Our First Week

In one week; Julie and I managed to get new mobile phones, open a bank account, rent AND furnish an apartment, attend a footy, and find our way around a new city. Absolutely none of this would be possible without the time, effort, and patience of Mick and Paula Saddler. Words cannot express my gratitude for all of their help so far.

A few hours removed from the plane ride, I was in the Telstra store trying to acquire a new iPhone. We were caught in a Catch-22 where they didn’t want to give us a phone until we had an Australian bank account, but we couldn’t get an Australian bank account without a phone. After a few minutes, Mick graciously stepped up and put me on his business account. I started laughing and saying that he vouched for me which led to Mick and I watching “Rounders” on Saturday night. It was my twentieth or so time watching the movie, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how Mick has pretty much been vouching for me since I got here. I promise to be more responsible than Worm (Ed Norton’s character) in the movie, but it means a lot to have someone willing to help us out like that.

There are so many crazy thoughts and impressions from the first week, I don’t know where to start. Julie and I have settled into Port Melbourne. We can walk easily to the beach, there are shops all around us, and we have easy access to the city. The area reminds both of us of Hermosa Beach. As we were checking out the area and trying to find a place, I realized that there was government housing right next to homes going for a king’s ransom. I was absolutely shocked that such prime real estate would be used and given free of charge to citizens who would otherwise be homeless.

I pointed out all of this to Julie and she responded with, “It’s not that I disagree with you, but take a look at how we treat our homeless. That’s not working either.” Fair point, Julie, fair point. I will go back to observing and not judging. Maybe the Australians are onto something and ensuring that there is a bare minimum that will be provided establishes a better society. I still think I will wind up resenting paying rent knowing that people are living a block away from me for free.

Next random thought... Now I’m the one with the accent. I’ve been picking on Mick for years, but now I’m hearing my accent through their ears. Paula recounted how, two years ago, I met a then three year old Lexie for the first time. For no particular reason, I began to sing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” to her.

Paula was horrified when, after I left, Lexie was singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” and pronouncing star with an American accent. To the Australians, every time we say a word that has a sound like “are” in it, we sound like pirates saying, “Arg!” Paula reprimanded her child reminding her that she is an Australian and it’s “Twinkle, Twinkle Little st-ah” NOT “star!”

Public transportation... I haven’t been in a city that has public transportation since leaving Chicago sixteen years ago. We have gone all over the city and the suburbs quickly and easily hopping on trams. They run continuously from early morning until late at night. It’s absolutely amazing and I have no issue with going down to one car and relying heavily on public transportation to get around.

My last thought of the evening as it’s getting late and Julie will be leaving tomorrow... Mick was kind enough to get us tickets to a “footy” or Australian Rules Football game. I tried to read about it before going to the event, but gave up thinking I would figure it out when I was able to see it in person. I was blown away by the size of Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG). It’s almost twice the size of Qwest Field capable of seating 110,000 people!

The game was easy enough to figure out. In the interest of brevity, my impression was it was a little bit like full contact soccer. I will definitely be going again in the future and enjoyed the heck out of the game and the atmosphere. The people in attendance were passionate about the sport, but not dicks like soccer fans in the UK or other spots in the world. I saw plenty of families with young children, all having a great time and I can’t wait to bring Carson and Zoe to a game.

The game turned into a blowout rather quickly with the Carlton Blues smoking the Melbourne Demons. The funniest part was that periodically, an ad was shown on the jumbotron with the current odds and a way to wager on the game via mobile phone. I expressed my shock and disbelief to Mick that I could place a bet right from my seat. His response?

“Don’t people bet on football in the States?”

Me, “Yeah, of course, but you could never advertise it in a stadium so brazenly like that!”

Mick, “Why not?”

Me, “I don’t know... Everyone gambles on the NFL. Fantasy football is all about gambling, but the NFL likes to deny that it ever takes place.”

Mick, “Why?”

I DON’T KNOW! Seriously, I don’t. Everyone gambles on the NFL and everyone pretends like it doesn’t happen. Why not advertise the current odds during the game? Allow betting and tax it. They do it here and it hasn’t led to anarchy. I plan to do some more blogging in the future as I settle in a bit...

Pick Your Battles, Mate!

My brain is a blur and I am exhausted. I left SeaTac Airport at 6PM (note: I picked our departure date and time to coincide with the Rapture, somewhat disappointed in the results). I wound up in Melbourne (pronounced Mel-bun) at 10:30AM Monday morning. I had only two objectives on my first day in Australia.

1: Open a bank account. Done.

2: Get an iPhone. Sort of done.

I have been asked a few times why I was selling my phone in the states. I'll try to make this short, as I feel it made a lot of sense. In the US, I bought my phone for $300 and it carried a two year contract with AT&T. The penalty for breaking said contract is $375 pro-rated by the number of months on the contract. Since AT&T doesn't work in Oz, I obviously was going to need to break my contract. At this point, I owed about $200. However, there are plenty of people who want iPhones, but don't want a contract. I'm not sure why (some ship them to India or China where it's hard to get an iPhone and depend on hacker tools to "Jailbreak" and "Unlock" their phones). Regardless, I sold my phone for $500 since the buyer does not assume my contract. I netted $300 out of the five minutes I spent posting an email and negotiating a price. Here in Australia, the phones are thrown in with the contracts and since I plan on being here for at least three years, I figured I'd pick up a new phone, make a decent profit for minimal effort, and not have to depend on hacker tools to keep my phone working.

Now, it's usually not a good idea to start publicly picking on your boss before you start working and it's also usually a good idea to take responsibility for your actions, but I'm going to violate both of those rules with this entry. How I know Mick is a story for another time, but how I'm going to blame Mick for my phone no longer working goes something like this...

Mick had sent me some pictures he had taken from a book because it contained some interesting information. I started to rave about an iPhone app called "JotNot" that takes material from print and allows you to straighten it out so that it looks more like it was scanned than a picture. It really does a superior job of making a photo completely legible and corrects for the angle the phone was held and then enables the user to fax or email the article. What's more, the app costs a whopping $.99. I felt so strongly about this product that I told Mick, "Look, if you don't like it, I'll give you back your ninety-nine cents."

Mick then replied, "Well, it's not really ninety-nine cents because we get screwed on the exchange rate by iTunes. When you come over here, be sure to keep your American credit cards and iTunes account."

"Well then, how much do apps cost over there?", I was worried for a moment.

"We have to pay $1.10 for things that cost $.99!"

In the conversations since then, the subject of this digital exchange rate abuse has come up a few times and yesterday I confronted Mick about it.

"Do you really care about the extra ten cents that things cost you through iTunes? Isn't that just a cost of being an Australian? It seems hardly relevant."

"That's not the point, mate." Yes, Australians really call people mate regardless of whether they are male or female.

Mick was running on a full head of steam. "Why should we have to pay more for a 'digital tax'? It costs the same to download something no matter where you do it. It's just not right."

I gave up. If Mick wanted to hold a grudge over being charged an extra ten cents for an app, that was his propagative and was one of his least eccentric qualities. But... the subject had come up a few times and he had warned me to keep my US address and credit card on my iTunes account to avoid paying this tax...

So Julie and I had our shiny new iPhones and all was well with the universe. We had a great time strolling through a grocery store in our new neighborhood. I took some great pictures of local products like a Kraft Lunchables with Vegemite. I made it a goal to stay up until 8:00PM local time and did it. Unfortunately, I woke up at 4AM. Having nothing better to do, I decided to restore my iPhone that I had dutifully backed up, complete with all of my US information. Halfway through the restore, I realized that I was putting my old phone number and carrier back on my phone and essentially reimaging it to run in the US and no longer had service in Australia. I was cut off from the world again all to save ten cents per app.

I have been warned repeatedly about the high cost of various things Down Under. Rent is high, but I try to compare it to living on the beach in California and it seems about average. Gas is expensive, but I knew the US taxes gas less than other nations. Beer is ridiculously expensive, <sarcasm> so it's a good thing that Aussies don't drink much </sarcasm>, with a six pack costing about $25. I'm going to focus my irritation at the high cost of beer rather than being charged an extra dime to download media from iTunes.

The Trouble With Marriage

When you are single, friendships are easy. You meet people at work, social activities, parties, whatever. You talk. You get a sense for if you get along alright or not. You hang out. So long as you and the other person have more good times than bad, you continue to hang out. Friendships develop. It’s so simple.

Then you get married... Think of all the people that you don’t like in the world. Now imagine you meet someone that you do like, but they are joined in a covenant with someone that you now also must like and your spouse must like both of them as well. It went from two people being compatible and capable of hanging out to having four people all having to like each other. Since I only like a small fraction of the population, it gets very hard for me to get along with two people who seem randomly assigned to each other.

In our years together, there have been plenty of times when I like him and she didn’t like her. Or she liked her but I didn’t like him. Friendships fizzle out whenever this happens. On top of that, as semi-new parents, we have so much less free time we don’t meet as many people as we used to. The worst part of marriage is that finding “couple friends” is that it is exponentially more difficult than developing friendships when we were single.

This all brings me back to the Xbox Christmas Party of 2005. It was hands down the best corporate party I have ever been to. It was held at the Showbox in downtown Seattle and the entertainment featured DJ AM and the Presidents of the United States of America. The beer and liquor flowed copiously and girls in high heels and short dresses walked out and vomited in the streets one after the other. It was awesome.

Sometimes these parties can suck as I get stuck trying desperately to make small talk with someone I don’t know, like, or will never see again. I am the fish out of water and Julie does her best to include me, but she’s surrounded by people she knows. I do my best not to be offensive and hope for it to end. Not this time though... Julie’s work friend, Debbie, had just joined the company. I was enjoying myself when I met her husband, Jason. Jason is a giant of a man who makes me look petite. He has a pure joy that emanates from him and within seconds of meeting him, I knew that I liked him in a very heterosexual and bromantic sort of way.

We were standing at the bar and it was like we underwent a Vulcan mind meld. As we were both about to order a beverage, our eyes simultaneously scanned the liquor selection on display. We both locked in on a bottle of Patron and said (so the legend goes), “Patron margaritas!” at exactly the same time. I had two or twenty, listened to the Presidents put on an excellent live show, and then watched the parade of drunk twentysomething ‘Softies stagger into the streets. It was a night that was legend - wait for it - airy!

As much as I liked both Debbie and Jason, we didn’t see them often. We had Carson a few months later. Debbie, in a move of pure one upmanship, had twins. We had Zoe. Debbie and Jason had another child.

Over the last few months, I kept on running into Jason at the gym. Every time, I spent a lot of time talking and laughing. I’d call him a “meat head” and he found it funny. As Jason stood with his brother and friends at the squat rack, I would make grunting noises. Loudly. Inappropriately loudly, but Jason would just laugh. Maybe you had to be there, but it cracked both of us up.

Now, as we are about to move to Australia, I have seen more of Debbie and Jason in the last week than I have in the previous three years combined. It saddens me that we did not spend enough time with a great couple, but I’ll take what time I can get. I do have to thank Debbie and Jason for inviting us to an incredible birthday party filled with fun and laughter.

Unfortunately, Zoe was sick, so only Carson and I were able to attend. The children all welcomed Carson right in and the adults were having a great time as well. My last memory of hanging with Jason will be when we; two grown men, both over 6’4” and 250 pounds, challenged each other to a race in a bounce-house obstacle course. I am impressed that the obstacle course was able to withstand the damage we threw at it. It was an epic race where I narrowly bested my worthy opponent only to be defeated by Jason’s brother, Kyle.

Jason and Debbie, I will miss you. You were great “couples friends”. I look forward to meeting a couple almost as awesome as you guys in Australia.

Three Years

I’ve had the exact same conversation multiple times lately. It goes something like this:

“Wow! How long are you going to be in Australia?”
“I dunno.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?! Seriously, how long are you going to be there?”

“I mean I really don’t know. It all depends on how much we like it there. I might very well never leave or we might come back. I’ll be able to answer the question in three years.”

“Three years? That’s a long time!”

But it’s not. I don’t care what your political views are, but think for a minute where you were when Obama got elected. I came home from work around 6. I usually try not to have the TV on around the kids, but I thought the election merited a special exception.

I flipped on the TV and prepared dinner. My daughter, who is now talking in complete sentences and very capable of beating me in verbal debates, was an infant. She was strapped in a baby seat that vibrated and made soothing noises. She was fascinated with the mobile that hung a few inches from her face.

My son was all about Thomas the Train and dinosaurs. He was not happy with the election results and was adamant that we should be watching a kid’s show instead. Carson was doing his best to wear me down and get me to put something on that he would find more entertaining. The pundits were talking away and saying that Obama needed 270 electoral votes to win. That’s when I noticed that if you took Obama’s existing votes and added in Washington, Oregon, and California; then Obama won the election.

I told Julie it was over and that Obama had won. She asked how could I be so sure and I said there is no way he was not going to win those states. A few moments later, the pundits started saying the exact same thing and the election was called for Obama. We celebrated by watching an episode of Thomas the Train narrated by George Carlin. Carson was much happier with Thomas on.

I can still remember the conversation and the arguments back and forth with both Carson and Julie like it was yesterday, yet it was two and a half years ago. It seems like three years can pass in the blink of an eye and I have a feeling that when three years have come and gone my answer will be, “Give me another three years and then I’ll know.”

I am an American...

“I am an American fighting in the forces which guard my country and our way of life. I am prepared to give me life in their defense.” - Article I of the Code of Conduct for the Armed Forces of the United States of America.

I was able to type the above quote from memory - no Googling. I must have said it over a thousand times during my fourth class year at the United States Air Force Academy. I said it and I meant it. I was prepared to give my life for my country. I named my son, in part, after my paternal grandfather who risked his life to come here. He never achieved financial success, but believed in the opportunity that allowed his children to succeed. I am only the second generation born here and I can’t speak a word of Russian because my grandfather saw himself as an American and detested his native country.

The last ten years have not been good ones in American history. Two large scale financial bubbles, a two front foreign war, alienation in the global community, and a general feeling of malaise has taken a grip on this country. I still believe in my country. I still think that, as Americans, there are things we do very well. However, I am interested in alternatives.

Before I moved to Seattle, I identified myself as a Republican. Today, I consider myself a right-of-center independent. Where I once questioned every government service, there is nothing like receiving government assistance to make you change your mind. I have witnessed first hand the affect of the Right Start program on my son, Carson, and am a staunch defender of it.

I once would have thought that socialized medicine would be the end of civilization as we know it. Now, I am an honestly curious to see how it works. Will it offer the same level of service I am accustomed to? Will it cost more than I’m used to paying? There is a part of me that is starting to think that healthcare is kind of like the roads. We all use it. We should all pitch in. Some will use it more than others, but really, who would choose to have cancer just because they get free chemo?

As a society, I can think of a lot of benefits of decoupling health insurance from employment. I think too many would be entrepreneurs are filled with defeatism that they need “good benefits” for their families. Generation Y is effectively being paid less because they are subsidizing my generation’s use of health insurance. Good, smart people are paralyzed in their jobs because they have been programmed to believe that their company’s benefits are superior. If everyone had the same healthcare; the employment focus would be back to compensation and culture. The fear of moving would be removed.

I have absolutely no idea what the next few years will bring. I don’t know whether I’ll love Oz or hate it (I’m guessing I’ll love it and consider it a second home), but I do plan on coming back to the States one day. I do know that my mind is more open than it’s ever been and I am ready to take a look at a different culture with different values and I will be able to admit if some things actually work better.

Tap. Tap. Is This Thing On?

It’s kind of a tradition when learning a new programing language to write a “Hello World” application. The sole purpose of the application is to write the words “Hello World” to an interface which is seen by the programmer. It’s not particularly useful, but it does serve a certain purpose. It allows the programmer to get familiar with some of the tools necessary to compose and compile an application without overwhelming him. It’s simple, it’s to the point, and the programmer has a certain sense of accomplishment. It’s been a while since I’ve blogged, but consider this the “Hello World” of a blog post. I’m not sure what I am going to accomplish with this blog, but I plan to discuss my journey in Australia, reflect on my time in Seattle, business, economics, and there will be plenty of time for random rants about things that probably only irritate me.

Once upon a time, there was no You Tube, iTunes, video rentals, or even DVDs. Home entertainment consisted of books and cassette tapes of music. As a kid, growing up in the 80’s, and with limited funds; I did what most kids did. I joined the Columbia Music House program. Future generations are going to find this absolutely bizarre, but it worked like this: you taped a penny to a postcard along with a selection of twelve cassettes, you waited forever, and then cassettes magically appeared in the mail the day you forgot about them. Every month, you were required to fill out a postcard saying that you didn’t want the “selection of the month” and if you didn’t, it would be mailed to you and you would be charged for it.

The first couple of selections were always pretty easy. You picked some Van Halen or whatever music you were listening to at the time. However, by the tenth pick, everyone I knew was running out of steam and picking randomly. I wound up picking an Eddie Murphy comedy album to round out my selection. I can’t remember if it was “Delirious” or “Raw”, but I do know that I listened to it over a hundred times, because there was nothing else to do.

Eddie Murphy does a bit about the Amytiville Horror movies. In the bit, he discusses the difference between a black family moving into the haunted house versus a white family. The black family moves in and Eddie mimics them discussing how much they love the house, “Isn’t this great, this house is fantastic!”

Then he makes an ominous voice that says, “GET OUT!”

Eddie switches back to the black family, “OK, we’re gone.”

Done. The black family has the common sense to leave when they realize the house is haunted. In contrast, he discusses the hypothetical white family in the same situation. The house says, “GET OUT!” and the white family retorts, “Fuck that, we’re not going.”

For too long, I have been acting like the white family in the above scenario with Seattle. Common sense has finally kicked in and it is time to go. The story of Seattle has really been a tale of two decades. Unfortunately, I decided to show up in the wrong decade.

Seattle in the nineties was exploding. Bands like Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Alice in Chains, and Soundgarden were formed and discovered here. In pop culture, “Frasier” and the movie “Singles” were based in Seattle. The Mariners had Ken Griffey Jr., Alex Rodriguez, and Randy Johnson. The Sonics were a force to be reckoned with the combination of Gary Payton and Shawn Kemp. The term “Microsoft Millionaire” meant something. At one point, the most valuable company in the world (by market cap) was located right here in Redmond, Washington.

Y2K came and went and there were no disasters, but something was different. Grunge was long gone and almost forgotten. ARod left for $250 million. Shawn Kemp got more interested in cocaine than basketball. Then the Sonics moved to Oklahoma City (of all places). Boeing up and left. And the Microsoft Millionaires? Microsoft stock has not appreciated since 1998.

It’s not like Seattle is Detroit. It’s not. It’s simply not like it was in the nineties. I arrived here in 2001 and didn’t listen to the voice telling me to GET OUT. The winters have been far more brutal than I ever could have imagined. I would like to say that it’s because they were cold, but they weren’t. Chicago is much colder and I never seemed to mind the winter there. No, it’s the complete and utter lack of light that has made me want to hibernate every year for months on end. The sky is a constant state of grey with a cloud cover so thick that I honestly would not be able to locate the sun in the sky. It’s completely blocked by the constant grey mass of clouds.

Considering I spend the bulk of my life indoors in front of a computer screen, this lack of light should not affect me. It does. Not seeing a blue sky and the sun makes my brain feel like it can’t wake up. I’ve considered snorting lines of Via to help me wake up but haven’t quite resorted to it (yet). Instead, I’ve consumed quantities of caffeine that would disqualify me from international sports just to be able to keep moving and get to work.

A decade ago, I wrote all of the interfaces, conversions, and enhancements for a manufacturing company to transition off their legacy system to SAP. There was no Plan B. The go-live happened in October of 1999 and I was responsible for EVERY piece of the data moving over. It was challenging, daunting, and I spent many long hours ensuring it happened. I haven’t had a challenge professionally since and that’s sad.

Professionally, a big part of the problem has been working at Microsoft in one way or another for the last decade. The company is in a serious decline and in denial at the same time. I plan to post many of my observations in greater detail at some point in the near future. Let’s just say that the only thing I will miss is the free Diet Mountain Dew that is stored in the kitchens on campus.
It hasn’t been all bad. We had our kids here and I will always cherish that. We bought homes here. I learned how to fix things and enjoy manual labor as we remodelled our home (not that I would ever do that again). But it’s definitely time to move on.

I am looking forward to less brutal winters and greater professional challenges. I am excited to meet new people and travel. Once I have a little separation, I plan on writing a bit more about my experiences at Microsoft. Most importantly, I am now listening to spooky, ominous voices that tell me to do things.