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The Ends of the Earth

Doug — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 21:10:20 +0000

Parque Nacional Los Alerces, Argentina

You can travel to the ends of the earth, but you just can’t escape quality Iowa manufacturing…

Fuso Photo Albums

Doug — Sat, 02 Feb 2008 12:13:34 +0000

For those who just can’t get enough of our rig, I created some photo albums of shots of the rig in action here: http://www.hackneys.com/gallery/v/travel/fuso/

Captain Orr’s Archive

Doug — Wed, 07 Nov 2007 03:17:17 +0000

While moving some data around to prepare for our departure overseas I came across the columns I wrote for the magazine Data Management Review.

Since I shut down my last company’s web site, there has not been a full archive of these columns available online.

In the interests of the former customers, team members, keynote speech & cnvference attendees, and others in the industry who I still hear from, I posted an archive of all of the columns from 1995-2003 at http://www.egltd.com/dmrarchive/dmrarchive.htm (The archive of all materials is at: http://www.egltd.com/ )

Included are the very columns that sparked the great BI data architecture wars of that era.

I even came across the column that initiated the bi-annual visits of the minions of the self-appointed grand master of the industry segment. At least twice a year they would sit across from me and, with a mixture of fear and loathing, spew out the immortal phrase “and if you don’t toe the line you’ll never work in this industry again.”

Of course, I never did toe the line.

And in the end, by my own choice, I didn’t work in that industry again.

That part about my own choice confused, and continues to confuse, a lot of people.

There aren’t a lot of folks who walk away from a position of industry leadership along with a very successful career and business.

I eventually arrived at a different perspective on things.

I turned out to be Captain Orr to their Milo Minderbinder ethics based world.

(If these character names make no sense to you, click here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catch-22 )

San Diego fires - update 8:00 AM PDT 24 October, 2007

Doug — Wed, 24 Oct 2007 16:49:38 +0000

The shore of Mission Bay
San Diego, California, USA

8:30 AM 24 October, 2007

In response to inquiries about our status and the situation here I expanded distribution to our full travel mailing list. My original status message follows this one.

We are still OK. We’re in the only little pocket of this entire region that has had low winds and relatively clear air. We still have a clear path to the beach.

The air here is smoky and we are getting a good coating of fine ash. Most people have minor eye irritation, sneezing and are suffering other ill effects.

All the family is OK. Everyone who is close to or in the path of evacuation orders has their critical items packed and ready to go, including our niece, Madison, who has her favorite stuffed animals staged for evacuation.

We have no information on Eric, my brother-in-law who is a Los Angeles County fireman. No news is good news there, and I never worry about Eric. He is one of the most hyper-capable people I’ve ever known. My brother would no doubt chalk that up to Eric’s Navy experience.

We have friends who have been under evacuation and some friends we fear have lost their homes. We don’t know the status there.

A friend from the San Francisco area emailed and said the only news they are getting concerns the fires in Malibu and other celebrity laden areas, so here is an update on the situation here in the San Diego area.

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2007 Fuso BEV U.S. Test

Doug — Sat, 06 Oct 2007 19:54:13 +0000

We’ve spent over 4 months testing the rig in the U.S. prior to shipping to South America.

The main page that contains links to all the route, results, writing and photography for this trip is here: http://www.hackneys.com/travel/index-2007-trips.htm

You can see our route and the summary test results data at: http://www.hackneys.com/travel/index-fusotestmap.htm

Photos of our travels during the test are at: http://www.hackneys.com/gallery/v/travel/2007/06-fusotest/

Desert Island Books - Round Two

Doug — Fri, 14 Sep 2007 23:29:31 +0000

Back in January I asked you to answer the question: If you could only take a backpack full, what books would you take to a desert island?

I got quite a few responses, most of them within days of my posing the question.

Just about everyone who submitted a list was interested in seeing what other people suggested.

And since January, I’ve seen, talked to or received emails from quite a few of you who promised that you were “going to get that book list out.”

Well, now’s the time.

I finally got the original responses posted, and I’m ready to add to those lists.

The Desert Island Book List is at: http://www.hackneys.com/travel/index-booksdesertislandlist.htm

If you’d like to add your suggestions to it please email them to me at: doug@hackneys.com.

Our current book inventories are at: Doug: http://www.hackneys.com/travel/index-booksinventorydoug.htmSteph: http://www.hackneys.com/travel/index-booksinventorysteph.htm (she just read through about a dozen books and is very low on inventory)

PS – The original email follows. My friend, Lee Wochner, who I reference in the email, posted a very tongue-in-cheek response to that message on his blog at: http://leewochner.com/blog/?p=203. And I agree with Lee’s recollection, his list was created in response to my request for a Cliff’s Notes version of an English Lit degree. But I stand by my version of his response to the garage sale…

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My Favorite Cubs Game

Doug — Tue, 17 Jul 2007 12:16:11 +0000

One summer afternoon, sometime in the mid-80s, we were sitting around the kitchen table at my friend Floyd’s place. It was the 2nd story of a typical Chicago brick three flat in Wrigleyville. The back door was open, the flies were buzzing around the screen door and the rattling, clattering, dull roar of the L trains paced the afternoon as they rumbled by along the elevated tracks that ran down the alley. It was hot and the wind was absolutely still. The curtains hung listlessly and our attempts to conjure up a breeze by opening every window in the place were fruitless. It was a classic August afternoon in Chicago. Cooler near the lake.

We spent the day chatting about work, people we knew, all the stories of the day and the stories from our past. Attenuated by the heat and humidity, the tone was quiet, punctuated by soft laughter as we shared a common memory. During a lull, we suddenly heard a distinctive sound, a sound that could only come at that time, in that place, in that season. It was a sound that was distinctively American, distinctively Chicago, distinctively north side, and distinctively of that era and no other. It was the sound of “A one, a two…” followed by 30,000 people singing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” led, if you could ever use that term in reference to his singing, by Harry Caray.

We sat transfixed, as the lyrics echoed through the neighborhood. We didn’t utter a sound until the last note had faded away, melting into a passing L train.

It is one of my favorite all time baseball memories, and of the dozens of Cub games I attended, that game remains my favorite, even though I wasn’t even there.

Force 8

Doug — Tue, 20 Sep 2005 04:49:59 +0000

December 20, 2005

The

Bight Bay

Norman

Island a.k.a. “

Treasure Island”

British Virgin Islands

“What?” I yelled. Steph’s words were garbled and I had a hard time hearing her over the shrieking wind through the rigging and the crashing, rapidly building waves. Asking “what?” also bought me a little time. I could tell by her expression and the tone of her voice that this was not going to be a good message and in marital communications / bantering / bartering / balance-of-power tactical exchanges even a few milliseconds can make the difference between holding your own with a verbal parry and being skewered.

“I said if I had known this is what it would be like I never would have agreed to do this!” she yelled back. The “this” at the end of her sentence was punctuated with the bow of the boat punching into another wave and seawater blasting over the forward quarter of the deck. I knew I had to answer quickly, you can’t let a statement like that stand on its own or it takes on irrefutable veracity. In the world of marriage politics, that could be a complete loss of face. You can’t just concede a point like that, especially with as much at stake as we had. We were less than 24 hours into the trip and I couldn’t afford to fall that far behind that early.

I looked out at the tumbling seas. The 34 knot (40 mph) gale force winds were tearing the tops off the waves and spewing them out across the surface in long white foamy streaks. The waves were big enough to rock our little world around and were building quickly here on the Atlantic side of the islands. The fetch, or distance the waves traveled under wind, was essentially infinite as there wasn’t much between where we were and

Europe a couple of thousand miles away. They were, as the scientists say, “fully mature wave forms.” It was amazing that our boat, about the height (not including the mast), length, width and weight of a semi-tractor/trailer, could be tossed around like a toy boat in a boisterous child’s bathwater, but the sea operates with physical forces of a scale that humans just can’t comprehend

For the rest of the story see the PDF document at:

http://www.hackneys.com/sail/force8.pdf

Malcolm Smith’s Return to Baja

Doug — Sat, 20 Nov 2004 03:48:08 +0000

Please see the PDF document at:

http://www.hackneys.com/docs/MalcolmSmith-2004-Baja-1k-06.pdf

e-Postcard from The Kingdom of Bhutan

Doug — Tue, 20 Apr 2004 04:18:04 +0000

April 20, 2004

e-Postcard from The

Kingdom of

Bhutan

The archer slowly drew back his arrow, his hands steady, the bamboo bow distorted into a widemouthed sideways U. Unlike modern compound bows, which actually get easier to pull the farther you draw back the string, this traditional Bhutanese bamboo bow grew ever harder to pull the further he drew the arrow towards himself. His eyes narrowed into slits. He slowly elevated the bow and arrow towards the sky, finely judging the fiercely blowing and ever changing winds and the 200 yard distance to the tiny target. He ignored the chanted taunts of the opposing team’s cheerleaders questioning his ability to complete the reproductive process, challenging the ability to find certain parts of his anatomy without the aid of optical magnification and allegations of his heritage being closely aligned with Yaks. He blocked out the flicks of their scarves mere inches from his face, and released the arrow.

On its parabolic arc rode the destiny of his team and his village. Having fought through months of tournaments, he and his ten teammates found themselves locked in a tight battle in the deciding game of the national championship. Yesterday’s two contests had taken a full day, with each of the finalists winning one game. Today’s game would determine the archery national championship, and with it, which team would receive the prestige, honors and adulation of an entire nation. In

Bhutan, archery is the national sport, and winning the archery national championship is comparable to simultaneously winning the World Cup, World Series, Super Bowl, Final Four and the local bowling league.

For the rest of the story please see the PDF document at:

http://www.hackneys.com/travel/Bhutan/03-bhutan.pdf