafe, was a common place to find me. I had friends, like Andy and Jess, who worked there. And for a while on a dark night in Ames it felt like the best place to be.

    Some nights I would order tea, some nights coffee, beer, or wine. Some nights we’d sit outside at a table in 40 degree weather drinking wine and talking about god-knows-what. Glorious.

    Some days I would just sit outside for hours, buying the occasional drink and whiling away the time with a book. And in a town the size of Ames it was common to run into people you knew.

    I’d been with Andy through phases with and without girls, none of whom I knew, but I could gage him by his moods. It seemed to me that things were hardly great. Andy worked at Stomping Grounds and he met this girl there. The important one. Lindsey.

    And he was clearly, oh so clearly, smitten by her. Magic.

    I remember how his moods changed after they started dating. How it almost seemed like I had a new friend; a new Andy.

    I remember stories like their late night drive to the middle of nowhere.

    When a friend you care about as much as I care for Andy is this far gone, you start getting curious. At least, I do. She worked at Stomping Grounds too, and I’d met her but never really talked. But I knew who she was and she knew who I was and we chatted; awkward small talk I think.

    But getting back to the night where I started this whole thing. I don’t remember all the details, but one thing stands out clearly to me.

    I was sitting near the window. Lindsey was my waitress, and it was a beer sort of night. I ordered a Young’s Double Chocolate Stout. The one in the purple can. And when this girl brought the can and a glass to my table she popped the top and poured it straight to the bottom of the glass, hard.

    Now for many people and many beers, this is absolute anathema. You simply do not pour a beer that way. But she knew, bless her, that a nitro-charged can was different.

    This girl is a keeper.

    Does this matter? For the beer, yes. For life, I think so. Truly? Cross your heart? Probably not. But it struck me, and the years that have followed have been good ones.

    You guys are special to me.

    — Steve

  • First Photo Walk Without a Camera

    It was another gorgeous day in Colorado.

    During TAGTOBER 2011 I started taking long weekend walks to Cherry Creek State Park, down the road from my apartment. Any trip to the park meant at least a 2 to 3 mile walk, and I found this a very pleasant way to combine finding a picture for TAGTOBER, getting some exercise, and enjoying the wonderful weather and natural beauty Colorado has to offer.

    These photo walks, as I call them, have been one of the best parts of this fall season.

    A tree stump in a still lake

    After Sunday coffee at Einstein Bros this morning, I decided to take another. I had a few podcasts loaded on my iPod, no plans for the day, and it looked like perfect walking weather.

    I headed towards the park, but unlike any previous walk, I didn’t have a camera. Unless you count my iPhone 4S. I decided to.

    It didn’t take too long to get used to the iPhone as a camera. Unlike the original model or the 3GS I had before this, the iPhone 4S takes pictures that are almost good enough.

    I mean, they no longer look like pictures from a camera phone. They look more like pictures from a cheap point & shoot. Not a replacement for my SLR but definitely smaller. And I had it with me.

    I noticed two main things about this method while on my walk, and another back at home going through the photos:

    1. The iPhone 4S gives a photographer much less flexibility and control than a more traditional camera; this applies even if the traditional camera has a fixed lens.
    2. Even so, not wearing a larger, heavier camera is freeing in many ways. There’s no worries about slamming it into something as you scramble over a fallen tree, for example.
    3. The photos taken by this latest model are very good; as I said they are on par with a cheaper point & shoot. But solid fields of blue, like a Colorado sky, have a large amount of noise.

    Image quality from digital cameras is increasing all the time, and I’m still in the market for another relatively large camera for those dedicated photo trips, but going forward if I don’t have my SLR with me I won’t hesitate to pull out my phone instead. And I won’t be thinking about just how much better my pictures could be if only I had a better camera. You can still be creative with this thing, and the results are good enough you won’t feel let down by the hardware.

    Related: iPhone Photo Walk gallery.

    — Steve

  • Thanksgiving Morning Ride

    Me and the bike

    I think this is a good way to start the holiday morning.

    My Trek 610 next to Cherry Creek Reservoir

    It’s nicer out there than it has a right to be.

    — Steve

  • What is this? (new site)

    This is change, but not too much.

    My site, steveblock.com, has been around in one form or another for over a
    decade. For years now it has been running some version of WordPress
    but I think I’m finally sick of trying to keep it up to date.
    Although I’ve managed to avoid any major issues so far, many of my friends
    have been far less fortunate.

    Adding to my distaste for WordPress is a growing dislike of where web
    sites are and where they seem to be heading: multiple sidebars, ads
    everywhere, tiny text, wide paragraphs in a sans-serif font. It’s unreadable!

    So I’ve dumped WordPress, and I’ve built a new, simpler site.

    I think it’s time to dump my old posts as well. I’ll keep an archive around
    somewhere, but they don’t belong here.

    This place is now a work-in-progress, but here’s the first version. I hope to
    keep developing it as time goes on.

    — Steve

  • Choosing Luggage

    Both of my primary pieces of luggage are dying a slow death.

    I have an Eddie Bauer-branded wheeled carry on that is now about 5 years old.
    It’s been all over the place has has been pretty reliable, but the handle is
    getting wobbly, I’ve lost a few zipper pulls, and one of the tie-down clips
    broke. It still works but is showing its age.

    I also have a larger American Tourister bag, which is about as simple as a
    wheeled bag gets. It’s very old (at least 13 years) and is on its way out.
    There are several rips all the way through the fabric now.

    So, two main bags, both dying. With a two-week trip to Iowa planned soon, this
    seemed like an ideal time to do some shopping.

    Phase 1 — Hard Bags / Wheeled Bags

    At first I spent a lot of time on eBags looking at fancy hardsided wheeled
    units. I was looking at the aluminium Rimowa bags, then the Tumi bags,
    and even some of the eBags sets. I went back and forth for a while
    trying to make up my mind, because obviously these beautiful bags were ideal.

    After a while though I started to wonder about that, and branched out to do
    some more research on unwheeled, lightweight duffel style bags.

    Phase 2 — Duffels

    For just a weekend trip in good weather I can actually get by fine with only my
    Timbuk2 messenger bag. I’ve traveled this way for weddings, family
    gatherings, and visits to friends. It’s extremely convenient to have your hands
    free and only one bag to worry about.

    Because of this I was curious about similar bags but sized for longer trips.
    Essentially carry-on sized duffels. A few searches and forum threads later and
    I was reading all the pages on the One Bag travel site.

    Then I went and weighed my current bags. My carry-on weighs 9 lbs. My larger
    bag weighs at least 10. Unwheeled bags from Tom Bihn, Red
    Oxx    , and MEI generally only weighed around 3 lbs. A huge
    difference.

    Decision

    A lot of thought brought me to the conclusion that high quality, relatively lightweight luggage would probably be preferrable to cheaper, heavier bags, even if they had wheels.

    In the end I ordered a Red Oxx Air Boss for a carry-on sized bag,
    and a Red Oxx Safari-Beanos PR6 duffel for a larger bag.

    Build quality (per reviews on several sites) and U.S. manufacturer were both
    big selling points for me.

    I’m pretty sure the carry-on bag will be quite good. My carry-on is rarely over
    25 lbs as is, and 9 of that is the bag itself. 20 pounds on the shoulder
    shouldn’t be too bad. I’m less certain about the PR6 when it is fully loaded.

    I could always pick up a portable luggage cart. There appear to be models out
    there that when paired with these bags would still weigh less than an
    integrated roller bag.

    Maybe this is just a big experiment, but something new is good.

    — Steve

  • Being “That Guy”

    Something struck me today as I was pulling on my riding gear after lunch.

    I really enjoy being that guy.

    Not that guy you hate (that’s a different guy, really!) but that guy you look at and wonder what the hell is wrong with him. The person who does things differently. The hard way. Who stands out just a little bit. Not because my way is better, or I am better, but simply because I take noticable pleasure in not following along. In doing things just because others aren’t. In being different.

    Oh, let’s just say it: I’m contrary.

    Not about everything of course. In many respects I’m probably considered a conformist. And you can always make the argument that any attempt at nonconformity is just conformity to a different norm (hipster, goth, metal). But there are the little things. The stuff that doesn’t matter, except for its own ends. Except in aggregate.

    How about an example?

    The motorcycle

    Of course a lot of people ride, but it takes that special sort of idiot to ride when almost no one else will. I take pride in being that idiot.

    Take today: it’s 35 degrees (F) out there. Barely above freezing. Downright
    chilly, even. But the sun is out and the roads are dry. It’s gorgeous
    and I’m riding. I’m happy. Now on a nice warm day, even this time of year,
    you’ll see people out on their bikes. But on a day like this it’s very, very rare.

    So what do I hear in the elevator? “Isn’t it a little chilly out there?” Why yes it is! Thanks for noticing! Since I bought my bike a few summers ago I’ve ridden it to work every day I could, or at least every day it made sense. I’ve even ridden on days I probably shouldn’t have, because I love it so much.

    And I love being that guy. I get a thrill from being the only bike on the road. I like it when people look at me like I’m crazy. I think at least I’m not sitting in a car like everyone else. It’s not rational, and it’s not sensible, but it feels good.

    And hey, sometimes that’s enough.

    The bicycle

    I just made a big point about riding my motorcycle in any (safe) weather. Now in general cyclists are a lot more hardcore than motorcyclists when it comes to riding year round, so I make no claims there. I ride my bicycle all year as well but in Denver you don’t stand out for that.

    So I make my claim differently when it comes to cycling.

    Go out to the trails any time of year, any time of day around here. You’ll see cyclists everywhere. And they’re mostly riding big name big dollar bikes with ultra skinny tires and no frame clearance for anything else. They have high saddles and low handlebars.

    And they’re wearing the costume.

    No matter the age, no matter the speed, no matter the length of ride, it’s like there’s some weird unwritten code out there. No cycling without the tight pants and jersey!

    That’s the Denver Serious Cyclist uniform: an impractical (though technically spectacular) road bike and padded shorts.

    But I’m that guy. I’m the one going out for a 30 mile ride in cargo shorts and tennis shoes. I’m the one on a 27 year old Trek with chipped paint, high handlebars, a leather saddle, and the fenders that I’m too lazy to take off when the weather’s good. And my tires are fat.

    Now I’ll never claim that my bike is better. But I will claim it is prettier, and I know it is more practical. And anyone who was ever a kid knows that you don’t actually need a fancy, silly, bike and clothes to have a good ride.

    But even that doesn’t matter, because I just enjoy being contrary.

    The little things

    Of course it goes a lot further than just two wheels, but I’m sure this is getting boring.

    I alternate wristwatches between a one-handed german beauty and an iPod Nano. I wore a livestrong band from the moment they were cool until several years after anyone bothered, and only stopped when it broke. I bought an Olympus SLR even though everyone I know bought Canons and Nikons. I don’t wear baseball caps but I do wear my Tilley.

    And culturally it’s similar. I opt out of full body scans at the airport. I don’t watch live television. I never see commercials, and generally avoid advertisements. I don’t know labels or what’s cool. And I like it that way.

    Now maybe I’m just culturing an affectation, but I think I’m sincere about everything I do. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t feel right doing it.

    — Steve

  • Getting the Family Together

    I’m flying to Omaha on Friday afternoon, then driving north towards Sioux City. From there I’ll head east to Le Mars, and check in to a hotel. I’m pretty sure this is the first time that I’ve taken care of all my travel plans for a family get together in Iowa by myself.

    Normally I would fly to Des Moines and get picked up by one of my parents. I’d ride with them to the get together and stay in a hotel room that they had reserved.

    This time I booked a cheap flight to Omaha, reserved a car at the Omaha airport, and booked two nights at the hotel by myself. For a normal trip this is nothing new, especially a work trip, but for a family trip this is fairly new.

    I’m using Kayak to manage my travel plans. It’s great.

    — Steve

  • Mucking with Vim

    This is basic stuff but I am trying to get my Vim setup working right so that I
    get proper line wraps and other usability/viewport niceness when typing
    markdown files in Vim. I think I got it by adding the following commands to my
    Vim syntax/configuration file for Markdown files (mkd.vim):

    set wrap
set linebreak tw=80

    I also forced Vim to notice that screen supports 256 colors:

    set t_Co=256

    Now when I type a markdown file it hard wraps by word at 80 characters, which
    makes the whole thing easier to work with. Additionally, I can actually use
    color schemes that aren’t the default. It’s amazing.

    Yes, soft wraps are “good” but when it comes to plain text they don’t always
    work the way we would really prefer.

    — Steve

  • Merlin on Complaining

    I think there’s a lot of people who would say “you’re never allowed to complain about something unless you have a solution,” and I disagree. I think if you have a really good complaint about something it’s not always your job to have to fix it too. And furthermore, the people who do go out and fix things hate it more than anything else in the world when people think they understand how to fix things.

    — Merlin Mann

    Siracusa’s Corollary[1]

    The ability to understand what’s wrong with something has very little direct correlation with the ability to do a better thing.

    — John Siracusa[2]

    1. Hypercritical Episode #43, The Scorpion and the Frog, Minute 11. Published November 18, 2011.↩︎
    2. John sent me more background on this concept from this Ars Technica post from 2009. It’s a good read.↩︎