April 24, 2011
To a Mentor, Bart Jackson

There are two managers and one teacher whom I would consider my mentors. When I was 21, my manager, Bart Jackson, shaped so many aspects of my life with just couple sentences during a meeting.

“If you want something done, get anyone to do it. If you want something done right, get George to do it.”

With that, he set me on a never-ending pursuit of craftsmanship.

I worked for Bart in the IT department at The North Face1. With almost no experience whatsoever, I suddenly found myself in charge of the entire networking infrastructure of the headquarters, the warehouse, 20 or so stores around the country, and offices in Glasgow and Toronto.

Of course it wasn’t all at once. Bart very smartly had me introduce PCs here and there to replace dumb terminals, allowing me to build up my confidence and trust with our customers. But it was a fast ride from teaching accounting how to use Lotus-1232 to developing complex databases that ran the whole business. I studied far more for work in those three years than for the UC Berkeley classes I was attending at the same time.

That was the easy part. I learned that technical challenges can be tough but usually have tangible and tidy solutions. For most issues that we encounter, the willingness of people to change their process or frame of reference is a much tougher nut to crack.

Bart allowed me to reach far beyond my knowledge, and deep into my capabilities. He allowed me to learn professionalism and self-discipline with invisible guidance, rather than imposing his will on me. Most importantly, he created the space for me to nurture my critical thinking and creative skills by giving me more freedom, not more constraints.

I learned that Bart spent most of his time removing obstacles for his team. He was very good at keeping the bullshit from our group, but always keeping us informed. He also made sure the good work of the department was acknowledged throughout the company. We were able to interact with our customers in a very positive, cooperative, and productive way.

This pride and self-confidence came at the expense of others. The context of being better is almost always in comparison with another department or another person. While some people (like me) thrived on the competition, the effect was demoralizing for others. This too, is something that I carry with me and try very hard not to repeat.

I kept in touch with Bart off and on after we both left The North Face, with the communication trailing off the past 5 years. We never made the transition from a professional relationship to a friendship. Few weeks ago, I received a Facebook friend request from him and I was delighted.

There, on his wall, a single post announced his memorial, with the comments full of fond farewells and how he will be missed.

I won’t miss Bart, because it’s clear to me how much I’ve incorporated him into my work ethics, my management style, and indeed, my personality.

9:26am
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April 12, 2011
Form and Function

Form and function is a difficult balance to strike, even in something as trivial as a mobile phone case.

I recently crashed on my bike while riding to work one morning. I skidded along the pavement rounding a slick corner at high speeds. In the process, I shredded the corner of the Apple Bumper1 on my iPhone 4.

I got the bumper when Apple was giving them away for free, and have had a lukewarm relationship with it. Because it was designed to fit the iPhone form factor so perfectly, I had two problems with the bumper:

  1. I could not use my Etymotic2 headphones without removing the bumper since the headphone cutout will only accept jacks shaped like the Apple supplied headphones.
  2. The USB connector from my older iPod nano won’t fit on the phone with the case on.

The headphone issue was a big deal as I often ride BART3 to and from San Francisco. I need the noise isolation because the trains are just so loud. It’s also the perfect time to catch up with some podcasts.

Why use the bumper at all? Well, the glass-on-both-sides design makes it difficult to set the phone down on a variety of surfaces. The bumper gives it enough lift so that’s no longer a worry. Really, that was the only reason for me—until I crashed.

I had always thought that if the bumper wears out I would just go without, but imagining what a naked phone would have been like after the crash made me reconsider.

I did what any good tech geek would do and spent far too much time scrutinizing the specs and reviews online for a $20 item. The Griffin Elan Form Graphite4 seemed to fit the bill:

  1. Fairly unobtrusive
  2. Black
  3. Allows me to set the phone down, front or back, on a hard surface
  4. Has cutouts that eliminate the problems I had with my headphones and USB connector

When I put the case on, my iPhone immediately ceased to look and feel like an iPhone anymore. The clean lines are replaced by weird angles and bumps. The shininess of the case competed with the iPhone. And worst of all, it made the whole phone feel cheap to hold in my hand.

One of the things I enjoy the most about the iPhone 4 is the feel of the glass. There’s a certain silkiness and softness to the touch. With the new case which covers the entire back, I can’t enjoy that really nice sensation of just touching the phone while I’m walking or on the train.

While I admire the industrial design of the iPhone 4, holding it raw with the steel band was uncomfortable for me while talking on the phone. The bumper felt perfect. The Griffin, not so much.

So, there is something to be said about form over function. On paper, the Griffin is a better fit for my use case. But there is the very tangible pleasure of using the Apple Bumper which I never thought about until now, when I miss it.

10:44pm
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Filed under: musing