Posts from 2007

Spending a lot of time in airports is an occupational hazard in the glamorous and fast moving world of IT consultancy. Most of us are intimate with the various methods of tuning Oracle databases and Siebel CRM but here are some quick tips about optimising the airport experience.

1. Most airlines have succeeded in shifting the massive queues from the check-in desks to smaller queues at the self-service kiosks. The most obvious method to avoid this is to check-in online and print out your own boarding pass from the comfort of the office. One word of caution - ensure you have the hardcopy of the boarding pass in your hands before leaving the Web page. If, for any reason, printing is unsuccessful, it is impossible to check-in online a second time to print the page again. It is a little embarrassing to explain to the customer service agent that an unknown pre-sales guy mistakenly took your boarding pass as it was sandwiched between his 89 page RFC. Worse, it also wastes a lot of time.
2. Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to attach your own luggage labels thinking this will save time. The baggage label must be coiled in a loop Origami-style and stuck together in a very specific way. Please, I urge you, leave this to the experts at the Fast Bag Drop desk.
3. Look nervously at your shoes and repeatedly wipe your sweaty brow in the queue for security screening. This behaviour guarantees that you will be 'randomly selected' by BAA security staff to go through the new full body scanner. Don't worry when other passengers start giggling as you are asked to raise both arms and stand on one leg to assume a star shape. Revenge will be sweet when you are re-introduced at the head of the queue in front of the X-ray machine, skipping 23 people and saving a vital 17 minutes.
4. In the current climate, passengers are increasingly asked to remove their belts and shoes as part of security checks. Save time by investing in a pair of black, leather slip-ons. No need to waste time struggling to tie up your shoe laces. Consider buying some tighter trousers that don't need a belt.
5. Always select a seat at the back of the plane. Do not think you will disembark quicker if you are located near the front of the aircraft. You won't. Everyone else thinks the same way so the most determined, forceful personalities will always be seated in rows 1-18. You also risk being struck by an oversized case (that should have gone into the hold) from the overhead lockers. Worse, your brain will be irradiated by the hordes of business types eagerly turning their mobile phones back on after being incommunicado for a whole 55 minutes.
6. Make a date with Iris. In the UK, you can register to trial the optical recognition system at immigration. Watch your colleagues from Consulting gasp in amazement as you leave them behind in a lengthy queue as you waltz up to the empty Iris desk and quickly make your way out of the terminal.
7. Use a professional, competent taxi company and arrange to be collected at the airport. This may seem blindingly obvious but for reasons that now escape me, for a period, I used a completely incompetent taxi firm who were always late for the rendezvous, didn't have the right change for the car-park and couldn't even find my home address. The final straw came when they woke my family, in the middle of the night, by ringing my door bell at 05:45 for a 06:00 pickup.
8. The ever increasing capacity and falling prices of USB memory sticks now make it possible to think the unthinkable. Leave your laptop behind. Copy your mini-technical library onto a memory stick. I have done this on a couple of domestic engagements and it is truly liberating. My dodgy, aching back is also feeling the benefit. You can normally access SupportWeb, MetaLink and collect email from most customer sites.

One advantage of being severed from the laptop is that it really focuses the mind on what technical material is truly essential to do your job. Consequently, you incrementally build up relevant content on the stick. It is also perfectly feasible to copy all your email folders onto a memory stick. The only element I have occasionally missed is my own Siebel 7.8/Oracle 10g sandbox environment. Have a good trip.

[An edited version of this article was originally published in the Spring 2007 edition of the Expert Services' Newsletter where, unsurprisingly, it was met with a stony silence.]

Just installed the Lightning extension which provides an embedded calendar (Sunbird) within Thunderbird.

This is made even more useful by the addition of the Provider for Google Calendar add-on that enables seamless, two way synchronisation between Google Calendar and Thunderbird.

When I went to bed, I closed the curtains. Unfortunately even at full stretch, the curtains only spanned half the width of the window. This was excellent news as I was able to cancel my 07:30 wake-up call as the morning sun streaming into the room at 05:45 was just as effective.

The shower worked although it was a little tardy to empty. So slow, I thought I was going to have a minor flood on my hands but fortunately the sill was pretty deep and disaster was narrowly avoided.

Breakfast was disappointingly adequate - cereals, bread, cheese, ham, fruit coffee and tea. The churn labelled 'Milk' was empty so I took my chances on an adjacent, unlabelled silver vessel. Consequently, I drenched my Frosties in natural yoghurt which was an unusual combination but a pleasant change.

There was also a strange fruit juice which was a hybrid of mango and orange. Similar to what is called cheap 'Orange Drink' in England; neither fresh orange juice nor orange squash and tasting rather artificial and very sickly.

After breakfast, I decided it would be prudent to double-check on the availability of the presidential suite in 406 just to ensure that Carol Smiley, 'Handy Andy' and Laurence Llewlyn-Bowen had finished building walk-in wardrobes from MDF and covering the bed in dark red, Gothic materials.

Slowly and carefully, I explained the situation and the pretty receptionist duly confirmed 'Yes. Mr. Anderson. I have you booked into room 406 for 4 nights.'

I immediately crossed over to the Hilton, heaved a huge sigh of relief as the desk told me they had some availability and booked in for two nights. I crossed back over the road and checked out of Grand Central 2 days early, claiming my Grandmother had just died and I had to return to England immediately.

The nightmare was finally over. Only it wasn't. The young lady on reception was a new-hire and couldn't process my booking (or cancellation) using my credit card. Finally, with the unconvincing words 'OK. I have read the big book and I think I have done it now', I left, thankful to make my escape.

I am now installed in the Hilton which is bland and very overpriced but it's like going into Macdonalds, you know exactly what you are going to get.

Pity really as the Dutch version of 'Flowery Twats' would undoubtedly have provided a wealth of valuable blogging material for the next 48 hours.

Arrived in Rotterdam and checked into the Grand Hotel which isnt quite as grand as the inviting and expensive (but fully booked) Hilton across the road.

The kind lady on reception welcomes me to Rotterdam, quickly locates my booking, gives me an electronic key and directs me to room 401.

I take the lift to the fourth floor. There is no room 401 - just 403-417. I know because I walked all around the fourth floor with my bags. Twice.

Convinced I am an idiot, I ask two decorators where room 401 is hidden. One of them puts down his roller and accompanies me around the fourth floor with me before concluding there is indeed no room 401.

Thinking I must have misheard the receptionist, we try to force entry to rooms 407 and 411. The startled honeymooning couple in 407 thought it was a drugs raid and were very cross. The decorator helpfully offers to paint their bathroom as compensation and I claim to be part of the International Tulip Delegation who got separated from his party.

I deposit my bags with my new found friends, the decorators (must include that piece of good news in my review) and return to reception. Either the lady was mistaken or the stupid Englishman misheard and so it transpires. The correct room number was in fact 406 all along. Silly me.

I return to the fourth floor and look for room 406. I walk the familiar circuit of the fourth floor wondering where I will finally end up. Only I don't have to wonder. Deep in my heart, I already know.

Sure enough, I find room 406. Unusually for a hotel, the door is already open and curiously, the bed is positioned in the middle of the room. There are two familiar bags (a stylish black Samonsite hold-all and a battered laptop case) sitting on the floor. And, inevitably, there are two decorators feverishly applying white paint to the walls.

They look perplexed, I admire their work and we all laugh. We return to reception. Thankfully, there are a couple of spare rooms so I get re-allocated to room 116 and have the option to take room 406 tomorrow (if the paint fumes have fully dissipated).

When my daughter went to secondary school, like every other dutiful parent, we religiously completed all the necessary forms and paperwork.

As part of this, I must have divulged my mobile phone number. Now this must have been intended for emergency use only because I don't divulge my mobile number (07723 431768) lightly.

So, imagine my surprise when I received the following text message yesterday:

'This is Hogwarts Girls' School. This is a reminder that Autumn Term starts on Wednesday 5th September at 8:40am. Hope you had a good summer. Thank you.'

I was gratified to see the correct positioning of the apostrophe and replied:

'Many thanks for your recent text message. I was so busy enjoying my summer holidays that I had completely forgotten the fact I attended school so your reminder was very timely. I am sure my mum probably would have reminded me at some point because she is so annoying like that. Rest assured I have purchased a brand new compass and protractor set for the challenges in the coming year. However, thus far, I have resisted my mum's overtures to buy a new skirt that conforms to the new 'Length Guidelines' published in May 2007.

CU L8TR M8. Norma-Jean Brightside (aged 14 3/4)'.

I travel quite a lot. I usually stay in decent hotels. I am fairly easy to please. All I really need on my short visits is a clean bed and a shower.

However, most of the hotels in Rotterdam (including the one I stayed in last week where I could stroll down to the client offices - my idea of nirvana) are fully booked for reasons that are unclear.

I have a feeling that there may be a major tulip festival taking place. Either that or it is because (for reasons outside my control) I am being forced to book at 24 hours notice.

In any event, after hours of hunting for a hotel room without success, I asked the client for assistance and am pleased to announce that I now have a confirmed booking for three nights at the Grand Hotel Central in central Rotterdam.

Then I just happened to read some reviews on this establishment and I am really starting to wish I hadn't.

Steve has an admirable habit of titling (almost) all of his posts with a line from a song.

Just went to the post office. I was in luck. Just one lady, with a baby in a pushchair, posting a small parcel. Or so I thought.

'First class, please'

'That's £2.57 please'.

'Oh - hang on. Do you think I should send this recorded ?'

[ She didn't ask what benefits recorded delivery offered versus registered or plain first class. Even more odd was the postmaster's reply ]

'Yes. I think you should.'

[ without asking about the contents of the parcel or outlining what recorded delivery offers ]

'Yes. That will be £3.74 for recorded'

Delay as he prints out the necessary orange labels

Delay as the lady takes an eon to complete the necessary labels.

Delay as the lady dutifully sticks the labels on the small parcel.

Delay as the lady coos to the baby 'There - that's all our jobs done. Isn't that good ? All our jobs are done. Haven't we both done well ?' Well, yours might be but I am still waiting.

Further delay as the lady unbelievably plucks out a debit card to pay the massive sum of £3.74.

Coincidentally, I am posting two parcels abroad but resist the temptation to ask

'Hmm. Do you think I should send these recorded ?'

After all my jobs are complete (didn't I do well) in the Post Office, I need some cash as I was perilously close to annoying the eight people behind me in the queue by paying by debit card for a transaction totalling £7.68.

And so to the cashpoint. Again, I am in luck. Just one gentleman ahead of me. Or so I thought.

He completes his transaction, withdraws his card so I make my advance. I nearly bump into him as he submits his card again for another transaction. He must be checking his balance.

Again, he finally completes this transaction and I nearly walk into him as he pauses and initiates a third (well three that I have witnessed) transaction.

Finally, after what seems an eternity he turns and walks away. I catch his eye because I am wondering whether the machine has run out of cash but no. Unbelievably, he mutters

'Nope. Doesn't want to give me any cash today. I'll have to try again later.'

5 seconds later, I have successfully withdrawn £100 so the gentleman was either overdrawn and polling every 30 seconds to see whether additional funds might have miraculously cleared or he was a complete idiot.

Back in the old days, things were very simple. You filmed endless hours of footage with your analog camcorder; your summer holidays, opening Christmas presents around the tree, your child's first steps and birthday parties.

Then, the night before you set out on your next summer holiday, the wife utters words that strike fear into the very heart of your soul:

'Charge the camcorder batteries and have you transferred all the tapes to video so we can re-use them ?'

Of course, you haven't. So while everyone else slumbers, you untangle the wire spaghetti and transfer six hours of tedious footage spanning 364 days that no-one will ever watch. Worse, to prove you did a proper job, the wife has included crafty snippets of footage of grey cloudy skies, the inside of the camcorder case and an inadvertent curse. Of course, she has done this deliberately to ensure you locate and edit these mistakes out of the directors cut presented for her final rigorous QA review. This task involves skillful dexterity with both hands on the play/record and pause buttons on the video and the camcorder and prolongs the agony.

Eventually, you decide there must be a better way and this is to embrace the digital age so you buy a digital camcorder.

Excited and eager to play with the technology, you make a short, 72 minute film, alone in your bedroom.

You unwrap all the wires, connect them to the computer only to discover you need something called a Firewire card. Your interest wanes and you tell the wife you 'need a part and I haven't got one in the van so it will be 6 weeks'.

Weeks later, and much to your surprise, you successfully install the Firewire card needed for video capture.

Finally, you can transfer the footage to the PC. Sony helpfully include software (curiously named 'Picture Motion Browser') to perform the transfer. Staggeringly, you can even rewind, play and fast forward the camcorder from your computer.

Amazingly, you transfer your alternative film which traces the life of a pair of socks from the drawer, through a full day worn on a pair of feet and finally into the wash basket.

You proudly gather the family to review this stupendous and life changing event. Feedback is mixed; 'Is that it ?' and tantalisingly 'Can't you edit out the 32 seconds of the ceiling ?'.

Of course, you can edit the footage. You are a master of the digital age. You are a budding film director. You quickly remove the spurious footage from the final cut. Only you can't because the Sony bundled software doesn't support video editing. You have to shell out £50 for a separate product called Sony Vegas.

Alternatively, you can use Windows Movie Maker (freely available with Windows) which is capable of importing the AVI files and actually editing clips. Even better, you can add opening titles, closing credits and an impressive fade effect as the socks are tossed into the wash basket.

Your life is complete. You turn the computer off and forget all about digital video technology.

Until 8 weeks later, when you are going to visit the in-laws and the wife says:

'My mum and dad would like to see the DVD of our holidays and that alternative film you make about a pair of socks.'

No problem. You simply turn the computer on, open the project and click 'Burn to DVD'.

Only you can't. Your computer doesn't have a DVD burner. No problem. You share the files to another computer and hit 'Burn to DVD'.

Only you can't. Windows Movie Maker can't create DVD's.

No problem. The computer happens to have a trial version of Video Studio installed so you simply save the Movie Maker film as a new, large AVI file, import it, and click 'Burn to DVD'.

Only you can't. There isn't enough disk space.

You count to 10. 10 times. Then, in a fit of pique and a last desperate effort to preserve your sanity, you spontaneously splash out on an external hard disk drive with half a terabyte of storage dedicated to digital video data and a DVD writer.

The Freecom drive simply plugs into a USB port, has a separate power supply and works out of the box. No need to read the non-existent instructions. Oddly, the drive is formatted as FAT32 so you perform a quick format to NTFS and start copying files. Happily, the drive is quick and more importantly quiet.

Similarly, the LG DVD writer also plugs into another USB port and has a separate power supply. The drive includes a copy of Nero Express so you can finally burn the godforsaken video footage to DVD.

Finally, the holiday footage is edited, trimmed with effects and titles. There is even a top level menu including Chapters, humorous out takes, interviews, biographies, versions in French, German and Italian and an 'Extras' disc.

You are delighted and even though you say it yourself, quite proud of your achievements in the past 3 weeks. You go downstairs to share the glad tidings and sit down with a bucket of popcorn and a gallon of Coca-Cola to enjoy the DVD with the family.

It is unusually quiet and there is a note on the kitchen table

Couldn't wait any longer.
Gone to Crete.
Back in 2 weeks.
Hoover upstairs, mow the lawn and wash the pots.
Window cleaner on Wednesday.

One of the reasons I decided to put Adsense on this blog was out of sheer curiosity. There are plenty of Google sponsored case studies available from American shoe shops that significantly increased sales and revenues using Adsense.

Successful blogger John Chow is totally and refreshingly transparent with all his various revenue streams but I didn't have a clue what income (if any) a small-time blogger might expect.

So, here - drum roll, please - are the revenue figures for this blog for the first 3 months

• July - $8.31
• August -$8.33
• September - $8.77

Not a massive amount but certainly more than I expected and enough to cover my hosting costs with Bluehost. This is from a blog with around 100 daily visitors (mainly one-hit wonders from Google). I used a simple wide banner (Leaderboard) with 3/4 adverts and blended the background into the theme. Initially the banner was on the footer but after a few days, I moved the ad to the header section ('above the fold').

What is quite interesting is that, for various reasons, I hardly posted to the blog in August (5 posts versus 25 and 23 in July and June respectively) yet the revenue (if you can call it that) was consistent for each month. Also, the trend is upwards for each month - just !

I briefly experimented with a 'Adsense for Search' box but it didn't integrate well with my current theme (plaintxtBlog) so I abandoned it.

Another fun element was watching the Google AdServer try to present suitable adverts based on my content. Because I don't really signpost things with flashing lights, at times Google displayed a fairly bizarre and esoteric mix of (in)appropriate banner ads.

Some more facts and figures:

• Most clicks in a day: 4
• Most lucrative click: $1.64
• Least lucrative click: $0.01 (yes, 1 cent)
• Best day: 5 June 2007 ($2.16)
• Worst day: $0.00 (too many to mention)

Morwenna Banks, who plays Vicky in Saxondale, is superb. While she gets some of the best lines in the comedy series, co-written by Steve Coogan like

'Tell him to put some jam on his shoes and invite his trousers down for tea.'

...her delivery and timing is absolutely brilliant.