Up North ~ Life in Minnesota

Yes, it’s that time of year again. It’s the time when a man must boldly stand up and reassert his masculinity. It’s the time when the beardless are derided for no good reason, unless one recalls that they are, in fact, spoiling it for the rest of us. It’s the time when when women and children with sensitive skin begin to shy away from their menfolk, or risk a debilitating case of “whiskerburn.” It’s the time when prepubescent lads idly dream of future glory. I speak of November, beard month. The month of vikings, mountain men, Chuck Norris, and Kenny Rogers. The month where nothing five-bladed, triple-headed, dual-actioned—with or without soothing micro-pulses—must ever touch a real man’s face. The month when the age-old debate—foam or gel— is temporarily rendered irrelevant. If you think you have what it takes, you’re in good company. If not, perhaps all you need is a little inspiration.

If you look closely at CNN.com you’ll find a link to their new beta website. Now I’m not sure what it is, perhaps it’s the lifeless gray background, or the individual boxes for each chunk of content, but I’m not a fan. With the completely disconnected horizontal bar at the top, it almost seems like two different competing pages.

While the content blocks offer clear visual divisions, and an overall “cleaner” look, the beta offers a lot less content (in terms of headlines). While I’m glad to see that CNN continues to refine its style, I’m not sure they’ve ever managed to concoct anything completely pleasing. With every redesign they manage to fixate on stuff that, to my eyes, already seems dated and bland. I’m usually one of the first to say “it’s the content, stupid,” but I have to admit that I find myself wishing they’d come up with something a little prettier.

I accidentally rented a horrible movie this weekend. I say “accidentally” in the sense that the description on the case didn’t indicate one of my most despised movie devices—the “dream” or “unreality” theme. This is the lazy screenwriter’s ticket to freedom. It opens up all possibilities because there are essentially no rules, and no point. You show 10 minutes of Character X living life normally, then suddenly he/she is plunged into this unbelievable nightmare where nothing is as it seems.

While the audience (me) is hoping, and praying, that this is building to some sort of revelation, Character X is plagued with a seemingly random assortment of strange happenings. It’s easy to find clues to Character X’s predicament where no clues exist. So while you’re pondering, piecing together your own much better ending, the filmmakers unveil that Character X is in a comatose state, lying in some hospital. Shortly after the first 10 minutes of reality, something bad happened, and Character X slipped into this never-ending nightmare. Yippee!

This same basic formula has been used countless times, with few variations, and little originality. It should have been retired long ago, however, every year some inspired hack gets crazy ideas for scenes and probably doesn’t have the creativity to piece them together without resorting to the dreaded “dream” bit. Since this is reality, all I can hope for is that they do a better job of writing the synopsis, so that I may gleefully avoid it.

While I’m still somewhat at a loss as to how to deal with a design thief, I can’t help feeling a bit buoyant. After all, someone in this great big world felt strongly enough about my design to reuse it almost image for image. Despite feeling mildly vindicated as a designer, I’m also confused and upset. I spent a lot of time working on this site, time I could have spent with my family, and some random German comes along and benefits from it without expending one ounce of effort. Beyond that, this gentleman’s guestbook contains a compliment or two on the “beautiful design.” Why should someone else get the credit?

I’m not one to anger easily. I’ve also gained a modicum of confidence in 12 years of designing for the web. Although I’ll most likely just let this post stand as a record of this regrettable act and move on, I would appreciate suggestions.

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The hunt begins

About this time last year, I began the hunt for a very elusive prey–the perfect online calendar. Weeks of fruitless Google searching returned the usual suspects, MSN and Yahoo, and a handful of raw, plucky newcomers. I was fairly intrigued with Kiko, Planzo, and CalendarHub, and I alloted them each a few days of dutiful consideration. While I’m pretty particular about features, I’m a real pain-in-the-ass when it comes to aesthetics. I want my online apps to be functional and attractive. Something that is lacking key features, is hard to use, or hard to look at, definitely won’t earn a more or less permanent place in my personal pantheon of Firefox tabs. Although I realized that I have some serious personality flaws, I couldn’t quite bring myself to continue using any of these promising, but inadequate options.

Along comes 30 Boxes

Sometime after resigning myself to a life without the joys and benefits of online calendaring, I stumbled across a little project with the all too appropriate name of 30 Boxes. 30 Boxes was refreshing. It was simple and beautiful, yet robust and powerful. Honestly, it was as close to perfection as any mortal (or triumvirate of mortals, in this case) should dare hope to achieve.

Google, as prophesied

Well into my second month of blissful enchantment with this Cinderella of calendar applications, Google decided to unveil its own, much anticipated offering. Since I’ve already illuminated a few of my character faults, I see no reason for dissembling this one. I love Google. Back in the day, when absolutely no one had heard of them, and everyone I knew used either AltaVista or Lycos for search, I was wild-eyed about Google. I rabidly advocated Google, proselytizing the eager, huddled masses sickened by increasingly complex interfaces and poor results. Google hit the mainstream, and I have smugly, silently muttered the requisite “told you so” after each of the company’s many triumphs. I fully expected their calendar to be better. I imagined they, with their infinite resources and top-notch talent, had crossed that infinitesimally fine line separating near-perfection and absolute sublimity. I was wrong.

My switch to Google’s calendar came with little fanfare. No fireworks followed my treacherous leap. I endured some gentle ribbing from colleagues who were still under 30 Boxes‘ sway, but I quickly learned the various idiosyncrasies this new calendar offered. I made myself at home, confident that I was fated to use Google products until the end of time. Months later, Google calendar was unchanged. Still the solid, reliable performer, but boring. 30 Boxes, however, had added innumerable features. Improving each week–each day–by responding to feedback from loyal fans. E-mail integration, to do lists, tags, themes, buddy updates… the list invariably continues. A vibrant, living community/calendar lovingly crafted by three dedicated people and a horde of admirers. What’s not to love?

Redemption at last

So, this Cinderella story closes with the befuddled, but well-meaning anti-hero switching back to 30 Boxes. Undiminished by his travails, he vows to steadfastly promote 30 Boxes with all the vim and vigor he once afforded Google. But this is still the beginning of the tale for 30 Boxes. If you need a beautiful, feature-rich online calendar, 30 Boxes is it. I’m sure they would appreciate your support.

Most everyone I acquaint with knows that I’ve been taking some photos with vintage film cameras. The people that I talk to often also realize that my favorite is the Argus C3. I paid 20 bucks for the Argus, and another 20 for a telephoto lens. My dilemma now is that I’ve been searching high and low for an attachable viewfinder that will allow me to better utilize the lens—without success. The few that I’ve seen on Ebay have sold for around $60. For some reason, I have a hard time stomaching the thought of paying three times as much for a clip-on viewfinder than I did for the entire camera. Maybe that’s to be expected in the vintage camera world, but still…

Shop around and get it all

If you’re in the market for a film camera, I suggest you get all the auxiliary doodads and whatchamacallits immediately. Otherwise you’ll spend your days cruising Ebay, growing ever more frustrated with each failed bid. If you plan to buy, be patient and make sure you’re getting a good deal from a reputable seller. Research the camera beforehand and find out if lenses, flashes, batteries, etc., are readily available. Once you’re satisfied, purchase and enjoy.