WTF Is Pinterest?

Written on January 23, 2012 by Greg Spies

social

I believe it was my business partner Jessica who first said the word Pinterest out loud. I asked what she was referring to and I was shown this odd website that looked like a mix between an ad agency’s mood wall and some gal’s “vision board”.  I joked that I hadn’t heard of Pinterest, but that I expected the rule of threes to apply, and that I would probably hear of it again two more times over the next week.  I greatly underestimated its popularity…

I started seeing posts about Pinterest on Facebook almost immediately (or perhaps I finally noticed them).  Then there was an article about “the power of Pinterest” and how this was the next big thing businesses needed to be aware of.  It wasn’t until my sister Katie, a once-a-week at most Facebook updater, mentioned it was her latest obsession that I knew something was going on.  I decided it was time to sign-up.  I created a login, hooked it to my Facebook account, and very quickly realized this was the biggest secret in female social media ever. Pinterest is apparently the Mark Ruffalo of websites – an obsession with the ladies, that male audiences haven’t even heard of. Within a week of signing up, several female friends were following me, and I hadn’t even made a single post. Finally on Saturday I sat down and “pinned” some things. I created a board of places I’d like to visit, and grabbed a few photos from the web. The system was super easy to use. Immediately after I made those posts, I received notification that Emma Earl, Michelle Huyck, Natalie Baker and Jill Foster dug my pins.  I have no idea who they are – but I can’t remember the last time I did something online and four gals I’ve never met took interest.

Then today, my client Vanillawood asked how we can integrate Pinterest into their website.  It’s official – Pitnerest is a big deal. Launched in March of 2010, Pinterest had a quiet rise in popularity, but by December of last year, was averaging more than 10 million visitors a week, up nearly 40 times its rankings a mere six months earlier.  According to their stats, 58% of members are women (although it sure doesn’t seem that way to me).

At the end of the day, Pinterest might not be for me. While I do think visually, I tend to want more “info” than pictures and I’m not sure I’ll keep taking the time to save photos, rather than bookmarks.  However, I can certainly understand why it’s so popular amongst my designer friends who create collections of “styles” they enjoy.  It’s really a great way to collect inspiration on a design project – or in my case, reminders of all the beautiful places I’ve yet to visit. By connecting into Facebook’s Social Graph, it then connects your boards to your friends, allowing them to LIKE or RE-PIN various images.

Pinterest is only one of numerous websites with mobile applications that are leading the way in what I’m pretty certain will be the biggest online trend in 2012 – the extraction of your online social interaction from Facebook – to 3rd party tools that connect to Facebook’s Social Graph.  This will not only massively improve  the types of social interactions we can have, but might be the saving grace that returns Facebook to a useful tool in the first place.

Facebook was nice and easy in the early days. I had a couple dozen friends – all generally my age – and folks who I spent a pretty regular amount of time with offline as well.  As Facebook grew, new waves of “friends” began showing up – and before long I had made over 200 connections with friends, high school classmates, colleagues, cousins, parents of friends, friends of my parents – just about everyone I’d ever spoken to, and some I’m not sure I ever did.  What’s worse, I became bombarded by their hobbies – both good and bad.  Between Farmville updates, WordsWithFriends Requests, spiritual/motivation graphics, baby photos and relationship status updates – Facebook became less a place to “stay connected” and more like a voyeuristic nightmare.  I was reminded of being told as a child that in heaven, everyone you ever knew was there – and thinking to myself “how annoying”.  What’s worse, I became very self-conscious about what I was saying and posting.  A political rant or drunken post would suddenly touch dozens of folks with zero context to the statement, and with likely varying opinions I had no desire to attack or confront.  I began making less posts, stopped discussing politics, and tried to stop following the streams of the majority of my list, so I could focus again on those I actually wanted to.  And I wasn’t alone.  I consistently heard the groans of dislike from friends, online and off – about how Facebook was becoming too overloaded with crap. Many spoke of the demise of Facebook… that it would collapse upon itself, millions of members and all.

What’s happened instead though is a far greater solution than loosing all the connections that Facebook miraculously created – or hoping to recreate them on another platform – a digital mass-migration. Combined with the knowledge that almost everyone is walking around with a state-of-the-art phone in their pockets, this new wave of applications is allowing folks to connect with various groupings of their friends, for specific purposes.

Spotify allows me to share music and playlists with friends.  Upon connecting to the Social Graph, I can see what friends from Facebook are already on Spotify, and select the ones I’d like to follow.  It was cool learning the musical tastes of a few folks I was friends with but hadn’t previously discussed music with.  Folks can follow my lists too – but I don’t have to post on Facebook every time I like a song, nor be bombarded with updates from friends whom I don’t happen to share the same musical taste with – music interactions are kept within Spotify. Whereas MySpace had a solid music platform, Facebook has never been a great resource for sharing music – now tools like Spotify, Pandora and Rdio concentrate on solid music experiences, while leaving the social connections to Facebook.

Instagram is another such model – only focused instead on photography.  All photos get posted to Instagram, and friends from your Social Graph who’ve opted to follow you will see your pictures in their Instagram stream.  Not only does it have a more robust photography tool than Facebook, the iPhone application lets you post your photos to Facebook, Twitter, Flickr or more, right from the application. So if from time to time you wish to share with a larger audience, it’s easy. I’ve also used Path which has some potential as a social app for photos, although it doesn’t have as cool of included filters as Instagram.

Beerby is another app I’ve been playing with that lets you record the various types of beer you drink – and give them a rating.  While I certainly wouldn’t want a running list of what and where I’ve been drinking to be posted on Facebook – an app that lets me and a few of my microbrew enthusiast buddies compare our conquests is a fun tool.  Again – the iPhone app makes it easy to log info while at the bar, and by plugging into the Social Graph I can easily find friends, because Facebook has already connected us. I don’t need to send invites asking folks to sign-up to Beerby – if they’re interested and have the app, we can just connect.

It’s obvious we’re going to start seeing a ton more of these types of websites/applications in the marketplace – and solid competitors to some of the popular versions already out there.  I can think of several “niche” groups I have in my life that a tool like this would be great for – including discussing politics, web development resources, blog aggregator (pull in friend’s blogs) – not to mention plugging in websites and applications I already enjoy into the Social Graph, to allow me to share content with friends.  If you currently use any apps that accomplish these tasks that you enjoy – drop me a line.

I remember about six years or so ago, I was asked to sit in on a pitch meeting, to hear an idea about a new website and give my feedback.  A bunch of men (I was probably the youngest in the room) presented and then discussed this idea for a website aimed primarily at girls who like to journal.  It was in the early days of social media, where folks still thought Facebook could be taken out, and any idea that included a website, “friends” and the potential to monetize had a cadré of angel investors fighting to throw money at it.  The only thing I remember from the talk was how sterile everything felt. This was market-research applied to a traditionally private experience – a corporate solution for a non-existant problem.  Just the thought of having advertising banners served-up based on keywords in your personal thoughts seemed beyond invasive.  They had money though – and one way or another this was going to get built. I don’t think anyone in the room “journaled”… nor would any of them ever expect to use the tool themselves.  They just thought it was a marketable idea to someone else.

What’s happening now is that the barrier to entry has been almost completely removed – and smaller shops run by enthusiasts are now able to create online experiences that serve to improve their own passions.  Rather than hoping Facebook improves its features, we’re learning to use Facebook less. By plugging into Facebook’s Social Graph, so many of the obstacles for creating an online community are eliminated.  The development costs alone to create a customer database, logins, friend connections and secure it all – would be a massive undertaking.  I walked several wide-eyed potential customers through those expenses over the years as they presented their unfunded million-dollar ideas.  Now your efforts can be entirely focused on your product – creating a great tool.  If the good folks at Beerby had approached me to build their app, my concern wouldn’t have been the beer database, or the review system… it would have been the social media integration, login system, and plugging into Facebook somehow to make posts.  With much of those concerns now eliminated, I could have focused on making a great beer app. Plus, the days of having seven dozen logins might finally be coming to an end.  One ring to rule them all.

As for Pinterest, I’m going to continue to keep playing around with it some – and I’m excited to integrate it into a client’s website – seems like a perfect tool for them – as well as all other graphic/interior designers who want to be able to discuss “styles” with clients. Or in the case of my sister Katie, a great place to discover fun craft projects and photography ideas – a place to be creative. The challenge this year will not be managing my Facebook wall, but keeping up with all the great apps to share my hobbies and interests on.  And with all the noise turned down, and organized properly, I might just learn some interesting things about these “friends” of mine.

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50 Goals For The First Quarter 2012

Written on January 2, 2012 by Greg Spies

sunset

A new year means it’s time for new goals – or more importantly, a new goals project! Those who read my blog regularly will recall that last year, inspired by a friend who set out to perform 100 goals in 100 days, I began a project to complete 50 goals in the first quarter. The experiment was not only successful, but a lot of fun – and a lot of the effort put forth on last year’s 50 goals ended up having a pretty profound effect on the year as a whole.

This year my goals are just as random, and just as “off the top of my head” as last year. They range from changes in behavior, to tasks I’ve wanted to take care of but keep putting off. It should give me a lot to do these next three months – which since it’s the rainy, cold and dark time of the year out here in Portland, I’ve got nothing better to do. I recommend you do the same!

50 Goals For The First Quarter: (green = completed)

  1. Write a blog post every week (monday)
  2. Cook eggs benedict from scratch
  3. Work-out 3 days a week
  4. Get a massage
  5. Join/Start a monthly book club
  6. Take a photo every day (Instagram)
  7. Loose 20 pounds
  8. Limit bars/restaurants to friday and saturday
  9. Write out first draft of “East”
  10. Be able to do 100 push-ups
  11. Take a yoga class
  12. Go out to 3 shows of bands I don’t know
  13. Produce large-scale photo for the bedroom wall
  14. Ask two gals on dates
  15. Create barbacoa tacos from scratch (including tortillas)
  16. Cook roast-chicken dinner, stuffing, potatoes, etc.
  17. Go on 5 hikes
  18. Spend a day/night in a new town/city
  19. Do apartment cleanse – books, clothes, video games, etc.
  20. Go out to 3 new restaurants
  21. Meditate daily
  22. Create schedule for week, and review it daily
  23. Pay for all non-business items in cash only
  24. Get laid
  25. Create really good pizza at home from scratch
  26. Visit dentist for check-up
  27. Take math course online for free at MIT
  28. Sketch something weekly
  29. Watch 5 South American films
  30. Streamline and secure all social media & online memberships
  31. Fix both guitars
  32. Put $500 a month in savings
  33. Create Business Catalyst YouTube channel
  34. Devise budget and use Mint.com to manage
  35. Create simple iPhone App
  36. Achieve 10 business goals
  37. Purchase buttons and fix coat
  38. Learn 5 songs on guitar
  39. Research online spanish classes and start taking them
  40. Learn how to use all settings on Nikon camera
  41. Get mom’s recipe for meatballs and cook
  42. Make a delicious cappuccino
  43. Get clean bill of health from doctor
  44. Host “get-together” at my apartment
  45. Plant herb garden
  46. Acquire slow-cooker and cook pot-roast
  47. Get T-Shirt store running on stand-alone URL
  48. Have coffee/lunch with 3 peers
  49. Attend 3 non-business related events/presentations
  50. Inspire 3 people to create goal lists
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In Time, More Or Less.

Written on November 6, 2011 by Greg Spies

time

Last night marked the end of daylights savings time, and as such, our clocks were moved back one hour. When I was a kid, I recall quite a bit of effort taking place to make this happen, as my parents would have to manually change each clock in the house by hand. I can remember sitting in public school, and the clock on the wall would suddenly begin it’s manual back-tracking, clicking off minutes by the second until it reached the correct time. These days, most of my clocks are not only digital, but connected to the internet in one fashion or another, and thus intelligent and capable enough to make the update themselves. I simply woke-up this morning, and time had changed.

However, this afternoon while reading in my living room, I began to feel a bit hungry, and looked to the clock on the stove to see what time it was. The clock read 5:30, and so I decided it was probably a good time to start making some dinner. I went to the refrigerator to collect the items I had intended to cook and placed them on the counter. I then decided, as is my custom, to put on some music while I prepared dinner. I walked over to my computer, and as I went to turn on iTunes, I noticed the clock on my computer, which had automatically updated itself over night, read 4:30. The digital clock on the stove, not possessing the intelligence to grasp daylights savings time had not been updated, and thus was now an hour off. I stood there in my apartment, looking at the food upon the counter, and gazing back and forth between the two clocks. Sure, I was hungry – but 4:30 is too early to start dinner. I was reminded once again how false the concept of time truly is.

Last week I was in Maui on vacation – my second trip to the island this year. While I certainly had a wonderful time on my first visit – as I had never been there before, there was a lot I wanted to do. I filled my days with sight-seeing and various day-trips to beaches and hikes and the like. This time, I intentionally planned very little. Most days consisted of waking up, going for a run with Jessica, drinking some good coffee, laying on the beach, swimming in the ocean, swimming in the pool, and eating tasty dinners, often at home or close to the condominium where we were staying. I can’t imagine I drove more than 10 minutes from the condo and its lovely private beach, once we arrived. The only thing I had planned for the week was an event on Saturday I had purchased tickets for Jessica and myself a few months earlier. It was a conversation between two of my favorite writers and spiritual teachers, Wayne Dyer and Eckhart Tolle. In preparation for the talk, I acquired Eckhart’s book “The Power of Now” on iTunes, and listened to it as I rested poolside, or in the comforting shade of a palm tree.

I won’t attempt to summarize “The Power of Now”, if you haven’t had the pleasure of reading anything by Eckhart, I recommend you do. There are many brilliant observations made in that book, but one of the seemingly simplest, yet profound concepts is the simple fact that everything happens in the now. Nothing has ever happened in the past – and nothing will ever happen in the future. All we have is an infinite now – this current moment. The reason this is such a hard concept to wrap our minds around is the fact that we’ve created numerous mental constructs to suggest otherwise. Instead of feeling the moment, we instead feel time, and count the seconds into minutes – minutes into hours, hours to days, days to weeks, weeks to months, months to years and so on. By creating time, we have negated the moment (the now) and solidified the concept of past and future into our daily existence. What’s worse, we have applied emotion and meaning to these illusory descriptions of the moment. It is Sunday evening as I write this post, which means tomorrow is Monday. Is there anyone reading this post who can not feel a difference in their mind between the words Sunday and Monday? This is an entirely human conundrum. Trees and birds do not recognize this change of days, the way they might feel the seasons or recognize a difference between night and day. Days of the week are purely a human invention, and while completely illusory – very much real in the sense that our daily experience is dominated by this structure.

Sitting in Maui, with no plans for the week, and no goals for each passing day – it was quite easy to “be in the now”.  I left work behind as much as a business owner can – and the warm air, beautiful colors and inviting waters helped remove any worries or regrets hiding in my subconscious.  I’m good at being on vacation – I’ve worked hard to be so – to truly relax and let the days pass.  However, I knew like everything, the vacation would have to end.  The question was how I could maintain that same feeling of being present to the current moment, rather than wrapped in the mental constructs of past and future, which almost always manifest themselves as regret or anxiety.  While flying back to Portland, I began to ponder how I could change my reality.

Over the summer I decided to stop working on Fridays. I had hired on a fulltime employee, and the added assistance he provided greatly increased my company’s productivity and profitability. The instant I decided to stop working on Fridays, the way Friday felt changed. It was now part of the weekend. Likewise, Thursday now shifted as well, as it was the last day of the “work week”. Recognizing the shift in my perception of the week forced me to look at how I spend all my time, and helped point the way to a possible solution to my new goal of breaking down these illusions of time.

I am very lucky that I work for myself, and as such, have complete control over my schedule (within reason). Even with this freedom from the typical 9 to 5 outlook, I still find myself falling into the same cycle and patterns most people live with. I still show up at work between 8:30 and 9 – and most days work till 4:30 or 5. I work on Wednesday, relax on Saturday. Over the next few months however, I want to begin breaking free from this construct as much as I can. Starting this week I plan to start getting up earlier than I typically do – ideally before the sun even rises – and carve out an entirely new space in my life that hasn’t existed prior. Rather then waking up, taking a shower, and heading down to the bus and into the office – I plan to rise at 6:00am and not head to work until 9am. That three hour space I’m carving out will be used for reflection, exercise, writing, eating a healthy breakfast and most likely other tasks I’m not yet aware of. Three hours, four days a week (Friday is entirely mine) is twelve hours of time dedicated to something outside of work – outside the illusory structure of the workweek. Half a complete day, to use as I see fit. Monday might not feel so much like a Monday, if the first three hours of the day are dedicated not to catching up on email or sitting in meetings – but instead reading, reflecting and enjoying those early moments of the morning.

Gaining or losing one hour will seem trite if I can carve out half a day each week to dedicate to self.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.

- Rumi

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A Trip To Portland Heights

Written on August 22, 2011 by Greg Spies

portland-cable-car

There is a large, framed and very old photograph hanging in the back hallway of a bar in downtown Portland that captured my attention the very first time I saw it.  This washed out, turn of the century black and white photograph shows a barren hillside, upon which sits two homes, and before them stretches what appears to be an enormous trestle, climbing the hillside at an impossible angle, and holding upon it’s back two train cars, within which several well dressed men pose, seemingly convinced this is a safe and reasonable endeavor.  Each time I would pass this photograph in the hallway, I would ponder the lunacy of the situation it portrayed – this impossibly angled, pier of a structure, slapped together in a tangled mess of wooden beams and nails, somehow pulling two train cars up a hillside to nowhere. Who were these men and where were they going?  And the two homes… who lived in such an odd place?  Where in the world was this?

Then one day while staring deep into the image I realized I actually recognized the shining, castle-like home in the middle of the photograph.  It was the home of my landlord, whose apartment in the house next door I had begun renting a few weeks earlier.  Suddenly the name of my new street, Cable Avenue, began to make sense. However, as there was no giant cable car riding up the hillside, I was left with more questions than answers. Last week I happened to return to that bar, and while passing the portrait was once again struck by the sheer grandeur of this project – and decided it was time to learn its history.

In the summer of 1887 the Portland Cable Railway Company was formed with the goal of providing a means to transport people from downtown Portland up to Portland Heights.  While some homes had been built at the higher elevation, the rainy Portland winters and primitive dirt roads prevented year-round residence. By creating a means for people to get there, those that had purchased the land while it was cheap would be able to turn a nice profit on all the newly desired lots upon the southwest hills.

trestle-2The trestle started at a power station now buried beneath US26, near the entranceway of the tunnels that carve through those mountains today, and ran at a 20% grade up 18th Street, climbing up to Jackson Street in Portland Heights. At that point the line continued along the ground to a turntable on Spring Street before turning and descending back down.

It would take nearly three years before the first cable cars would run up the more than 1000 foot length of the trestle, on February 22, 1890.  Two days later on February 24th, one of the cars heading down the trestle failed to connect with the cable and began racing down the platform.  The novice train operators panicked, jumping off the car, leaving three passengers behind, no doubt screaming for their lives. The car eventually flipped at the turn on Jefferson. No fatalities were reported however.

On April 11, 1892, Alice Druhot, the widow of Felix Druhot, purchase a parcel of land from J.C. and Annie Shofner, and built her house, gleaming white amongst the tarnished hillside, in its castellated Italian Villa style.  Her son, Arnold most likely was the architect. Lots along the now popular Portland Heights were selling for around $600, although lots with homes on them could fetch up to $5000.  The Shofner’s had purchased the land from the Smith brothers, Walter and Preston, the later of which was a prime investor and president of the Portland Cable Railway Company. Alice received a mortgage of $800 from Lombard Investment Company and began construction along what was listed as “18th, alley” – a lot with a spectacular view of downtown Portland and the modern cable line running up the hillside. Upon completion of the new home, Alice moved in along with her five sons, Edward, Carl, Felix, Arnold and Harvey. It was said Mrs. Druhot lowered her “large and elegant” furnishings from Montgomery Avenue, high above.

Much like the housing booms of today however, Alice’s time in the  home upon the hill was short-lived, and three years later financial trouble set in, and in 1895 and then again in 1896 she failed to pay the principal on her loan and found herself behind on taxes. On January 23rd, 1897 the home was foreclosed on, and remained vacant for the next few years.

trestle-3The cable line didn’t fair any better. Six months after service began, in July of 1890, the Portland Cable Railway Company would declare bankruptcy, but the operation would be continued by the Portland Railway Company, which would later become the Portland Railway, Light and Power Company, and eventually merge with Portland General Electric (PGE) long after the lines were gone. In 1896 all but the trestle portion of the line was converted to electric power.

Better roads were being built, electric lines were replacing cable cars, and with the completion of the Forge Street Bridge in 1904, later to be replaced by the Vista Bridge in 1926, the cable line and the enormous trestle that supported it became unnecessary.  All 1000 feet of the wooden structure was demolished in 1905, and no sign of it remains today.

I am often in awe of the pioneer spirit that defines Portland’s history – and the wild entrepreneurs and dreamers who built impossible things.  I’m equally amazed at how quickly those creations and their stories disappear.


Resources used in researching this post:

National Register of Historic Places
Alice Druhot House Registration for National Register of Historic Places
Oregon Historical Society
The Oregonian
D. D. Tinzeroes

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Supply And Demand

Written on July 25, 2011 by Greg Spies

space

This evening I watched President Obama address the nation with regards to the debt ceiling controversy that has been raging in DC and beyond for a few months now.  I also watched Speaker Boehner’s response to President.  Both men made it clear that it’s the opposing party’s inability to compromise that is “holding the economy hostage”.  Both men asked God to bless America, reminded American’s that we are the greatest country that has ever existed in the entire universe, and spoke of the need to grow our economy and put American’s back to work.  It wasn’t so much what they said that I found lacking in understanding of the issues at hand – it was what they and nearly every politician has neglected to say for months if not years now.  No, I’m not referring to the fact that we’ve been in multi-billion dollar wars with third-world countries for nearly a decade now – nor how morally corrupt it is to continue to provide multi-millionaires and billion dollar corporations with amazing tax breaks and incentives to hide their wealth and transfer their workforces overseas.  The 800 pound gorilla in the room that either nobody sees, or nobody wants to confront, is that the world has changed and the cause is not politics, religion or immigration policies – it is the conflict between our rapidly growing technology and our archaic economic system.

Our current economic system, which finds its roots as far back as medieval times, is based on a simple principle that every third grader knows – Supply and Demand.  The concept is simple – there is a finite supply of everything, and prices are set by the demand for that item versus its relative supply in the marketplace.  For the past few centuries, this system in its various incarnations, generally worked.  A community could only produce so much product, that product would then be divided based on the needs of that community and how the members of that community decided to spend their earnings relative to their station in life.  While there was certainly trade, for the most part, a community’s resources was limited by its geographical area and the skills of its people.  Over time, with advancements in transportation and communication, the scope of what a community could source grew.  Even so, no one would have imagined in 1900 that the majority of the products people in the United States would be using a hundred years later would be coming from China and other foreign nations.  The notion that someone in New York would be eating a tomato grown in Mexico would have seemed ridiculous.  Yet, as transportation costs and low-cost labor benefits stacked up, suddenly American’s were importing the majority of their goods rather than producing them.  Today it’s estimated that only 2% of clothing purchased in the US is actually produced here.1

Now we mustn’t get nostalgic about the glory years of NYC’s garment district – those were never the most desirable jobs available, and most went to first generation immigrants who worked painfully hard in less than ideal situations.  My point is not that we need to look for the “Made In The USA” label – it’s to highlight how the technology of the 20th century, which primarily focused on greater industrialization and massively improved transportion, radically transformed the world we lived in.  A century that started with the horse and buggy ended with satellites and airplanes circling the globe.  All the while we patch-worked our economic system, supported struggling industries, lamented the closing of America’s industrial strongholds, and continued to ask our politicians where the jobs were.

Now, in the 21st century, technology is racing at a far greater pace, and still we seem incapable of recognizing the radical shift that is occurring all around us.  The simple fact is that technology is created by technology.  There could not have been televisions, until Edison spread the understanding of electricity.  There could not have been computers had there not been the invention of the television, and the various technologies discovered in its development.  With each breakthrough in understanding, the capacity for greater breakthroughs arise.  Many are familiar with the observations of Intel’s co-founder Gordon E. Moore, referred to as Moore’s Law, that processor speeds for computers double every two years.  This is the result of the fact that the technology itself creates its own improvements, and thus “the number of transistors that can be placed inexpensively on an integrated circuit doubles approximately every two years.” 2

This phenomenon helps explain why the rotary phone in the house I grew up in was not particularly dissimilar to the phone my parents used when they were a child, and yet I’ve upgraded from a flip phone, to an iPhone, to an iPhone 3G, to an iPhone4, all in the scope of five years.  The fact is, our technology is growing at an exponential rate, and thus each next iteration is greater than the past version by greater and greater measures, in less and less time. And, what applies to circuit boards applies to almost every facet of our lives.

The consequences of that are far-reaching, and yet seemingly ignored.  Several times this year I’ve had conversations with friends or colleagues in which I’ve stated the next industry to disappear is the publishing industry.  I’m not referring to books or authors, just the printing of text on paper, and primarily the stores and distribution methods setup to support this industry.  One only has to download one free Public Domain book on their iPad to suddenly realize they will never purchase a paperback copy of Plato, Thoreau or Shakespeare at a bookstore again.  In fact, I can’t really imagine why I would purchase a new book in its traditional form ever.  Arguments to the contrary typically state, “oh, but I love the feel of holding a book in my hand” or “I love the smell of ink on paper” or my favorite, “I like to be able to give my books to someone else when I’m done” (a wonderfully altruistic argument, I must admit). I typically just smile and shake my head, as I imagine folks in the last century century must have done when friends argued how much they’d miss their daily conversations with the milk man.  Yet, just last week it was announced that Borders, one of the largest bookstore chains in the US,  will be closing all 500+ of its stores.  The company had not made a profit since 2005.

So what does the closure of Borders have to do with the global economy?  Ask the 19,500 employees of Borders who are now looking for a job.  If you can’t reach them, perhaps ask one of the 60,000 individuals that Blockbuster employed in 2009.  You might still find a few of them if you look hard enough, but you better act quickly… what few shops remain will be closing soon, and no amount of political magic will bring them back.  You won’t find any employees from its major competitor Hollywood Video either, they closed the doors of their 2000+ stores in May of 2010.

Why have all these videos stores and the thousands of jobs they created disappeared?  Those damn Democrats?  Bush’s tax cuts for the wealthy?  No… Technology.  Very few folks are interested in jumping into their cars and driving to the local video store to rent a movie they can either have delivered to their home or streamed over the internet thanks to Netflix or iTunes.  The only problem is that Netflix doesn’t need to employ nearly as many people to manage their supply chain as a Blockbuster or Hollywood Video (not to mention all the contractors and constructions crews, electricians and custodians needed to build and maintain physical stores).  In fact, I would argue the recent Netflix price increase is nothing but their less than subtle attempt to ween folks off of mailed DVDs, and force them to watch streaming only videos.  Why?  Less folks to employ.  Whether one copy of “Mad Men” has to go out, or ten thousand, when you do it digitally online, it takes no more effort and no more human interaction to make it happen.  No envelope stuffers to hire, no mail sorters to pay, nobody to scan this or mail that. Beyond that, it’s far more advantageous for the customer to just download a digital copy, than hope there is a physical copy at the local store.  I remember when Batman came to video when I was a kid.  Our local Blockbuster had 100 copies, that took up nearly three floor-to-ceiling shelves.  But each time for the first few weeks I ran to the the New Release section in hopes of getting a copy, not a single one was to be found.  There just wasn’t enough to go around.

And thus we come full circle to the original thought that triggered this post – welcome to the age of limitless supply.

We are only just entering what will be the most radical shift in human culture since the advent of the written language – the age of plenty.  Whether its books, music, clothing, food, medicine, or just about anything else one can imagine, there is either now, or in the very near future, going to be an unlimited supply available to us.  ”BUT GREG, OUR NATURAL RESOURCES ARE SO SCARCE… WE WON’T EVEN HAVE ENOUGH WATER FOR EVERYONE IN TWENTY YEARS.”   First, stop using the caps-lock, that’s annoying. Second, you’re forgetting Moore’s Law.  You’re trying to solve future problems with today’s technology.  That’s like trying to get to the moon in 1900.  You need the Wright Brothers before you can have a Neil Armstrong.  The problems of our future will be solved by our unbelievable technology – devices and sciences that are unimaginable today, but will be reality in a mere decade.  Then those technologies will rapidly develop even more profound technologies.

When politicians speak about what things will be like in 2040, they always seem to imagine that 2040 will have all the same technologies and scientific understandings we have today.  That is beyond ignorant.  Just as profound as the technological advances from 1980 to 2000 were, the advances from 2000 to 2020 will be exponentially greater.  Not twice as much… exponentially greater.  As there was no internet in 1980, there will be new technologies and improvements to transportation, medicine and communication 20 years from now that not even someone who daydreams about technology as much as I do can foresee.  When you consider how disconnected and fragmented our education and scientific communities were a mere decade ago before the rise of the internet, one can hardly imagine the impact that this technology is and will continue to have on the future of those professions.  The amount of information being shared and thus learned today overshadows even the greatest libraries and universities of the 20th century.

The consequence however, is that our economic system and our culture as a whole is not setup for this.  It is setup for a world in which there is a ton of work that needs to be done, monstrous sums of production required to create the goods we need, and thus anyone willing to work can certainly find employment, get paid, and acquire the goods they desire.  But as population continues to grow alongside technology, we will soon, if we have not already, surpass the need for our available workforce.  We will either have to force industries to deprecate the technologies available to them, or find alternative means to determine an individual’s worth.  We either ban digital copies of music, videos, books and applications, or we accept that fact that the millions of jobs those various industries created in their 20th century manually distributed means are gone.  As each new industry begins to defend itself from technology in a desperate struggle to save jobs, whether it be teachers, nurses, customer service reps, oil rig workers, cashiers, mailmen, gas station attendants, realtors, travel agents, lawn care professionals or  Yellow Page salesman (yes, my good friend Gary sold ads for Yellow Pages until a year ago) – more and more folks will find themselves replaced by technology, and politicians will offer more promises of a better tomorrow, and blame the other guy for the lack of jobs.

Certainly, in a perfect world, there could never be enough doctors and scientists and artists – individuals living to full potential, sharing their gifts and passions with the world.  Sadly, while our technology continues to double, our compassion for our fellow man and our understanding that we are all in this together does not.  We point fingers and long for better days long gone, instead of recognizing how amazing the time we live in is and will be.  How profound a time we are soon approaching, when man struggles for nothing.  Where man can dedicate his time not to labor, but to family and community.  That his value will not be measured by his paycheck or his hours worked, but the happiness and fulfillment he finds in each limitless day.  That instead of fighting for scarce resources, he shares in the abundance of the good life with friends, family and neighbors alike.

BUT GREG, THIS SOUNDS LIKE COMMUNISM, AND COMMUNISM HAS ALREADY FAILED.  Again, stop with the caps-lock.  Technology does not lean to a particular political ideology, and neither do I.  Any attempts to share in the bounty life provides in the past would have no doubt been crushed by the reality that there truly was a limited supply and a great demand.  Class systems inevitably form when demand outweighs supply, and thus any attempt to share the wealth is pointless when there are limits to that wealth.  My point is simply that those limits are coming to an end – and not 100 years from now, or 50 years from now.  They are ending now.  Our economic system is crumbling not because of politics or greed, but because it is archaic, outdated, and if one spends a few moments trying to figure out where money comes from, completely illusory. (hint: it’s not gold… and even if it were, that’s just a mineral we’ll most likely be able to replicate in a decade or so, the way we do with diamonds today).

On New Years Eve in the year 2000 I sat in a room with several friends and I suggested a scenario.  Imagine you woke-up tomorrow morning and opened the Best Buy circular (I believe I said Circuit City at the time, but they closed their 567 stores in 2009), and they announced that all television sets were free that day.  How many would you get?  Some folks said two, a few others were greedy and said five.  I decided to be the most greedy and I said I’d probably get at least 10.  I’m not sure what I would do with 10 tvs, but if they’re free, why not?   Most everyone then agreed that they would probably carry out as many TVs as they could fit into their car.  I then said, what would happen the next morning when you woke-up and Best Buy announced again, that today, all television sets were free.  How many would you get then?  The room fell silent. When you have everything you need, you long for nothing. In a world of limitless supply, there is zero demand.

Just imagine.

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Dreaming In The Land of Plenty

Written on July 12, 2011 by Greg Spies

plenty

Has it really been almost two months since I’ve written a blog post?  My dear, faithful readers – my sincerest apologies, but your humble narrator has been rather busy carving out an entirely new life in which to live – and thus has been unable to find the time to document this transformation, or comment on the success.  This evening I have found that moment.

At the beginning of this year, I sat down and I wrote out 50 goals to transform my life.  I found myself running a struggling web development company, one I had greatly considered abandoning at the end of 2010.  I was uninspired and honestly unhappy.  I was living in the same apartment I had for five years – and my habits and the life they had formed no longer motivated me.  I decided I could either continue in this pathetic direction, or radically transform things.  An old friend had performed an interesting goals project, and I took it upon myself to do the same.  What began was a journey that took me to this moment.

Today, half way through 2011, I am happy to report that my life has been radically improved.  I became re-inspired by my business, and after a lot of effort and clarity of purpose, May was my best month of billing in nearly five years.  Then in June we crushed that sales record!  I am confident July will beat even that.  Both Jessica and myself hired on folks, and the new energy in the office has been wonderful.  I closed my largest deal ever three weeks ago, and the investments I made in learning Adobe Business Catalyst and cleaning up the financial side of things have entirely paid off.  The Interactive Dept. is a thriving web development studio – and I couldn’t be more proud.

At the start of May I began taking a long hard look at my negative habits, and for the most part have really cleaned up my life.  While I was never in serious peril with my drinking and such – recognizing that there was a time and place for everything, and making sure I observed my actions carefully greatly transformed how I spent my freetime – and more importantly, gave me the clear head I needed to tackle so many other smaller issues in my life that had always seemed impossible to resolve.  My hands are back on the wheel and I am truly driving this life – and that is extremely rewarding.

One of my goals at the start of the year was to visit several apartments I couldn’t currently afford.  One of the places I visited was Tupelo Alley – a gorgeous apartment complex on N. Mississippi.  It was twice my current rent, but ten-times the quality.  At the end of June I moved into Tupelo Alley, into a wonderful 1-bedroom apartment on the 4th floor, overlooking Mississippi and Forest Park to the west.  Much as I had assumed, once I saw what was “outside my reach” – my reach expanded.  I began to contemplate living in a place like that, and sure enough, the thoughts grew to a point that they felt more like memories, and before I knew it I was signing the lease and getting the keys.  As I never worried about the “how” – the universe was kind enough to massively improve the revenue my business was making, and thus everything fell into place as it almost always seems to do.

All these wonderful new experiences provided me with a high that I’ve been riding for nearly a month now.  Last night however,  I sat down for the first time in a long time and asked a really hard question.  ”NOW WHAT?”

It’s easy to feel you’ve crossed the finish line – that you’ve won.  I can sit down on my couch, confident that it looks a million times better in this new place, watch the sun setting over the west hills and say, “well done!”  But what’s the fun in that?  So last night for the first time in far too long, I meditated (or day-dreamed as I prefer to say) about what could be better than this.  Almost immediately I felt this overwhelming energy, as if my brain was saying, “Oh there you are!”  For nearly an hour I simply relaxed and contemplated all that I still desired, while reflecting on how insanely blessed I was to possess the gifts I’ve received thus far this year.  I think I had generally forgotten how good it feels to simply wish for things – to relax entirely and reflect on that which you desire.  To conjure up scenarios in your mind and see yourself living the life you desire that is currently beyond your grasp. To not worry about the “how” or the “why” – but just see yourself enjoying an ideal life.  I had forgotten how good it feels to see yourself in your mind’s eye living a life fulfilled.

Perhaps it was easier to daydream when things were unsatisfying – an escape from the mundane and freedom from an undesired station in life.  However, as someone who truly believes thoughts become reality – I know it’s a horrible habit to let those thoughts fade.  Or worse, to let the mind travel aimlessly like a ship without a captain.  So last night I began anew – from a far grander vantage point no doubt – to envision where my life should take me.  Thoughts centered around getting entirely out of debt (primarily tax burdens I’m still struggling with) and improved personal relationships. I dreamt of sharing what I currently have with someone else, and getting to share in their life as well.  I contemplated my health and how I could exercise more and improve my diet.  I dreamt of places I still longed to visit, and the beach house on Maui I someday desire to call home.

I felt beyond refreshed when I had completed my thoughts.  While it is wonderful to come home to this new apartment and gratifying to go to work at such a vibrant and exciting business – it is always equally important to dream of what’s yet to come.  Because it will.  It always does.

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Things I Learned From Bob Dylan

Written on May 15, 2011 by Greg Spies

dylan

Bob Dylan turns 70 this month and tributes are pouring in from around the world.  I figured it was only appropriate that I take a moment to put down some thoughts on the man who I point to as the most influential person in my life (parents not included of course).  While these days my musical library is a bit broader, there was a period of my life, from around 16-22 that I listened to almost nothing but Bob Dylan albums and bootlegs.  I took his words as gospel, finding meanings within the meanings and associating the various ideas and phrases he painted into every aspect of my life. There was only one truth, and that truth was Bob Dylan.

My journey with Dylan started in 1994 at the age of 16.  I was doing math homework in the living room and my mom was watching a tv show about the history of rock-n-roll.  As they began crawling through the 60s, the show started discussing Bob Dylan.  They played a clip of a young Dylan playing “The Times They Are A Changin” – and my head literally exploded.  I remember looking up from my homework, and seeing this young man saying everything that I had ever felt or thought or feared, and with a voice so real that suddenly every pop singer and rapper of the day became a foolish actor – a gussied-up puppet spewing childish nonsense.

“Come mothers and fathers throughout the land.  And don’t criticize what you can’t understand.  Your sons and your daughers are beyond your command.  Your old road is rapidly fading.  Get out of the  new one if you can’t lend your hand, ’cause the times, they are a changin’.”

It was a warning of the apocalypse - a message from the beyond that my perfect little suburban world was going to be washed away in a flood so fierce that only the righteous would be spared.  That I had “better start swimming” or I’d “sink like a stone“.  How had I not heard this warning prior?  Why was everyone not listening to Bob Dylan?  Who was this figure?  Was he still alive?  Had anyone heeded his message?  My mind raced.  What more had he said?  Were there other warnings?

I asked my father if he had any Bob Dylan albums, and he informed me he thought he had one of them.  I ran to the basement and searched through my father’s extensive record collection and discovered he did indeed have one album from this Dylan character – “Blood On The Tracks”.  I placed it on my old Fisher Price record player, and the opening notes of “Tangled Up In Blue” began to play.  This album was completely different however than what I had heard upstairs – this wasn’t a young folk singer telling the world to wake-up.  Was it the same man? Yet I found the album captivating and listened to it over and over again.  The stories it told were so profoundly different than any of the contemporary music I’d been listening to prior.  The next week I would go out and purchase “Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits”, and begin my journey of owning every Dylan album and memorizing every word of it. The things I would learn from these albums would radically change my way of thinking and how I saw the world around me.  Two years later I would go to my first Dylan concert, and mid-way through a harmonica solo on “Girl From The North Country” all the perceived chains in my life would evaporate, and I would feel a spiritual freedom that has stuck with me to this day.  I would deviate at that very moment from whatever path I’d been on prior, and begin a journey I still find myself on today.

These are some of the things I learned from Bob Dylan.

GO OUT INTO THE WORLD AND DISCOVER YOURSELF

I would soon begin to read about Dylan and quickly learned his story.  That his name wasn’t Bob Dylan, but rather Robert Zimmerman.  That he had come from a small mining town in Minnesota, but upon learning his hero Woody Guthrie was dying in Brooklyn State Hospital, had hitch-hiked his way across America to New York City in the hopes of meeting him in January of 1961.  He had met him, gotten to know him well in fact, and along the way met most of the great folks singers of the day.  At first Dylan fit right in, learning the various folk standards, and performing those songs in coffeeshops and bars around Greenwich Village.  However, very quickly Dylan would start writing his own songs – the first being a breath-taking tribute to Woody.  This was something others weren’t doing at the time.  Folks singers interpreted traditional songs, but very few actually wrote their own pieces.  Dylan not only began writing songs, but he wrote better songs – songs that would become standards themselves.  Before long, other artists were performing his songs, and works like “Blowing In the Wind” would become “hits”.  He would get signed to Columbia, something else most folk singers weren’t doing – and Dylan would become a mainstream folk artist.  Two years after hitch-hiking to NYC, Dylan would perform at the March on Washington For Jobs and Freedom where Martin Luther King would deliver his famous “I Have A Dream” speech.  The simple act of leaving home had transformed a young nobody into a folk legend, and placed twenty-two year old Dylan in one of the most important moments in American history.  If that doesn’t inspire you to go out into the world and find your calling – nothing will.

YOU CAN CHANGE – AND NOT JUST A LITTLE

As I would collect more and more Dylan albums, it became apparent that this man was a chameleon.  Each album brought a different sound and a different face.  Not only had he changed his name, he could change his style and change his voice.  From folk music, to rock music, to country music, to gospel music, to music that defied any recognizable genre, Dylan has tried it all.  Each time he made the genre his own, and created new standards.  Folk musicians could now write their own songs, rock musicians could write songs longer than four minutes that actually said something.  Country songs could have a folk-rock sensibility, and religious songs could… well… not suck. Whereas most artists, and in reality, most people, found one style and stuck with it, Dylan tried them all.  Just when he seemed to reach the apex of that style, he would abandon it for something else.  One didn’t have to slowly evolve over time – a chapter could be closed and a new one opened abruptly. You didn’t have to dwell on your past, you could focus on the moment and that moment could be anything you desired.  This freedom to change and not be tied to how others had previously perceived you opened my mind to unlimited possibilities, and the freedom to try something new at a moment’s notice.

IGNORE YOUR CRITICS

People don’t always like change – especially when something they love changes to something they don’t fully understand.  As such, Dylan has always had as many critics as he has fans.  I can think of no other popular artist who has been booed as many times as Dylan.  Whether it was plugging in an electric guitar at the Newport Folk Festival, or refusing to play his hits during gospel-like performances during his Christian phase, Dylan has never let the criticism of others control his creativity.    It is easy in life to let fear of what others will think temper your personal growth.  The fact is that most people can’t appreciate what others are going through, and criticism is typically misplaced anyhow.  In one of the most classic moments in rock-n-roll history, Bob Dylan is called “Judas” from a fan prior to playing “Like A Rolling Stone” during a performance at the Manchester Free Trade Hall in 1966.  You can hear the crowd cat-calling and booing throughout the performance.  ”Like A Rolling Stone” is now considered in poll after poll as the greatest rock song of all time.  Had Dylan listened to the critics, we may never had heard this masterpiece and many others.  Time and time again critics have suggested it’s time for Dylan to retire – that this album wasn’t as good as that album, and these songs aren’t nearly as good as those songs.  Yet he presses on, and in time, many of those albums are seen later as far more brilliant than originally thought.  Dylan has rarely given interviews during his long career, preferring to let the music speak for itself.  Even though he has avoided mainstream press and self-promotion, countless articles are written about him on a daily basis.  I visit Expecting Rain daily, a website that collects all the various Dylan mentions throughout the world on any given day.  It’s shocking how much is said about someone who rarely speaks out.  Those who criticize Dylan these days are often met with a barrage of criticism of their own, as dedicated Dylan fans rush to his defense.  Live your life as you need it to be, without worrying what others will think – chances are they’re wrong anyhow.

THE WORLD ISN’T AS SCARRY AS IT LOOKS

Dylan’s songs are filled with a menagerie of characters.  The first time I heard “A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall” I was captivated by all the various people he encountered.  “A newborn baby with wild wolves all around it”, “ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken”, “a poet who died in the gutter”, “a clown who cried in the alley”, “a young child beside a dead pony”, “a young woman whose body was burning” and more.  Dylan’s songs are filled with these images, people and places and encounters that mystify and inspire.  I dreamt of going out into the world and finding these people too.  I longed to “walk to the depths of the deepest black forest, where the people are many and their hands are all empty.” After college I would move out west in pursuit of this vision.  To find myself in a new city, surrounded by strangers, and to meet as many people as I could.  I would take road trips down the coast, train rides across the Canadian landscape, adventures through Europe – typically by myself so that I was forced to meet as many people as I could.  I met a large woman who ran a forensics clean-up company in Louisville.  I met a white bearded man who saw everything as a conspiracy. I met a 90 year old woman on a train who taught me life isn’t short, it’s wonderfully long.  I’ve met cab drivers who are wealthy men in their home countries, homeless men who had almost been famous athletes, musicians who can only perform with their eyes closed, salesmen who wished to be artists and more.  I’ve learned to listen to those around me, to hear their stories and to care about the outcomes.  To inspire people and permit them for a moment to speak their dreams out loud.  To not judge or preach or inform – to simply witness life as it truly is and see the beauty in everything.

So Happy Birthday Bob Dylan.  My life is wonderfully more alive because of your words and the wisdom they provide.  Now if you don’t mind, “I’m going back out before the rain starts a fallin’.”

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A Proud Mama’s Boy

Written on May 8, 2011 by Greg Spies

mom

A few years ago I heard Penn Jillette, the vocal half of the magic group Penn & Teller relay a funny story about his mother.  The duo had just completed their opening night performance in NYC and as the tradition goes, had stayed up all night to await their review in The New York Times.  The review was hugely positive, and their manager turned to his mother and said, “doesn’t that make you proud.” His mother replied, “I don’t need the New York Times to be proud of my son, I was proud of him the instant he was born.”

As Penn explains – there are two types of mama’s boys in this world.  There is the traditional interpretation – a wimpy, winey, can’t take care of himself type that relies on his mother for everything.  There is however another type – the type whose mother “had such complete and unconditional love for her son, that he had the feeling he was 12-feet tall and bullet-proof.”  (listen to Penn’s story)

I was unbelievably lucky enough to fall into that second category.  To suggest my mom had faith in me would be the grandest of understatements.  I can not recall a single occasion where she doubted, criticized or made light of my dreams.  That’s not to say she has always been excited about my plans.  When I decided to move out west, I’m sure she would have preferred I instead took a job teaching back in my hometown, moved down the street perhaps, married a nice local gal and settled down.  Her plans for me however never took precedence over mine – and even when she had questions of how I was going about my dreams, they were always in my defense.

When I moved to Portland, I was a naive 23-year old, with no job lined up and no money in my pocket.  I found work with a gentlemen who was one-half businessman, one-half charlatan. It was my introduction to the world of the “start-up” and I began working countless hours for very little pay, in the hopes that soon I would be a very wealthy man.  In fact, I’d even agreed to get the company logo tattooed on my arm once I made my first million.  Needless to say my skin remains un-adorned.  I would write to my mother and explain how busy I was, and how excited I was about all the potential I saw in this new business.  Her response, while still positive, questioned why I would work so hard for so little pay.  “Don’t you think your time is valuable?” she asked.  At the time I passed it off as a lack of understanding of how business worked – but as the hours continued to pile up, and the tattoo appointment continued to get pushed further and further into the unforeseeable future, those words became truer and truer.  Eventually I would quit that job, walk out of the shop and eventually start my own business and discover my true value.  These days any time a prospective client tries to argue about price, I stand firm on my belief that I’m worth every penny of the hefty hourly I charge for my time.  My time is of great value – mama said.

I have always been a creative person – writing short-stories, painting and sketching, playing guitar and mandolin.  That entirely stems from my childhood when such endeavors were not merely time-fillers but rather proof of how wonderfully gifted my sisters and I were.  The house I grew up in is not filled with Picasso prints, but rather the walls are adorned with the artwork my sisters and I created over the years.  It’s a museum of Spies children, ranging from gigantic kindergarten paintings in the sun-porch, to a full wall of elementary school works in the kitchen.  When I declared I wanted to paint a “mural” in high school, my Mom agreed it was a worthy project.  The far wall of my bedroom (now the computer room) still has this giant work I created. Most parents would have probably painted over that the second I went to college. The living room contains no less then three of my high-school paintings.  All are framed and given the respect typically reserved for artists.  That’s because we are artists.  I have never seen that title as something belonging to those of a higher creative ilk – I am an artist.  I am also a writer – and I can’t recall a single time where my mother said “I don’t have time to read that” or looked it over briefly and said, “yes, that’s nice.” Rather, I was encouraged to write regularly and she worked often as my editor.  My parents let me use the type-writer as a child (yes, I grew up in a time before computers as hard as that is to believe).  Again, by letting me use the typewriter I could feel like a professional.  I look back now and can only imagine how annoying it must  have been to have  me tap-tap-tapping away all afternoon on that device, not to mention probably damaging it now and again when I’d be compelled to see just how many keys I could press down at once (MOM… the typewriter jammed again…) The constant encouragement and interest in my writing compelled me to pursue such interests, graduating from college with a journalism degree.  This blog is a direct result of my interest not only in writing, but in sharing that work with others.  A few weeks ago I told my mom via email that I was working on a short-novel for my Goals Project.  Her response – “I am so glad that you are writing again! I always loved and enjoyed your work. I would really like to see what you have written so far… so if you ever feel like sharing, I am an interested audience!!!” I’m a great writer – mama said.

I’ve always had my own outlook on life, and while my mom’s views have not always run parallel to mine, she never attempted to force her views on me.  She likes to retell the story of how when I was very young, I asked why everyone referred to God as “He”.  “Well, God is a man,” my mother replied, as she had no doubt been taught in Catholic School growing up.  “No she isn’t,” I replied.  Not only do I love the fact that I was already questioning traditional religious dogma before I entered Kindergarten, I know up until I became an atheist in middle school that I truly saw God as a “mother earth” type figure. My mother never tried to push back on my views.  While her and I have had some wonderful philosophical conversations over the years about heaven and faith and God – and her beliefs are strong, they are equally independent.  She asked her priest once why people need to go to church.  She felt she could talk to God as easily as a priest could.  “Most people don’t feel that way,” he explained. “So the Church provides a means to communicate with the Almighty.  If you feel you can do this on your own, then follow that path.” My mother did, and never attended Church service again. She refused to have me and my sister’s baptized because she couldn’t fathom God would produce a child with sin. My mother has never had much concern over my atheism because I hold true to the same fundamental truth that she has preached my entire life – “Treat others as you wish they’d treat you.” This is my gospel and the guiding force behind my life.  Every donation I make, every favor I perform, every stranger I take a sincere interest in – every non-profit I build a website for – the goal is to be the individual I wish everyone was. I am my own spiritual leader – mama said.

It hasn’t always been easy to have a mother who thinks the world of you.  In those wonderful teenage years, where self-doubt reigned supreme over this awkward shell, it was occasionally impossible to imagine I was half the person she thought I was.  How could it be that girls would “totally like me” when they wouldn’t even talk to me?  How could I be a great athlete when I got cut from the JV soccer team?  It would be so much easier to assume the position of loser, or better, some type of invisible spirit that no one had to notice.  Those constant words of encouragement though forced me to press on – to find the things I was “the best” at, and most importantly, to never give up.  The only difference between a successful person and a failure is that successful people fail a lot more.  That core strength to get back up, dust yourself off and try again comes directly from my mother.  Next time I will win – mama said.

Two weeks ago I sent out my company eNewsletter, bragging about the recent work Jessica and I did.  We got some great compliments from several colleagues – art directors at ad agencies, presidents of companies, other great programmers, etc.  My favorite compliment was from a kindergarten teacher in upstate NY who still needs to read the instructions I wrote her a decade ago in order to print something.  “Beautiful work! Thank you for sending me some of your web sites… I really enjoyed looking at your work. I am going to look at it again at home, because my screen at home is much larger/wider than this one here at school. I love that you always do your best! I am so proud of you! Always have been!!!”

I am a great web developer who produces beautiful work.

Mama said.

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May Flowers

Written on May 1, 2011 by Greg Spies

reflection

A new month, on a fresh week, on a gorgeous day – what better moment than the present to transform yourself?

After having some mild success in the first 3 months of 2011 with my Goals Project – I spent the month of April reviewing how I did, and trying to tackle some of the issues that held me back from accomplishing certain goals.  I also admittedly relaxed for an entire weekend and did nothing – something I’d neglected to do in the first quarter as the Goals Project had dominated my weekends.

While I am determined to participate in another round of goals, I’ve decided to dedicate the month of May (and hopefully beyond, but lets start practical) to transforming my lifestyle.  I see this transformation taking place over three main facets of my life: Diet, Exercise and Behavior (or habit modification if you prefer). While I could certainly incorporate these practices into a goals list, the list would no doubt contain other more fun desires and whims, and history has already shown I will focus on the goals that seem most pleasurable first and sadly will allow others to fall by the wayside.  “No más!”

DIET

At the moment I weigh 190lbs.  For a 5′10″ male with a standard frame, I should weigh somewhere between 150-170 depending on which charts I read.  At my best, I’ve gotten down to the low 180s, but 170 or lower seems almost unimaginable.  This is why my diet is going to be key.

The fact is, I’m a relatively active individual.  I walk a mile and a half to work each day, and another mile and a half back home each night.  I don’t own a car, so I basically walk or bike everywhere I need to go.  Yet even when I was working out daily last year, I still never really lost any weight.  How come?

Well I’m certainly not a dietitian, but everything I read seems to suggest my diet (or honestly, lack thereof) is to blame.  As a Spies male, there are two things I really love in life – beer and bread.  I eat bread as a snack – I literally sneak slices of rye bread throughout the day/evening.  I eat sandwiches for almost every lunch (hell, I even wrote a blog post of my top 5 sandwiches) – and my favorite dinner to cook over the years is Chicken Parmesan - yes, breaded chicken, with pasta and of course  – garlic bread.  Carbs anyone?

As for beer, this is a double-edged sword – because not only am I known to put back more than my share of IPA’s when at the bar, drinks at the bar often lead to bar food – and bar food is typically some type of sandwich, greasy as hell, with perhaps a small side salad that I avoid.

And don’t even get me started on pizza!

For the month of May I’ve decided to get serious about the fuel I’m putting in my tank – and during April I started reading more and more about healthy decisions one can make.  I reviewed several popular diets out there and read lots of message boards and blogs regarding weight loss.  My goals was to eat healthy, eat intelligently, but not starve myself or force myself to eat something I didn’t enjoy just to loose some pounds. This has to be a practical life transformation – not a starve yourself for temporary success solution.

After  quite a bit of research I decided to do a variation on the Palio diet recommended by Steve Kamb over at NerdFitness. I’ve been a big fan of Steve’s blog for awhile now and really enjoyed his thoughts on healthy eating.  His summary of the Palio diet philosophy is this:

“Back in the day, grains weren’t part of our diet.  We ate what we could hunt or find – meats, fish, nuts, leafy greens, regional veggies, some tubers and roots, occasional berries or seasonal fruits, and seeds that other animals hadn’t decimated.  Grains came around extremely late in our development cycle and have been causing problems ever since.”

With a number of friends discovering they have issues with gluten, and my own observations that regardless of my fitness level, my weight and general “health” never seemed to greatly improve – I saw a lot of value in what Steve was saying and decided it made sense philosophically, so I should try it.  While I am no longer allowed to eat many of my favorite foods in the quantities I once did (or at all for May) – the foods I am allowed to eat are delicious and the meals I can prepare look and taste great.

I purchased Steve’s “Rebel Strength Guide from his website (I figured I’d been getting tons of free information and ideas for months, I could drop the $39 to read his book) and that included a 6-week menu planner.  This is awesome because I don’t have to think of recipes for every meal – I can just prepare what is listed on the menu.  Everything looks delicious, and I went out shopping yesterday to acquire all I’ll need for week one.  My dinners this week include: Stir fry beef & broccoli, baked chicken with grilled zucchini, grilled steak with asparagus, stir fry shrimp with veggies, grilled salmon with sauteed kale.  Not exactly something to complain about – plus I learn to prepare several new meals which was a big part of my first Goals Project and something I want to continue.

In fact, what might be the most challenging part of this diet is that I will be eating way more than I currently do. Each day will start out with a breakfast (typically eggs with veggies).  I don’t currently eat breakfast – I start my mornings with a cappuccino and either a bagel or a cookie (gosh it pains me to state that I start my day with a friggin’ cookie).  This again suggests that the issue was never “how much” I was eating – but “what” I was eating.  Not only will I be putting better fuel in the tank, I’ll be putting a lot more of it – this should be interesting.

The challenge will be preparing my lunch in advance, as I will have to bring it from home each day.  No more cheese-steaks at Theo’s, spicy italian subs at the People’s Sandwich of Portland – and good-bye to all my carts for the time being – I’ll miss you Give Pizza Chance – I’ll be back Real Taste of India once I discover what it is you were serving me, and what the heck is in it besides deliciousness.

Another challenge will be cost – it’s more expensive to eat healthy.  My grocery bill was noticeably larger yesterday.  Not surprisingly since I had to pick-up 3 steaks and 5 chicken breasts just for one week’s worth of meals. Dinners loaded up with pasta, bread and rice are cheaper for sure then a solid cut of a meat and a medley of veggies.  Hopefully though the cost will not only be beneficial, it will be offset by modifications to my behavior which I’ll discuss shortly.

All in all, I’m excited to see what results I get by thinking logically about what I consume.

EXERCISE

I have a gym membership, I have free-weights at home, I have $100 running shoes and I have a gut – ironic, no?  I’ve often joked that a gym membership is the equivalent of building a robot that works out for you so you don’t have to.  I pay my monthly fee – isn’t that enough?  Shouldn’t I be in shape?

Much like my old “diet” – exercise is something else I just sort of improvised over the years.  Sure I went to the gym (pretty regularly last year in fact) – but I had no strategy in place.  I kept no records of what I was doing, nor of my progress (assuming I had any).  I’d run on the treadmill for 30 minutes, then go hit up some free-weights and a variety of machines – whatever was not occupied at the moment.  I’d set the weight to whatever felt good (or whatever vague recollection I had to where I’d set it the previous time) and performed the task till I was tired and moved on to the next random machine until I’d felt my work-out was complete.

As the son of a physical education teacher, I was probably aware this was not a solid strategy.  Beyond the physical danger of performing any strength building exercise without knowledge of proper form – without a strategy in place and measuring your progress, how can you actually accomplish anything?

Again I’ve turned to Steve Kamb over at NerdFitness, and his book “The Rebel Strength Guide” for some strategies for how to proceed on this front.  My goals are simple – burn off fat, maintain muscle and build-up my core strength.  To accomplish this, I plan to hit-up the gym or work-out in my apartment 3 days a week, and then do some type of running, biking or long walk on the off days.  My gym days will be Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday – with aerobic exercises on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and a rest day on Saturday (although sunny Saturday’s in the spring typically find me doing something outside, I don’t anticipate “resting” all that much).

Much of May will be dedicated to developing the habit of working out, as well as learning how to perform various exercises correctly with solid form.  Again Steve has provided a handy guide that takes a lot of the guess work out it.  The exercise philosophy, similar to the diet philosophy is a return to basic concepts.  Weight machines are out - natural motions and body-weight exercises are in.  Push-ups, lunges, dips, chin-ups (eventually) and free-weights will be the core of this strategy.  Equally important will be recording each gym session in a notebook and using that data to make sure I’m always going in a positive direction.  If I did 10 reps last time, I better be able to do at least 11 this time.

I expect it will take at least a month to get back into the mentality that working out is not a chore, but just something that I do.  Making it a priority in my day will be key.  In the past, when time seemed short, working out was often the first item on the task list to be cut.  That has to fundamentally change.  Just like eating lunch or going to sleep at night, working out is a requirement of the day and can no longer be bumped.

BEHAVIOR

Bumping exercise off the day-planner as I just mentioned is a result of my behavior.  I don’t simply mean the actions I take, but my general outlook on everything and where I’m at mentally on any given day.  How one looks at a day greatly impacts what that day will bring.

Typically my week looks like this:

Monday: Not quite ready to start the week, sometimes a bit hung-over from a day of watching football. I avoid meetings on Monday and try to wrap-up things I abandoned on Friday at work.
Tuesday: Oh man – the week is sooo long.  Try to go to gym after work with Rachel, but sometimes I need some pints instead, to power me through the week.
Wednesday: Half-way there…  I’m exhausted, but I can make it.
Thursday: Almost done with the week – perhaps a few pints after work to welcome in Friday.
Friday: Done – thank God!  If it’s sunny at 2pm, my mind is writing an escape plan – I’ll be able to tackle these things on Monday anyhow.  HAPPY HOUR.
Weekend: Extended happy hour.  Clean-up apartment from mess I made during the week.  Take care of work projects that are falling behind and get ready to do it all over again.

It’s amazing how much the day of the week effects my mental outlook on what is possible.  This is all the more confusing considering I work for myself and rarely meet any of my clients in person.  With complete control over my schedule, and the freedom to organize my week as I see fit, I still manage to box myself into the industrial-age schema of a systematic “workweek”.  Mondays feel like Mondays, Fridays feel like Fridays. And throughout this endless march, time is always running out.  On Monday I can’t believe how long the week feels, but by Thursday I am running out of time, and on Friday I’ve resigned myself to the fact that some things just won’t get completed.  All the while I’m not going to the gym, grabbing last-minute meals, and justifying as many pints as I can swallow.

Here’s a little secret though… today was exactly the same as yesterday, and tomorrow will be no different.  The universe sees no difference between a Sunday and Monday.  It’s all in my head.  A day is just a day, and what’s possible in that day is no different at the start of the week then at the end of it.  Weeks don’t end, time does not run out.

So my goal for May is to take control of my time as best as I can.  What should a day look like – not a Monday or a Friday – just a day?  What are the actions and behaviors that must accompany that day, what are the actions and behaviors that should NOT accompany it?  I will need time to prepare 3 delicious meals a day.  I will need an hour to work-out or run.  I need to get solid sleep at night.  I will need to work and earn a living.  I will need time to socialize with friends, and most important, time to reflect on all of this and make certain results are coming through.

The time has come to cut-out the binge drinking and pot-smoking that while I have certainly enjoyed and have no regrets indulging in over the past decade or so, no longer provide the same level of artificial enjoyment they once did. That’s not to say I’m abandoning my vices altogether – quitting cold turkey is a recipe for disaster – but at least for the month of May I’m going to clean up my act and look for healthier alternatives.  In the same way that quitting cigarette smoking and drinking hard liquor greatly improved my health and chances for general survival during my twenties – this next step is vital to transforming my thirties and becoming the individual I’m determined to be.

The party isn’t over – it’s just moving to a nicer venue.

CONCLUSION

So I’m excited about the month ahead.  All of these actions – the blog, the Goals Project, and now this are all aimed at self-awareness and motivating myself to be a better, healthier and stronger individual.  As always, it goes back to that 6th-century spoon in the British Museum with the inscription “Know yourself, and urge yourself ceaselessly.” Mediocrity is a wide, level super-highway crammed with traffic.  I long for a different route and I think I’ve seen it.  I’ll keep you posted.

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A Night At The Oriental Theatre

Written on April 24, 2011 by Greg Spies

oriental

I didn’t grow up in Portland, Oregon.  The first two thirds of my life were spent on the east side of America – and I’m not certain I had even heard of a place called Portland before some friends and I decided to move here.  As such, what little knowledge I possess of the history of this town I have pieced together, either from the one or two native Oregonians I know, OPB programs, or Chuck Palaniuk’s book “Fugitives and Refugees“.

In the lower SE where I live, there are several unique buildings, the purpose or seemingly misplaced grandeur of which I find peculiar, as they often suggest a far greater story then can be observed in their current surroundings.  No building has consumed my imagination more than the 12-story Weatherly Building on the corner of SE Grand & Morrison.  Dominating the SE skyline, it seems oddly alone standing there by itself.  Built in 1926 by ice cream magnate George Warren Weatherly – the building was the anchor of the newly coined “up-town district”.  Eighty-five years later, what remains of any semblance of a district are a few struggling furniture stores and a handful of bars.

There were several things that puzzled me over the years about the Weatherly.  Beyond the obvious questions like “why is it the only tall building in the area?” and “how awesome must those two penthouses at the top be? ” – the one thing that really bothered me was why it seemed as if half the building was missing.  For while the building stretches along the length of Morrison, it reserves itself to the far third of the block along Grand, and drops off from its dozen stories abruptly and with little fanfare on its south facing side, all to make room for a rather uninspired and misplaced parking lot. It seemed an unlikely pair.

orient-streetThen last week while flipping through a book of historic photos of Portland, I came across a remarkable photograph, and discovered it’s true other half, the Oriental Theatre.

It turns out when Mr. Weatherly built his SE tower, he was convinced by movie theater operator Walter Eugene Tebbets, who also ran the Hollywood Theater, to build a massive theater beside it.  In fact, the Oriental Theatre, designed to resemble an East Indian temple, was the second largest theater in Portland, behind Arlene Schnitzer Hall.

Photographs of the interior show a fascinating movie palace, designed by the same pair who built the Bagdad on SE Hawthorne.  Two giant dragons guarded the main staircase, and statues of Hindu gods and the Buddha lined the halls. Intricate carvings and near life-sized statues of elephants and apes adorned the interior pillars of the grand theater hall, reaching towards a domed ceiling and massive chandelier, glowing in the brightness of over 5000  lightbulbs.  The enormous stage was framed by an ornately designed arch, topped with a devilish face, mouth open, fangs revealed – whose eyes would glow when it was show time.

On opening night, a full house excitedly filled the theater, including the mayor who declared while “he had seen more expensive movie houses, he’d never seen a more beautiful one.” The house lights went down, and the orchestra in their pit began playing alongside the giant Wurlitzer organ.  Guests watched Daphne Pollard traipse around in a bathing suit in “The Girl From Everywhere” – a bathing beauty silent comedy of sorts, as well as the Austrian epic “The Moon of Israel“, whose scene portraying the parting of the Red Sea was said to be far greater than it’s American counterpart in “The Ten Commandments“.

After the show, the audience flooded out into the spacious lobby, and then out into the evening air, to grab one of the street cars that ran down Grand and Morrison avenues at the time. All of that is gone now – although construction on new train lines have begun out front of the Weatherly.  The Oriental Theatre was torn down in the spring of 1970, and replaced with the parking lot that still stands there, or sits rather, today. It’s sad to think such a stunning theater was once a few blocks down the street from where I live.

These days, when most things are built with budget and efficiency in mind, it’s hard to imagine an ice cream man would spend nearly half a million dollars in the twenties to build such a wildly beautiful and imaginative movie house.  How wealthy the community must have felt to have such a splendorous structure in its ranks.  That the simple act of going to a movie could transport you, not just on the screen, but in every detail of the experience – from the glow of the neon-lit marquee, to the sheer extravagance of mural lined halls, private lounges, and the vast balcony that overlooked it all.  While we may have gained better sound and 3D effects over the years, something about the experience of going to a movie was also lost, or perhaps just buried under a parking lot in the lower SE.

Some photos from Wikipedia:

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