Sunday, October 19, 2008

Is This How Hester Prynne Felt?

I'm cursed. I readily admit it. I mean, when you're a Cubs fan, you learn to take the bad with the good. Or, as is usually the case on the north side, the bad with the lousy, the inept, and the brutal.

Like most Cubs fans, I've grown accustomed to failure. However, I think all of Cubdom thought this year would be different.

And, as usual, we were wrong.

Thinking that this year was going to be the year, I decided to grow a playoff beard. Sure, the playoff beard is a hockey concept, but heck, the Blackhawks hired John McDonough from the Cubs, and he immediately won over the NHL to turn the Friendly Confines into the Frozen Confines on 1/1/09. Why not make a further connection, however tenuous?

So, I stopped shaving on September 20th, the day that the Cubs clinched the division. That day, I was smiling big, because the Cubs were in the playoffs, and I might have an excuse to not shave for as long as six weeks. As I boarded a plane at SFO bound for Tokyo on October 1st, I was bummed that I'd be missing that day's game. But, as I stroked my still-filling-out beard, I took consolation in the fact that the Cubs had their most competitive team in decades, that they matched up well with the Dodgers, and that they had a solid pitching staff and offense which could hopefully offset a bad performance from one or the other.

(As an aside, I found that stroking one's beard prompts a surprisingly contemplative mood, which I'm guessing contributes to the high percentage of renowned bearded philosophers. That, or sheer laziness.)

Again, I was wrong. Wrong. I'm obviously not The Fonz.

When I woke up a couple of hours before landing at Narita, I asked one of the flight attendants if she could ask the flight deck to find out what the Cubs had done. Needless to say, I wasn't happy with the news, but this was a rock-solid ballclub, one which could (and should) bounce back from this temporary setback. Heck, they'd be sleeping in their own beds, then playing in front of their beloved fans, at the most historic park in the National League. The game two effort would obviously be much better, right?

Wrong. Instead, the Cubs turned into the Keystone Kops. Decent Little League teams don't make 4 errors in one game. Unfortunately, when the clock strikes October and the Cubs are still playing, they turn into something much worse than a decent Little League team.

I spent that Friday (Thursday evening U.S. time) at a trade show outside Tokyo. When I bumped into one of my colleagues, he asked what the beard was about. I explained that it was a playoff beard, that I wouldn't be shaving until the Cubs exited the playoffs, and that the Cubs needed every little bit of help they could get. Shortly thereafter, I used another colleague's computer to hop on the web, where I saw that the unraveling had begun.

By the time the final pitch was thrown at Chavez Ravine on Saturday (a rainy Osaka Sunday), I was ready with shaving cream and a razor. For a few minutes, I actually thought of keeping the beard through the end of the World Series, as punishment for being a Cubs fan. My own personal hairshirt, if you will.

That idea lasted about 30 seconds. However, I did leave the mustache intact for Sunday evening. If you've ever seen me with a mustache (and I can all but guarantee you haven't), you'd know that I look like hell with a 'stache; with a face made for radio, the last thing I need to do is call any more attention to myself. Walking around Kyobashi on Sunday night, I kept touching my upper lip, reminding myself that this was my own little form of penance for being a Cubs fan. As soon as I woke up Monday morning, the mustache came off, too. So much for the penance. I really wanted pennants.

When I jumped on the Internet Monday morning Osaka time, I learned that my mustache wasn't the only thing that'd come off--Cubs fans' gloves had, too. Cubdom is well-accustomed to failure. Unlike Daniel Burnham, who crafted Chicago's master plan and made it the beautiful city it is today, Cubs fans have a well-earned tendency to make very little plans, not the big ones of which Burnham spoke.

But, holy cow. Cubs fans were PISSED. It's one thing for your lover to not show up at the church, as has been the case for the Cubs and their fans for the last century. It's an entirely different thing altogether for the lover to be at the altar, just about to utter the sacred vows and slip on the ring, and have that lover go screaming from the church like a frightened kindergartner with his hair on fire. Notwithstanding the Cubs foldo in 1969, Chicago hasn't witnessed a collapse on this scale since October of 1871. I was surprised to see the vitriol not just in the Chicago papers, but spread out across the Internet--coverage from national media outlets spoke volumes about the mindset of the Cubs fan in October, 2008. Hell hath no fury like a lover scorned, and oh, was Cubdom scorned.

Luckily (?), I was spared the ignominy of actually being in the Windy City when the Cubs collapsed. Regardless of my physical location, having my brain still inside my head was self-flagellation enough; I didn't need to be in the U.S. to be annoyed with the team (for their lackluster play), myself (for being a Cubs fan), or my parents (for not dropping me on my head when I was a child, in hopes that I might've rooted for, uh, the Reds or something). I was despondent enough, even though I was more than 6500 miles from Wrigley Field.

By then, the e-mails had started to pour in, expressing condolence over the Cubs' loss (my loss!), and asking how I was going to cope. Well, being so far away from Chicago helped, just as being in Stockholm (4300 miles away from Comiskey Park) helped me cope with the success of that other team a few years ago. That, and scotch. But, I think the toughest part was when my colleague I'd been speaking with in Tokyo saw me in Osaka on Tuesday morning; his first words were "Huh...the Cubs lost?" He wasn't looking for a fight, and he wasn't trying to be a smart-ass--he had no idea that the Cubs had washed out of the series, but by seeing me clean-shaven, he knew. THAT hurt...having a guy who's not a baseball fan recognize, 5500 miles from where we both live (the Bay Area), that all of Cub fandom was in for another long winter. Ugh.

At the time, I hadn't given too much thought to what things were going to be like when I returned home. Certainly, Hurricane Manny and his brethren had decimated Cubdom, but this wasn't a real hurricane. However one might categorize a broken heart, any pieces we as fans needed to pick up were virtual, not physical.

Returning home on October 10th, the League Championship Series was underway in each league. As a baseball fan, I've certainly been watching over the last week, but with no real sense of attachment. I mean, I'm a baseball fan. This is what I do--watch baseball (although I've found it more enjoyable to use the SAP button during the Fox broadcasts...I prefer a language I don't really understand to Tim McCarver).

Theoretically, my own personal season and involvement in baseball in 2008 ended almost two weeks ago in L.A. But, realistically, I never stop being a baseball fan. By the time the holidays roll around each year, I'm already counting the days till pitchers and catchers report--and by "holidays", I mean Halloween, not Christmas. While I expected that this off-season might be a little tougher than every other since I've been old enough to realize I'm cursed, I really hadn't given it any thought.

Until Friday.

I went to the gym to do my regular Friday morning group exercise class. The mix of the 30-35 attendees is mostly women (with a few guys scattered in for good measure), and is probably half American-born, half overseas-born. Generally, not what I'd consider a room of knowledgeable baseball folks--which is why I felt no compunction about wearing my 2007 Cubs playoffs t-shirt.

Now, I'm going to assume it's merely coincidence, but the word "CUBS" is written in dark red capital letters on the shirt. Not precisely scarlet, but close. In typical Cubs fashion, we get four times as many chances to be recognized as that other gal--Hester Prynne only had to carry a single letter. Our burden, fourfold. I'm going to guess that in Chicago, whether your mood as a Cubs fan over the last two weeks has been misery, angst, or anger, at least Cubdom has had a chance to commiserate with each other. Here in the Bay Area, that's a little tougher to do.

So, back to my point. Before, during, and after the gym class, people kept staring at my chest. (Likely the closest I'll ever come to knowing what it feels like to be a woman.) This wasn't the comedic equivalent of wearing "kick me" on my shirt. This was genuine pity. I might as well have been wearing a flashing neon sign saying "sucker", although even then, I'm not sure I would've drawn the same attention as I had from my fellow gymsters, a mix of folks from early 20s to their 70s; big, small, and everywhere in between; natives, migrants, sports fans, and not.

I don't know if I was more surprised that this motley crew of exercisers knew about the Cubs and their collapse; that they seemed to feel pity for me, which I could see in the eyes of each person who read my shirt; or that I ended up being so self-conscious about all those eyes upon me for wearing my own version of a scarlet letter.

Regardless, until now, I've never before been ashamed of being a Cubs fan, and I saw some brutal baseball in the late 80s and early 90s, when I'd be one of only a few hundred fans in the bleachers during rainy, 45-degree mid-April games. But hey, we were Cubs fans. We were there to watch baseball. We didn't expect to see good baseball (from the home team, at least), nor did we have any kind of expectations for our beloved club. Sure, division championships in '84 and '89 gave folks a little bit of hope, but it was more a case that we were happy we'd received an invite to the party, rather than they'd run out of booze after we'd been there awhile.

But man, this sucks. The biggest problem with setting expectations is that you gotta live up to 'em. Tampa went into the season with no expectations, and they're going to the World Series. The Cubs need to start living up to their expectations, and soon.

I don't have another century to spare.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Hands-on with the Google G1

One of the neat things about living in Silicon Valley is that sometimes mere proximity enables experimentation.

I've been doing a ton of work lately with DD-WRT and Tomato, two versions of open source firmware for consumer networking devices. I'm absolutely geeked about how much cool stuff I can do with these community-developed pieces of software. To think that there's a huge crowd of developers around the world contributing to projects like DD-WRT is pretty awe-inspiring.

Closer to home, equally awe-inspiring is how many innovate tech names, both big and small, are within 15 minutes of me. I'm fortunate that living in Mountain View, I have access to the Google Wi-Fi network which blankets the community. No, it's not my primary connection at home, but it's pretty cool to be able to fire up my MacBook just about anywhere in town and get on the Internet, for free. Just for giggles, I set up a router/AP running DD-WRT to serve as a repeater for the Google Wi-Fi network, to get signal into the house. The standard mechanism to do so has been the use of a Ruckus Wireless access point, but I found that I could do the same thing (and more) with a $30 router instead. Way cool.

So, back to my initial point about living here in Silicon Valley. I wouldn't have been able to do this in a lot of places, but yesterday I managed to get my hands on the Google G1, which ships on the 22nd. Many others have commented on features and limitations of the G1 from a services and connectivity standpoint, so I'll stay away from those topics here. I didn't have nearly enough time to do what I'd consider an exhaustive review, but a few items immediately come to mind, particularly from an ergonomic standpoint.

First, the device itself isn't as big and clunky as I'd expected it to be. Having owned a number of HTC devices (running Windows CE/Mobile), I've found HTC's typical industrial designs to be anything but alluring. And, while I wouldn't call the G1 sexy, I would call it reasonably cool. When the G1 was announced, I read something about this being a 2 1/2 year old HTC hardware design. I'm not sure I'd call the design that dated, but in a world of iPhones and Bolds, I think that the G2 (and other Android-based devices from HTC and other manufacturers) will catch up with the rest of the market soon.

Second, the screen's swing-out-and-up mechanism screams "Andy Rubin" (the man behind Android), in a good way. I was a huge fan of my original Sidekick, despite its shortcomings. Having used a bunch of HTC, Palm, Nokia, and BlackBerry devices, I still believe that the Sidekick (designed by Danger, which was founded by Andy Rubin and Joe Britt) was the best-designed device I've ever used. From the way the G1 screen slides out and up, I'm a little concerned about the long-term durability of the screen-device connector and interface, but only time will tell. After only a few minutes of playing with it, I liked it.

As a number of other reviewers have said, the G1's screen isn't particularly compelling from a visual standpoint. The size is decent, and the touch capabilities are nice, but the resolution is pretty underwhelming--having spent time on a BlackBerry Bold a couple of weeks ago, the G1 pales in comparison. Then again, so does everything else, including the iPhone--the Bold's screen is that good.

Regarding the touch screen, I've found that the trackball on my BlackBerry Curve provides me more than sufficient navigational capability, so much that I never yearn for a touch screen. When I made the move from a Palm device to a BlackBerry a few years back, it probably took me two weeks to fully break the habit of touching the screen. When I moved from my 8700 to my 8320 a year ago, it only took a couple of days to shed the habit of the scroll wheel in favor of the trackball. Net-net, I'm not really a touch screen guy, and don't find myself wanting one.

But, after about two minutes with the G1, I found myself instinctively using the touch screen for icon-based navigation. The G1's trackball is well-located, and readily enables one to use the trackball, touchscreen, or both. After three years or so of not using a touch screen, the design of the G1 had me thumbing away merrily.

Not so merry for me is the design of the keyboard. I'm a little surprised that with only a couple of exceptions (notably Walt Mossberg, as you might expect), other reviewers haven't mentioned this. Any transition to a new device requires some time to get used to; whether it's a new computer, cell phone, or TV remote, anything that necessitates input is going to have a learning curve. However, I'm a little fearful that the design of the G1 is going to result in repetitive stress injuries. Seriously. Typing with the left hand is pretty simple; coming over from a BlackBerry, getting used to key placement would take a little while, but I have no qualms that I'd get used to it. Typing with the right hand is my concern. If you look at the picture, you'll see that the navigation base (my term...I have no idea what it's really called) that's the bottom of the phone when held vertically makes for a big speed bump when held horizontally. Just about every QWERTY mobile device I've ever used has been balanced, with a reasonably even 50/50 weight distribution between hands. Not so with the G1. Because the G1 has the navigation base between your thumb and the keyboard, you end up having to reach waaaaay over to get to the keys, particularly the space bar. I'm a fast, accurate typist on my BlackBerry. And, while I'm certain that I'd get used to the G1's keyboard over time, I fear that I'd end up with a dislocated wrist and a really long thumb--the latter handy for hitchhiking, but not so helpful otherwise.

So, while I'm not going to run out and get a G1 on launch day, I do have a couple of final thoughts.

First, this is really an admirable 1.0 product; congratulations are in order for the Google and HTC teams. Delivering a product this comparatively well-designed at launch is no small effort; hell, look at how long Motorola has been making cell phones, and they still can't come up with a decent user interface.

Second, the fact that this is a six-band phone should be useful for a lot of users. My cell coverage at home on T-Mobile's 1900 MHz band is absolutely abysmal, but my 1700 MHz coverage on their new 3G band (which I've been testing with a Nokia handset) is really solid. Plus, inclusion of the 2100 MHz band makes the phone functional in Japan, which remains an Achilles heel for most U.S. cell phones.

Third, have I mentioned I really don't like the keyboard ergonomics?

Finally, and most importantly, I'm totally stoked about the potential for the worldwide developer community to deliver Android-based applications which pervert (in the best possible sense of the word) the G1 and future Android handsets for the customization and benefit of all. If you'd told me 5 1/2 years ago when I bought my first Linksys WRT54G that in late 2008 I'd be loading the router with newly updated open source firmware, enabling VPNs, VLANs, wireless repeating, Xbox connectivity, and much more, I'd've probably said you were crazy. But, lo and behold, that's what I'm doing. And, with 5 more routers sitting here waiting for experimentation with OpenVPN, wireless DLNA DMS serving, and much more, I'll continue to reap the benefits of the open source movement for years to come.

So too will Android users. A truly open platform enabling innovation from a worldwide community of developers will lead to awesome capabilities, more consumer choice, better carrier competition, and (hopefully) lower monthly phone bills. The G1 is a shot across the bow of the iPhone 3G, the Bold and the Storm, and every other smart (and dumb) phone. No, it's not perfect yet--far from it. But, just as my original WRT54G wasn't perfect, it's gotten a lot better with time. You've come a long way, Baby.

Android has a long way to go, but it'll get there. It's off to a great start.

Monday, September 22, 2008

DLNA + Power Line?

I seem to answer one question per calendar quarter on LinkedIn; today appears to be the day for this quarter's answer. Find the question and the response here.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Is the Bullshit of the Month Award Back?

I haven't given out the Bullshit of the Month award since early this year, as organizations seem to have focused on more important things than bogus press releases and disingenuous comments. You know, items like a global financial meltdown and the pending U.S. election--the former caused by bullshit, the latter a huge producer thereof.

But, I woke up this morning to a story in Crain's Chicago Business that set off the BS meter. In a nutshell, the hullabaloo is that public access channels (PEGs, for Public, Education, and Government) on the AT&T U-Verse IPTV system are grouped under a single program guide channel (99). According to Greg Hinz's article, viewers who want to watch a PEG have to navigate first to channel 99, then to a menu of PEGs. This is a big departure from the way things work on traditional cable systems, where the PEGs show up as standard channels in the program guide, leaving some number of viewers up in arms. A quasi-government group has claimed that for AT&T to make the PEGs look like regular channels, it'd cost $200k per channel. That's not per metropolitan area or headend. That's per channel. And that's mind-boggling.

Now, if you know me, you know that I'd rather watch ESPN Classic Deportes 6 than watch most PEG content. As Hinz notes, satellite providers don't have to carry PEG channels; as a DirecTV subscriber, I remain blissfully unaware of the activities of both my city council and my local high school sports teams. Even if PEGs were available to me, I'd turn them off on my program guide, just as I do other channels that don't interest me. But, back in Chicagoland, The Folks watch my alma mater's football and baseball games on a (Comcast) PEG channel, even if they've been to the game. They'll even TiVo them occasionally, which certainly gives me pause.

Pun intended.

But, I'm having trouble grokking how putting up a PEG channel can cost $200k. Sure, there's the burden of encoders and ingestion and transport and grooming and lots of other shtuff in the IPTV delivery chain. Plus, AT&T's not exactly a small company, so I wouldn't be surprised if lots of those unlocked iPhones floating around China and Russia are being amortized by the TV guys.

The article quotes the executive director of one of affected PEG channels as saying that AT&T could rejigger their system to allow PEG channels to appear inline in the program guide, which is the status quo on traditional (QAM-delivered) Chicago cable systems. On the other hand, the Congressional Research Service issued a report yesterday that makes the $200k per channel claim; extrapolated to the entire Chicago area, that's $40 million alone. Frankly, maybe both sides are right. I don't know how many markets U-Verse has launched in, but at tens of millions of dollars per DMA to add PEGs, that's a dealbreaker. I'm not entirely certain I trust the CRS, due to their almost total lack of transparency, despite being a publicly-funded think tank. These aren't black programs, for Pete's sake. AT&T quotes yesterday's CRS report, but like so many things CRS, the report isn't publicly available; AT&T could do themselves a huge PR favor by making the CRS report available for broad public distribution. Since OpenCRS doesn't have their hands on it yet, I can't actually determine how CRS arrived at this $200k number.

Here's what I can't get my arms around. IPTV is a terribly flexible system...arguably, way more flexible than traditional QAM-delivered cable systems. In theory, IPTV systems can deliver an unlimited number of channels to a user, since the user is simply tuning to a multicast stream, rather than needing access to an entire broadcast program tier over a (let's say) 860 MHz QAM plant, which is restricted by available bandwidth. Cable's migration from analog to digital has allowed a multi-fold increase in terms of the number of channels which can be squashed into this limited number of 6 MHz slots; of course, the evolution from standard definition to high definition has given back some of that benefit, but the world's still a better place now.

The question becomes, is AT&T's architecture not flexible enough to allow additional channels into the program guide? Is the program guide real estate too valuable to allow slots to be cluttered up with PEG channels? I'm sure I'm gonna annoy the PEG crowd with this statement, but I don't see PEG viewers driving the type of CPMs AT&T's ad sales team is looking for, so maybe that's a contributing factor to the $200k per channel number.

Maybe it's not AT&T's fault at all. I left Microsoft's TV group a whole bunch of years ago, so I'm not sure what their platform capabilities are these days, but I guess it's possible that the Microsoft TV platform on which U-Verse is based isn't capable of easily doing add/drop of PEG channels. Heck, who knows. I do know that I've seen DLNA program guide demos which seamlessly integrate broadcast television, video-on-demand, IP video (e.g., YouTube) and in-home content (from a PC or network-attached storage device) into a single user interface, so it's at least possible to prototype, if not actually deliver today.

Maybe this is all the FCC's fault, on multiple levels. I'm sure that the cable guys would love to not be carrying PEG channels today, just as the satellite guys aren't; but, the FCC requires cable to carry PEG, while satellite isn't mandated to--and with no mandate, there's no reason to burn the transponder space. You can argue (fruitlessly) all day about the franchise rights of IPTV carriers vs. cable vs. satellite vs. Verizon FiOS, which is a QAM-IPTV hybrid. And, based on where you stand in terms of PEG carriage, NFL Sunday Ticket or MLB Extra Innings carriage, net neutrality, et.al., you likely have an opinion on must-carry. You may've even expressed that opinion to the FCC. Maybe you even want a la carte pricing--which to me is a crock, but that's a discussion for another time.

Here's another statement that'll come across as heretical to the PEG crowd, but I'm throwing it out there--maybe the time for local must-carry has simply passed, and the FCC needs to throw out the mandate altogether. Would I advocate that? No way--while I might be apathetic about the content available on PEG, I know how passionately lots of folks are when it comes to being able to view their local content. I'm also not naive enough to believe (as do many friends and colleagues here in Silicon Valley) that this type of content should be solely delivered over the Internet. First, the computer is the wrong venue for public access television; having it available on-demand from the Internet is great, but I really think that PEG content is TV content. Second, the audience for this type type of content may not own a computer, have broadband access, or both, but I do think it's a fair trade-off to require public service providers to have to make content available on TV in exchange for local franchise rights. Finally, public interest content is intended to be available to all. The problem is, the FCC mandate requiring cable, but not satellite, to carry PEGs already provides one massive exception, so maybe AT&T is to be congratulated for providing any type of PEG carriage at all, despite the fact that it's not easy to find and impossible to record. I simply don't know.

Heck, maybe I'm not even calling bullshit on AT&T. Maybe I'm just calling bullshit on the Congressional Research Service for that $200k per channel figure. Am I the only one that finds ironic the alternate meaning for their acronym, CRS?

Can't remember shit.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Sure, Bandwidth Caps Suck. But…

Outside of perhaps Comcast’s shareholders and employees, I can’t imagine that anyone’s happy about the recently-instituted 250 gigabyte per month bandwidth cap. But, I gotta tell ya, I understand where they’re coming from.

Here’s an analogy for you. Ever been on an airplane? Ever sat next to a “person of size”? Did you wish that person had purchased an extra seat so you weren’t having your space invaded? Or, have you ever had to sit with your legs so tightly jammed against the seat in front of you that you thought you’d die of DVT before landing?

Somewhere along the line, maybe you’ve paid extra to reserve a premium seat, giving you more legroom and/or shoulder room, as well as better service. Last week was a pretty good example. On my United flight from ORD to SFO, I purchased the cheapest possible economy ticket. If I’d been stuck in a standard UA economy seat, I’d’ve been bummin’, as United’s standard seat pitch is fiscally responsible (for them) but physically uncomfortable (for most fliers). Fortunately, over the years, I’ve earned the right to move into a better seat in Economy Plus (E+), providing an extra 4-6 inches of legroom, which makes a massive difference in comfort and productivity. Flying enough BIS (butt-in-seat) miles affords me Economy Plus access whenever I’m on United, but E+ is also a purchase option for those who want a little more legroom but haven’t flown enough to have earned the right to move forward. In this case, paying extra gets you a little more.

The morning of my flight, my upgrade request cleared, enabling me to move up to first class on that particular two-class airplane. If I’d chosen to leave 90 minutes earlier, I’d’ve moved up to business class on a three-class airplane. In either case, some portion of the folks in the forward cabin/s paid more for their tickets to ensure that they’d receive the best seats and service on the airplane. Again, pay more, get more. Other folks paid for upgrades, allowing them to move up for less than the cost of a revenue first/business class ticket. Still others (of whom I was one) burned upgrades earned by flying so many BIS miles. Regardless of how the two dozen of us in that particular first class cabin moved up, we were all up there by choice (no op-ups, with about a dozen opens in the back). And, regardless of what we paid, we all received the benefit of extra leg and shoulder room, as well as a better passenger service ratio.

Frankly, I don’t see the implementation of bandwidth caps being any different.

Airlines have a finite amount of capacity on a given airplane; they need to monetize that capacity in the best way possible. If having two people of size in a three-person row prevents a third person from sitting reasonably in that row’s third seat (leading to the airline’s inability to provide customer #3 the seat and space for which they’ve paid), that’s a problem, which has led most airlines to create policies governing people of size. Anyone, regardless of size, can choose to purchase a ticket providing additional room on most airlines; on airlines without premium cabins (e.g., Southwest), you can purchase two tickets to ensure sufficient space. Because, after all, that’s what airlines are really selling--space to get you from point A to point B. You can pay more, you can pay less, you can redeem miles for different classes of service. Options abound. But, net-net, you’re buying space to take you from one location to another.

Well, guess what? Just like an airplane only has so many seats, service provider pipes only have so much capacity--and spare me any discussion about DWDM and lambdas and such. Service providers are trying to run a business, too. Yes, we’re all yearning for more bandwidth to do whatever it is we do on the Internet. And, we’ve now reached the point that we’re gonna have to start paying for that bandwidth, in fashion little different from classes of service on an airplane.

Am I sticking up for Comcast? Hardly. But, a monthly 250 GB cap is a pretty hefty amount of traffic for today’s Internet use. Using up 8 gigabytes a day is a whole lot of Internet surfing and e-mail.

What’s that, you say? People are doing more than just web surfing and e-mailing on the Internet these days?

Uh, right.

Here's the challenge--Comcast has stated that today, fewer than 1% of their user base approaches the 250 GB per month number. My parents are unlikely to hit that number anytime soon, maybe ever. Me? Heck, I could hit that number next month if I wanted to, but I don't currently have a compelling application to do so. I mean, I'd have to keep my AT&T ADSL line darn-near saturated; at the average speeds I get (1.2 mb/s down, 300 kb/s up), I might end up melting the copper to get to 250 GB in a month, but I could do it.

The question is, how? Well, I certainly know of people who've dedicated one of their home PCs to do nothing but run a torrent client 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. So, yes, they're the people who're in that 1%. Some/many of those 1% are downloading movies encoded in high definition video formats; I recently watched an HD movie being served from a network-attached storage device over a wireless home network at a colleague's house, and I gotta tell ya, it was awesome--serious geek envy, particularly since the double-whammy of living in a Faraday Cage in RF-saturated Mountain View makes even basic 802.11 connectivity at our home less than reliable. If my colleague would have downloaded that 8 gigabyte file over an Internet connection, he would've wiped out his day's Comcast Internet allotment with a single movie.

Which sucks.

But, again, I understand that Comcast is trying to balance a given amount of resource for a given price. Not to use the old parental adage of one bad apple spoiling the bunch, but the 99% of folks who aren't using 250 GB of traffic aren't the issue here.

Now, lest you think I've lost my mind and am defending the implementation of bandwidth caps, here are a couple of other thoughts.

First, a 250 GB cap is actually a pretty darned good number to start with. Time Warner is testing a 40 GB cap on their high-end ($55/month) offering. If you think you're gonna hate 250 GB per month, you'd really hate 15% of that. You'd also hate the much-lower-than-250 GB limit from Rogers, Bell Canada, Frontier, and lots of other providers who've implemented caps.

So, in my mind, the issue isn't, how do we vilify Comcast (or other providers who've instituted caps)? The issue is, how can we figure out a mechanism to allow those who want a huge (or unlimited) amount of access to actually pay for it, while not unfairly burdening the 90% or more of people who aren't what one might politely call "bandwidth hogs"?

Again, with today’s Internet, my parents aren't going to come near a 250 GB monthly cap, nor will I; those who want to consume that kind of bandwidth simply need to pay accordingly. If you’re in the top 1% of those consuming bandwidth, you’re gonna have to buy a first class ticket for all that leg and shoulder room, Dom Perignon, and caviar.

But, what happens when we start to see more HD video coming in over the Internet? A few hours a day of Internet-delivered HD video will destroy a 40 GB per month cap. A few more hours will wipe out that 250 GB cap.

Heck, I can't wait till the day that I can sit in the living room watching my network-attached TV; browse a program guide showing me offerings on my local set-top box, home network-attached storage devices, and broadcast/Internet video; and fire up those video/audio/photo offerings instantaneously, no matter where the content originates. This is the promise of DLNA, the promise of the connected home, the promise of over-the-top HD video delivered via the Internet, you name it. I've seen demos of this type of integrated guide from folks like Macrovision, and I want it. Now.

At that point, hell yes, I'm going to use 8 GB a day of traffic. On any given Sunday, I could envision chewing up 30-50 GB of traffic simultaneously watching multiple channels of baseball or football all day.

If The Wife would let me, of course. Now, where the hell did she hide the remote?

Last night, as I was goofing around with my Verismo PoD, I was pondering how much video I might consume given the opportunity to seamlessly blend a traditional TV viewing experience with the immediacy of watching anything I wanted over the Internet. Sure, video-on-demand has been around for years, but your provider has to have the content you want on their network for you to (reasonably seamlessly) access it--the flip side being that provider VOD comes with the dual benefit of A) not counting against your bandwidth cap, and B) not infringing on any network neutrality issues.

Looking at a different form of video-on-demand, Apple TV has been out for more than a year; the latest instantiation allows you to not just watch Internet video (and enjoy your own content), but also pay to watch movies over the Internet. The Netflix Roku box takes things one step further, not from a capabilities standpoint per se, but because the box only costs $99, making it an impulse purchase for many households.

The Apple and Netflix boxes are particularly interesting in an age of bandwidth caps. By bringing the promise of premium content into the home at a moment’s notice, they all but guarantee additional consumption of content from, and revenue for, Hollywood studios. I haven’t seen concrete numbers on incremental consumption for those Netflix customers who have a Roku box versus those who don’t, but it’s a safe guess that those who have the box are watching more movies, while generating more money for Netflix and the studios--and eating up more bandwidth per month, leading to an interesting future promotion, "three bucks for a movie and a three gig rebate". Or something like that.

Moving forward, does this presage a world where users are hitting their bandwidth caps every month due to consumption of IP video, either via file download or real-time streaming? Great question, particularly in light of announcements just in the last two weeks—Amazon allowing video downloads with just a web browser, Comcast’s addition of downloading to its previous streaming-only Fancast service, Korea moving away from DVDs as a format in favor of downloaded content, and lots more.

Let’s face it...we’re moving to a world where much of the content we consume is becoming virtualized--either the content itself, the experience, or both. Virtualization is the hot thing in enterprise computing, to enable more efficient use of resources; lots of us also use VM software to enable us to run multiple operating systems on a single personal computer, too. How else would I play Vista Spider Solitaire on my Macbook?

Content consumption is little different. I don’t recall hearing anyone describe the Roku box as a “virtual Netflix DVD”, but in effect, that’s what the experience delivers. In exchange for $99, you get the (admittedly limited selection of) content immediately, without the hassle of little red envelopes and the latency of the postal service—or the need to even own a DVD player. A few years ago, the idea of “virtualized movies” over the Internet was a pipe dream (pun intended). Now, I look at a capability like this and say, sure, this could be in every broadband home in a few years. What’s next? Virtualized high definition broadcast TV, where you don’t need an HD service provider? Virtualized real-time gaming, where you don’t even need to own a console? Heck, if you can dream it, somebody will figure out a way to do it. All you’ll need is a TV and a decent-sized low-latency Internet connection.

HOWEVER…

Bandwidth caps are going to severely limit the ability for broad consumption of many of these new applications. Does this “limit innovation”, as a number of folks have said? No, not at all. Innovators innovate. These transient speed bumps are nothing more than that--innovators figure out how to evade or avoid them. Those who are stopped by speed bumps aren’t innovators. Plus, they’ve probably chopped their cars a little too much.

But, is it fair to say that bandwidth caps can limit applicability and adoption? Yeah, definitely.

So, what’s the solution here? I believe that we’re destined for at least a few years of tiered service offerings that closely resemble your choices in airline travel. Lots of households (e.g., my parents) will choose a basic plan, with a relatively low cap at relatively low prices. That’s relatively no frills economy class, a la Southwest (although that’s not intended to be a knock on Southwest, whom I believe is now the best U.S. carrier, all things considered). Some folks will choose a premium economy class, providing either bigger pipes, a higher bandwidth cap, or both. Service providers who offer triple- or quad-play are in the catbird seat in this category. I could certainly envision a provider offering customers a higher cap or bigger pipe if you also take their digital phone service, television offering, or mobile offering. The analogy? United’s Economy Plus.

For those who want/need the next level up, we move up to the realm of business class service. Think Virgin’s Upper Class--a service head and shoulders above economy, and considered to be well above the competition’s, too. We’re talking quite a bit more money, with quite a bit more benefit. That benefit might come as a result of simply paying more, or you might receive it by buying the full triple-play bundle from your provider—the latter resembling the use of an earned upgrade to get you into business class.

The piece de resistance ends up being first class on a true luxury basis, a la Emirates or Singapore Airlines. For an enormous, massive, ludicrous premium over other classes of service, international first class passengers receive the absolute best possible service an airline can provide. Similarly, the first class offering for service providers would be a big pipe (think 50+ mb/s, via a fiber or DOCSIS 3.0 link) and no bandwidth cap. At that point, the top 1% of traffickers would be paying their own freight, while staying the heck out of the way of everyone else. For the price, first class passengers get a limo ride to the airport, separate check-in and lounge areas, a personal concierge to walk them to the airplane, the utmost level of service on the flight, a shower on the other end, and a whole bunch more--for 20-50x (or more) the price of a coach ticket.

Do I think that a service provider's ultra-premium bandwidth offering will cost 20-50x that of basic service? No, not at all. But, I think it's entirely reasonable for a standard (economy) rate to be ~$25 a month, with tier 2 (premium economy) at ~$50 a month, tier 3 (business) at ~$80 a month, and tier 4 (first) at $200 a month, at least in the U.S. Charging much more guarantees that the U.S. will continue to end up towards the bottom of the top 20 in terms of broadband value. But, not doing anything will continue to have the few screwing up the party for the many. I certainly envy the Japanese, who can get a 100 mb/s link into the home for ~$30 a month, and yearn for the day where we might see a similar offering here.

Two final thoughts to keep in mind.

One, Moore's Law will continue to be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, network gear is going to continue to wring the most possible bandwidth out of a given medium, whether it's fiber or copper. That's great for consumers and providers. The flip side is that all that computing power in the home and accessible via the network is going to continue to put greater and greater demands on the network itself. It's an endless cycle--nature abhors a vacuum.

Two, a simple pendulum will always search for equilibrium. That's in effect what's happening here. Think of bandwidth caps as gravity, an attempt to bring the highest 1% of traffic (ab)users down to earth and into equilibrium. In air, a physical pendulum is affected by atmospheric and mechanical forces--which is precisely what bandwidth caps are.

A drag.


(Full disclosure: I have a consulting relationship with a company in which Comcast has invested; these opinions are solely my own, and in no way necessarily reflect those of my customer or of Comcast)

Thursday, September 4, 2008

The Google Backtrack, and an Interesting Coincidence

Old news by now, but within an hour or so of my post yesterday (and entirely coincidentally, lest I think I have any influence whatsoever anywhere in the world), Google put out a statement that they were going to be pulling back on their Chrome EULA. What I still don't understand is who the megalomaniacal lawyer/s were that thought this was ever a good idea in the first place. This doesn't strike me as a case of accidentally re-purposing one EULA to another.

I mean, this isn't a rarely used application that prints certificates for Cubs World Series attendees. It's a friggin' browser, for Pete's sake. We've all seen way too many cases where Legal and PR don't get together up front, and end up having to endure a firestorm on the back end. But, this is a rare hiccup for Google Legal, one which the PR team is gonna have a tough time erasing anytime soon. The good news for them is that most of the world A) doesn't read EULAs; B) doesn't care about EULAs; and C) lives outside of the geek realm y'all and I live in and probably hasn't even heard about this, so impact is relatively limited.

And now, the interesting coincidence.

As you likely know, Google Alerts is an awesome clipping service. Alerts are typically in my inbox within 15-30 minutes of something hitting the Internet--not just the wire, but generally anywhere on the Internet. That's awesome. I have an alert set up for "mike coop", with my name in quotes to ensure that when my name shows up, I get a ping. This obviously wouldn't work if my name was John Smith, but having a fairly unique name makes it easy to A) ensure that my blog entries have properly posted; B) keep an eye on anyone referring to me, more of a precautionary measure than anything else; and C) see what my fellow Mike Coops are up to, whether we're talking the race car driver, the alderman, or others.

When I post a new item on my blog (hosted by Blogger, who's owned by Google), I typically receive a Google Alert within a half-hour. Yesterday's post on Chrome? Nada. No alert whatsoever. Kind of interesting.

Somewhere, Oliver Stone is nodding.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Google Chrome Review in One Word: EVIL

I was intrigued by Monday's news that Google would be releasing a browser yesterday. While I used both IE and Firefox regularly in my Windows days, I'm exclusively using Safari now that I'm back on a Mac. Safari isn't perfect, but I really don't need more than one browser. Since Chrome is currently available only on the Windows platform, I couldn't give it a shot on OS X, so I cranked up my Fusion Vista virtual machine and installed Chrome.

That's as far as I got.

I'm the rare person who occasionally reads the End User License Agreement, just to ensure that organizations aren't sneaking in anything nefarious--surrender of first-born, follow-on goat hexes on the Cubs, etc. The Chrome EULA is about as scary as anything I've ever read. Here's the part which should chap your ass:

11. Content license from you

11.1 You retain copyright and any other rights you already hold in Content which you submit, post or display on or through, the Services. By submitting, posting or displaying the content you give Google a perpetual, irrevocable, worldwide, royalty-free, and non-exclusive license to reproduce, adapt, modify, translate, publish, publicly perform, publicly display and distribute any Content which you submit, post or display on or through, the Services. This license is for the sole purpose of enabling Google to display, distribute and promote the Services and may be revoked for certain Services as defined in the Additional Terms of those Services.

11.2 You agree that this license includes a right for Google to make such Content available to other companies, organizations or individuals with whom Google has relationships for the provision of syndicated services, and to use such Content in connection with the provision of those services.

11.3 You understand that Google, in performing the required technical steps to provide the Services to our users, may (a) transmit or distribute your Content over various public networks and in various media; and (b) make such changes to your Content as are necessary to conform and adapt that Content to the technical requirements of connecting networks, devices, services or media. You agree that this license shall permit Google to take these actions.

11.4 You confirm and warrant to Google that you have all the rights, power and authority necessary to grant the above license.

Seriously? I mean, seriously? I'm sure I've violated some kind of law just by copying and pasting this text here onto my (Google-hosted) blog. But, c'mon. I get to retain my copyright to stuff I already own (mighty magnanimous of you), but Google gets to pervert it any other way possible? This EULA makes Mapplethorpe's stuff look pedestrian.

Let me get this straight. If I have a photo of someone in Picasa, a photo I took, just by viewing it in Chrome, you Mr. Google receive a perpetual, irrevocable, worldwide, royalty-free, and non-exclusive license to reproduce, adapt, modify, translate, publish, publicly perform, publicly display and distribute any Content which you submit, post or display on or through, the Services. (emphasis mine)

Seriously?

Sure, section 9.4 of the EULA claims that Google has no right/title/interest and/or no IPR to your stuff. And, sure, if it's on the Internet, people can get to it. But having content on the Internet is one thing. Google stepping up and giving themselves the right to pervert that content just because you viewed it in their browser is something else altogether.

I printed the EULA to PDF while I was installing Chrome, but didn't actually read it until after I'd installed and launched the application. Luckily, I hadn't done anything but fire up the app before getting into the EULA idiocy. I immediately deleted Chrome, scrubbed my registry, contemplated throwing away the entire virtual machine (but chose to only roll back to a snapshot), and wondered which of the Sony rootkit genius lawyers Google had hired to advise them on this EULA.

Then I took a hot shower, just for good measure.

I really, really like Google, but I like them less than I did yesterday. I host my blog with Google, I use Google Apps for Your Domain, I use Picasa, yadda, yadda, yadda. I've contemplated paying for Google Apps Premier, just for good measure.

But, whatever happened to "Don't Be Evil"?

Seriously.

Friday, August 22, 2008

New Jawbone battery life

Man, Thursdays suck. Don't get me wrong--generally, they're great, because you're past Hump Day, with only one more day till the weekend. What I really mean is, Thursdays for me require somewhere between six and ten hours on the phone for various standards and customer calls. If I'm at my desk, I do some/most of these calls from a landline. However, if I'm on the road, that means I'm on my BlackBerry and my (no longer so) New Jawbone.

Most days, the 4-4.5 hour talk time of the New Jawbone is sufficient, but on Thursdays, it's a non-starter. So, I've charged up the old Jawbone, and intend to use the original on Thursday from here on out. I used to get 7+ hours out of the original Jawbone when it was new; if I can get 6 these days, it'll be more than worth the extra heft. That said, putting the old Jawbone in my ear feels like the comparative difference between a regular carhop order and something that Fred Flintstone would order.

One more annoying thing--when the New Jawbone dies, there's no dying-man's-last-gasp--i.e., a tone to let you know that the battery's conked out. Nope, just pure silence; I can never tell if that's attributable to the noise canceling capabilities of the other party's headset, or just me being dead in the water.

Yep, the latter. I'm throwing my BlackBerry wired headset in the car just in case...

New Jawbone Carrying Case

I receive a lot of questions about how I carry my Jawbone. Unfortunately, the answers are A) in my pocket, or B) in an outer pocket on whatever bag I'm carrying at that moment. I yearn for the days of my Plantronics 640 and 655, with their nifty carrying cases which clip right into a pocket or shirt placket.

That said, I can make one recommendation for a way to protect your new Jawbone (or other small devices) when traveling. From the never-send-a-boy-to-do-a-man's-job category, the OtterBox 1000 from the eponymous company offers an unparalleled level of protection. If you're a suspenders-and-belt person, the OtterBox 1000 provides an awesome way to mitigate the risk associated with carrying an expensive headset in your pocket/bag. Plus, the 1000 can make the blind-feel-in-bag-for-headset exercise a thing of the past. All too often, I end up digging around in my bag once the plane has landed, trying to locate my Jawbone. When I travel with my 1000, I never have that issue. The 1000 is also fantastic for carrying compact digital cameras; my Canon SD700 IS fits perfectly inside the OtterBox 1000 case. If I'm on a boat or otherwise near water, my camera's in my OtterBox 1000.

Speaking of OtterBox, long-time readers will recall how much I (still) love my black Otterbox Defender case for my BlackBerry Curve. The Curve itself is a fairly delicate and pretty expensive piece of kit. I drop my Curve about once a month, whether I need to or not. Not to jinx myself here, but the Defender has saved me every time, along with providing sufficient heft that I can type without worrying that the device is going to fly out of my hands.

I doubt that OtterBox would make a case one-third the size (the OtterBox 333.3?) of the 1000, but if they did, it'd be an awesome carrying case for a Bluetooth device. The 1000 retails for $11.49. I'd pay that for a case one-half to one-third the size of the 1000; at less than $10, it'd be a no brainer.

So, OtterBox, maybe there's an idea for you--the OtterBox 500, at half the width and two-thirds the height of the 1000, priced at $9.95, with the goal of carrying compact Bluetooth headsets securely and safely...

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Not that the world needs more protocols...

But how about something like the Home Network Time Protocol (HNTP)? I just walked between three rooms in our place, and between five digital clocks, they all show different times. All our Macs are perfectly synchronized to the second thanks to NTP. I wish every digital clock had the capability to similarly sync.

I vaguely recall a technology a while back which offered RF synchronization with some kind of baseline clock (the terms "NIST" and "cesium atomic" come to mind), but I guess that never went anywhere. I'd love to see it come back...

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

New Jawbone + Jabra MiniGel How To

A number of folks have asked about the mechanics of replacing the new Jawbone's earpiece with the Jabra MiniGel, and whether glue was necessary (nope). With no baseball on the tube this evening, I figured I'd snap some quick photos to illustrate the relative ease of attaching the MiniGel. Click on the smaller photos for larger versions.



Step 1--source the Jabra MiniGels, from Hello Direct, BestBuy.com, or your favorite aural polymer provider.





Step 2--remove the existing earpiece from your new Jawbone. I've chosen not to cover that here; if you're reading this, you can likely figure out this part. Prepare your workspace (as if).






Step 3--observe the recessed area directly behind the earpiece lip. The MiniGel will stretch over the lip, snugly fitting into the recessed area.








Step 4--place the MiniGel's opening over the lip of the Jawbone, and pull the gel entirely over the lip. Note from the pressure you can see on my right thumb in the second photo that this does require a smidge of forcefulness. At no time was I worried about the Jawbone's earpiece breaking off. However, from the mandatory disclaimer department, I assume no responsibility if you were unlucky enough to get an earpiece from a defective injection mold.








Step 5--rotate the gel to about 7:30 if you're going to use it in your right ear, or 4:30 if you're going to use it in your left ear.





One thing that I've found is that the gel's fit on the earpiece is snug--so snug that it's very difficult to rotate the gel on the earpiece. I hadn't realized that this would be the case, as I'd simply transferred my (old grungy) MiniGel from my original Jawbone to my new Jawbone. Over the course of time, the previous gel stretched out quite a bit, as a result of too little care and feeding. The new gel is dramatically tighter, so once you've attached it, I'd be extremely surprised if you felt the need to add glue.

Step 6--there is NO step 6. Unless your name is Bruce.

Monday, July 14, 2008

The All-Star Forward-Slash Backlash

Three items of note as we finish our first of three nights with no meaningful baseball...

First, I think there's gotta be some sort of higher power guiding Josh Hamilton. I mean, what a great way to put forth his message--national TV, crushing the old Home Run Derby record, all the while giving kids a chance to reflect on where he'd been, and where he is now.

Second, the double play combo of Whoopi-to-Billy-to-Tino may not be Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance, but they certainly made their own twin killing memorable--way better than Miksis-to-Smalley-to-Addison Street, the famed double-play combo I grew up hearing about.

Third, let's try a short quiz, shall we?

A) Saul Hudson, lead guitarist for Guns N' Roses, was better known as?
B) Kordell Stewart, late of the Steelers, was better known as?
C) In bowling, you record a spare using what symbol?

Right. SLASH. Not "forward-slash".

Slash is the word, is the word, that you heard. (If you didn't see Grease, that means nothing to you)

Actually, slash is the symbol. Slash is used in web addresses. Backslash isn't--period. Slash is the hierarchical separator in URLs. Backslash isn't legal. Yet, for some reason, just about every single baseball promo that contains a web address for anything other than the main home page itself (e.g., www.cubs.com, www.sfgiants.com) also seems to contain one of two incorrect statements, both of which are galling to anybody with any type of geek credentials, earned or self-awarded. I hear way too many promos read with the broadcaster saying either "www.cubs.com 'forward-slash' tickets" or "www.sfgiants.com 'backslash' nbc" (as examples). To be clear, I don't think the broadcasters are at fault here--they're reading what they're handed on the promo card. But it's wrong, and it sounds brutal.

Garbage in, garbage out...kind of like the Cubs of my youth. Even though he only spent 2 1/2 months in the Friendly Confines in the summer of '74, I'm reminded of Billy Grabarkewitz and others, guys whom the Cubs signed in hopes of them resurrecting their careers with one final fling of day baseball.

Yeah, that worked well.

So, hey, Mr.-I'm-in-the-booth-with-Kruk-and-Kuip, Mr.-I'm-in-the-booth-with-Len-and-Bob, and Mr.-I'm-in-the-booth-with-Ray-and-Glen--how about writing some promos that get it right.

SLASH.

Don't burn. The geeks in your audience will applaud.

P.S. Len Kasper carries a black MacBook. How freakin' cool is he?

New Jawbone + Jabra MiniGel ... Glue?

For the commenter who asked about the need to use glue to hold the Jabra MiniGel in place on the new Jawbone...I haven't needed to. On the original Jawbone, the MiniGel didn't stay on all that well, so I know that a number of folks used some type of super glue to provide a better seal. My own reluctance in using glue on the original was a concern that glue build-up (schmutz) on the ring of the Jawbone would make it difficult to reattach the MiniGel when it eventually came off.

On the new Jawbone, I haven't even contemplated using glue, for one key reason. To ensure a suitable fit in the ear, and to ensure that the cheek doohickey thingie (Voice Activity Sensor) is properly pressing against the cheek, I've found that I rotate the MiniGel to about 8 o'clock (viewed when holding the new Jawbone with the VAS facing south) before placing the Jawbone in my ear. I then rotate the Jawbone upwards a smidge (to 7:30 or so) to ensure a good solid fit. Using glue would prevent me from doing so. Thus, no glue. Even so, I don't find the MiniGel jumping off the Jawbone itself. Due to the lack of a suitable carrying case (oh, how I miss the beauty of my Plantronics 640 and 655), I carry my new Jawbone in my pocket. Sure, the MiniGel falls off sometimes, but that's life--reattaching it to the headset takes about 3 seconds.

By the way, tomorrow marks the two month anniversary of the new Jawbone's introduction. If you were with us back then, you remember that Aliph somehow managed to not have their Club Jawbone ready to go on launch day. Two months later, they still don't. If you look at my post from the day after the launch, you'll note that the Club Jawbone page basically said, "Go play in traffic. Not only do we not have our stuff together to have our free fan club ready at this time, we're going to be so wildly successful we don't even have the need to capture your e-mail address for further company communications. Don't call us, Child, we'll call you."

Well, two months on, and still nothing. I'm intrigued (kind of like when Scooby needed a snack) by the relatively obscure link in the bottom left corner of the lower navigation bar. Either go to the Jawbone website and look for the "CJ" in the diamond shape, or just click on the image here. Two months on, bupkis.

Two months worth of potential leads. Two months of potential opt-ins from customers and prospects. Two months of letting the (obviously non-existent) CRM package populate itself. Two months worth of consumer touch, pissed away because somebody can't make a decision on how to put up a simple web form that asks users to enter an e-mail address, with the promise of contact sometime in the future. Aliph management is obviously asleep at the wheel when it comes to inbound marketing. Maybe the plan is to go to CES again next year and give away another couple of barrels full of Jawbones. Sure doesn't do much for cost of sales in my mind.

So, David Welden, Roelof Botha, and Gaurav Garg--you're the guys with the investment in Aliph. Maybe you guys can knock some sense into your management team, because Internet Marketing 101 and CRM 201 must've been electives they chose to skip.

Monday, June 16, 2008

New Jawbone--Less is More

After more than a month with the new Jawbone, I still wasn't comfortable with the fit of the earpiece. I happened to mention this to a buddy who has the original Jawbone, and has been using his with no earhook, just the Jabra eargel. He suggested that I remove the earhook, and try the new Jawbone by itself (with the Jabra eargel, of course).

Voila! Comfy.

Thanks Whit.

A few other thoughts after a month's use...

First, battery life isn't nearly as good as the original. Yes, that's a fair trade-off for the smaller size, but I'd gotten used to 6+ hours of talk time on the original. I'm getting about 4.25 hours of talk time out of the new Jawbone--not bad, but not what I was hoping for. Still worth the purchase price, though.

Second, multiple pairing doesn't work very well, if at all. I've played with it just a little, trying to go from connected to my BlackBerry to connected to my Mac. I'm already paired with both devices, but going from one to the other is kludgy, and going back was worse. I need to play with this a little more; I'm sure others on the 'Net have performed much more in-depth testing than I have, so I'll leave it to the blogosphere to address this issue.

Finally, as we approach the five-week anniversary of the new Jawbone's introduction, Aliph still hasn't brought up their Club Jawbone site. A month ago, I mentioned what a tremendous marketing and CRM opportunity they'd missed by not having Club Jawbone ready upon introduction of the new unit; worse, they still, still don't have a mechanism in place to capture e-mail addresses of those who visit the site. I'd love to know how many hundreds of thousands of people have clicked that link over the last 4 1/2 weeks. I'm obviously in the minority in wanting to know that, as Aliph doesn't seem to care.

Mind-boggling.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Capitalism is Good

I'm sitting in a hotel lounge in Antwerp, enjoying a nightcap and working on a couple of PowerPoint decks. When I walked in (around 23:45), the barman was just beginning to clean up from the viewing aftermath of Turkey's *unbelievable* comeback win over the Czechs in Euro Cup 2008. I mean, *I* got excited about soccer tonight, scarily enough.

When I walked into the empty bar and asked if they were still serving, I received the standard look of "Eh, do I want to deal with this guy?" To the barman's credit, he drew me a pint. About 5 minutes later, a group of nearly 20 people walked in, begging the barman to draw them a nightcap. He agreed; since then, another 25 people from the same crowd have walked in.

Net-net, if you're in a capitalist society--unless local law prohibits it--the proper answer to "You open?" as closing time nears is always YES. Whether you're a bar, a restaurant, a clothing store, pretty much anything but a jeweler or a bank--make the customer happy, and you never know what kind of good karma will come along.

Judging from the number of orders, the more than 70 drinks purchased has more than paid for the lights, an extra hour for the barman, and a whole bunch more.

Bravo!

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

New Jawbone Thoughts, Day 5

A few more thoughts on the New Jawbone, now that I've been using it for nearly a week...

Range/quality ratio seems to be similar to that of the original Jawbone. I've sat as far as 20 feet away from my BlackBerry while using the new Jawbone, and quality is good--assuming direct line of sight. As you might expect, anything that interferes with line of sight attenuates the signal. Walking into another room leads to signal loss; moving into another room, particularly more than about 15 feet away in the Faraday Cage that we call our home, leads to an almost unusable connection. Again, this is similar performance to the original Jawbone, and is perfectly acceptable in my mind.

The inclusion of an audible tone to alert when you've come back into range is a welcome addition. On the original Jawbone, you'd get a really annoying tone (thankfully ameliorated in the new Jawbone) when you walked out of range, but would have no mechanism to know when you'd walked back into range. Now, you receive a nice, soft tone to inform you that you're back in range. Way cool.

Finally, I still haven't found a totally comfortable fit with with the ear hook. I don't find the fit painful or uncomfortable per se, but I'm just not getting a warm fuzzy yet in terms of fit. My next step is going to be a pair of pliers, in an attempt to better shape the ear hook to my ear shape.

Further updates as events warrant.

Friday, May 16, 2008

New Jawbone Review, Day 2

(Scroll down for first day of the new Jawbone review, or click here.)

After wearing the new Jawbone for an entire day, I find it light years more comfortable than the original. As I noted in my initial review, I've already switched to the Jabra mini ear gel off of my original Jawbone. If someone made a customized ear gel that would fit snugly and firmly in the ear (hint, hint, Mr. Berkey), I believe I could get rid of the ear hook altogether.

Maybe.

The one thing with which I'm still experimenting is ensuring that the Voice Activity Sensor (a.k.a, the little doohickey that must touch the cheek to make the unit function properly) is actually resting against my cheek. I had a couple of complaints today from folks on the other end of the line that they couldn't hear me very well; as soon as I readjusted the headset to ensure that the VAS was firmly against my cheek, the complaints went away. One other issue which will bear further testing...when on the phone with The Wife on her BlackBerry Curve's speakerphone, I noticed an annoying hum in the earpiece. This was definitely on my side, rather than coming from The Wife's Curve.

One final point.

Kudos to Aliph for getting the product damn near totally right this time around. Promote whoever runs product management.

While you're at it, fire whoever runs marketing communications. I just popped over to the Jawbone website to find out the proper name of the cheek doohickey thingie (Voice Activity Sensor). I noticed a link entitled "Club Jawbone" on the bottom of the home page. So, I clicked it...and found the following...
(click the image for a bigger version)

Seriously? You launch a successor to one of the best-reviewed Bluetooth headsets of all time, meaning you're gonna get millions of hits, and you can't even get a freakin' opt-in newsletter set up. Seriously.

I mean, how about a little effort on the website campaign? When I click on the link for Club Jawbone, you throw up a page that basically says "Go play in traffic". C'mon. "Please check back soon" Seriously?

When I think of the cost of customer acquisition for any manufacturer, particularly one in the headset category (where many consider the items throwaways after a year, and where very little brand loyalty exists), and I look at this lack of effort, I'm stymied. Flummoxed. Mortified even. Put up a freakin' web form that says "Enter your e-mail address here, and we'll let you know when Club Jawbone is ready to launch. We promise, it'll be something you can sink your teeth into."

Or something like that. But, Aliph, you're killing me here. I'd love to know how many people have clicked on that link, and how many lost customer or prospective touches you've lost by not putting forth the most minimal of efforts to capture an e-mail address.

Seriously.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

New Jawbone Out-of-Box Experience and Review

If you know me, you know that I tend to be an early adopter on some stuff; on other stuff, I'm a fan of the "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" concept. I still chuckle at the teenager who looked at the 2G iPod I still carry, and said "Dude, how big's the drive on that one?" "Uh, 20 gig, Skippy."

Just call me Old School.

That said, I've probably gone through a dozen Bluetooth headsets over the years. I bought the original Jawbone a couple of months after its introduction, based on extremely positive reviews from a couple of buddies. While I can say that the original Jawbone has never been as comfortable as the Plantronics 640 and 655 I had immediately prior, it's been amazing in terms of battery life (better than 6 hours' straight talk time) and noise reduction, although I still wish A) that Aliph provided some type of carrying case (like the well-designed Plantronics units do), and B) that Aliph would ship something other than the absolutely crap hard plastic earpieces which make use of the original uncomfortable to the point of being downright painful. If you missed my post-CES recap on the original Jawbone, you can find it here.

With today's introduction of the new Jawbone, I decided to put my money where my mouth is. Having used the original Jawbone for the last 15 months or so, and loving it despite its flaws, I was eager to see if Aliph had listened to feedback from the blogosphere.

Apparently, they have.

Is the new one perfect? No. The charger still uses a proprietary attachment, rather than a mini- or micro-USB port. That said, the new connector is a dramatic improvement on the previous one, connecting and aligning via surface-mounted magnets and contacts, rather than the insertion method (heh, heh) on the old model. The earpieces are now a soft rubber, and the earhooks are smaller.

So, to the positives of the new Jawbone. First, size. Second, improved noise canceling technology (which was pretty damned good on the original). Third, branding.

Let's start with the branding. Since I spend quite a bit of my professional life thinking about various topics in consumer electronics, I'm psyched to see that Aliph has made the Jawbone packaging a little more visually appealing, luxurious even, than the original's packaging. I expect that in 6-9 months' time, the new Jawbone will show up at a lower price point in blister packaging, just like the original has. For now, big kudos to whoever did Aliph's visual identity implementation for the new product.

If you click on the next two photos, you'll see a bigger image of the new packaging.

Here's the front...

...and here's the back...

You'll note a couple of things. First, I've never even contemplated shooting photos of an out-of-box experience, so apologies for the lighting in these photos being off, but I didn't have any 3200K kit floating around the house. Second, I love the packaging, and the tagline--NOISEASSASSIN--just sounds freakin' cool.

The next two shots are from the initial unpackaging...



As I was opening the package, I felt a little like I think The Wife feels when she opens a gift from Tiffany. Tiffany & Co. absolutely get it when it comes to packaging appeal. Ladies, what other brand conveys such absolute appeal, making you know that you're likely to be thrilled with whatever's in the Tiffany Blue shopping bag with the white handles, in which resides a Tiffany Blue box wrapped in a white ribbon, in which resides a Tiffany Blue felt bag, in which resides, well, a surprise that you're likely gonna love? From a packaging standpoint, I think the typical male equivalent is a 4x4 at In 'n' Out Burger. The new Jawbone's package sets a very high bar for the competition, in that Aliph is now selling luxury (at least until the new Jawbone ends up in a blister pack). Yes, I'm willing to pay more for it. I'm a consumer. Judging from the fact that the first two AT&T stores I called today were already sold out of their allotment, I'm not the only one.

First views of the new Jawbone itself...


A couple of shots of included accessories...


The power adapter and all included accessories...


Various shots comparing the original Jawbone with the new Jawbone, along with a shot of the power adapter attached...